An Officer and a Maverick
Page 15
“As much as I don’t like that guy, and make no mistake—” he looked at her sideways “—I don’t like him a lot, there are a couple of holes in your theory.”
“What?”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That was a pickup poker game, meaning there was nothing arranged ahead of time. If Brad did spike the punch, it would only have given him an advantage in that the other guys would be drunk and sloppy players. He couldn’t know who those players would be or how much they would bet on a hand.”
“I see what you mean. Still,” she said, “that reasoning doesn’t let him off the hook, either.”
“How so?”
“He seemed edgy to me. Sort of cynical and bitter. He might have a grudge against someone.”
“Do you know anything about his personal life?” Speaking of edgy, Russ’s voice had a tinge of tension. “Is he dating anyone?”
“He dates everyone. In fact, he wanted to drink to having fun with no strings attached.” She was remembering his exact words. “I asked if he was seeing anyone special and he asked if I was offering.”
“Son of a—” Russ’s fingers curled into a fist.
“Don’t go all macho.” The words came out of her mouth but inside she was cheering his tense reaction. It meant something. She was almost sure of it. “I was the one who offered to buy him a beer.”
“Don’t remind me.” He looked thoughtful. “You said he’s divorced? Could be he wants to get even with someone for that.”
“I got the impression that he’s just lonely. And doesn’t even know it.”
“Interesting assessment when he’s playing the field. Lonely in a crowd?” he asked wryly.
“Sure. Quantity doesn’t make up for quality. Guys won’t admit that publicly. It’s a very closely guarded manly secret.”
“What is?”
“That men want to settle down. Have someone special to share their life with.”
Come to think of it, men weren’t the only ones who felt that way. Lani was lonely. If she admitted that out loud, Russ would laugh, especially after having dinner with a crowd of Daltons.
She was grateful for her family and knew they’d be there for her always. But it was different from having a guy there when she woke up in the morning and someone to come home to at night. With Jase she’d had a glimpse of what making a home together might have looked like, which is why there was such a big hole in her life when he left. Since then she’d never let anyone become that important. Then Russ came along and scooped her out of the fountain.
“If it’s a manly secret, how do you know about it?” Russ asked.
“I have brothers. There’s talk. Sometimes they don’t know I’m listening.”
“Last time I checked, that was known as eavesdropping.”
There was a teasing tone in his voice and even from the side she could see his mouth curve up in a smile. And even from this vantage point the adorable factor in that smile was plenty powerful.
“I like to think of it more as research into the male point of view. This may come as a shock to you, Detective, but guys are not easy to understand.”
He laughed out loud, and the sound was magic to her heart. How she wished to hear him like this more often.
“Compared to women,” he said, “understanding guys is as easy as falling off a log.”
“So why was he on that log in the first place?” she mused. “Did he get pushed off or jump? And how did the log feel about a two-hundred-pound guy standing there?”
“I rest my case. When a woman plays the feelings card, there goes all rational thought.”
“So you’re a just-the-facts-ma’am kind of guy?”
“I’m a detective. You can’t make a case against the bad guys based on feelings and supposition.”
And that brought her down to earth with a gigantic thud. For just a few minutes she’d been able to pretend that they were just any guy and girl sitting in a bar and flirting. But that was an illusion. He was a detective hired to solve the town mystery and was only giving her the time of day because she had a job that gave her unique access to the general public. And tonight she was pretty sure she’d eliminated one of the prime suspects.
Her work there was done.
“Speaking of making cases, it seems there’s not one to be made against Brad Crawford. At least not from what he and I talked about tonight.”
“And speaking of that, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
“Oh?” She must have left out a detail in her recounting of the conversation with the poker-playing cowboy.
“When I walked up a little while ago you were denying that I was your boyfriend. You were just about to define what we are.”
“Thanks to your timely arrival I didn’t have to. So I guess you saved me tonight, after all.” Her boyfriend. If only. Getting a glimpse of something she couldn’t have was a real mood breaker, and she was ready to be gone. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, you have my report. I need to go.”
Again he didn’t budge. “What would you have told Brad about us? What are we, Lani?”
“I don’t know. Co-investigators?” She shrugged. “I told him we were getting to know each other. Just friends.” Chancing a look at him, she asked, “Are we?”
“That’s not quite right.”
Exasperating man. What did that mean? She thought about what he’d started to say earlier. That he’d come here to stop her from doing...something. He hadn’t finished the sentence, and now she wanted to know what he’d been about to say.
“Why did you really come here tonight, Russ? We both know I wasn’t in any danger from Brad. He’s not an idiot or a psychopath. Even if he’s guilty there’s no way he would have hurt me, especially here. What did you come here to stop me from doing?”
He looked at her, and his hazel eyes glittered, making them more green than brown. Intensity rolled off him so thick she could almost touch it.
