One more heave. That’s all she needed.
The beam overhead sounded like a lion’s roar as it finally broke.
Ashes fell. Embers.
Her heart lurched into her throat with the adrenaline and she pulled with every fiber of her being.
The beam crashed to the stable floor, erupting in flames only inches from where Wilder had been. With no time for shock, she hauled him through the open doors and a few feet away.
Thank You, Lord.
The fire truck siren blared.
She collapsed next to him. “Wilder.” She patted his cheeks, which were black with soot. His hair was wet and matted to his forehead. “Wake up!”
He didn’t move, but she saw his chest faintly rise and fall.
“Please wake up!”
Suddenly, he jolted up, coughing and beating his chest.
Relief flooded her. “You’re alive,” she said and threw herself against him while he coughed into her hair.
First responders rushed up and attended to Wilder.
“Ma’am,” a young paramedic said, “you have a burn on your arm.”
She glanced down at her forearm, where an ember had singed her skin. Red. Blistered. “Yes, I guess I do.” Now that he mentioned it, the pain throbbed.
He cleaned and bandaged the wound.
The firefighters doused the flames, but it was too late for the stable. It was gone, leaving nothing but smoke and ash.
Wilder growled and knocked the oxygen mask away. “I’m fine.” A deep scowl lined his filthy brow. Eyes smoldering, he stood and watched the stable.
Cosette stood beside him. “They’re only doing their jobs. You inhaled a lot of smoke. And you have a head injury.”
“I’ve had worse,” he groused.
“It’s just a stable, Wilder.” She laid a hand on his arm, but he wrenched it away.
“I don’t care about this stupid stable!”
Cosette flinched at his tone, his volume.
He pointed at her arm. “You’re hurt. Because of me.” He stalked toward the arriving police car.
If he didn’t care about the stable, then why had he come out here alone to try and save it? Unless... She rushed to the police car, where Wilder was speaking with an officer. “...he got me before I could do anything.”
He hadn’t come out to save the burning stable. He’d been attacked. On his own property! She’d warned him this would happen. That Jeffrey would try to kill him.
“You came out here and heard something.” The officer diligently wrote on his notepad. “You turned and someone whacked you, then set the barn on fire?”
“Correct.”
“Why did you come out so late?”
Wilder stepped closer and the policeman shifted backward. Leave it to Wilder to intimidate even an officer of the law. “I can go anywhere on my property at any hour. The question you need to be asking is who was dumb enough to be out here, knowing I have security. It’s a security company.” As if a light bulb had flicked on, Wilder strode toward the house.
“Wait!” Cosette called and chased after him.
She reached him at the front door. “Wilder, did you see who attacked you? Was it Jeffrey?”
He ignored her, stormed into the control room and disarmed the squealing alarm. Searching the feed, he watched as a figure skulked around the stable.
Cosette shook her head. “That’s not Jeffrey.”
“No, it’s not.”
It was the older guy from the painting crew. His face was hidden, but the ball cap was unmistakable. He always wore it. Why would he want to hurt Wilder? He couldn’t know that Wilder would be in the stable this time of night. “You must have surprised him working to set the fire.”
Wilder nodded.
“Why would the painter—”
“Frank. Frank Steadham.”
“Why would Frank want to burn down the stable? It’s not like you asked him to paint it.”
Wilder turned, raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Cosette wasn’t sure where the snark had come from. A release, maybe, from the enormous amount of fear earlier.
“I’m not sure he did. He’s been on-site enough to know we have state-of-the-art security. So if he was going to burn it to the ground, why wear the hat he wears constantly and painter’s clothing?”
Good point. “You think someone is framing him? Someone like Jeffrey?”
Wilder rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Possibly.” He snagged his cell phone and hit a button. “Wheezer, I need you to come in and work on some imaging from tonight’s footage.” He gave him the lowdown and clicked off. “We need to see if we can’t get a solid ID on Frank. Either he’s a moron, he was put up to it for a lot of cash, or it wasn’t him.”
