Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  But the reality was so much better now that they had actually met. There was something powerful about pleasuring a strong woman. About feeling that power as she surrendered to her own needs. It turned him on as never before.

  With his heart knocking against his rib cage, he slipped his fingers down through the curls between her thighs. She whimpered, but it sounded more like a feral growl as she opened her legs and invited him in.

  He was trembling as badly as she was, but not enough to stop. So he dropped to his knees between her legs and used his free hand to band around her bottom, holding her close and tight.

  He was shocked by what two supposed strangers were doing, and gratified it was even better than he had dreamed. Not too shocked to slide a finger into the depths of her, however, he tested her wetness and probed the dark places he’d experienced in his dreams so many times.

  Moaning, she squirmed in his arms and began to pant. He let the tip of his middle finger dance across her internal muscles and felt them quivering in response. Her panting became stronger, with a much higher pitch.

  His tongue actually itched, desperate to taste her feminine wetness. He shot a glance up her torso and found Teal’s eyes closed and her body swaying. Tightening his grip, he pulled his fingers from within her and replaced them with his mouth.

  She squealed and jerked when his tongue made contact with her most tender of places. But he continued to hold her close, determined to wring every passionate moan and cry from deep inside her before he let her go.

  Lucas’s own body was pleading with him for release. It had been a long time since he had made love to a woman—in real life. But this wasn’t about him. It was all about giving Teal what she wanted.

  “Mmm. Hot silk,” he mumbled as he licked and laved. “Perfect.”

  Swirling his tongue in ever-tightening circles, Lucas knew when her moans grew desperate and the muscles under his lips began to quake. She gasped, dug her fingers into his scalp and screamed an obscenity.

  He drank of her sweetness, and fought to hold her up as her body became weak and boneless. In the end, letting her collapse back on the sofa, Lucas couldn’t stop his satisfied smile—even as his own body was pounding and screaming for release.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh,” she gasped.

  He watched as she tried to shake off the remnants of her desire so she could look at him. How beautiful she was, with her face and chest flushed in that sexy rosy glow. And with her long ebony hair, normally up in a bun or back in a thick braid, all tossed and streaming across her back and breasts in a perfect sensual disaster.

  Lucas had never seen anything so fantastic.

  Suddenly she jumped up, looked around the floor and found her jeans. He thought reality must have crashed in on them. Their daylight dream would be over now for sure.

  But he was beyond confused when she didn’t scurry to pull the pants on. Instead, she frantically dug into the pockets, looking for something.

  “Damn it. These aren’t the right ones,” she cried.

  Turning to him, she had the strangest expression on her face. “I…I’m sorry.”

  He took the two steps closer to be ready for dragging her into his arms. “Sorry? For what? You’re perfect.”

  She half-heartedly pushed at his shoulders and held up the jeans for his inspection. “I could’ve sworn I stuck a condom into the little watch pocket of these jeans. But it’s not there. Must’ve been the pair I didn’t wash.”

  “A what?” Had she really just said what he thought she’d said?

  At least she had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “You know. Protection,” she said in a stage whisper. “It would be only fair. I mean, you didn’t. Uh. You haven’t…”

  She looked so willing. And he was sorely tempted.

  No way.

  “Protection is my worry, Bright Eyes. And right now, it’s not a problem.” He skimmed a stray piece of hair back off her face and hooked it behind her ear.

  Her eyes narrowed as she glanced down his body to the truth of his problem. She brushed her hand lightly against his tight arousal, at the moment barely contained behind the zipper of his jeans.

  “No problem, huh?” she said with a wry smile.

  For a second he couldn’t say a word. Then he took a big breath. Shifted his own jeans, trying to find some room. And finally lifted her hand away.

  Holding her by the wrist, he shook his head. “Later, Special Agent love. It looks to me like you’re feeling just a little bit too fine this morning. I think we’d better get you back to work after we make you something to eat.

  “We can finish our other kind of…work another time.”

  The sexy dream girl turned back into the FBI Special Agent right before his eyes as she jerked her jeans up over her hips and scowled at him. It was what he knew must be for the best. But still…

  Ah, hell.

  She was in major trouble here.

  Muttering to herself about jocks who were so full of themselves that a mere woman could not be the protection provider for once, Teal jammed her running shoes onto her feet and ignored the socks. Apparently, good-looking Mister “I’m-the-Protector” here had slipped both her shoes and socks off when he’d laid her down on the sofa last night. Good damn thing he hadn’t removed anything else while she was drugged.

  What had gotten into her, jumping the guy like that? There would be no chalking it up to hypnotism or a date-rape drug.

  Actually, Teal had to admit she’d known this very thing would happen yesterday when she’d stopped and bought a box of condoms and then hidden one in a pair of jeans. But for her to actually attack the man and let him know she’d wanted much more even if he didn’t—Well, that was just beyond stupid.

  Having sex with a stranger, a Navajo sensitive stranger who won Iron Man competitions at that, was so not in her job description.

  But, oh, what that particular stranger could do to her with his hands and his mouth! Man, when had being bad ever felt so good?

