by Gina Wilkins
Damn it, he should be pushing Lindsey into the guy’s arms—for her own good.
Lindsey chose that moment to look his way and send him a smile that made his heart stop—and then resume again at roughly twice the speed. He saw now that it was an entirely different smile than the ones she’d been giving Scott. If this smile was as readable to everyone else as it was to him, all their efforts at discretion had been wasted.
“Excuse me,” he said abruptly to Riley, and made his way across the room to Lindsey’s side.
Lindsey greeted him by catching his left hand and pulling him closer to her—a seemingly casual gesture made more intimate by a warm squeeze of fingers. “Dan, you’ve met Dr. McAdoo, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Marjorie introduced us earlier.” The two men nodded cordially, but Dan sensed that Scott was sizing him up and wondering about his relationship with Lindsey. Apparently Dan wasn’t the only one who had noticed nuances in the smile she’d given him.
The room seemed suddenly too small. Too crowded. The music and laughter were too loud. And too many people seemed to be staring at them.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he said, making an abrupt decision. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“You’re leaving?” Lindsey looked more curious than surprised. “Did you get a call?”
“I, uh, have some things to do.”
She smiled wryly. “In other words, you’ve had all the socializing you can take and you’d rather be working.”
He searched her expression for any sign of mockery or criticism, but found only gentle understanding. But he didn’t know whether to trust his interpretation—or the longevity of her patience.
Dan took his leave of Scott, then turned toward the door, resisting his reluctance to leave Lindsey there with the other guy.
Marjorie caught him before he reached the door. “Surely you aren’t leaving already. Pierce is going to sing for us.”
“I’m sorry to miss that, but I have some calls to make this evening concerning the arson investigation. And I want to follow up on the one slim lead we have in the Eddie Stamps case—his possible sighting in Little Rock. I’ve faxed a photo of him to a friend in the LRPD and he was going to do some checking around for me this evening.”
As he’d expected, Marjorie’s concern for the missing teenager outweighed her desire to keep Dan at her party. “Oh, I hope they find him. Poor Opal is worrying herself sick.”
“We’re doing all we can.”
“I know you are.” She smiled and patted his arm. “Thank you for stopping by, Dan. It’s always good to see you.”
On an impulse, he brushed a kiss across her softly lined cheek. “Good night, Marjorie.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he stepped out into the quiet parking lot—and saw Marjorie watching him with an expression that made him wonder what well-intentioned schemes were forming in her mind now. Remembering Riley’s comments about the dear lady’s matchmaking instincts, Dan sincerely hoped she wasn’t considering him as her next victim. His social life was complicated enough at the moment.
Chapter Eleven
Dan didn’t go to his office when he left the diner. Instead he went home, making calls and doing paperwork from there. Because it was too quiet in his mobile home, he turned on the radio to a classic rock station. Maybe by concentrating on his work and the music, he wouldn’t have a chance to dwell on memories of Lindsey smiling up at handsome Dr. McAdoo.
It was just after 9:00 p.m. when someone knocked on his front door. Remembering that his last unexpected visitor had been his niece, he hurried to answer, hoping Polly hadn’t stumbled into further trouble.
His caller wasn’t Polly.
Giving him a breezy smile that didn’t quite match the expression in her eyes, Lindsey held out a paper plate covered with a paper napkin. “You left before Marjorie brought out the food. I brought you some treats.”
He was well aware that the snacks weren’t the reason she had come to him. He wondered how much courage it had taken for her to make the overture. He wasn’t even sure he had enough to take her up on it.
He saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty cross her face—as if she’d read the doubt in his expression. And he knew he wouldn’t be turning her away. “Come in,” he said, moving out of the doorway.
She seemed to square her shoulders before she complied. Coming to a stop in the living room, she glanced around with open curiosity, making Dan realize that she hadn’t visited him here since shortly after he’d moved in nearly two and a half years earlier.
Trying to see the place through her eyes, he almost grimaced. He hadn’t done much in the way of decorating. The furniture was plain and functional, and the walls were bare of decoration. A state-of-the-art computer system rested on a desk in one corner of the room, next to a small, overflowing bookcase. The place looked more like a temporary office than a home. Maybe because that was the way he tended to think about it.
He looked at her again. She still wore the skimpy, jewel-toned striped sweater and low-slung, boot-cut jeans she’d worn to the party. As far as he was concerned, this outfit was every bit as alluring as the sexy green dress she’d worn to the March Mixer or the even more blatantly seductive black dress she’d had on that night at Gaylord’s.
He realized abruptly that she was still holding the plate of snacks from the party. “Here, let me take that.”
He set the plate on the coffee table and then stuck his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what else to do with them. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Decaf. Would you like a cup?”
She sat on the couch and draped an arm across the back. “Coffee sounds good.”
It was obvious that she was in no hurry to leave. She looked completely at ease reclining so comfortably on his couch; he wondered just how difficult it was for her to maintain that casual pose. He couldn’t seem to manage it, himself.
