Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  “Your father? But I thought…”

  “Yeah. He died eleven years ago. Back then, he hadn’t told the family, but he was being stalked by an old adversary. He didn’t realize the guy had found him on the rez. The tribal police received a tip and they tried to contact him, but he was out in the field.

  “Those were the days before cell phone reception was decent in Dinetah, so they gave me the message. But I couldn’t be bothered to cancel my activities long enough to go search out my father. By the time my basketball pickup game was over, Dad had already disappeared.

  “They found him in his burned out car a week later at the bottom of a four-hundred-foot ravine. His body was incinerated beyond recognition, but they found a bullet lodged in what remained of his skull. It had been no accident.”

  “But that couldn’t have been your fault,” Reagan said. “You didn’t know, and your father was a lawman. He should’ve been able to protect himself. Or the tribal police should’ve sent someone else out to warn him. You were only a kid. There was no way you could’ve been expected to—”

  He waved aside her objections. “In my head I know the truth, but in my heart I’m still at fault. I joined the Brotherhood when I discovered they were at war against the Skinwalkers. I’d hoped it might bring me back into harmony and help erase the worst of my past.

  “I vowed at the beginning that I would not take another wife. It was a sensible promise. A man becomes too vulnerable when he cares about…”

  Oh hell. Of course. With a sudden blinding insight, Kody realized he already cared too much about Reagan. When it had been her life at stake, he was the one who’d dropped his guard and became vulnerable to attack…just as he had been warned he would if he let himself become involved.

  But he wanted Reagan to know there was more than one reason there couldn’t be a future for the half-breed and the genius. “Believe me, even if I was free, people would be quick to tell you you’re crazy to love a half-breed. There are those on both sides who can be cruel. Ask my ex-wife.”

  Reagan jerked her head around and narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop that. Do you think I care about what other people say? If I did, I’d spend my whole life in tears over being called a geeky nerd—both to my face and behind my back.

  “I’ve just been fooling myself, wanting to believe I might’ve been worthy of being loved,” she whispered. “Of having someone like you care about me.”

  Kody didn’t fully listen to every word she said because he got lost when he heard her tear herself down. She was so gorgeous and so smart—and so sexy. He took her by the shoulders and pressed his mouth hard against the silky texture of her lips to quiet her.

  He quieted her all right. But he also managed to make himself nuts with desire.

  He touched her lips with his tongue and she opened for him. Ah. The flavors of her were as he remembered…and yet so much more.

  She tasted of coffee and honey, and something so vivid and spicy that he became instantly addicted and aroused.

  The kiss went on and on. Kody figured he could stay right here with her, kissing her, for eternity maybe.

  But as the heat between them exploded in his gut, fiery passion clouded his mind. Operating on instinct and pure lust, he only recognized the desperation. Practical matters had all disappeared.

  He was driven to feel the texture of her skin beneath his fingers. Needed to slide back into her tight, slick warmth and bury all his insecurities until they disappeared from his mind in a savage fury of red desire.

  His lust took charge of the situation and tipped the scales out of balance. He’d gone beyond all Navajo subtlety, slipping his hands beneath the edge of her shirt.

  Gliding up the fine, satin skin of her rib cage and taking pleasure in the feel of her body, he came in contact with the underside of her breasts. His fingers hesitated as he touched material every bit as soft as her skin. In his cliff dream, he’d expected sensible cotton from his sensational genius lover….

  Sudden images from that first night with the bees sneaked up on him. Back then, he’d stripped her and discovered she’d worn a lacy black bra and panties. Those pictures in his head snapped the last thread of civilized behavior remaining from all his Navajo training.

  The beast that lurked within every man took over.

  17

  W hen Kody’s fingers came in contact with her bra, Reagan felt his hesitation. She stifled a groan and nipped at his bottom lip, urging him on.

  He couldn’t stop now. Not when the heat from his touch was skittering down her chest and landing at her core.

  And not when this might be her last opportunity to experience the kind of explosion that only he could ignite. Tonight should probably be the end. Once she found her father, there would be no reason to spend many more hours with Kody. So her frantic desire needed to be soothed with one final goodbye.

  Encouraging him to lift her T-shirt, she arched her back and moaned. She craved one last chance to memorize the way he smelled. The way he made those hungry little sounds when she squirmed against his mouth. And the way he stared at her body as if she was some kind of goddess instead of a plain woman with loads of faults.

  He tenderly messaged her breasts through the silk of her bra, while she worried that maybe they should stop before things went too far. Another taste of happiness and she might never recover. How could she walk away now that she knew the yin and yang of how he could be?

  Perhaps when the end came, he would try to make it easier on himself by turning his back on her. Fully expecting her to be smart enough to keep her chin high and start walking.

  Could he be so selfish? Or would that really be kind?

  The conflicts were making her crazy.

  As he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, she relished the sensation, while her gut was busy trying to convince her mind that she would have to be the strong one of the two in the end. He had made a vow, and she couldn’t let him go back on that even if he wanted to.

  Only just now, after eleven years, was he beginning to forgive himself for his father’s death. Kody hadn’t told her that in so many words, but she knew it as surely as she knew the warm brown color of his eyes.