  Shaking her head, she tried focusing well enough to follow him through his studio and into a galley kitchen that connected the studio to the house. Teal thought about how much she loved her job. It had taken the place of friends and family after she’d left home. The Bureau had become her everything.

  She simply could not let any man distract her and ruin it. Her world needed to get back to being black and white. These gray areas were killing her.

  By the time she sat down at the kitchen table and looked up to find him, Lucas was already starting the coffeemaker. “I know you’re hungry, what can I get you? Eggs? Muesli and yogurt? Fruit?”

  “Muesli and yogurt? Eeeww. Health food. Don’t you have anything greasy or sweet? Bacon? Donuts? I need to get a headstart on my daily ration of fat and sugar.”

  He’d had his back turned to her, but she heard him chuckling before he said anything. “Afraid I don’t have any of that junk, Bright Eyes. You’ll have to settle for nongreasy scrambled eggs and a sweet fresh apple.”

  Turning, his face became the picture of sobriety. “But while you wait, here’s a jump on your caffeine intake for the day.”

  She accepted the cup of coffee and tried not to check out the front of his jeans. Was he still wanting her? She knew for a fact he’d been in need just a few minutes ago. Would he have conquered it by now? By now she’d managed to get past her own needs. Honestly she had.

  A few moments later Lucas sat down beside her and they both dug into a platter of eggs. She marveled at how good a cook he was. Had he learned as something to do in his loneliness? she wondered. Teal was a terrible cook, so she didn’t bother with it. Not when the local That’s-a-Burger made such great breakfast sandwiches and hamburgers.

  As her hunger subsided, her curiosity about the man she had just attacked grew. “Could you tell me more about this mind-reading trick you supposedly can do? For instance, are you reading my mind right now?”

  Nothing like jumping right into the deep end, she chided herself. There were se
veral other questions she could’ve asked. But nooo.

  Lucas stared down at his half-empty coffee cup for a few long seconds. She nearly opened her mouth and asked something else to get him off the hook. Damn, what would her interrogation instructor back at Quantico have to say about that?

  Finally, he lifted his head. “Actually, no. I can’t read your mind at all anymore. I seem to have lost the ability.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Sometime yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? Have you got any idea what changed?” Teal was beginning to think Lucas had finally figured out that he couldn’t fool her with magic tricks. So he’d probably decided to tell her that his special powers had suddenly disappeared. Smart guy.

  He looked over at her and took another minute before answering. Meanwhile, the expression in his eyes was a stunner. A combination of hurt, along with desolation and need were laid bare right there for her to see.

  An arrow of comradeship drove through her heart. She had felt all those things, too. For most of her life. But she always tried her damnedest not to let them show.

  Feeling pity for him and remorse for herself, she was suddenly very sorry she’d jumped the man before they’d had a chance to get to know one another better. Why had she done that anyway? Okay, so he was gorgeous and sexy. All lean torso and muscled arms, and with those gooey chestnut eyes. But she’d met sexy strangers before and nothing like that had ever happened between them.

  While he swallowed one last gulp of cold coffee and cleared his throat, she tried to figure out her motivations.

  “I don’t really understand what changed,” he began at last. “I’ve always hated being odd. But in Navajo tradition, balance and harmony and accepting what can’t be changed is the way we try to live our lives. So hatred for my own ‘gift’ went against tradition—and I hated myself for that, too.

  “Still,” he continued with a deep sigh. “I’ve wished a million times for the gift to go away. And now that it has, I’ve found myself wishing for a way to make it come back. I hate the change.”

  Oh, Lucas.

  In the back of her brain, Teal was beginning to understand why she had made a move on him this morning. They were a lot alike. Somehow, they had two similar spirits. She’d already known who and what he was—because he was the male version of her lonely self. He wasn’t a stranger.

  But he looked so forlorn, so miserable, that she decided to try another shot at becoming his friend. “You know the coolest thing about being an FBI agent? It’s an ever-changing experience. I had to get used to that in the beginning because I thought I hated change, too.

  “Now I just love getting to carry a gun and looking tough. And being able to call for backup when things turn too scary.”

  Lucas studied her for a moment and then a light of recognition stirred deep within his eyes. “Everything is so scattered and distant on this reservation. Out here, backup is nearly always an hour away.”

  Teal let herself give him a real smile, one meant to say more than mere words. “I’ve come to understand the distances, yes. That’s why I’ve decided to be happy you and I are going to be riding together.”

  She reached over and laid her hand on his in a true companion gesture. “We can be each other’s backup, don’t you think? Maybe my gut instincts about people will help compensate for your loss. I’ve honed my abilities to read people by more than what they say. It’s a great tool for any lawman to have and I’ll share it with you.”

  His eyes were doing that gooey thing again as he looked at her in silence.

  “It’s a deal, Special Agent love,” he finally told her. “I’d be proud to watch your back—or any other body part that you care to name.”

  She jerked her hand away. “Fine. Let’s get going then. There’s work waiting for us, partner.”

  Not far away, the Skinwalker soldier known as the Burrowing Owl deliberately moved at a slow pace down the outside steps of his day job toward the parking lot. He wasn’t in his Skinwalker persona at the moment and had to walk, not fly. But he had just found a substitute to take his day job for now, so he could change over and go back to fulfilling his promises to the Navajo Wolf.

