A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Joan Johnston

  Roughly, he bit my bottom lip and more flames shot to life inside of me. I could feel everything—the hard ground beneath my back, the sharp press of pebbles through the thin silk of my blouse. With each breath, I drew in the scent of wildflowers, horses and Sloan. I saw the play of light and shadow over my closed eyelids.

  And his taste—I couldn’t seem to get enough of the endless flavors that I found each time he kissed me. There was always something new, some elusive nuance that I hadn’t sampled before. This time I tasted anger, but there was also desire—hot, dark, restless. And addicting.

  My whole world narrowed to this moment, to him, to us and what we could bring each other.

  He rolled over suddenly so that I was straddling him and he began to work on my clothes, pulling the buttons loose. I heard the erotic sound of silk tearing as I struggled with his belt. Once I yanked his shirt up, he rose to help me pull it off. We discarded clothes, hands grasping, groping, fumbling, growing more and more desperate.

  Free at last, he rolled me beneath him again and took his hands on another lethal journey. I thought he’d shown me everything before, but he unveiled more secrets as he began to use his mouth on me.

  Each one of my muscles melted, my bones liquefied, and one shudder after another racked my body as Sloan took his lips and teeth on a journey down my torso, my stomach and inner thigh and finally up again. He was taking things from me, things I’d never get back, and I only wanted to give him more.

  My fingers were digging into his shoulders, my voice crying out his name when he finally put his mouth to my center. The climax slammed into me, a hard, bare-fisted punch that sent me flying higher and higher into a spiral that it seemed I might never come out of. I was still shuddering when he rose over me to sheathe himself in the condom.

  I should have been sated, but I wanted more.

  He positioned himself between my legs, then framed my face with his hands. “I want you.”

  “Take me,” I said.

  He thrust into me, quick and hard, and then we began to move piston quick. With each second, with each thrust, there was more and more pleasure, seemingly endless until we shot headlong over that final airless peak—and shattered.

  Afterward, we lay together on the ground. Somehow, I’d ended up sprawled across his chest with no clear memory of how I’d gotten there. My head rested on his shoulder, my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beat fast and steady beneath my hand, hear the sound of his breathing in my ear. Above that came the sound of the stream, the rustle of leaves. Inexplicably, I felt at home.

  And I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. Still, I let myself drift, savoring the feeling. When I finally stirred, I felt his arms tighten around me for a second before he let me raise my head and meet his eyes.

  “Who won?” I asked.

  Sloan’s lips curved in one of those rare smiles as he pulled some twigs out of my hair. “The fight? I did.”

  My eyes narrowed. “In your dreams. Want to go another round?”

  He laughed and I felt my heart do that little flutter thing again. It was happening more frequently, and I was going to have to think about it. Just not now.

  “I’m not sure I’m up to it,” he said as he sat up and settled me more comfortably on his lap. Then his expression sobered and something like regret slid into his eyes. Lifting a hand, he tucked my hair behind my ears. “What am I going to do with you, Brooke Ashby?”

  He was talking about more than settling our argument, but I pretended that was what he’d meant. “How about a compromise? You want me to stay in my room, and I need to keep investigating what happened to Cameron. I’ve already made people uncomfortable.”

  The sound he made was close to a snort. “You’ve done more than that. Someone shot our plane down. And the minute I turn my back, the Lintons and Austin have spirited you away. I want to call off your whole masquerade.”

  I drew in a deep breath and marshaled all the arguments I could think of. “Just give me until tomorrow night. As long as everyone thinks I’m Cameron, we have a better chance of learning something.”

  “And you have a better chance of getting hurt.”

  I turned and met his eyes steadily. “If it turns out that I’m James’s biological daughter, I might be in just as much danger as Cameron was.”

  For a moment, Sloan’s arms tightened around me. Then they relaxed. “I wish to hell that I didn’t agree with you.”

