by Rita Herron
MADDOX NEEDED TO talk to Rose about the lab report, but she looked as if she might collapse at any moment.
“Why don’t you take a warm bath,” he suggested. “I can make us something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Rose said with a frown as if the thought of food repulsed her.
“All right, clean up.” Maddox gestured toward his dirty shirt. “I have another change of clothes in my car. Is it all right if I use your shower downstairs?”
“Of course.”
He ached to comfort her, but he stood stock-still as he watched her disappear up the steps.
He retrieved his duffel bag from the trunk of his car, brought it inside and showered, then went to the kitchen. Rose was still upstairs, so he dug in her refrigerator and pulled out ingredients for an omelet. Peppers, onions, spinach, cheese—it took him only a few minutes. While it cooked, he phoned the ranch and spoke to Mama Mary to check on his father.
By the time Rose appeared, wrapped in a big robe with her hair damp and piled on top of her head, he’d set the table.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Rose said softly.
“I was hungry. And you’ll feel better if you have something in your stomach.”
Rose gave him a strained smile, then sank into the chair and began to eat. Maddox joined her, and they finished the simple meal in silence.
“I keep thinking about Trina,” Rose said. “I don’t understand why she helped Thad.”
“Don’t think about it tonight. Besides, he could have lied about that or lied to her just like he lied to you.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said although she didn’t sound convinced.
“We’ll talk to her in the morning.” Maddox took her hands in his and helped her from the table, then led her to the den. He pulled her down onto the sofa, then walked over to the bar in the corner and poured her a glass of red wine and himself a scotch.
“I got a call from the lab. They identified your parents— the Worthingtons’ real name was Curtain. They were wanted for questioning in a money-laundering scheme twenty years ago.”
Rose released a weary breath. “So they were criminals?”
“We don’t know that yet. They could have been witnesses.”
She looked shell-shocked. He couldn’t blame her.
Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the glass and took a sip. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s just bruised,” he said. “I’ve had worse from a horse fall.”
“Do you need to go home and check on your father?”
“I called and Mama Mary said he’s had a good day. I think the anticipation of seeing Brett and Ray has given him a burst of energy.”
“That’s understandable,” Rose said. “But if you need to go home, I understand.”
He was taunted by an image of Rose on the ground with that gun so close to her head. He sipped his scotch, then set the highball glass on the coffee table and cradled her hands in his. “What I need is to be here with you. To make sure you’re safe.”
And alive.
He didn’t think he could bear it if she’d died today.
If she had, a little part of him would have died, too.
Emotions he shouldn’t feel engulfed him. Emotions that made him want to hold Rose close and never let her go.
Her troubled gaze met his, and a sensual longing sparked in the depths of her eyes. A need that mirrored his own.
Unable to resist the hunger ripping at him, he cupped her face in his hands and closed his mouth over hers.
The kiss was meant to comfort. To remind himself that she was alive. That he hadn’t lost her today.
But when she teased his lips with her tongue and threaded her hands in his hair and groaned his name, he lost himself in the moment.
* * *
ROSE ABSORBED MADDOX’S strength and warmth as he wrapped her in his arms. His kiss felt tentative, gentle, tender, yet when she returned the kiss, passion rose to the surface and hunger flooded her.
She had almost died today. So had Maddox.
Nothing mattered at the moment but that they were alive. And Maddox made her feel more alive than she ever had in her life.
Thad’s kisses had been meant to charm. Maddox’s were filled with tenderness, yet also with raw masculine desire.
His hands trailed over her shoulders and down her back, and he pulled her closer. Rose leaned into him, raked her hands along his arms and inhaled the fresh scent of soap and man, driving her to deepen the kiss.
A small groan of pleasure rumbled from his throat, his breath ragged as he eased his lips from hers. “Rose?”
“Shh, don’t talk, just hold me,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You aren’t,” she said softly. “We both almost died today. You make me feel alive. I need that now.”
She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, then removed his gun from his holster and laid it on her nightstand. “I want you, Maddox.”
He cupped her face with one hand, his eyes dark and intense as he studied her. She silently pleaded with him to make love to her and pulled his rugged face toward her.
Another groan escaped him, then another one rough with the sound of submission.
A smile warmed her insides as he gave into the hunger between them, and kissed her again. The kiss turned hot, desperate, needy, and made her heart pound with excitement.
She raked her hands down his chest and reached for his shirt, easing open the buttons until she could peel it back and feel his bare chest. God, his skin felt heavenly, his chest broad and packed with muscle.
He planted kisses along her throat and neck, nibbled at her ear, whispered a sound of male desire, spiking her own fever.
She tugged off his shirt, revealing broad shoulders, muscular arms and a torso dusted with dark hair. Rose dropped kisses along his chest, her fingers dancing across it in a sensuous parade that made him suck in his breath.
He slowly untied her robe belt and slid it over her shoulders, then kissed her neck again as one hand cupped her breasts. Her nipples budded beneath his touch, aching for more.
Seconds later, their touches turned frantic, passionate, and he tore off her gown and shucked his jeans.
