That frightened her, and what frightened her more than the words was the flush of warmth they brought to her. "You talk too much."
"Thea…"
But she shook her head and rose up, taking him deep inside her, tantalizing his body so that the need for words slipped away.
Chapter 9
Colt awakened quickly. An old habit. He registered his surroundings—the pale light of dawn creeping into the tent, the rough blanket and hard ground beneath his back, and the soft, slender woman curled on top of him. It made him smile, remembering the way she'd rolled over him during the night, seeking a place more comfortable than the unyielding floor of the valley.
At the time, they'd both been too exhausted to do more than cuddle up and sleep. Now the sun had brought a reminder of the outside world, and their duties in it. Still, he took a moment to enjoy the lazy intimacy, and to imagine other times, other places, where it would once again be only the two of them.
Gently he tugged the blanket over her bare shoulder and let his fingers trail down over her hair where it lay pooled across her cheek and throat.
She shifted, her eyes opening and locking on his.
"Good reflexes, Lieutenant."
She ran her tongue over her teeth, letting her mind and body adjust to the situation. "I guess it's morning."
"Right the first time. Sleep okay?"
"I've slept better." Every muscle in her body ached, but she figured a couple of aspirin and some exercise would handle that. "You?"
"Like a baby," he said. "Some of us are used to roughing it."
She only lifted a brow, then rolled off him. "Some of us want coffee." The moment she left his warmth, the chill stung her skin. Shivering, she groped for her sweater.
"Hey." Before she could bundle up in the sweater, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to him. "You forgot something." His hand slid up her back to cup her head as his mouth met hers.
Her body went fluid, sweetly so, and her lips parted in invitation. She could feel herself melting into him, and wondered at it. All through the night they had come together, again and again, each time like lightning, with flashes of greed. But this was softer, steadier, stronger, like a candle that remained alight long after a raging fire had burned itself out.
"You sure are nice to wake up to, Althea."
She wanted to burrow into him, to grab hold and hang on as though her life depended on it. Instead, she flicked a finger down the stubble on his chin. "You're not so bad, Nightshade."
She moved away quickly, a little too quickly, to give herself the time and space to settle. Because he was beginning to read her very well, he smiled.
"You know, once we're married, we should get ourselves one of those king-size beds, so we'll have plenty of room to roll around and get tangled up."
She tugged the sweater on. When her head emerged, her eyes were cool. "Who's making the coffee?"
He nodded thoughtfully. "That is something we'll have to decide. Keeping those little routines straight helps a marriage run smooth."
She bit back a laugh and reached for her slacks. "You owe me some underwear."
He watched her pull the slacks up her long, smooth legs. "Buying it for you is going to be pure pleasure." He shrugged into his shirt while Althea hunted for her socks. Knowing the value of timing, he waited until she'd found them both. "Darling, I've been thinking…"
She answered with a grunt as she tugged on her shoes.
"How do you feel about getting hitched on New Year's Eve? Kind of romantic, starting out the next year as husband and wife."
This time she hissed out her breath. "I'll make the damn coffee," she muttered, and crawled out of the tent.
Colt gave her retreating bottom a friendly pat and chuckled to himself. She was coming around, he decided. She just didn't know it yet.
By the time Althea got the fire started again, she'd had more than enough of the great outdoors. Maybe it was beautiful, she thought as she rummaged through the small supply of pots they'd found on the plane. Maybe it was even magnificent, with its rugged, snow-capped peaks and densely forested slopes. But it was also cold, and hard and deserted.
They had a handful of nuts between them, and not a restaurant in sight.
Too impatient to wait until it boiled, she heated water until it was hot to the touch, then dumped in a generous amount of instant coffee. The scent was enough to make her drool.
"Now that's a pretty sight." Colt stood just outside the tent, watching her. "A beautiful woman bending over a campfire. And you do have a nice way of bending, Thea."
"Stuff it, Nightshade."
He strolled to her grinning. "Cranky before your coffee, darling?"
She knocked aside the hand he'd lifted to toy with her hair. He was charming her again, and it was just going to have to stop. "Here's breakfast." She shoved the can of nuts at him. "You can pour your own coffee."
Obligingly he crouched down and poured the mixture into two tin mugs. "Nice day," he said conversationally. "Low wind, good visibility."
"Yeah, great." She accepted the mug he offered. "God, I'd kill for a toothbrush."
"Can't help you there." He sampled the coffee, grimaced. It was mud, he decided, but at least it packed a punch. "Don't you worry, we'll be back in civilization before much longer. You can brush your teeth, have yourself a nice hot bubble bath, go to the hairdresser."
She started to smile—it was the bubble bath that did it—but then she whipped her head up and scowled. "Leave my hair out of this." Setting the mug down, she knelt and began to rummage through her purse. Once she found her brush, she sat cross-legged on the ground, her back to Colt, and began to drag it through her tangled hair.
"Here now." He sat behind her, snuggling her back into the vee of his legs. "Let me do that."
"I can do it myself."
"Yeah, but you're about to brush yourself bald." After a short tussle, he snatched the brush away. "You should take more care with this," he murmured, gently working out the tangles. "It's the most beautiful head of hair I've ever seen. Up close like this, I can see a hundred different shades of red and gold and russet."