  She could never live with herself if he turned away from his family, his heritage and his vows in order to be with her. Was she crazy to even want such a thing?

  Reagan pushed away from him, wiggled her T-shirt back into place and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I’m really close to finding the right coordinates for the Skinwalker point of origin. Can I take a rain check with you until after we locate my father?”

  Man. That might’ve been the hardest thing she had ever forced herself to do or say. Especially now that Kody’s sensual expression was being replaced by a cold dark glare.

  He swiped the back of a hand across his mouth and stood up, towering over her. “Sure. No problem. Finish your work.” Turning, he started back toward the tiny kitchen.

  But halfway there he turned around and came back to stand beside her again. “We’ll find your father, Reagan. And with your coordinates to guide us, I’m sure we’ll make it before they can move him off Navajoland. They need him alive and well. He’s still okay.”

  Cupping her cheek, he gazed down at her with an expression that was hard to define. No one had ever looked at her that way. Kody seemed to be seeing her as if she were some kind of priceless jewel, instead of a heartless bitch who’d turned him away.

  But she was feeling pretty worthless at the moment. Making him stop what they were doing a minute ago had ended up being the biggest lie she had ever told.

  And she wanted to take it all back. Too late.

  It had been an hour since Reagan had pinpointed a five-mile radius around the trading post, and they were now on their way there. But Kody was having trouble keeping his mind on driving.

  Harmony and balance be damned. His Anglo side was overpowering his Navajo conditioning.

  Revenge and anger were not part of the typical Navajo�
��s training. Any man who had done wrong, even a criminal who had injured you, was not someone to hate. Rather, such a man was simply out of control. A person to be pitied and corrected, brought back into balance, not punished.

  Well, sorry. Kody was just plain furious that some Skinwalker or some terrorist somewhere was holding Reagan’s father’s future in his hands.

  It would destroy her if they didn’t reach him in time to save his life. She had everything, all her dreams for a family, riding on a man she barely knew. He had been hovering in her life, but had never really been there for her.

  In her mind and her dreams, she had made the commander out to be the cure for all her loneliness.

  And Kody knew he would spend the rest of eternity in hell, wishing he had done things differently, if he failed to save that dream for her.

  Gripping the steering wheel in white-knuckled fists, he kept most of his attention on the rutted, mud-slick road that he’d used as a shortcut. But he managed to glance toward Reagan in the passenger seat.

  With her handheld wireless turned to GPS positioning and her maps in her lap, she was focused on the task—even as the truck lurched and jostled across potholes, throwing her forward against the seat belt. He knew he needed to maintain some of that same focus.

  Stop daydreaming about a future that will not be, and keep your mind on the job. But he couldn’t help thinking of what a life with Reagan would’ve been like. How full of color and passion she was. How she’d turned out to be everything he hadn’t even known he’d wanted.

  His cell phone came to life on the dashboard and he answered the call with a jerk of his hand.

  “The Bird People have joined the hunt, brother,” Hunter blurted out, without bothering to announce himself. “They have your pickup in sight.”

  “Ask them to help search the area surrounding Three Eagles Trading Post. But don’t let anyone else spot you. We’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

  “Anyone who?” Hunter asked. “Except for Commander Wilson, who and what are we looking for?”

  “I’m not sure. Look for a place near the trading post where they could’ve hidden the commander in plain sight.” Kody chided himself for not having thought of the place as soon as the snake had turned out to be Bahe Douglas. Why had it taken Reagan to locate the spot?

  Another sharp look at her and Kody had his answer. Keeping her safe—or safely in his arms—had been his entire focus.

  Kody swallowed back the fear that they might not get there in time. He considered calling in the FBI, but decided to hold off until he knew more about the situation they would find.

  It seemed he’d actually learned a little something from Reagan last night. Gaining patience was a good thing.

  Absently, he wondered how he’d missed that lesson from his Navajo conditioning. Waiting for the right information was smart. But the dread of losing this particular battle had already sneaked up, and stood poised to throw him into a panic.

  “He’s going to be okay.” The sound of Reagan’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  “I know you were right and he’ll still be there.” She laid a hand over her heart. “I feel it in here.”

  It was good that she felt optimistic, wasn’t it? Or would it be better if she was prepared for the worst? Kody’s twin cultures were split on which way was best.

  So he kept his mouth shut and kept driving.

  The cell phone jangled to life again.

  “The Bird People say the only possibility in that area is a double-wide trailer about two hundred yards behind the trading post.” This time it was Lucas Tso on the phone. His voice, too, was easy to recognize.

  “It’s hidden in a cedar grove about a half mile north from your position,” Lucas continued. “According to the birds, you picked the right road, cousin. It’ll take you within walking distance as soon as you top the next hill. But there’s no movement near the trailer. You sure this is the place to look for the missing Anglo?”

  Kody turned the question over to Reagan, who nodded. “No question about it. Unless they’ve already taken him out of the country, the numbers don’t lie.”

  Kody responded to Lucas and clicked off the phone, then put his foot on the brake. He didn’t want the noise of the pickup to alert whoever was inside the trailer. It would be better if he parked and walked over the hill.