  Pushing my advantage, I said, “How about we work together until we figure it out? I won’t spend another minute out of your sight.”

  He considered that for a minute. “I took you up in the plane and nearly got us both killed.”

  “We weren’t killed thanks to you.”

  He was on the brink of agreeing with me, so I summoned up all my debate skills. “Even if you lock me in my room, I’ll find a way to get out. I’m only on the second floor. I’ve had experience tying bedsheets together and rappelling down walls.”

  He studied me. “For a woman who’s afraid of heights, you’ve picked up some interesting skills.”

  I nearly had him. “You were right earlier. I am stubborn. I’m not going to give up on this, and two heads are better than one.” I gave him a quick kiss. “It means that we’d spend more time together, and I’d owe you big-time.”

  The corners of his mouth curved. “Are we talking about sexual favors?”

  I smiled at him. “I certainly hope so.”

  Sloan framed my face with his hands and ran his thumbs gently over my cheekbones. “Okay, but I want your word that you won’t go off on your own again.”

  “You’ve got it. And I want yours that we share all information. Like what you were doing in your office with Gus while I was riding out here with the Lintons and Austin.”

  “I told Gus and he’ll tell Elena who you really are, and I brought Gus up to speed on what we now believe about Cameron’s disappearance.” He pressed his fingers to my lips. “I told you before that I trust Gus, and we can trust Elena, too. They’ll watch our backs.”

  “Okay. I guess we could use that.”

  “Gus is checking into who might have used that SUV this morning, and he’ll keep tabs on comings and goings. Elena can be our eyes and ears in the house. What did you learn from the Lintons and Austin?”

  “Not much. They’re either totally innocent or they’re accomplished liars.”

  I filled him in on the update Pepper had given me on the alibis, as well as what I’d discovered during the ride. “Austin sounds like he really wants a chance to prove that he’s not his father’s son. And Hal—I hate to say it—but he’s got me almost believing that he really fell for Cameron.”

  “That might explain why she was kissing him in the garden,” he said. “But both Austin and Hal have every reason in the world to lie to you. And Hal doesn’t have an alibi for the day Cameron disappeared. They could be working together.”

  I smiled ruefully. “There’s that, of course.”

  “You have a soft heart, Brooke Ashby.”

  “Did Cameron?” I asked, suddenly hungry to know more about my twin.

  Sloan thought for a moment. “She had a tougher outer shell than you. And she wasn’t above running a few cons herself. She had a lot of James in her.”

  As we talked about Cameron in the past tense again, I felt my throat tightening. “In spite of everything we’ve learned today, I can’t think of Cameron as being dead. I’ve had this feeling all along that she’s in trouble, and that I had to do something about it—fast. But I never had the feeling that she was dead.”

  Sloan tipped my chin up so that our eyes met. “We’ll find out.”

  The words and his simple faith in them cheered me. “And isn’t it convenient that we have all the prime suspects gathered together in one house—just like in an Agatha Christie novel?” Another thought struck me. “And we owe that to James. The wily old fox.”

  “What do you mean?” Sloan asked.

  “Scheduling the wedding for t
omorrow was a perfect excuse to keep everyone here. If he hadn’t done that, Marcie and Hal and Austin would have gone right back to Saratoga Springs. The races and the parties have another week to run.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been wondering just what James’s role is in all of this.”

  “You’re not thinking he was involved in Cameron’s disappearance?”

  “No. But it’s just like him to find a way to keep everyone here and try to stir something up. You’re like him in that way.”

  That surprised me. “I am?”

  His brows shot up. “You came here masquerading as your sister with a story of memory loss. I’d call that a sure-fire recipe for stirring things up. And you’ve succeeded.”

  With that he shifted me to the ground, rose to his feet and held out a hand.

  I found myself reluctant to take it. Once we were back at the hacienda, I’d have to start thinking again and planning. Who should I talk to? What kinds of questions should I ask? And I’d have to think about Sloan. What we had was temporary, I wasn’t going to lie to myself about that. And I could feel the minutes I had with him ticking away.