The sight of his nearly naked body stole her breath. The bruises on his body reminded her that he’d almost given his life to save her today.
All the more reason she wanted to be with him now.
Hunger for him triggered a desperation that she’d never felt before. And when he closed his lips over one pebbled nipple, she closed her eyes, sensations spiraling through her as her body teemed with pleasure.
* * *
MADDOX ORDERED HIMSELF to stop this madness, but even as he did so, he trailed his tongue across Rose’s breasts and peeled her panties down her legs. He wanted her so badly his sex throbbed to be inside her, his heart racing with the urgency to have her.
She clung to him, her hunger palpable in the soft moans she elicited, her hands urging him closer as he rose above her. Needing to taste her, he planted kisses down her breasts to her stomach, then slid his fingers down to her heat.
She arched against him and stroked his calf with her foot, then wrapped one leg around him, urging him between her thighs.
His body hardened, and he rocked himself against her, teasing her femininity with his erection. Her breathing grew ragged, hurried with excitement, and he moved down her body and parted her thighs with his hands.
Then he closed his lips over her heat.
Rose dug her fingers into his hair and murmured a soft “yes,” her body quivering as he teased and tormented her with his tongue. And when he lifted her hips to taste her sweetness, she cried out his name and came with a fierceness that almost sent him over the edge.
He let her ride the wave of pleasure, his own spiked by the sound of her whispering his name, and he grabbed a condom from his jeans on the floor and rolled it on, then rose above her, kneed h
er legs apart and nudged her with his hard length.
Rose slipped her hand down to stroke him, and mindless sensations ripped through him.
He stroked her over and over, his blood on fire as she guided him inside her. The moment he felt her body clench around his, his own release was imminent. But he prolonged the pleasure as long as he could, easing out of her and thrusting inside her warmth again and again. Finally he lifted her hips to angle her so he could drive himself deeper, until he filled her and she cried out again with another orgasm.
He came then, swiftly, intensely, and he gripped her hips and closed his eyes, emotions pummeling him as she completed him.
* * *
ROSE’S BODY QUIVERED with sensations as she curled into Maddox’s arms.
Making love with him had been intense, mind-numbing and so erotic that she never wanted it to end. He wrapped his arm around her and stroked her hair, his strong arms a fortress that would protect her from the world.
“Rose?”
“Shh, don’t say anything,” she whispered. “I just want to lie here and block out the world.”
He murmured his understanding, tucked her up against him so her chest touched his, then kissed the top of her head. Rose savored being safe for the moment and banished other thoughts from her head.
Tomorrow she and Maddox would face the questions again.
Tonight she just wanted to sleep in his arms and savor the pleasure he’d given her.
* * *
DAMMIT TO HELL. Thoreau was dead.
But Rose and that sheriff were still alive.
He watched her house from his car, his gut churning. The big announcement would come any day now. They had so much riding on it that he couldn’t take the chance on Rose’s memory returning.
He had to do something. Although he felt antsy over the idea of getting his own hands dirty.
But he’d come too far to turn back now. If Rose remembered what she’d seen twenty years ago, if she remembered him or his father, his life would be ruined.
So would his family’s.
And that was not an option.
Setting fire to Rose’s house would work. Kill her and McCullen together.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He glanced up and down the road, making sure no other cars were around. The lights were off in the house, the bedroom dark.
Tugging the hoodie up over his head, he slipped from the car. He retrieved the gas can and his matches from the trunk, then crept through the bushes to the side of the house. He doused the outside wall and grass with the gas, then spread it all along the back wall to the opposite side. Too dangerous to do the front. Someone might drive up.
His pulse hammered as he struck a match and dropped it onto the gas. The fire ignited within seconds. He hurried to the far wall, then dropped another match, smiling as it sparked, and the fire began to ripple along the house, crackling and popping as it ate the wood.
One last match and he darted back through the bushes and slipped inside his vehicle to watch the house erupt into flames.
Chapter Eighteen
The strong smell of smoke jarred Maddox from sleep.
He sat up and looked around the bedroom, confused momentarily by the dark. He was in Rose’s bed. They’d made love and had fallen asleep.
Was he dreaming about a fire?
He slid from bed and eased toward the closed door, and felt it. Not hot but...the smell of smoke was stronger.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he pulled it open. Just as he feared, smoke seeped up the stairs.
Instantly on alert, he ran to Rose and shook her. “Rose, the house is on fire. We need to get out.”
“What?” Rose vaulted up, eyes wide with panic.
“There’s smoke downstairs.” Maddox yanked on his jeans and shirt, then grabbed his gun from the nightstand. Rose took his cue, grabbed her clothes and hurriedly dressed.
Maddox snatched his phone and called 911. “The house is on fire. Get the fire department here now!”
Rose hurried to the door and followed him into the hall. They started down the steps, smoke clogging the air and nearly blinding them. When they reached the landing, he glanced at the hall. The back area was filled with smoke, but the front of the house was slightly clearer.