“I was going to stop you from leaving with Brad,” he finally said.
“I wouldn’t have done that,” she protested. “Sure, I bought him a beer, but that didn’t mean anything. I could have told him there was no spark. You didn’t have to bother coming over.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Why? I had him right where I wanted him.”
“I came because there’s somewhere I want you, Lani. And it isn’t here at the Ace in the Hole.”
The truth was beginning to dawn on her. “Are you jealous of Brad?”
“Yes.” The single word was almost a hiss.
“There’s no reason to be. Telling him there’s no spark would have been the honest-to-God truth. I wouldn’t go anywhere with him—”
His finger on her lips stopped the words. “Will you go with me?”
“Where?” she whispered.
“My room. My bed.” Just like that, there was more brown in his eyes than green, highlighting the heat, want and need he couldn’t hide. “Say yes, Lani.”
All she could do was nod.
Chapter Twelve
His room and his bed were temporarily located at Strickland’s Boarding House.
Lani would love to see his house in Boulder Junction, but was really glad they didn’t have to go that far right now. The drive from the bar didn’t take long, and soon they made it to his room on the second floor. As far as they knew, no one had seen them. Not that it would be a problem, since word was all over town that they were a couple. But Melba Strickland had standards at her boardinghouse that didn’t include tolerance for a man and woman cozying up too intimately before taking marriage vows.
Russ closed the door behind him and blew out a breath. “We made it.”
Lani laughed quietly. “Is Melba in the habit of patrolling the halls?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” he said. “In the morning at breakfast she looks everyone over, and I swear she knows who broke the rules.”
“That’s just your imagination. There’s no way she could tell just by looking.”
“I’m not so sure. After a once-over, she has this subtle way of letting us know that what happens in the marriage bed is sacred.”
Lani grinned. “If that woman isn’t eighty years old, she’s darn close. And her husband, Gene, thinks a woman’s place is in the home raising babies. Times have changed.”
“But those two haven’t,” he swore. “And let’s just say I’d rather be involved in a high-speed car chase than face Melba in the hall while you’re in my room.”
She looked around. “And a lovely room it is.”
The bedside lamp illuminated the comfortable interior including a bed with brass head-and footboards. It was big and covered by a wedding-ring quilt. There was an oak armoire and matching dresser with a ceramic pitcher and washbasin on top. One modern touch was the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from the bed.
“This is nice. Homey,” she said. “An improvement from the jail cell.”
All these weeks he’d pretended nothing had happened that night, forcing her to pretend, too. Now here they were, and she had Brad Crawford to thank for it. She had a feeling if Russ hadn’t seen them talking, he wouldn’t have brought her here. Seeing her with another man had flipped a switch in him, and she was finally where she wanted to be.
He carefully removed the decorative throw pillows from the bed and set them on the ottoman that matched the red, floral-print chair in the corner.
When he was finished, he stood in front of her at the foot of the bed. “I’m going to make that up to you.”
“What?”
“The jail.”
“Ah.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing to make up for. That was pretty awesome.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, but the ambience left something to be desired.” He cupped her face in his big hands. “This time it’s private.”
She knew what he meant. No danger of anyone walking in on them. That night when they were locked up together and Russ kissed her, all she could think about was being with him. There was no space in her passion-filled mind to think about the fact that they were in a public place.
That time she’d been wearing a sundress, but now she had on a blouse and jeans. Since there was no fear of discovery and they could take their time...
She started unbuttoning her cotton shirt and was working on the last one before glancing up at Russ. He was holding his breath, anticipation stamped on his features. The intensity of his gaze made her knees go all wobbly.
He leaned down and lightly kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met. “You’re killing me here.”
“I can speed this up if—”
He touched his tongue to her earlobe then softly blew on it. “I know it didn’t sound that way, but I wasn’t complaining.”
“So I’m getting mixed messages here. Are you in a hurry, or—”
“I’m just so damn glad to be here with you. So damn glad you didn’t leave with Brad.” He met her gaze, and there was fire in his. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. “I’ve thought about you this way so many times, and it’s been driving me crazy. You smell like flowers and sunshine. Just the way you did before. I tried to forget, to get you out of my mind, but you just wouldn’t stay put.”
So she hadn’t been the only one affected by what happened that night. It hadn’t been just a fluke, a fling, a one-night thing. Her heart swelled at his words and beat even harder than it already was.
“And would you like to know what I’ve thought about the most?” he asked.
“What?” The single word was hardly louder than the sound of a sigh.
“Undressing you and taking my time.”
“Oh, my.”
“Any objections?” One corner of his mouth curved up.
“No.”
His smile was completely adorable as he brushed her hands away and undid the last button on her shirt. Then he slid it off her shoulders and unhooked her bra. He dropped it on the floor and stared at her as if he couldn’t look hard enough. ”Beautiful,” he breathed.