  “C’mon,” Sloan said. “We can rinse off in the stream before we ride back.”

  The moment I was on my feet, he scooped me up in his arms, carried me into the stream, and when the water reached his waist, abruptly let me go. Then to top it off, he placed a hand on my head and shoved me under.

  I was sputtering when I finally surfaced. And Sloan was laughing. It took me two tries to get my feet under me, and he rewarded me by cupping water in both hands and throwing it in my face. I choked, lost my footing and went under again. When I came up, I saw that he’d gone into fresh gales of laughter.

  My heart did more than a flutter this time. It went into a full-fledged somersault. I pressed my hand against my chest. This serious, enigmatic man I’d been fascinated with from the first time I’d seen his picture had just dropped me in a stream and purposely dunked me.

  It was while I was watching him, his head thrown back, the sound of his laugh filling the air around us, that I admitted to myself what I’d been trying to deny since the first time I’d looked into his eyes. I could fall in love with Sloan Campbell.

  A mix of panic and joy swirled through me. Talk about complications. I had no idea how to plot my way out of this. And since I didn’t want to think about it and was barely ready to accept it, I decided that I could at least get even with him. Drawing in a deep breath, I slipped under the water, then pushed off in his direction. Circling around, I came up behind him, grabbed one of his feet and yanked it hard. Looking up through the water, I saw his arms flail and then he pitched forward like a felled tree.

  Of course, my revenge would have been more perfect if I could have escaped unscathed. But he twisted, grabbed my waist and pulled me close. In the wavering shafts of light piercing the gray water, he looked like some kind of sea god, and I wanted him as fiercely as I had such a short time before.

  As if he’d read my mind, he kissed me. Sensations shot through me—the chill of the water, the heat of his mouth and hands. The hardness of his fingers at my waist, the soft, thorough movement of his tongue on mine.

  Suddenly we were shooting upward. Sloan dragged his mouth from mine, and we both drew in huge gulps of air.

  “We could have drowned.”

  “We might yet,” he said as he lifted me and positioned my legs around him. “I want you.” Suiting actions to words, he pushed into me. But it wasn’t far enough. I tightened my legs around him and tried to wiggle closer.

  “Hold on tight.”

  I thought then that he was going to move to the bank of the stream, but instead, he withdrew and pushed in again, withdrew and pushed in again, teasing me. When he withdrew the third time, he paused. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Are you involved with someone back in L.A.?”

  “No. I like to be prepared.”

  “Good.” He thrust into me this time all the way. “That’s good.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more. Then we both began to move. The water was working against us, slowing us down, keeping the ultimate pleasure just out of reach until I thought I would simply go mad.

  “Now.” Sloan’s voice was hoarse, his fingers digging into my hips. “Come with me, Brooke.”

  When he thrust into me, I did.

  Chapter 18

  The afternoon sun was low in the sky and the shadows long when Sloan finally gave me a leg up onto Lace Ribbons. I felt both guilt and reluctance as I settled myself in the saddle. Guilt because we’d tarried longer than we probably should have. With each moment that passed, my “wedding day” was getting closer, and my masquerade would be over. So would the best chance I had of finding out what had happened to Cameron. I glanced back at the stream. In spite of that, I was reluctant to let go of this time that I’d spent together with Sloan. How would I feel when I had to leave Sloan forever?

  As if he’d read my mind—which I was beginning to think he could—he laid a hand over mine. “We have to talk about us.”

  Panic skittered up my spine. I thought I knew what he wanted to tell me, and I didn’t want to hear it yet. “First things first. We have to find out what happened to Cameron.”

  His hand tightened on mine before he released me. “Then we’re coming back here where we can be alone. Promise me.”

  “All right.” I managed a smile. “Although this is not the safest place to come. We nearly drowned twice by my count.”

