by LENA DIAZ,
She very deliberately leaned down and kissed a shiny, puckered scar on his right biceps.
His breath caught.
She placed both her hands on his upper arms, then feathered her fingers across his skin.
He slowly straightened, leaving his shirt on the floor. She straightened with him, keeping her hands on his arms, smoothing her fingers up and down, across the peaks and valleys of the angry marks that were the result of so much damage, had caused so much pain.
Then she slid her hands across his shoulders, down his chest, following the dark line she remembered in her mind, even though it was no longer there to guide her hand. She continued down, down to where his jeans sagged below his naval, hanging low on his lean hips.
His eyes blazed at her, his nostrils flaring as if he was struggling to breathe. She wasn’t in much better shape. Her heart pounded in her chest. Every nerve in her body sizzled, and all she’d done was slide her hands over his chest and abs. There was more to explore. So much more.
She reached for the button on his jeans.
He grabbed her hands. “Don’t.”
She frowned. “Why? I love you. I want—”
He shuddered. “So do I. Believe me, I want. But if you go any further, I won’t be able to stop. I want you too much.”
“Then don’t stop. I don’t want you to.” She tugged her hands free from his and reversed direction, sliding them up his body and linking her fingers together behind his neck. “If you doubt me, feel my heart. It’s racing. For you, Colin. That’s what you do to me. Still. After all this time. After everything that’s happened. My body still yearns for yours. I yearn for you.”
She slid her hands down and splayed them once again across the pads of his chest. “These scars are your battle scars. They’re medals of honor. What you did, going into that burning building not once, but twice to save two people you didn’t even know...” She shook her head. “That’s incredible. And I assure you, seeing the proof of your character isn’t a turnoff in any way. It’s a turn on. Because of what it means. Touch me, Colin. Feel the truth of what I’m telling you.”
She didn’t wait for him to make a move. Instead, she lifted his right hand and molded it against her breast. He groaned low in his throat, his fingers flexing against her, caressing, stroking. Her entire body flushed with heat.
“You feel my heart racing?” she whispered. “It’s never raced like that for anyone but you.”
He shuddered again and raised his hands to cup her cheeks, gently stroke his thumb across her lower lip. “We can’t do this.”
She blinked, the fog of passion thinning. “What? Why not?”
“Because I can’t protect you. When I said few people can see my scars without being repulsed, I meant it. I don’t have any protection.”
She frowned, not understanding. He stared at her, waiting. Then she got it, her eyes flying open wide. She almost whimpered with frustration. “You don’t have any condoms? Please tell me you’re joking.”
He shook his head. “I wish I were. I don’t have any...” He straightened. “Hold that thought.” He headed into the bedroom.
She followed, pausing in the doorway to see him open the nightstand by his bed. He rummaged inside, then slammed it shut.
“Where the hell did I—” He ran into the closet.
Peyton wrapped her arms around her waist, beginning to feel depressed and a bit silly for initiating something both of them wanted so very much, but might not be able to finish.
He stepped back into the bedroom, holding a small box in his hand.
She blinked. “I thought you didn’t have any? Now I’m wondering why you do.” She put her hands on her hips, jealousy riding her hard and fast. She’d never thought of him with anyone else before. It had never occurred to her, which was dumb considering how wonderful he was. Any woman should be thrilled to be with him. Still, knowing that he’d been with someone else sent a jolt of pain straight to her heart.
He stopped in front of her and tossed the box onto the nightstand. “Stop looking at me like that, Peyton. I didn’t buy those. Duncan did. For you.”
“Duncan? For me? I thought he was engaged to someone else.”
He frowned. “That’s not what I meant. He bought them for me and you, not him and you.”
She grinned and slid her hands down his chest toward the top of his jeans. “I’m teasing. Be sure to thank him the next time you see him. For me.” She winked and unbuttoned his jeans. “But we don’t need them quite yet.” She slowly, ever so slowly, unzipped his pants, her gaze locked on his. “I’ve missed you, Colin.” She pushed his pants down his thighs.
“Peyton,” he rasped, his body jerking against her hands.
“And I’ve really...” She closed her fingers around him and stroked.
He swore and jerked again.
She kissed the base of his throat, using both of her hands to caress and treasure the very essence of him. “I’ve really missed this.” She grinned and slid down his body onto her knees.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Beeeep, beeeep, beeeep!
Peyton jerked awake beside Colin, both of them bolting upright in bed.
“What is that?” She covered her ears against the high-pitched shriek.
“Smoke alarm!” He threw the covers off and jumped from the bed, dragging on his jeans as he answered. Before Peyton could even blink the sleep from her eyes, he was shrugging into his shirt and racing out the door.
Her heart seemed to stutter in her chest. She jumped out of bed and yanked another of Colin’s shirts from a hanger in his closet to cover her nakedness. Then she ran through the family room to the kitchen where the awful electronic shrieking was coming from. She stumbled to a halt by the island, realization dawning as Colin grabbed a smoking pan out of the oven and dumped it into the sink.