It only took a few minutes to fetch two mugs of coffee from his tiny, rarely used kitchen. He knew how Lindsey drank hers—with just a touch of milk—so he didn’t bother asking. Setting both cups on the coffee table, he sat next to her on the couch. “What did you bring?” he asked, lifting the paper napkin from the plate she’d brought—a blatant delaying tactic.
“A stack of those pecan fudge balls you like so much.”
He smiled in anticipation. “No one makes these better than Marjorie. Do you want one?”
“Thanks, but I ate way too many of them before I left the party.”
He popped a candy into his mouth, savoring the taste. He’d always had a predilection for chocolate. He was just starting to acknowledge an even more compelling weakness for Lindsey.
She watched him over the rim of her mug as she sipped her coffee. He held his own mug cradled loosely in his hands, searching his mind for something innocuous to say. Nothing came to him right offhand. Lindsey set her mug on the table, then picked up another piece of fudge. “You aren’t going to stop with just one, are you?”
“I’m trying to exercise self control.”
The entendre made her smile as she lifted the candy to his mouth. “Surely it’s okay to give in to temptation every once in a while.”
He let her pop the candy into his mouth. Her fingertips lingered against his lips for a moment, brushing across them like a fleeting kiss. He almost choked on the fudge. He was forced to wash it down with a gulp of coffee.
“Am I making you nervous again?” she asked in a murmur.
“No.” Finally surrendering to the instincts he’d been fighting, he set his coffee mug beside hers and then turned to reach for her. “But maybe you should be nervous.”
“You don’t scare me, Dan Meadows,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Even though he knew he should, he didn’t try to argue with her any further. She wouldn’t have listened to him, anyway.
The kiss flavored with chocolate and coffee, lasted a very long time. When it finally ended
, their relationship had changed irrevocably.
Maybe Lindsey should have spent more time getting to know Dr. McAdoo. Probably that would have been the wisest, most logical decision for her to make. But she’d chosen to come to Dan instead. And for once he wasn’t going to try to change her mind.
He wasn’t a saint. And this time Lindsey had pushed his willpower beyond its limits.
A surge of strength carried him to his feet, Lindsey held high against his chest. She gave a laughing gasp and clung to him, her gaze locked trustingly with his.
“Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” he asked her, his voice a strained growl.
She only smiled and tightened her arms around his neck. “I’ve been waiting much too long for this to change my mind now.”
He pressed his mouth to hers again, then moved toward the bedroom. He wondered if she could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Doubts still hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, but they’d been pushed aside by reckless anticipation. He’d given her more than enough chances to back out. Now he was calling her bluff.
The bedroom was small, dimly lit, as sparsely decorated as the rest of the place. Hardly the most romantic setting for this momentous step, but it would have to do. Besides, Dan thought as he lowered Lindsey to the clean, inexpensive white sheets, she might as well find out exactly what she was getting into with him.
This was who he was, take him or leave him. And he found himself fervently hoping that Lindsey would decide to take him. All of him.
Lindsey found it rather flattering that Dan’s hands shook as he fumbled with her clothes. She never would have imagined that she could make him tremble.
She grew self-conscious when he unsnapped her black lace bra to reveal the slight curves beneath. “Small,” she murmured with a wry smile.
He covered her breasts with his hands, his palms warm and deliciously rough against her tender skin. “Perfect,” he assured her, and she heard only sincerity in his deep voice.
He lowered his head to take her right nipple gently between his teeth. She felt all the air leave her lungs. There wasn’t enough breath left for her to even gasp his name. He used his lips and tongue to trace her body, his teeth to thrill her. There was no longer any awkwardness in his movements—and now she was the one who trembled.
Growing impatient, she tugged at his shirt. It wasn’t fair that she was stripped to tiny panties while he was still fully covered. She wanted the same freedom to touch and explore that he enjoyed.
The body she revealed was lean and sinewy. His tan attested to the hours he’d spent outside, and scattered scars served as evidence of the adventures that had filled those hours. Dan had been a bit of a dare-devil in his youth; he and B.J. had rarely met a challenge they hadn’t tried to conquer. She’d been so in awe of Dan then.
She hadn’t changed much in that respect, she admitted ruefully, holding her breath as she ran her hands down his muscular back to the waistband of his jeans.
Dan returned his attention to her mouth, kissing her slowly. Thoroughly. Intimately.
He kissed her like a lover.
Finally releasing her mouth so they could breathe, he lifted his head. “You’re still sure about this?”
Why was he having such a difficult time believing that she knew exactly what she was doing? How could she possibly regret something she’d been dreaming about for so long?
She cupped his face in her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “I am absolutely, positively, unequivocally sure.”
“That sounds pretty certain,” he murmured with a faint smile.
“I’m glad you’re finally getting that straight. Now would you please go back to what you were doing?”
“I’ll try to remember where I left off.”
Putting her mouth to his, she spoke against his lips. “See if this jogs your memory.”