As he released the button at the waist of her jeans, she toed off her sneakers and kicked them away so he could take off the rest of her clothes. His gaze slowly moved over her, and there was no mistaking the approval in his eyes.
“Wow,” he said.
The removal of his clothes went a lot quicker, and before you could say boo there they were, neither of them wearing a stitch. She had to admit slow and deliberate had its advantages over doing the deed behind bars. This time she could really look at him, the wide shoulders and contour of his chest with its dusting of hair. She’d read magazine articles with pictures of actors and models with a six-pack, but had never seen one up close and personal before. The temptation to touch was simply too strong to resist.
She put her palms on his chest, letting the hair tickle her fingers before sliding down to his taut abdomen. “Very impressive, Detective Campbell.”
“Glad you think so, Miss Dalton.” When she traced a finger down his side to his waist, he sucked in a breath. “Now you’re playing with fire.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. But two can play that game,” he said.
He cupped her breasts in his palms and lightly rubbed the tips with his thumbs. The touch sent shock waves vibrating through her. For the first time she knew what “putty in his hands” actually meant. Her body felt boneless, as if she could collapse in a puddle at his feet.
Just the excuse she needed. “We’re wasting that perfectly good bed.”
Without another word she grabbed his hand, walked to the side of it and climbed in then moved over to make room. The mattress dipped from his weight, and just before he pulled her into his arms, she had the fleeting thought that the sheets were cold. Then he slid his arms around her and drew her close to him, and all she could think about was heat.
When he touched his lips to hers she couldn’t think at all. The man was nothing if not a good kisser. That was probably the reason she hadn’t been able to resist him the first time. But now she knew him better and had the privacy to really appreciate that the man knew what he was doing.
He took his time, leisurely kissing her lips, cheek, jaw and neck. She was already having trouble catching her breath when he took her mouth again, and there was nothing leisurely about it.
He traced her lips with his tongue then dipped inside when she opened to him. At the same time he brushed his hand down her side and over her hip. Her flesh was sensitized and seemed to catch fire everywhere he touched.
While he was kissing the living daylights out of her, Lani let her fingers roam over his shoulders and arms. The muscles and sheer masculinity delighted and amazed her. He was so strong yet deliciously gentle. Feelings that she’d been so careful to hold back seemed to spill over, like lava from a volcano. It was beautiful and dangerous.
He seemed to feel the shift in her mood, and his kisses grew more intense. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the room, and touching became more frantic. He nudged her to her back, and she rested her hands at his waist, urging him toward her. After settling between her legs, he entered her.
At first his movements were slow, as they got used to the feel of each other. Then he picked up the pace and intensity. Lani’s body moved easily with his, remembering the rhythm from that night when it was hot outside and he’d unexpectedly kissed her. She couldn’t hold back now any more than she could then.
Breathing became a definite challenge. He thrust harder, driving her higher, until finally pleasure exploded through her and rocked her world. She cried out and he kissed her, absorbing all th
e sounds of her overwhelming reaction that she couldn’t hold back.
And then he started to move inside her again. She clutched his hips and met him thrust for thrust. Seconds later he groaned, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and her legs circled his waist. He held her tight until the shudders of satisfaction stopped rolling through him.
* * *
It was late when Russ watched Lani roll out of bed. This was the first time since he’d started his official investigation that this warm country-themed room hadn’t felt lonely and empty.
He couldn’t help admiring her shapely backside even as he wanted to pull her back into his arms and make love to her again. All that soft skin and those feminine curves were really something.
But she had to be at the ranch early, and he had to take her back to the Ace in the Hole, where her truck was still parked. So they dressed quickly then stood a whisper apart at the foot of the bed with the tangled sheets just inches away.
They smiled at each other as satisfaction hummed between them. Her shiny brown hair was tousled and sexy, just the way it should be after fantastic sex. He reached out and touched a finger to her bottom lip, slightly swollen from his kisses. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled—in other words, she looked beautiful.
It was time to admit the truth to himself—he had feelings for Lani Dalton. If that wasn’t the case, no way would he have given in to temptation again. First being that night in jail.
The problem was that she had secrets. Not knowing what they were made it impossible to trust her, so getting more deeply involved was a bad idea.
“You’re awfully quiet,” she said. “Do you hate yourself?”
Not quite, but he was in unfamiliar territory here. “Is there some reason I should?”
“Isn’t that what people say when they try to resist doing what we just did? That you’ll hate yourself in the morning?”
“Right.” Russ got it now. “No, I don’t hate myself. Do you?”
“It’s after midnight, so technically morning has arrived, but I don’t hate myself.” She smiled and linked her fingers with his. “I just wish I didn’t have to go.”