Matt sat on the edge of the bed, reluctantly admitting to himself that the delay wasn’t altogether a bad thing. They really needed to talk, but she’d looked so lovely, so languid and sensual with her tousled hair and bedroom eyes, that he’d been ready to ravish her without a second thought.
As his erection diminished—not to worry, he reassured himself with a grin, there were more where that came from—he found his jeans on the floor and pulled them on.
Maybe he should nip next door while she was in there. He listened to the water running and decided to wait. He didn’t want her to come out and find him missing in action, and leaving her a note that said, “Gone next door for condoms,” just sounded stupid.
As it was, he’d have to explain to her why he’d brought the condoms along after he’d told her the next move was hers to make. He thought of the key he’d given her—the so-called key to his chastity belt—and laughed to himself. So, what was his excuse for throwing a whole box of condoms into his duffle bag? Hope springs eternal?
The thing was, last night he’d forgotten all about the condoms. From the second Shane threw her arms around him, begging him to burn her past away, he’d been on fire for her. Rational thought had gone up in smoke.
The second time, too, when he awoke with Shane in his arms, warm and soft and eager, nothing got through but his desire for her, his burning need to be inside her again. His need for Shane consumed him, body, mind and soul.
Now, though, in the light of day, he knew he had to be responsible and open the topic for discussion.
Safe sex. Wasn’t that an oxymoron? There was nothing safe about literally laying yourself wide open to another human being. It cracked the door to all sorts of possibilities, good and bad. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine anything bad coming from having sex with Shane. It felt like the best thing he’d ever done in his life.
In the tiny bathroom, Shane studied her reflection in the mirror. She’d done what she could with her hair, brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face. And, of course, peed a river. Should she wrap herself in a towel, or not? Not. She wanted him, he knew it, why act coy? She opened the door and stepped out, feeling her body flush with anticipation.
Matt was sitting on the side of the bed—with his jeans on. Oh. She wanted to go back and grab the towel, but she stood her ground, fixing him with a level gaze.
“Shane,” he said. “Just look at you. You take my breath away.”
Her skin tingled under his gaze. She felt her nipples hardening. Why the hell had he put his jeans back on? “Going somewhere?” she asked.
She watched him glance down. Was that embarrassment on his face? All of a sudden she felt so—exposed.
Shane went back into the bathroom, grabbed a towel off the bar and wrapped it around herself. It was so skimpy it barely closed around her breasts. She pulled the towel to the side so the opening was over her hipbone, tucked in the ends, then went to face Matt. Whatever was going on with him, she had to know right now.
He met her as she turned the corner, and took her into his arms. She stiffened, then melted against his warm, bare chest. “What is it, Matt?” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “It’s just—there’s something we need to talk about.”
He released her, took her hand, and led her to the bed. She sat, holding the towel together as best she could, still wary.
Matt saw what she was doing and grinned. Damn, she was adorable. He took a deep breath. May as well get this over with. “Condoms,” he said. “We didn’t use condoms last night.”
Shane looked up from trying to adjust the ridiculously small towel and stared at him. “Condoms?” Then her hand went to her mouth and her eyes opened wide.
“Yeah, you know, safe sex? I mean, you don’t have to worry about me. After I found out what Vanessa was up to, I got tested. All clear, and there hasn’t been anyone else, until last night. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t, um, been with anybody for a while.”
Momentarily speechless, Shane shook her head. She couldn’t believe they were talking about this. And yet she knew they needed to. She admired Matt for forcing the issue, when clearly all he’d wanted to do a few minutes ago was take her to bed again.
“No, no, I haven’t,” she said, “not in years, not since college.” She blushed scarlet. “That’s an admission I didn’t mean to make.”
Matt laughed softly. “Okay,” he said, “so we’re safe on that score. What about—?” His words broke off in a question mark.
For a second, she didn’t get it. And then she did. Her mouth dropped open and she felt light-headed. It hadn’t occurred to her until this second that she could get pregnant.
What an idiot she was! Sex, dummy! Procreation? Eggs, sperm, and all that?
She felt like six kinds of fool. She tried to think where she was in her cycle, but her brain had gone fuzzy. Shane couldn’t even remember when the so-called “safe” time was. She’d never had to worry about it before. In college, hoping to have a normal sex life, she went on the pill. Then, when it became abundantly clear that “normal” was never going to happen for her, she stopped trying and quit taking the pill, because what was the point?
But now— She had to figure out how she felt about this. Without thinking about it, she placed a hand low on her belly. She looked up at Matt, then followed his gaze to the hand she was surprised to find cradling the place where a child would grow.
A long moment passed. Then, slowly and deliberately, Matt placed his hand over hers. Her heart stuttered, then thudded in slow motion as she watched his face, willing him to look up at her. When he finally did, the expression in his eyes was intense and unreadable. Or maybe she just didn’t want to read it.
No, she had to know what he was thinking. “Matt?”
“I have condoms in my room.”
Shane blinked in surprise. “You do?”
He smiled a little sheepishly. “Yeah. I was—you know—hoping.”
It was Shane’s turn for a sheepish smile. “I was hoping, too.”
“You were?”
