by Nina Bruhns
Pritchett blinked first. "Couldn't." He folded his arms across his chest. "But I wouldn't if I could."
Roman nodded. "I understand. But I'll need to test ballistics on all the shotguns belonging to your men. To eliminate them as suspects. I'd like it to be voluntary."
After a short hesitation, Pritchett said, "I'll pass on your request. Anything else?"
Roman held up the paper in his hand. "I'd like to talk to the men on this list who were here two years ago."
"That can be arranged. When would you like to debrief them?"
"As soon as possible. How about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday. Most of the men won't be working. Be here at eleven hundred hours and I'll have them assembled."
With that, Pritchett ushered them back to the Jeep. Again, RaeAnne got a prickling sensation in the back of her neck, and for the first time noticed the tall, razor-wire-topped link fence surrounding the entire encampment. The three other men hadn't moved a foot from their spots.
With deliberate composure, she maneuvered the Jeep through the wide gate and out of camp. All four men stood watching until they drove out of sight and down the track toward Cleary.
She couldn't get out of there fast enough. The whole place gave her the creeps. As soon as the last cabin disappeared from view, she gunned it, taking the narrow forest curves at high speed until they were safely back in known territory.
"Cara, what's wrong?"
At the last second she swerved off the road and onto the turnout at her thinking spot, coming to an abrupt halt. She wiped her palms on her jeans. "Damn, Roman, what was with that place?"
"How do you mean?"
"It was like … like a prison camp or something. Didn't you feel it?"
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, letting the purr of the motor and the familiar tang of the sun-warmed vinyl upholstery soothe her jangled nerves. A moment later the engine sputtered to a halt and she felt Roman's strong fingers dust over her cheek. She smiled, opening her eyes to his concerned gaze. He'd gotten out and was opening her door.
"Come on, let's go sit for a while and talk."
Hand in hand they made the short hike to the spectacular overlook. As soon as her bottom settled on the giant granite slab she felt better.
"I'm not like this," she said, looking up at Roman, who had yet to sit. "I don't get all touchy-feely with vibes and stuff."
He chuckled. "I know. So what was it about the Tecopa Lumber camp that got to you?"
"Besides the six-foot razor-wire fence?" She gazed out over the valley below, trying to match words to feelings. The long grass waved in the meadow, the stream gurgled past her stone cabin.
"It was too perfect," she finally said. "Neat, clean, silent. Nobody was just goofing around, no loud music, no laughing men. Like you'd expect in a boisterous all-male colony."
"They were probably all out in the forest cutting trees," Roman suggested as he went down on his haunches next to her. "And how do you know there aren't any women working there?"
She snorted softly and cut him a look. "Check your list. I'll bet you a night in my bed there isn't a female on it."
His brows shot up. "You must be damn sure of yourself."
"I am." She grinned as he dug out the paper and meticulously went through the names. She knew what he'd find, but it was kinda fun seeing him sweat, hoping she was mistaken.
She didn't know what had possessed her to say something that reckless. Must have been nerves. It wasn't as if she'd ever honor that bet, if by some miracle she was proven wrong. But she wasn't, as evidenced by the word Roman said disgustedly as he stuffed the paper back into his pocket.
"Am I right?"
"What do you think?" He made a face at her as he plopped onto the boulder and stretched out his legs. "You're a cruel woman, to give a man hope like that."
She chuckled. He heaved out a suffering sigh and studied the desert in the distance. "So, you think there's something going on at Tecopa, or do you just think they're taking camp discipline to an extreme?"
She considered for a second. "Hard to say. Those three men sure looked like guards to me. Why would a lumber operation need guards?"
"It's Friday. Maybe they're payroll guards."
"I hadn't thought of that." She was starting to feel silly. "You're right. It was probably all my imagination."
"I don't think so." He lay back on the rock and stacked his hands under his head. "I felt it, too. And I never disregard gut instinct."
She turned to look at him. "You did?"
"Yep. There is definitely something fishy going on at Tecopa Lumber. The problem is, I doubt it has to do with the poaching."
"Why do you say that?"
"Doesn't fit. Our poachers are small-time opportunists, striking only when they run across a random animal. They might organize an occasional hunting expedition, but that's the extent of their planning. This thing at the camp, whatever it is, it's very well-organized and meticulously planned."
"But is it something illegal?"
He shrugged. "Who knows. Could just be the payroll and they're being extra cautious."
"Still, what about the murder? One of them could be involved in killing Jason Danforth, couldn't they?"
"Yep." He turned to her. "That is one of my two big questions."
His serious, dark eyes drew her in with their power, and a thousand warning bells went off.
"What's your other big question?"
He reached out and circled her wrist with his fingers, then slowly slid them up her arm. When he couldn't reach any farther he gave her a gentle tug.
"My other question is… Why did you offer me a night in your bed?"
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
RaeAnne's pulse rocketed out of control as Roman continued to tug on her arm, bringing her closer and closer to his stretched-out body. If she didn't stop him, she'd end up spread on top of him like new-fallen snow.
"Well?"