"It's just hair." But if Althea had a point of vanity, Colt was stroking it now. And it felt wonderful. She couldn't resist a sigh as he brushed and lifted, caressed and smoothed. They might be in the middle of nowhere, but for that moment Althea felt as though she were in the lap of luxury.
"Look," Colt whispered against her ear. "At three o'clock."
Responding instinctively to the direction, Althea turned her head. There, just at the, verge of the forest, stood a deer. No, not a deer, she realized. Surely no deer could be so huge. His shoulders were nearly as high as a man, and massive. His head was lifted, scenting the air, with his high crown of antlers spearing upward.
"It's, ah…"
"Wapiti," Colt murmured, wrapping his arms companionably around her waist. "American elk. That's one beautiful bull."
"Big. Big is what he is."
"Close to seven hundred pounds, by the look of him. There, he's caught our scent."
Althea felt her heart jolt when the elk turned his great head and looked at her. He seemed both arrogant and wise as he studied the humans who were trespassing on his territory.
And suddenly there was an aching in her throat, a response to beauty, a trembling deep inside, a kind of wonder. For a moment the three of them remained poised, measuring each other. A lark called, a searingly beautiful cascade of notes.
The elk turned, vanished into the shadowed trees.
"I guess he didn't want coffee and cashews," Althea said quietly. She couldn't say why she was moved. She only knew that she was, deeply. Relaxed against Colt, cradled in his arms, she was completely and inexplicably content.
"Can't say I blame him." Colt rubbed his cheek against her hair. "It's a hell of a way to start the day."
"Yeah." She turned, impulsively winding an arm around his neck, pressing her lips to his. "This is better."
&
nbsp; "Much better," he agreed, sinking in when she deepened the kiss. He nuzzled, and was amused when she laughed and shoved his unshaven face away from the tender curve of her throat. "Once we're back in Denver, I want you to remind me where we left off."
"I might do that." With some regret, she drew away. "We'd better—what do you call it? Break camp? And, by the way," she added, shrugging into her shoulder rig, "you owe me more than new lingerie—you owe me breakfast."
"Put it on my tab."
Twenty minutes later, they were strapped into the cockpit. Colt checked his gauges while Althea applied blusher to her cheekbones.
"We ain't going to a party," he commented.
"I may not be able to brush my teeth," she said, and crunched down on a mint she'd found in her purse. "I may not be able to take a shower. But, by damn, I haven't lost all sense of propriety."
"I like your cheeks pale." He started the engines. "Kind of fragile."
After one narrow-eyed stare, she deliberately added more blusher. "Just fly, Nightshade."
"Yes, sir, Lieutenant."
He didn't see the point in telling her it would be a tricky takeoff. While she was occupied braiding her hair, he maneuvered the plane into the best position for taxüng. After touching a finger to the medal that rested under his shirt, he let her rip.
They jolted, bounced, shuddered and finally lifted, degree by degree. Colt fought the crosscurrents, dipping one wing, leveling off, nosing upward. Finally they cleared the ridge and shot over the tops of the trees.
"Not too shabby, Nightshade." Althea flipped her braid behind her back. When he glanced over, he saw the awareness in her eyes.
The hands that were currently uncapping a tube of mascara were rock-steady, but she knew. He should have realized she would know.
"Boyd was right, Thea. You're a hell of a partner."
"Just try to hold this thing steady for a few minutes, will you?" Smiling to herself, she angled her purse mirror and began to do her lashes. "So, what's the plan?"
"Same as before. We circle this area. Look for cabins. The one we want has a sloped drive."
"That certainly narrows things down."
"Shut up. It's also a two-story with a covered wraparound deck and a trio of windows on the front, facing west. The sun was going down in one scene in the video," he explained. "According to the other information we have, there's a lake somewhere in the general area. I also saw fir and spruce, which gives us the elevation. The cabin was whitewashed logs. It shouldn't be that hard to spot."
He might be right about that, but Althea knew there was something else that needed to be said. "She might not be there, Colt."
"We're going to find out." He banked the plane and headed west.
Because she could see the worry come into his eyes, Althea changed tacks. "Tell me, what rank were you in the air force?''
"Major." He drummed up a smile. "Looks like I outrank you."
"You're retired," she reminded him. "I bet you looked swell in uniform."
"I wouldn't mind seeing you in dress blues. Look."
Following his direction, she spotted a cabin below. It was a three-level structure fashioned from redwood. She noted two others, separated from each other by lines of trees.
"None of them fit."
"No," he agreed. "But we'll find the one that does."
They continued to search, with Althea peering through binoculars. Hideaways were snuggled here and there, most of them seemingly unoccupied. A few had smoke puffing out of a chimney and trucks or four-wheel-drive vehicles parked outside.
Once she saw a man in a bright red shirt splitting wood. She spotted a herd of elk grazing in a frosty meadow, and the flash of White-tail deer.
"There's nothing," she said at length. "Unless we want to do a documentary on—Wait." A glint of white caught her attention, then was lost. "Circle around. Four o'clock." She continued to scan, searching the snow-dusted ridges.