  He’d heard the radio program this morning, naming that new Brotherhood female interest, the FBI agent, as the lead investigator on the murder case. It had given him a great idea.

  If the Wolf’s purpose was to confuse the Brotherhood and keep them busy, this new development presented a perfect opportunity. The Burrowing Owl had researched a few ideas for making that agent believe her life was being threatened—using the type of weapons that a normal human murderer would think of, not a Skinwalker.

  Worrying about her life ought to make at least those two Brotherhood soldiers he’d seen with her the other night in Many Caves Canyon forget about the Skinwalkers for a while. And maybe if he was real smart, the Owl figured he could find ways to involve more Brotherhood warriors, too.

  Pleased with himself for being so brilliant, the Owl snuck into the stand of ponderosa pines that grew on the far side of the parking lot. He was also determined to find a way to outsmart those damned birds that were always getting in his way. Maybe later.

  For now, he just needed a moment’s privacy in order to say the chants that would change him over to the Dineh’s traditional symbol of death and disaster. The Skinwalker Burrowing Owl.

  It had taken quite a while for Lucas to get them back on the road that morning as he’d had to introduce Snow to Teal. Then he’d needed to feed the spoiled bilagaana cat his morning canned sardines and kibble while Teal made several calls to her field office.

  And lastly, he’d wanted to show Teal around his studio. There hadn’t been time for him to describe all the kinds of traditional Navajo arts that he was known for. He’d briefly pointed out examples of the mud pottery, the turquoise and silver jewelry and the sand paintings. But the tradition and history of sand painting alone would’ve taken hours to explain.

  At long last they were in his SUV and on the way to her house. She’d wanted to go home to change and dig out some more of her notes. He was okay with that, because he’d wanted to make sure she rested for the rest of today. Looking drawn and exhausted again, she needed more time and her boss said she could take as much time as she needed.

  He’d been an ass this morning to let her get to him the way she had. But the fragile seeds of possibilities he’d found in her eyes had made him temporarily lose his mind.

  He hadn’t been quite sure of the extent of those possibilities. Would she really be able to accept someone like him? Was her obvious need for him only temporary? He’d lost himself in the opportunity.

  What a jerk. He should’ve been thinking of what was best for her. She’d almost lost her life sliding down the mountain less than thirty-six hours ago. Maybe her needs had been a remnant of a self-preservation adrenaline rush.

  Shaking the cobwebs out of his brain, Lucas vowed to make things between them stay much more lighthearted from now on. He knew about their connection. She did not.

  “Do you have any plans formulated on how to go about your murder investigation?” he asked in an effort to steer them both to considering the business at hand.

  “Not really. I’ve decided to count on you to help me understand the problems at the mine. And maybe together we can pinpoint which Navajos would have the best motives to have that covert investigator murdered.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever I can. But Navajos don’t plan to kill people like white men do. Navajos do kill each other once in awhile, but generally it’s because someone got drunk or accidentally kills someone in a bar fight. Accidents, even a surprise attack of rage on rare occasions, do happen and people get killed. But for a Navajo to scheme to kill for profit or for protection is unthinkable.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard that. Why?”

  How to explain so that she would understand? Lucas considered the many ways of beginning the story and opted for a short, black-and-white version for
her benefit.

  “Traditional Navajos do not believe that people have a soul that will go on without them after death,” he began. “Death is just death, not a beginning. But the Dineh do believe that if you are out of harmony before you die and don’t have a chance to get back into balance, your bad spirit will be stuck roaming the earth long after you are dead.”

  He slanted a look at Teal and she was nodding thoughtfully. Good. He’d apparently picked a good place to begin.

  “A Navajo man who plans to kill,” he went on, “is just asking for the bad part of his spirit to be stuck forever.”

  “I see. So we should be looking for a modern Navajo—or maybe a white person living on the rez?”

  “It’s not quite that simple. There does happen to be one group of traditional Navajos who make an appearance in every generation and who give up on the true Way, usually for profit or power. They take up forbidden things that are the exact opposite of what the rest of us believe. Things we consider taboo and witchcraft.”

  “Witchcraft? Not really?”

  “Don’t make fun, Bright Eyes. You might be sorry to have ignored the possibilities.”

  “You’re wrong about me. I would never consider making fun of witchcraft. I even studied voodoo and witch cults and their legal ramifications in one of my college law-enforcement classes. Nasty stuff.”

  Well, that went better than he could’ve hoped. “Yes, it is. Our witches are worse than the run-of-the-mill, though. Because ours are such a departure from the Navajo Way. The People have named our witches Skinwalkers. But you shouldn’t mention that word too loudly. People will figure you’re a witch in disguise and will refuse to deal with you.”

  “Skinwalkers! Even the name sounds dangerous. What’s its meaning?”

  “Just as it suggests. A Skinwalker is a witch who does many bad things. But the worst is his being able to change himself over into an animal with superhuman powers.”

  “Doesn’t sound good. And I suppose these Skinwalkers don’t mind killing people for fun and profit?”