  “Nonsense. You just need a little practice building up the time you can hold your breath. I’d be glad to help you.”

  “Oh, really? The way I recall it I nearly had to use CPR on you that last time we went under.”

  He was laughing as he untied Saturn.

  I was finding this new playful side of Sloan delightful. Inspired by it, I called, “I’ll beat you to the stables.” Without waiting for him to mount up, I loosened my hold on the reins and used my heels on Lace Ribbons.

  She responded beautifully, springing into a canter that took us quickly out of the trees. Then at my urging she accelerated into a full gallop. I leaned over her and said, “We have a head start, girl. Let’s make the most of it.”

  If we’d started out together, Saturn and Sloan would have left us in the dust, but with the handicap I’d given us, we might have a chance. “C’mon, Lacey.” Air parted, then whipped past us and the ground fell away beneath us. I could hear hoofbeats now. Sloan and Saturn were gaining on us.

  If I stayed on the route that Austin had chosen, there would be no contest. So instead, I bided my time and tried a surprise. When Sloan was nearly on me, I veered right and headed for a fence. He’d have to check his momentum to follow me, and that would buy me some time.

  “C’mon, Lacey,” I crooned to her. “Show me what you can do.” I bent over her as she raced forward. The fence was only about ten yards away when I felt the saddle slip to the right. I leaned hard to my left, trying to compensate. But the horse faltered, unsettled by the shift in balance. Panicked, she reared up. Dropping the reins, I grabbed for her mane and kicked free of the stirrups. She reared up again, and when she came down this time, she bucked, lunged forward, and I hurtled over her head.

  Time seemed to slow while I was airborne. My whole life didn’t flash before my eyes but I did manage to conjure up an image of my first riding instructor. A tall man with the build of Ichabod Crane, his constant advice to me had been to tuck and roll. I tried, but when I rolled my head smacked hard into something. Stars exploded and the world went black.

  I kept my eyes closed because the pounding behind them was more muted then. I could hear Sloan’s voice. He was talking in that soft, authoritative tone that was becoming so familiar to me. The other voice belonged to James, and his tone was angry but hushed, so I couldn’t make the words out. Or maybe I just didn’t want to put in the effort.

  Sloan had carried me to J
ames’s suite of rooms as soon as we’d arrived at the ranch. The trip back was pretty much a blur because I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Now I wanted very much to sleep. To escape.

  Cool fingers closed over my wrist. “Don’t go to sleep, Cameron.”

  The knife-sharp pain in my head became more intense. As did the memory of my mad race across the field toward the fence, the slipping saddle and the breath-stealing impact of my body slamming into the ground. Pushing the images away, I tried to sit up and firm hands settled on my shoulders. “Not yet.”

  I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Doc Carter’s. He released my wrist and began to shine a small light into my eyes. “Her eyes look fine. Her pulse is steady.”

  “You don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not in the room.”

  Doc Carter held up three fingers. “How many?”

  “Three.”

  “What day of the week is it?”

  “Thursday.”

  Doc nodded at me. “Fine. And what’s your name?”

  I opened my mouth and caught myself just before I said Brooke. “Cameron McKenzie.”

  He smiled down at me. “So far so good. It’s been a long time since you were unseated by a horse, young lady.”

  Then abruptly, it wasn’t Doc Carter’s face leaning over mine. It was Sloan’s.

  “How do you feel?” His face was drawn with worry, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

  Suddenly worried myself, I wiggled toes, fingers. “Is anything broken except my head?”

  “No. I checked you out pretty thoroughly before I moved you.”

  “I don’t see any signs of a concussion,” Doc Carter said. “But I could drive her into San Diego.”

  “No.” Sloan and I spoke in unison.

  I levered myself into a sitting position and managed not to wince. “I’m not going to a hospital. I had my fill of them after my mugging.” And I had less than twenty-four hours left to find out what had happened to Cameron. “I just fell off a horse. I’ll live.” And then I remembered. “The saddle…”