"I didn't offer," she declared, resisting his pull.
"I distinctly remember—"
"It was a bet. One I knew I'd win."
"Did you really?"
"Of course I did. And so did you."
His brow went up and with a deliberate movement he withdrew the paper from his pocket. "As a matter of fact, there are a few disputable names on this list."
"Don't even think—"
"This one, for instance." Without letting her arm go, he maneuvered the paper around so she could see it. "Pat Campbell. Could be a woman."
"Oh, sure."
"And here." He moved his fingers down the list. "Taylor Brooks. Or how about Caroll Smith?"
"You're grasping at straws, Roman."
"I don't think so."
In an instant the paper had disappeared into his pocket and his other hand was gripping her waist. A jolt of heat ripped through her. Suddenly her body was pressing into his. Her breasts sang with pleasure, her hips vibrated with delicious anticipation as they settled over his.
He let go of her arm and grasped her other side, his thumb resting perilously close to her breast.
"I say I won that bet."
Gazing into her eyes, he just held her there above him, not doing the things with his hands they both knew he could. Her body yearned to feel them slide slowly over her, setting off sparks of ecstasy as they touched sensitive, hidden places.
She licked her dry lips. "There's no way of knowing, is there?"
"Not until we talk to them. You still haven't answered my question."
Her brain was totally paralyzed, trapped by his commanding presence under her as surely as her body was held captive by his powerful hands. "What question?"
"You keep saying you aren't going to sleep with me. If that's true, why did you offer me a night in your bed?"
At the juncture of their thighs, she felt his excitement grow. Her legs turned to jelly, gradually slipping down the outside of his to rest on the smooth, cool rock.
"All's fair in love and war," he murmured.
"This isn't love," she returned. "This is sex."
He was silent for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I offered you love. You turned me down."
"It wouldn't work."
"But this does." He held her hips firmly and ground them in a circle over him. Leaving no doubt what he meant. "Give me now, RaeAnne. We can figure out the future later. But right now I'll die if I don't have you."
He raised up to capture her lips and she thought surely she would tremble into tiny pieces. Goose bumps ripped over her as he lifted her T-shirt up and off, then rolled her to her back and gently laid her on the soft cotton.
His low moan matched hers. His seeking fingers captured her breast and squeezed seductively as he moved over her.
"Ah, cara, don't deny me."
"I—" She felt her jeans slide over her bottom and down her legs, and the words died on her lips. "Roman," she whispered, as yet unsure whether she was protesting or welcoming his brazenness.
"You are still the most beautiful woman in the world," he said, his voice low and rough with need.
Her heart swelled painfully. She loved him so much, regardless of how impossible it all was. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, lip to lip. "Kiss me," she softly ordered.
He kissed her. Long and hot and wet and thorough.
The warm breeze played over her bare skin along with his fingers, his touch searing her hotter than the late-afternoon sun. His mouth plundered as his hands claimed, and it was all she could do to keep from pulling him between her thighs and demanding an end to her enormous craving.
"Please, Roman," she moaned.
"I'm here, cara. I'm not going anywhere."
If only that were true.
She gasped in pleasure as his mouth sought her breasts. "Yes," she urged him. "Oh, yes."
It had been so long. Last time they'd come together so quickly, so explosively, there hadn't been time to enjoy the delicious skim of his tongue, the nip of his teeth, the scrape of his hair over her body. And out here in the open air, being surrounded by nothing but the robin's-egg sky and sheltering mountains, only heightened the freedom and forbidden delight of his sensual ministrations.
He pulled on the turgid tip of her breast and her nipple splintered with electric pleasure. "Harder," she gasped, and he obliged, suckling so deep and demandingly she felt it all the way to her very core.
With a growl be switched to the other breast. And she fell. Down into a whirlwind of sensation she plummeted. Without pausing he slid between her legs and spread them wide. Her breath caught. Suddenly his mouth was on her, at her most sensitive center. She cried out, the setting sun prisming into a thousand million sparkling rainbows all around her. Her back arched as a torrent of pleasure caught hold and tossed her into the churning abyss of rapture that was his mouth and tongue.
And then she shattered.
It went on and on, and when it was over he was inside her. Then it started all over again. Building and growing, hammering through her, finally delivering a burst of indescribable bliss, until at last the mountains stopped spinning and the skies were only blue.
He rolled off with a soft groan, cuddling her to his side.
"Your bruises," she murmured, kissing his shoulder.
"What bruises?" he asked and gathered her closer.
It felt so good, so right to be in his arms again. She'd given up ages ago trying to find a man who could make her feel anything close to this contented and thoroughly loved. Making love with Roman had always been perfect. From the first tender brush of his lips to the last powerful thrust of his manhood. And this was no exception.
Like a shipwrecked sailor she lay in his embrace, sated, pleasantly exhausted from their physical joining.
And then, it hit her.
"Oh, no," she whispered, panic squeezing at her heart. This time he hadn't withdrawn.
* * *
Roman didn't move. He hardly dared to breathe. He knew immediately what she meant.
Damn. How could this have happened?