She nodded and he leaned in and kissed her tenderly, his hand still over hers on her belly. “So,” he said when the kiss ended, “about those condoms. Should I go get them?”
A little frisson danced along her spine. Such simple words, and yet what was happening between them right now could change the course of their lives forever. “Do we need them?” she asked.
Never taking his eyes from hers, Matt said, “I don’t. Do you?”
Shane looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Matt. He was smiling at her so sweetly, so tenderly. The thought of having children with this man she loved more than anything filled her with quiet joy.
She smiled back and slowly shook her head. “No,” she said. Then she reached up and caressed his face. “I love you, Matthew Brennan,” she said.
He grinned. “I love you, too, Shane MacKinnon—or whatever your name is.”
Shane laughed, threw both arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
The kiss deepened and she slid down in the bed, pulling Matt with her. The white towel was between their bodies and Matt jerked it away, tossed it on the floor. Both of his hands were on her now, warm and insistent, like his mouth. He stood and stripped off his jeans and, when he came back to her, she opened to him, body and soul.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Shannon’s truck was still in its spot near the kitchen door, but she hadn’t emerged from the house all morning. She hadn’t come out to run or feed the animals and she hadn’t gone to her studio, either. He could see the sliding glass doors from his hiding place and he’d been standing watch since six a.m.
Puzzled, Jordan kept watching.
A few minutes before nine a.m., a teenaged boy came barreling down the access road on a noisy dirt bike, leaving a wake of red dust hanging in the air. The boy left his bike near the Ranger, then started feeding the peacocks.
>
Shannon must be sick, Jordan surmised, and she’d called this boy to take care of the animals.
Bored with watching him, Jordan trained his binoculars on Mr. Blue’s hill. Mr. Blue was nowhere in sight, either, and his big red truck was missing.
He thought a minute, then swore under his breath. Shannon wasn’t sick: She wasn’t home. She’d gone off somewhere with that Neanderthal, in his truck. They must have left before dawn. Where the hell did they go?
His jaw tightened; he ground his teeth until the pain made him stop. The temptation to lash out was overpowering. He wanted to run down the hill, thrash that idiot kid and beat his bike into scrap metal. He wanted to slaughter her stupid birds and cats and shatter all her blue bottles into a million razor-sharp shards. He wanted to crash through her studio doors, slash her weavings to shreds and splash them with the blood of her slaughtered pets.
Jordan’s breathing had grown loud and ragged and he knew he was veering out of control. He called on his deepest strength to drag himself back from the edge, slowing his breathing by the sheer force of his will. And then, when he was thinking clearly once more, he promised himself he would make them pay.
Shannon and her caveman were off somewhere together, doing God knows what, and he was stuck here on this godforsaken hill, waiting. He would make them pay for their thoughtless fun.
Doing any more surveillance today was a waste of resources. He had no idea when that pimple-faced boy would return or whether Shannon was even coming back tonight. He made himself stop thinking about her in some sleazy motel with Mr. Blue.
A few minutes later, he started the motor home and jounced along the dry creek bed until he came to the rutted track that wound up the hill to Mountain View Drive, then headed for Silver City. He’d check into a motel, take a shower, trim his beard and enjoy a meal someone else had cooked. Well, not enjoy, considering the caliber of local restaurants, but it would be better than the disgusting canned and frozen stuff he’d been surviving on during on-site surveillance.
He couldn’t wait to get back to his private island, but he had to admit he was looking forward to dealing with Shannon and her Mr. Blue. Yes, indeed, he was really looking forward to finishing what he’d started nineteen years ago. It was far too late for him to take her virginity, but he could live with that, because this time he would be taking something infinitely more valuable: When he finished using her body, when he grew bored with feeding on her fear, he would take her life.
He could almost feel her blood on his hands, running down his arms, thick and warm and sweet, smelling like earth and copper. Just thinking about it made him hard.
TWENTY-NINE
Matt was stowing his duffle behind the driver’s seat when a black Hummer pulled up behind him and Doug rolled down the window.
“Hey,” Doug said.
“Morning, Doug,” Matt replied. “What are you doing here?”
Shane stepped out of her room with her own duffle bag, stopped when she saw Doug.
“Shane,” Doug said.
“Good morning, Doug,” she said. “Where’s Gram?”
“Back at the house. You two need a hand?” He got out of the Hummer and stood watching them.
Matt shook his head. “Got it, thanks.” He reached for Shane’s bag and stashed it next to his, then waited for Doug to say what he wanted. Because it was clear to Matt he wanted something; he just couldn’t imagine what it might be.
Doug rubbed his bearded chin, scratched the back of his neck. “See,” he said, “I was wondering, you don’t mind, if I could tag along with you, take a look at that straw house you’re building.”
“You want to see my house? Sure, but it’s nowhere near finished. Now, if you wait until August—”
“No, see, the house being unfinished is kind of the point. I’d like to see how its done. Might want to build one of my own. You know, for me and Susan.”
Matt’s eyebrows went up. “You want to build a strawbale house in Phoenix? I guess you could. You’d have to check the local zoning codes.”
“Could be I’ll build one in New Mexico,” Doug said. “Put Susan closer to her granddaughter.”