“Oh, no! My apple pie!”
She ran to the sink and turned the faucet on, running water over the stinking mess while he opened the back door. He swung it back and forth to draw fresh air into the room and try to clear the smoke out.
Peyton grabbed the dish towel off its hook and ran to the far corner of the room just below the shrieking smoke detector. She batted the towel at it, furiously trying to force the remaining smoke away.
“Give it to me, shorty.” He winked to soften the insult as he yanked the dish towel from her and waved it back and forth beneath the alarm.
“I’ll hold the door open.” She ran to the door and mimicked Colin’s earlier strategy, pulling the door back and forth to force air in and smoke out. The ceilings were high, compounding the problem of getting enough fresh air in to make the alarm stop even though most of the smoke had already cleared.
Finally, blessed silence reigned inside the house once again.
She looked back at him, wincing when his gaze met hers. “I completely forgot about the pie.”
“That’s okay.” He grinned. “I thoroughly enjoyed making you forget.”
Her face heated and he laughed.
He stepped to the sink, his nose wrinkling. “Give me a second. I’ll toss this outside to get the smell out. I can bag it up in the morning if the wildlife doesn’t take care of it by then.” Using a couple of pot holders, he picked up the ruined pie pan and carried it to the door.
She moved backward, pushing the door open for him and stepping out to let him pass.
“Nice shirt. Definitely looks better on you than me.” He winked, then froze, his gaze transfixed by something behind her. “My phone’s on the nightstand by the bed. Call 911.” He tossed the pie to the ground and grabbed his boots off the deck.
“What’s wrong?” She whirled around, then covered her mouth in horror. The sky was glowing an eerie orange farther down the mountain. “The woods! They’re on fire!”
He already had one boot on and yanked on the second. “Not
the woods.” His gaze met hers. “Your house. Go. Call 911.”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t. It could be a trap.”
“It probably is. But Landry has an officer stationed at your place to keep an eye on things. If Brian or your mom are there, the officer could be in serious trouble.”
Her stomach lurched at the thought of the three escapees tied to a tree, burned alive. “Don’t go. Please. It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to. Every second counts in a fire.” He shrugged off her hand. “I’ll use the ATV from my workshop. I can take a shortcut through the woods and get there faster than in my truck.”
“What about your vest, your gun?”
“After what happened last time, I put backups of both in the workshop building. Go!” He leaped off the deck and took off.
Peyton ran inside the house, vaulted over the coffee table and practically flew toward the master bedroom.
This can’t be happening. Not again. Dear Lord, please keep Colin safe! And please protect the officer at my house.
She was running so fast by the time she reached the bedroom that she couldn’t stop. She fell against the bed then jerked upright and grabbed the phone, putting it on speaker mode so she could talk to the 911 operator as she yanked on her jeans and blouse. She rattled off the address while stuffing her feet into her sneakers.
Beeeep, beeeep, beeeep!
Peyton winced at the sound of the smoke alarm going off again. Had she forgotten to turn off the oven when she took out the ruined pie?
“Ma’am?” the 911 operator called out. “Are you still there? What’s going on?”
Peyton blinked, her eyes burning. She couldn’t see any smoke, but she could smell it. “I’m not sure. The smoke alarm is going off inside the house again.”
“Again? Are there two houses on fire?”
That thought sent a cold chill down her spine. “I don’t know. Just tell the firemen to hurry, please, to the Sterling house,” she said. “That’s where Deputy US Marshal Colin McKenzie went. Send the police too. Brian Sterling, an escaped convict, may be in the area. He may...he may have set the fire. His mother, Molly Sterling, could be with him.” She coughed and looked around. Was the air getting thicker or was it her imagination? “Both are arsonists and extremely dangerous.”
Beeeep, beeeep, beeeep!
The alarm seemed much louder now. No, all of the alarms in the house were shrieking now, not just the one in the kitchen. What was going on?
“I’ve got police and fire rescue on the way, ma’am. Please stay on the line until they arrive. Check those alarms, Miss Sterling. You might have to evacuate the house. If you do, stay outside and wait for the police to give you further instructions.”
Peyton let out a disgusted sound. “That’s not happening.” She tossed the phone onto the bed and wiped her tearing eyes. She located his pistol and two magazines in the nightstand. She shoved a magazine into the gun, snapped the holster onto her hip and pocketed the extra magazine.
She looked through the bedroom doorway. The house was definitely getting smoky. But it didn’t seem thick enough for the house to be on fire. And she didn’t see any flames. Could it be that smoke from the house fire down the mountain was blowing this way and seeping inside, setting off the alarms? Maybe that had been the plan all along. Brian, or her mom, had set the Sterling house on fire to draw Colin outside.
If so, their plan was working.
She was about to run out of the bedroom when Colin’s parting words echoed in her mind. He’d said he had an extra Kevlar vest in the workshop. Which meant the one he normally used should be in his closet. She ran inside and saw it hanging on hooks on the back wall, next to a rifle. She was wicked good with a rifle. Much better than with a pistol. And it would give her the ability to shoot from farther away. She didn’t want to get in close and interfere with whatever strategy Colin might use. But if she could do something to protect him from afar, she absolutely would.