Last time at least he'd had the presence of mind to pull out at the last moment. This time he'd been too far gone to remember, and apparently she'd been, too.
It was just crazy, almost as if both of them had a secret, unconscious wish to get RaeAnne pregnant.
He thought about that for about three seconds and realized it could well be true—on his part. But not hers. Having his baby was the last thing she wanted. She'd made that crystal clear at every opportunity. She may find him physically irresistible, but she didn't consider him husband material.
"It'll be all right," he said, hoping like hell he could make it so.
He felt a puff of air on his neck as she sighed. "That's easy for you to say."
"I'll take care of you. I swear."
"I don't need taking care of."
"I will anyway."
She looked up at him, eyes serious. "How?"
That stopped him.
At his hesitation, she slipped from his embrace. "Just as I thought."
"Wait." He grabbed her hand before she could stand. "I'll do anything you want." Instantly he knew that was the wrong thing to say.
She shook him off and reached for her clothes. "You'll quit your job?"
"What are you asking?"
"Sell your motorcycle and settle down in my town?"
His mouth dropped open as he struggled to understand what she wanted of him.
"Have you even once asked where I live?"
Almost desperately, he jumped to his feet and yanked up his pants to follow her quick stride toward the Jeep.
"RaeAnne!" He jogged after her, catching her by the shoulders, swinging her around to face him. His heart blanched when he saw tears in her eyes. "Cara, baby, please. Don't cry. Yell, hit me, anything else, but don't cry. We'll work this out."
"How?" she demanded again, as one lone teardrop slipped onto her lashes. "Oh, why did you come back? For eighteen years I've been just fine hating your guts. And now— Oh! Never mind!"
She wrenched herself free and ran. He stared after her, wondering what the hell to do. He wanted to chase after her, grab her and compel her by any means necessary to drive to Vegas and marry him today.
He drilled a hand through his hair. So much for the liberal, New Age, sensitive guy he'd always thought he was. RaeAnne seemed to bring out something primitive, something primal in him that he didn't know how to deal with. Half of him wanted to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to his cave while the other half just stood there, gaping in mortification at such uncivilized behavior.
Muttering a curse through gritted teeth, he ran after her, and found her waiting in the purring Jeep, back straight as a fence post and chin high.
"Honey—"
She held up one rigid hand. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? Let's just try to get through this investigation. By the time it's solved, hopefully we'll know if I'm—"
Her words halted, and her jaw clenched.
"Cara—"
"No, let me finish." She glanced over at him and her expression thawed a little. "I'm sorry about what I said back there. I want you to know I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself."
"And you think that makes it better for me?"
"I'd hoped. Look—"
This time he held up a hand. "No, it's my turn to talk. You asked if I'd quit my job, move to your town. Yes, I will. I'll marry you. I want to make this right any way I can."
She stared at him for so long he started thinking she'd gone into shock. Finally she let out a long breath. "Well. You certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet. But I'm afraid I'll have to decline your generous sacrifice."
Sacrifice? "No, that's not what—"
"Would you be saying
this—any of this—if you didn't think I could be pregnant?"
"Well," he hedged, "probably not at this exact moment. But—"
"I rest my case," she interrupted, and let the clutch out. "Being pregnant isn't a reason to get married these days. Not for me, anyway."
He bristled. "It is for me."
She glanced over and he could swear there was a glimmer of respect under all that mistrust in her eyes. "That's very noble. But we're not even sure if I am pregnant. Don't make any offers you'll regret when we find out I'm not. Which we will."
"I've already been regretting not marrying you for eighteen years. I doubt if anything I say now will change that."
The Jeep rolled up to the stone cabin, and she turned off the engine. "Marrying me now won't alter the past, Roman. Nothing will." Her eyes met his. "Let it go."
"I wish I could," he quietly said. "But I can't."
* * *
Bugs had already gone down the mountain by the time they got back to the cabin, so they were on their own. Despite that, dinner was surprisingly low-key. Roman wasn't exactly sure what kind of uneasy truce had been struck between them as they washed up and settled in for the evening, but a truce there was.
He built a river-cobble fire ring between the cabin and the creek, and over it grilled some chicken and corn on the cob they'd picked up at a store coming back from Toby's. RaeAnne popped the cork on a bottle of good Merlot, and together they bundled up against the growing chill. The mountains seemed to snuggle up around them, pulling their snow-blankets around their shoulders and surrounding them with an ambiance of peaceful quiet. Even the frogs and the insects in the meadow seemed mellower tonight, the soft chirping a muted score to their low conversation.
He and RaeAnne ended up stretching out in front of the fire until much too late, eating, drinking and sharing stories of their lives.
And maybe avoiding bedtime.
Roman had never been so torn in his life. He knew he wouldn't sleep a wink unless it was in her embrace. And yet, how could he possibly ask her to accept him into her bed after all that had been said this afternoon?
Damn.
He smiled as she related an incident going through Turkish customs for an archaeological survey team she'd been on one summer. Dang, and he'd thought his life had been exciting. Even six years in the Navy didn't compare to some of the stuff she was talking about.