Shane stared at Doug. “Really? I’d love that. Does Gram know you’re thinking about this?”
Doug shook his head. “I don’t want to get her hopes up. That’s why I’d like to follow you back and take a look. Told her I was going to visit my daughter in El Paso for a day or two. I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention it to her.”
Matt and Shane looked at each other, then Shane shrugged and Matt gave a nod and smile.
“Sure,” Matt said, “why not? But I’ve been bunking down in a tent on-site. I don’t have anyplace for you to stay over.”
“He can use my guest room,” Shane said.
Doug smiled. “That’s real nice of you, Shane,” he said.
“My pleasure,” she said. “It would be wonderful if you two moved near us, wouldn’t it, Matt?”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Matt said.
But he was thinking that Doug’s presence in Shane’s guest room would put a crimp in their brand-new sex life. What the hell, they had the rest of their lives, didn’t they? Still, just thinking about it made him feel deprived. He didn’t want to miss one day—or one night—with her.
Six-hundred miles to the east, high above the peaks of the Black Range, towering thunderheads massed, their anvil shapes soaring a thousand feet into the slate-blue sky. The smell of rain hung in the air before it reached the Earth, fat drops sliding over ground too parched to absorb the sudden bounty.
Lightning flared and thunder echoed and hard rain pounded the mountains, forming countless rills and rivulets, joining and crossing and joining again, gathering into streams, running downhill, sluicing the rising waters into valleys and arroyos and long-dry stream beds, following the natural course of things as the blinding rain slashed down.
It was early evening by the time the two-vehicle convoy approached the outskirts of Silver City. Matt looked over at Shane in the passenger seat. She’d slept most of the way, but now the buzzing of his cell woke her and he watched, smiling, as she stretched and yawned.
“Yeah, Doug?” Matt said.
He had the cell on hands-free speaker, and Doug’s lazy, bass intonation filled the cab. “Gonna need a pitstop soon.”
Matt glanced at his gas gauge. “I could use one, too. There’s a station up ahead on the right.”
“Got it.”
Matt cut the connection and looked at Shane. Her hair was flat on one side and stuck out on the other. She had whisker burn on her chin and her eyelids drooped over sleepy eyes. She looked sexy as hell.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
She reached over, ran a hand along his thigh, started his body humming again.
“Hey, yourself. Sorry I slept the whole way.”
“Not a problem.”
“It’s your fault. You kept me up all night.”
He grinned. “More like you kept me up all night.”
Shane laughed and her cheeks turned pink. “I don’t think you needed any help in that department, Matt.”
“No, I guess I didn’t.”
He flicked on the turn signal, slowed and pulled off the highway and up to the gas pumps. By the time he and Shane had climbed out of the truck, Doug’s Hummer was pulling up to the next set of pumps.
Shane stretched her arms and legs, snagged her handbag from the truck, and went in search of a restroom. She was sore in all the places one would expect to be sore after a night of intense sex, but she didn’t mind. Every little twinge, every little chafe, brought with it a sense memory that made the pain more than worth it. It gave “no pain, no gain” a whole new meaning.
She smiled as she closed and locked the door of the tiny but tidy women’s room. And then she caught sight of herself in the polished metal sheet that served as a mirror. Yikes was the only word for what she saw staring back at her.
Her hair looked like it had been
through a blender. It had come loose from the ponytail and one side stuck out from her head while the other was smashed against her cheek like a bulldozed pancake. Then there was the whisker burn on her chin, which looked like a bad case of acne aggravated by major sunburn. Her eyes were so red and droopy they made her look like a sleep-deprived wino.
She was a real mess. One good thing, though: Matt really must be in love with her, or he would have taken one look at her and run the other way.
Major repairs were called for, but there was only so much she could do in a few minutes with what she had on hand.
After peeing a river, she splashed cold water on her face and applied a little of the cover stick she carried in her purse. Then she dampened her hair, combed it out and put it back in a ponytail. Shane surveyed the results and decided it was about a seventy-five percent improvement. In any case, it would have to do. By now Matt and Doug were probably worried that she’d fallen into the john and been flushed all the way to China.
They were waiting for her in a paved area away from the gas pumps. Smiling sheepishly, she walked up to them.
“Sorry I took so long,” she said. “Matt, why didn’t you tell me I was such a mess?”
Before Matt could respond, Doug laughed. “There’s only one right answer to that question, friend: ‘Honey, you always look gorgeous to me.’ ”
Matt smiled and cupped Shane’s face in his hands. “Honey,” he said, “you always look gorgeous to me.”
Shane laughed. “Liar.”
“It’s the truth,” Matt said. “You could shave your head and wear a gunny sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world.” He planted a quick kiss on the tip of her nose and released her.
“You’re still a liar, but a sweet one,” she said. She started to climb into the truck.
“Hey,” Doug said, “okay if I pick up a six-pack before we head out to your place?”
“Sure,” Shane said, “and I need to stop by the grocery store, too.”
“No sense in both of us stopping,” said Doug. “Shane, why don’t you ride with me, and Matt can go on ahead.”
Shattered Blue: A Romantic Thriller Page 18