She kissed him without holding anything back. She kissed him until he didn’t have enough breath left to ask any more foolish questions. Which was just as well: by the time that explosive embrace ended, she couldn’t have formed a coherent answer had her life depended on it.
Being the careful, thoughtful, well-prepared type that he was, Dan had protection stashed in his nightstand. Lindsey waited impatiently for him to return to her, and greeted him eagerly when he did. Dan took another long, leisurely tour of her body, dropping kisses from the tip of her nose to the tops of her toes, missing very few spots in between. He found erotic places she hadn’t even known were there, and then aptly demonstrated just how wonderful those places could feel.
As much as he would let her, Lindsey returned the favor—kissing, stroking and nibbling any part of him she could reach. She was rewarded with an occasional appreciative rumble from deep in his chest.
The ultimate reward came when Dan’s patience ran out and his movements grew more intense, more focused on a final goal. He came to her with a murmur of welcome. There was no shock of strangeness when he surged into her, but a rush of joy, an almost overwhelming sense of rightness and familiarity. Of finally coming home.
So long, Lindsey thought, arching to take him deeper. She had been waiting for so long….
Even as waves of pleasure washed over her, temporarily shutting down all her other senses, she was aware of her delight that Dan had finally realized they belonged together.
He gasped her name when he climaxed only moments later. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of his feelings for her, but she would settle for what she could get. At least for now.
Dan wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling as he lay on his back in his bed, staring at the shadowy ceiling above him. So many emotions waged inside him that it was difficult to isolate and identify them. He knew that fear lurked somewhere among them.
Lindsey lay with her head nestled into his shoulder. Though she was being very still, he didn’t think she was asleep.
He didn’t have a clue what she thinking.
She was so light against him, her figure slender and willowy. He knew now that there was a lot of passion packed into that small package. She held a lot of power in her small hands—the capability to bring him to his knees if he wasn’t careful.
“You’re getting nervous again,” she murmured, making him wonder if mind reading was among her powers.
“I’m not nervous,” he lied—just in case his thoughts were still a mystery to him.
She laughed softly. “Liar.”
She was only guessing, he assured himself, letting the accusation pass unanswered.
Lindsey shifted into a more comfortable position against him. Her soft bare skin brushing against his caused an immediate, and somewhat startling, reaction in his groin.
He cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, hungry or anything?”
“No, not really.” The very primness of her response let him know she was still amused by him.
“I’m glad you’re finding all this so entertaining,” he muttered.
She reached up to stroke his evening-rough skin. “When I’m happy, I can’t help laughing.”
His momentary irritation vanished. Lindsey’s happiness was, after all, extremely important to him. If laughing at him made her happy, then he might as well take it gracefully.
She brushed her lips against his throat, lingering to plant a kiss just beneath his ear. This time he made no effort to hide his response. One smooth move, and he had her on top of him. She gave another startled, breathless laugh, then covered his mouth with hers.
Lindsey was awakened by the shrill ring of a telephone. Her first instinct was to grope toward her nightstand. When her hand encountered empty air where her phone should be, she opened her eyes, only then realizing that she wasn’t in her own bed.
At the same time that fact occurred to her, she heard Dan’s deep voice saying, “Hello?”
Moments later he sat up in the bed, the sheets falling to his waist. Holding the bedclothes to her chin, Lindsey pushed herself onto one elbow, peering blearily at the clock. It
was only 5:00 a.m. Poor Dan—how often did he get roused out of bed like this? His was definitely not a forty-hour-a-week job. She didn’t fault him for that; she admired him for taking his responsibilities so seriously.
He hung up and turned to her. His voice was still gruff from sleep when he said, “I’ve got to go.”
“Not another fire?”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his clothes. “No.”
Something in his tone told her she would very likely be interested on a professional level in the call he’d just received. And Dan knew it. “What’s going on?”
He answered with obvious reluctance. “Eddie Stamps has turned up. He’s holed up in his bedroom with a gun.”
“Oh, no.” She jumped from the bed and started groping for her clothes. “I guess it will look better if we take separate cars. I’ll meet you there.”
“There’s no need for you to go there at all,” he said, shoving his feet into his boots. “The kid has a gun, Lindsey.”
“And I intend to stay out of range. But I will be there, Dan. This is my job.”
“It’s my job, not yours. It’s too dangerous for you to be there. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“My job is to be on the scene covering the news in person whenever possible.”
“Yeah, well, you’re still wearing the bandage from the last time you did that, or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten, and I promise I’ll be more careful this time. But I am going. You can’t stop me.”
“Damn it.”
The curse was basically an acknowledgment that she was right about him not being able to keep her away. He could order her to a safe distance once she arrived at the scene; he could even keep her off Mrs. Stamps’s property, but he couldn’t stop her from hovering in the background. And she suspected he knew very well that she would even risk disobeying his direct orders if she thought they interfered with her freedom to report the news.
“Just stay out of my way,” he warned.
She gave him a cheeky smile. “Yes, Chief.”