Flames crawled into the den along the floor, shooting upward and eating the drapes.
Rose started toward the mantel. “My music boxes,” Rose said, choking on a cry.
Maddox yanked on her hand. “We have to get out first.”
But Rose jerked away to retrieve the music boxes. “No, they’re all I have left of my mother!”
“I’ll come back and get them.” Heat speared his arms and hands as he glanced into the kitchen. Flames rippled along the floor and walls, swirling higher. The smoke grew thicker, stinging his eyes.
The sheer curtains were ablaze. Wood crackled and popped, and a board snapped from the ceiling and crashed down. Rose coughed and stumbled, but he caught her, curving his arm around her to steady her as he coaxed her toward the door. “Come on. It’s spreading fast.”
Remembering the trap he’d walked into at the warehouse, he cautiously opened the front door, drew his weapon and scanned the yard. What if the killer had started the fire to draw them out so he could kill them?
* * *
ROSE COVERED HER MOUTH, desperately trying not to inhale smoke. Behind her, the fire was eating her house alive.
After all that had happened, she shouldn’t let it upset her. The only things of sentimental value in the house were the music boxes. The thought of losing them made tears sting her eyes.
She wanted to turn back and get them, but flames were licking at the sofa and chair, feeding on the fabric. The room was so thick with smoke, she could hardly see the mantel now.
Maddox tugged at her hand. “Come on, but stay low, Rose. Whoever set this could be waiting outside to ambush us.”
Fear clawed at Rose. He was right. The killer had been cunning enough to lure Maddox to that warehouse. He could be here now watching, just waiting on them to run out.
Terrified, she stooped low, staying behind Maddox as they darted through the room, then out the door and across the driveway. He opened the door to his car and ushered her inside. “Stay down.”
She ducked in the seat, burying her head in her hands as he scanned the area. Seconds later, a siren wailed, tires screeching as a fire engine roared closer and swung into her driveway.
Maddox hurried to meet the firefighters, and she watched from the safety of the car as they vaulted into action and dragged hoses toward the house.
Maddox ran back to her and leaned into the car. “Are you okay?”
Rose nodded although she wasn’t okay at all. How could she be?
Flames burst from the roof of the house, glowing bright in the early morning light, windows shattering and wood crackling as the fire raged out of control.
“I’ll be right back.”
Rose clenched her hands together and watched in horror as Maddox darted up the drive and ran back into the house. One of the firefighters tried to stop him, but he forged ahead, the fireman on his trail.
The firefighters were shouting orders, dumping water on the flames, but it was a lost cause. The roof in the back of the house caved in with a thunderous roar.
Rose scanned the front lawn. Was Maddox all right? Had he survived the bomb at the warehouse only to die now?
Anxious, she paced across the grass. It seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes later when he finally emerged.
Her heart swelled with emotions. His face was streaked with dirt and soot, his clothes dotted with ashes but his arms were full.
He’d kept his word and saved her music boxes.
* * *
MADDOX CARRIED AS MANY of the music boxes as he could while the firefighter had grabbed the remaining ones. It had been stupid as hell to go back inside.
But the antiques meant so much to Rose that he couldn’t
bear for her to lose them. Not after she’d already lost so much.
She ran toward him, her face pale. Still, the gratitude in her eyes made it worth the risk he’d taken as he set the music boxes on the ground.
She threw her arms around him. “Maddox...you could have died in there.”
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice hoarse with smoke.
“How did the fire get started?” one of the firefighters asked.
Maddox gritted his teeth. “My guess, it was arson. I want the fire investigator to search for an accelerant.” His explanation about the earlier attacks on Rose was met with a scowl.
“I’ll call the fire chief and get him out here right away.”
“Thanks.” He stepped to the side to make the call, and Maddox buzzed Hoberman. “Yes, I want the scene gone over inch by inch. Maybe he messed up this time and we’ll find some evidence to nail him.”
“I’ll be right there with a crew.”
Maddox hung up and turned to see Rose sitting on the lawn with the music boxes around her, watching her house disintegrate.
The next two hours were chaos. The fire chief arrived and began combing the place, then Hoberman and his team rolled up.
Hoberman cornered Maddox. “I talked to Littleton. He finally got something on Thoreau.”
“What did he find out?”
“Thoreau’s real name was Jim Hinley. He was former military, a sniper. Five years ago, he got out of the army and decided to make his living using the skills he’d learned in the service.”
“Did he have any family? Parents? A wife?”
“No,” Hoberman said. “Mother died before he joined the service. And he was never married. I talked to his commanding officer and he said the guy didn’t make friends. Was a real loner.”
So he fit the profile of a killer—no personal connections.
Hoberman went to meet his crime team and start processing the remains of the house. Maddox headed over to the fire chief. “Find anything yet?”
“Yeah, a gas can.” The fire chief lifted his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “Looks like the perpetrator poured gas all along the outside of the house, then lit a match.”
Son of a bitch.
Bitterness at the man who’d tormented Rose, and taken her home from her, enraged Maddox.