“If you can’t get a clear picture of his face, then what?” Cosette asked.
“When I talk to him, you’ll be studying his behavior. You’ll know.”
Would she? She’d failed before.
The lieutenant entered the control room. “Mr. Flynn, the fire is out but we couldn’t salvage any of it. It appears the blaze was started in the northwest corner. Doused in gasoline. Police found an empty gas can in the woods. Took it as evidence.”
Wilder nodded. “Thank you. And thank you for dragging me out of there. I owe you.”
The lieutenant pointed at Cosette. “You owe her. She pulled you out before we arrived.”
Cosette’s neck and cheeks heated.
“I’ll get a copy of my report to you.” He grinned at Cosette. “Ma’am.”
When he left, Wilder spun on her. “That stable was kindling. You ran into it for me? That’s how you got that injury!”
“Of course I did.”
“Are you mad, woman?” Wilder raked a hand through his hair.
Cosette’s temper flared. “You think I was just gonna stand there and watch you burn? Are you mad?” She stepped into his personal space. “You’re going to jump on my case over the fact you’re alive? You have some nerve!”
“You should have gone straight to the panic room and called one of the team when you saw the fire—and stayed there until it was safe. What if Jeffrey had abducted you? Hurt you? Thrown you in the fire with me?” His voice boomed, hot and furious.
“Then we’d have burned together, you big, stupid...man!” As if she was going to cower while the fire ate him alive.
Wilder loomed over her, his voice low and menacing. “Did you just call me stupid?”
She squared her shoulders, temper out of control. “Yeah. I’m mouthy and opinionated, remember?”
His cheek pulsed. “I’m stupid? I didn’t run into a burning barn and attempt to drag a grown man outside. You could have died.”
“I didn’t attempt it. I did it. And I’d...I’d do it again. I’d do it a hundred times,” she hollered. How could he want her to leave him there to die? Was he that prideful? Her head was on fire and ready to explode; tears betrayed her and her back ached something fierce. “You don’t know what it was like to run out there and see the strongest, bravest man I’ve ever known lying so still...so helpless, with flames licking up the walls, about to consume him. You don’t know the terror. But you’d rather die than have a woman rescue you. Have a chunk of your pride cut out.”
“That’s what you think this is about?” His eyes narrowed. “Pride? Cosette, I have a woman on my team! I put my life in her hands often. This isn’t a battle of the sexes. Now who doesn’t know who?”
“I’m on your team, too! Would you be acting like a horse’s behind if it had been Jody?”
“No! But you’re not Jody!”
No. Cosette was helpless. Defenseless. All the things she didn’t want to be anymore, but all the things Wilder saw in her.
* * *
Wilder’s anger was bubbling over and spill
ing onto Cosette. He wasn’t mad at her. Well, he was. The thought of her dying in a fire trying to save him, or being abducted, scared him more than anything. Her life was more important than his. He was supposed to be protecting her, not being blindsided and lit on fire. This could have turned out much differently.
Cosette was right, though. She hadn’t died or been kidnapped, but she had been burned. She had saved his life. Risked everything to keep him safe. Emotions from the deepest part of him rose.
“Well, you’re welcome anyway! You ungrateful jerk. I changed my mind. Next time, I might leave you!” She stormed toward the door, but he grabbed her uninjured arm and yanked her against him.
Let every fleeting thought but Cosette leave his mind as he descended on her lips.
She gasped, then met his thirst as if she were as parched as he was, as if they’d rehearsed this duet a million times.
They played it grandioso. Harmony perfected.
Raw. Uncontrollable.
She was the fire, burning, consuming, ravaging every part of him. Her hands slid into the hair at the base of his neck and he gripped her waist tighter.
How would he ever get this woman out of his very marrow? Everything about her moved him. Her love of people and her calling to care for them. Her brilliant mind. Keen sense. Her independence and bravery. And the French Cajun spice that was all Cosette. She didn’t back down. Didn’t cower. This woman was a force.