  Pulling off the gravel road near a culvert, Kody shut down the ignition and reached for his weapons. He checked and holstered the Glock and then opened the door so he could pull the shotgun from its spot behind the seat.

  Reagan opened her door, too.

  “Hold it, Red. You stay with the truck.”

  She shook her head and he almost got lost again in the rusty-colored flash of curls swirling like a halo around her head. “Don’t go alone. You might need my help.” She hesitated and looked stricken by what she’d said. “I mean, that’s my father in there. I should go along so he won’t be afraid. I could help….”

  Kody waited patiently until she wound down, but he was secretly thrilled that she didn’t want him to go into danger without her. “You can’t help, Red. That is, unless you’re an expert marksman and haven’t told me about it yet.”

  Scowling, she stuck out her bottom lip. “No. No gun training. But I’m a fast learner.”

  “Right.” The bark of laughter left his mouth before he could hold it back. “I’ll be a lot safer if I’m not worrying about you. Plus, you’re going to be needed here anyway. Stay and man the phone. While I do recon, you and I can text message each other. I’ll let you know what to tell the Brotherhood.”

  “Oh. Well, okay. I guess I can do that,” she reluctantly agreed.

  He realized she wasn’t happy to stay behind, but damn, she was spectacular. He dipped his chin at her and winked. And she blushed. The sight of that rosy flush spreading across places he would love to revisit almost stopped the entire rescue operation.

  “Kody…”

  “Yeah, Red. I know. I’ll be careful.” He backed away from the truck and eased the door closed.

  There was more he would’ve said, but it would have to wait until he brought her father back to safety. And by then, it would probably be too late.

  Kody moved silently up a barren, rocky hill, trying to scout out a good vantage point. The gray cast of dawn was slowly giving way to the violets and magentas of daybreak. But he didn’t have time to stop and admire the spectacular sunrise.

  When he hit the crest of the hill, he found a boulder the size of Arizona to hide behind as he scanned the terrain. Directly below him, a few aspens and a cluster of stunted ponderosa pines partially obscured his view. Right past them was a small grove of salt cedars that must be sheltering the trailer.

  Moving fast to beat the dawn, Kody crossed the open space between the aspens and pines to a spot just inside the cedar grove, where he had direct access to the trailer. From his place, only fifty feet behind the half-hidden double-wide, he had a good view of two sides of it.

  He leaned the shotgun against a tree and pulled out both his cell phone and foldaway binoculars. Just then, a light switched on inside the trailer, and the nearby sound of swishing wings reminded him that he was not alone.

  A quick glance upward told him that several raptors were circling above his head. The red-shouldered and zone-tailed hawks seemed to be waiting for instructions.

  Several seconds later, he had the binoculars strapped around his neck, and the cell phone open and set for text messaging. He hit Reagan’s speed dial number and asked her to relay to the Bird People a request to keep watch on the sides of the trailer he couldn’t see.

  She answered in the affirmative and added, R U OK?

  It made him smile. OK. U stay safe.

  Her message came back. Bro ETA 5 mins tops. Wait.

  Which sounded like good advice, except that right then a door opened onto a small deck and a man’s head ducked out. His body shortly followed, but then he turned back and began dragging an
other man out of the trailer by the arm.

  Kody focused his binoculars but it really wasn’t necessary. The second man was obviously Reagan’s father. His thinning wisps of auburn hair were a dead giveaway.

  It was pretty easy to tell that Commander Wilson had been drugged. His eyes were glazed and his head and shoulders slumped as he shuffled along.

  The other man was far more interesting to Kody at the moment. He was short, wiry and dark skinned. And he had a .45 strapped to his waist that was big enough to blow the head off a grizzly.

  But he was not a Navajo. Not a Skinwalker.

  Maybe they would get lucky and find that the evil ones had left Commander Wilson in the custody of the Middle Eastern terrorist group. Terrorists would be easier to overpower. They couldn’t change from human form. They couldn’t fly away. And the FBI would gladly round them up.

  Kody couldn’t wait for the cavalry to save the day. The dark-skinned man forced Commander Wilson to sit down at an outdoor table. He said something that Kody couldn’t hear, then reached over, clapped a set of handcuffs on Reagan’s father and went back inside.

  This might just be the best chance they had for a rescue. When else could they be sure of catching Commander Wilson alone? Kody didn’t want to risk waiting for the Brotherhood or the FBI.

  He clipped the cell phone back on his belt and eased his knife from its sheath as he crouched and ran for the nearest corner of the trailer. Gluing himself flat against the siding, he took inventory of his surroundings. There was only one window along this side, and a short set of stairs separated him from Reagan’s father and the answer to her prayers.

  Silently, stealthily, Kody inched along the wall toward the deck. Reaching the window, he ducked and crawled underneath. Another few feet and he could reach out and touch the commander.

  Taking one more quiet step, he suddenly stopped when he heard a noise behind him—the sound of a bullet being chambered.

  He swung around, sent his knife flying toward its target and threw himself on the ground—just as the bullet whizzed over his head.