Thankfully Colin didn’t take the same precautions of locking up his gun and ammo in his bedroom as he’d done in the pantry, probably because he wouldn’t expect any guests to rummage through his bedroom closet. There was a box of ammunition on the top shelf, out in the open.
Rifle in hand, she ran out of the bedroom, coughing against the smoke. Then she swore and ran back in for Colin’s truck keys. She grabbed them and took off toward the garage.
The smoke was worse in the garage, probably because it wasn’t as airtight as the main house. She pressed the button on the wall to start the door rolling up and ran to the truck. As soon as she threw open the driver’s side door, she swore a blue streak. How was she going to climb up into the stupid thing? There was a sports car on the other side of the garage. But she’d looked in the window before and saw that it was a stick. She’d never learned to drive a manual transmission.
Colin needs you.
She gritted her teeth, grabbed the steering wheel and tried to lift her leg inside. The stupid vest was so big and stiff it pushed against her thigh, making it impossible. She coughed again, then tossed her rifle into the truck and tore off the vest. After pitching it inside, she grabbed the steering wheel again and slung her right leg up. There! She had her foot on the door threshold. Now all she had to do was—
The passenger door flew open and her brother stood in the opening, aiming a pistol at her. “Don’t even think about going for your gun.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Colin ducked down beneath the thick curtain of smoke in the living room of the Sterling house, holding a wet dish towel over his mouth to help him breathe.
“Officer? It’s Marshal McKenzie. Can you hear me? Where are you?”
The only sound he heard was the roar of the flames licking across the walls. The only thing not burning was the floor, and that wouldn’t hold true much longer.
No one had been outside when he got there. He’d run to the front of the house, confirming there was a patrol car in the driveway. But he hadn’t found the officer to go with it. Knowing Brian and Molly, if they’d set the fire as a trap for him, the officer was probably inside. But even knowing that might be their plan, to roast him alive, he had to go in and try to find the missing officer.
“Hello? Is anyone in here?”
Nothing. He took a few more steps into the inferno, dread coiling in his stomach when he saw the hallway that led to the bedrooms. It was completely engulfed. If the police officer was back there, Colin was already too late.
He took another step, then another, squinting against the dark smoke. Even crouching down with his nose and mouth covered, he could barely breathe. The heat and smoke were too intense. He had to get out of there. A blazing recliner forced him to move farther into the room and give it a wide berth so he could head back through the kitchen where he’d come in. He almost fell over the body that came into view. A uniformed officer was lying facedown.
He scooped the body up in his arms, the slight weight telling him it was likely a woman. But the smoke was so thick there was little else he could see. Eyes streaming tears, he threw her over his shoulder and sprinted toward the kitchen.
A loud crash sounded behind him as part of a wall caved in. He jumped to the side but a piece of wood slammed his shoulder, almost knocking him to the floor. He stumbled, using both hands now to clutch the officer while he held his breath. Whirling away from the burning cabinets in the kitchen, he ran out the door into the backyard.
He didn’t stop running until he was far enough from the house not to feel the heat of the flames. Then he dropped to his knees and lowered his burden to the ground. Coughing and blinking against the sting of smoke, he used his shirtsleeves to wipe at his streaming eyes. When he could see clearly again, he bent over the officer to check on her. That’s when he realized his mad dash into the house had been in vain. There was nothing he could do to help Officer Simmons. A bullet had blow
n away the back of her head.
He fisted his hands beside him and swore viciously. What a senseless loss of life. He lifted his head and scanned the woods behind the house. Where were the cowards who’d set this trap for him? Why weren’t they laughing right now from the woods as Brian had done that night he’d cornered Colin by the workshop? Why weren’t they shooting at him when they had him right where they wanted him?
Maybe they were behind him, waiting for him to turn around. He carefully drew his pistol, then jumped to his feet and whirled. Nothing. There was no one there. He turned in a slow circle. Then stopped. Orange flames danced against the distant night sky, right about where his house would be.
Right where he’d left Peyton while he raced down here to try to save someone else.
His heart lurched in his chest. He shoved his pistol into his holster and ran toward his ATV, parked twenty yards away.
Let her be okay. Please, God. Help me make it in time to save her.
He started the ATV, then took off up the mountain.
* * *
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND. Why are you doing this, Brian?”
Peyton stood outside of the workshop building watching Colin’s dream house, their dream house, burn to the ground. Beside her, Brian stood watching the same thing. But where she was devastated, he was smiling, the flames from the house reflecting in his eyes, making him look every bit the devil that she now knew him to be.
“Brian? Where’s Colin?”
He sighed and turned toward her, the pistol still in his hand, but pointing at the ground instead of her. She didn’t kid herself into thinking it was because he didn’t want to risk shooting her. He probably just didn’t want to keep holding the heavy gun up in the air.