And there it was, two stories of whitewashed logs, a trio of windows facing west, the deck. At the end of the sloping gravel drive sat a muscular-looking truck. As further proof of habitation, smoke was spiraling out of the chimney.
"That could be it."
"I'm betting it is." Colt circled once, then veered off.
"I might take that bet." She unhooked the radio mike. "Give me the position. I'll call it in, get a surveillance team up here so we can go back and talk a judge into issuing a warrant."
Colt gave her the coordinates. "Go ahead and call it in. But I'm not waiting for a piece of paper."
"What the hell do you think you can do?''
His eyes flashed to hers, then away. "I'm setting the plane down, and I'm going in."
"No," she said, "you're not."
"You do what you have to." He angled for the meadow where Althea had spotted the grazing elk. "There's a good chance she's in there. I'm not leaving her."
"What are you going to do?" she demanded, too incensed to noticed the perilous descent. "Break in, guns blazing? That's movie stuff, Nightshade. Not only is it illegal, but it puts the hostage in jeopardy."
"You've got a better idea?" He braced himself. They were going to slide once the wheels hit. He hoped to God they didn't roll.
"We'll get a team up here with surveillance equipment. We figure out who owns the cabin, get the paperwork pushed through."
"Then we break in? No thanks. You said you'd been skiing, right?"
"What?"
"You're about to do it in a plane. Hold on."
She jerked her head around, gaped through the windscreen as the glittering meadow hurled toward them. She had time for an oath—a vicious one—but then she lost her breath at the impact.
They hit, and went sliding. Snow spewed up the side of the plane, splattering the windows. Althea watched almost philosophically as they hurtled toward a wall of trees. Then the plane spun in two wicked circles before coming to a grinding stop.
"You maniac!" She took deep breaths, fighting back the worst of her temper. She would have let it loose, but there wasn't enough room to maneuver in the cabin. And when she murdered him she wanted to do it right.
"I landed a plane in the Aleutians once, when the radar was down. It was a lot worse than this."
"What does that prove?" she demanded.
"That I'm still a hell of a pilot?"
"Grow up!" she shouted. "This isn't fantasyland. We're closing in on suspected kidnappers, suspected murderers, and there's very possibly an innocent kid caught in the middle. We're going to do this right, Nightshade."
With one jerk, he unstrapped himself, then grabbed both her hands at the wrists. "You listen to me." She would have winced at the way his fingers dug into her flesh, but the fury in his eyes stopped her. "I know what's real, Althea. I've seen enough reality in my life—the waste of it, and the cruelty of it. I know that girl. I held her when she was a baby, and I'm not leaving her welfare up to paperwork and procedure."
"Colt—"
"Forget it." He shoved her hands aside, jerked back. "I'm not asking for your help, because I'm trying to respect your ideas of rules and regulations. But I'm going after her, Thea, and I'm going now."
"Wait." She held up a hand, then dragged it through her hair. "Let me think a minute."
"You think too damn much." But when he started to rise, she shoved a fist into his chest.
"I said wait." Then she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and thought it through.
"How far is it to the cabin?" she asked after a moment. "Half a mile?"
"More like three-quarters."
"The roads leading in were all plowed."
"Yeah." Impatience shimmered around him. "So?"
"It would have been handier if I could have been stuck in a snowdrift. But a breakdown's good enough."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about working together." She opened her eyes, pinned him with them. "You don't like the way I work, I don't like the way you work. So we're going to have
to find a middle ground. I'm calling this in, arranging to have the local police back us up, and I'm going to have them get word to Boyd. See if he can get some paperwork started."
"I told you—"
"I don't care what you told me," she said calmly. "This is how it's going down. We can't go bursting in there. Number one, we might be wrong about the cabin. Number two," she said, cutting him off again, "it puts Liz in increased jeopardy if they're holding her there. And number three, without probable cause, without proper procedure, these bastards might wiggle out, and I want them put away. Now, you listen…"
He didn't like it. It didn't matter how much sense it made or how good a plan she'd devised. But during the long trek to the cabin she defused whatever arguments he voiced with calm, simple logic.
She was going in.
"What makes you think they'll let you inside just because you ask?"
She tilted her head, slanted a look up from under her lashes. "I haven't wasted any on you, Nightshade, but I have a tremendous amount of charm at my disposal." She lengthened her stride to match his. "What do you think most men will do when a helpless woman comes knocking, begging for help because she's lost, her car's broken down and—'' she gave a delicate shiver and turned her voice into a purr "—and it's so awfully cold outside."
He swore and watched his breath puff away in smoke. "What if they offer to drive you back to your car and fix it?"
"Well, I'll be terribly grateful. And I'll stall them long enough to do what needs to be done."
"And if they get rough?"
"Then you and I will have to kick butt, won't we?"
He couldn't help but look forward to that. And yet… "I still think I should go in with you."
"They're not going to be sympathetic if the little woman has a big strong man with her." Sarcasm dripped in the chilly air. "With any luck, the local boys will be here before things get nasty." She paused, judging the distance. "We're close enough. One of them might be out for a morning stroll. We don't want to be spotted together."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 399