Wilder had begun with the crescendo. That’s not how he wanted to kiss her. Well, it was...but she deserved a buildup. He slowed the tempo, released his grip on her waist and framed her face, kissing her grazioso—gracefully. Just the melody. Like carefully picking out the notes one at time...discovering the song, writing it in the moment.
She deserved a sonata.
He couldn’t break away. Couldn’t stop tasting the sweetness, the goodness. He couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to.
Suddenly, she pulled away before the symphony had been completed and touched her swollen lips. Eyes wide, she shook her head. “I—that—we can’t.”
They both knew this was a dead end from the start. He’d lost control.
His heart hammered, from a kiss so amazing he’d never forget it, and from fear of never gaining that control back where Cosette was concerned. “I’m sorry. I...” What? What could he possibly tell her?
She smoothed her hair and cleared her throat. “Let’s be grown-ups. We’re clearly attracted to one another and we’ve been side by side for the past couple weeks. More than ever. Emotions are running high.”
That was an understatement. He studied her. Lipstick mostly gone, but some remained...how could that be? He shook the thought away. Before he could speak, she went on.
“And even if I did want to be romantically involved, I can’t be with you.”
The words from earlier were like a pop to the face with a wet, twisted hand towel.
He swallowed, couldn’t catch his breath. “Right.” He masked the hurt. “I’m controlling, obsessive, intrusive. And you work for me.”
A pinched look crossed her face, but then her shoulders slumped. “Yes,” she whispered. “But that’s not all, Wilder. Tell me why you hold on to Allie through Renny. Why you still keep those dice in your glove box.”
“I did.”
“You talk in anecdotes. I want full-on transparency.”
He wasn’t going to give her that. After tonight, he couldn’t if he wanted to. He was supposed to make her feel safe and he’d almost been killed. When her adrenaline crashed, she might think he was weak, and if he gave her full-on transparency, she’d definitely think that. He would not lose her respect and admiration. “I have nothing to share.” The words tasted like bitter defeat.
Cosette sighed with resignation. “Don’t kiss me again.” She slipped from the office. The sun had begun to rise, but inside, Wilder felt like night would never end.
A knock broke the silence. Beckett Marsh entered. “Wheezer called us. We’re all here. I saw the rubble. You okay?”
Wilder turned and Beckett’s eyes widened.
“What?”
Beckett slowly shook his head. “Nothin’.”
“I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.” He couldn’t bring himself to admit the guy in the stable got the jump on him. “I’ve been in here racking my brain. Let’s toss out the who and talk about the why. Why would someone want to burn down an old stable? What would that accomplish? Unless it was meant to bring Cosette outside to be abducted. But she did come outside and no one took her. I was out of commission. Beau is dead. Kariss committed suicide—but I think that may have been homicide. She either knew who took her car or she agreed to run down Cosette. Either way, someone cut a loose thread.”
Beckett pursed his lips and rapidly blinked.
“What is wrong with you?”
Clearing his throat, Beckett rubbed his eyebrow. “Nothing. It’s just hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing lipstick.” He tamped down a chuckle. “Red’s a good color for you.”
Wilder rubbed his lips, peeked at his hand. Cherry red. He opened his mouth. He had nothing. The kiss had been exposed. “It’s not what you think.” He strode to the door.
“I hope it is! If you’re wearing lipstick for any other reason, we have a serious problem.”
Wilder ignored Beckett’s laughter coming from his office and stalked to the foyer, passing Shepherd Lightman.
“Hey, you all right—dude, did you know you have on lipstick?”
Wilder growled and blasted out the front door, swiping his lips. He wanted another look around the stable and the woods.
Get focused, Wilder. Do your job. Erase the memory of the kiss.
That wasn’t going to happen. That kiss was absolutely without a doubt unforgettable.
He prowled the perimeter. Nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone could have hiked into the woods. And the more he thought about it, the less he believed it was Frank. Someone had to have set him up. Which meant CCM was being watched. Maybe he needed to add more cameras in the woods. Yes, that’s exactly what he’d do. Beef up the surrounding area. Anyone slinking about out here would be caught.
Back inside, Shep handed him a cup of steaming coffee. “I guess you’ll want extra cameras in the woods.”
“You read my mind.”
“It’s what I’d do.” He shrugged.
Evan entered, his heavy footfalls clanking along the wooden floor. “I can get on that today.”
“I’ll light a fire under the PD’s backside to see if prints were found in Cosette’s apartment.” Shep sipped his coffee. “You think this Levitts guy could have figured out Cosette was going to expand the stable?”
Build it from ground-up now. “I don’t know how.”
“Money talks,” Shep said. “Maybe he paid Frank for eavesdropping.”
Beckett turned the corner and came into the foyer. “What’s going on?”
“Conference room.” Wilder motioned and they entered the dining room-turned-meeting area and sat at the long table. “Shep thinks Frank might be on Levitts’s payroll for information.”
“He tells Levitts about the new business about to happen, and Levitts either hires him or steals his hat and puts on painter’s clothes to burn down the place. But why?” Shep asked.
Wilder spotted Cosette lurking. She’d cleaned up. He needed to.
“Starting a new business would stir him up,” she said. “Burning the stable is his way of denying me any kind of life outside of him. I don’t belong here. I belong to him. With him.” Weariness and defeat colored her eyes.
“I’m going to find him. I can do it legally or I can change tactics and find him my way.” Wilder waited for her permission to finally go at it like he wanted. Swiftly. Wheezer could hack finances. See where he’d been spending money. Trace him.
“As much as I
want him found and this to be over, I can’t afford to go outside the legal bounds,” she replied. “Not if I want to see him put in prison.”
No one was going to get out of this unscathed. If Levitts thought Wilder was going to take a shovel to the head and not do anything about it, he was sorely mistaken. “Okay. We’ll stay within legal bounds.” But he ground his teeth and balled his fist.
They had to wait on prints from Kariss’s car. If she hadn’t been driving, whoever was might have left some. They were waiting on prints from Cosette’s apartment, as well. Waiting on Levitts’s next move. Waiting was killing Wilder.
Checking his watch, he found it was almost 6:00 a.m. “I’m gonna shower. Painting crew will be here in thirty minutes. If Frank shows up, I want you to descend on him like buzzards. If not, I’m not stopping until I find him. Today.”
Cosette caught him at the door to his apartment. “I’m sorry. For calling you stupid in your office.” A sheepish smile crept across her face. “For being...mouthy.”
The word drew his attention to her full lips and he ached for another round of kissing. He couldn’t stay mad. Lightly, he clipped her chin instead of opting for intruding on her mouth. “And I should have said thank you.”
She grinned. “Yes, you should have.”
He chuckled. “Truce?”
“Truce.”
“Wanna seal it with a kiss?” he teased.
Cosette gave him a wooden look. “I’m off my emotional high.”
He wasn’t. “I’m a private person, Cosette. I can’t help it. And I’m sorry things got out of hand—with the kiss. I know kissing means commitment.”
“It does. And the only person I’m committed to is myself. Even if I could get past the other things, Wilder, I’d need you to be less private. Could you be?”
He wanted to be. “No.”
She touched his forearm. “I understand.” Translation: then that’s that.
She left him at the door. Time to shower the dirt, grime and frustration away. Thirty minutes later, the painting crew pulled up, with Frank in the passenger side of the truck.
Time to put his feet to the fire.
Wilder bounded off the porch toward where they parked. “Frank, let’s have us a chat.” He gripped the man’s shoulder and directed him into the house to his office, where Beckett, Shepherd and Cosette waited.
Dangerous Obsession Page 12
