Her eyes lit up. “That hat. I loved that hat. I haven’t seen you wear it since that night.”
If he’d known she’d be looking for it, he would have done something about it. “I lost it at the Moose Is Loose. They’re hanging onto it for me, but I haven’t been up there since that night. Didn’t know it meant anything to you. I’ve had it since I was a teenager riding herd.”
“I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination,” she murmured wickedly.
“I’ve been using mine overtime, so join the club.”
The tip of her tongue slid between her lips. She’d put something in her hair to make it look wild and tousled, and it didn’t take much imagination to picture it spread across his pillow.
“I’m trying to ask you serious questions and you keep distracting me.” With a stern frown, she tapped on the table between them. “When did you switch from cowboy to fireman?”
“Halfway through college. I was a biology major. Thought I might go on to med school but decided to change to fire sciences. I couldn’t stomach any more school. Turns out a good half of our calls are medical anyway. So I get to use those muscles too.”
Under her curious gaze, he found himself wanting to keep talking, which was unusual for him.
“When did you become a fire chief?”
“When I moved to Lost Harbor. That’s generally how it happens, you have to switch locations to get promoted. I’ve had a lot of experience with volunteer fire departments because that’s how I started, as a volunteer for the county where our ranch was located in Texas.”
“Texas to Alaska. That’s a long way.”
“Yeah.” He saw no need to elaborate on that, but she kept waiting so he felt rude not answering. “I had reasons for wanting a change of scene.”
“Like what?”
Oh lordy, she really did want to get into it. “Divorce,” he said simply.
Her expression shifted from interested to cautious. Not that he could blame her.
“I needed a new start, and it wasn’t ever going to happen within a hundred miles of my ex.”
“Lost Harbor is a lot more than a hundred miles away from Texas.”
“And about six state lines away. Part of its charm.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Listen. I don’t bad-mouth my ex. Either of them. Those relationships were what they were, and I learned my lessons.”
“Which were?”
“Why make things complicated when you can just fuck and have fun?” He said it lightly, but he heard the hollowness of his own words. It had taken a lot of hurt for him to get to the point where he believed that.
He still wasn’t completely sure that he did.
“Sounds like you had a rough time.” Her sympathetic gaze drew more confessions from him.
He shrugged. “I’m not complaining. I married the first girl I really loved. Gillian. We got married at the end of high school. Then I got busy with college and she got bored. Met someone else and took off. I didn’t blame her, but it was a kick in the guts. I was still a naive kid, basically. It blew me away that she could even think about another man. I was so in love, or at least I thought I was.”
He could hear the hurt seeping into his voice, and cleared his throat. “Like I said, it was a good lesson.”
She touched his hand, making him realize he’d been clenching it. “I’m sorry. That must have been a real heartbreak.”
“Oh, yeah. I thought we’d cracked the whole love-and-marriage thing. I was going to get my degree, become a doctor, start a family. Turns out we never made it past my freshman year. Poor dumb kid.” He shook his head at his own past self. “I proposed to her on horseback during a roundup. Man, when I look back, I can’t believe what a dolt I was.”
A funny smile flitted across her lips. “It’s very sweet, honestly. From the outside, I never would have pegged you as a sap.”
“And you’d be right about that. My sappy days are dead and gone. After Gillian left, my brothers kept telling me to ‘buck up, be a man.’ I shut the fuck up after that. Got into firefighting and moved on.”
What he left unsaid was that if his marriage to Gillian hadn’t killed off his romantic side, his nightmare with Amelie would have done it.
“Here’s the thing. I was a naive, clueless, horny kid. I thought women were…angels. I idolized Gillian. When she left me, it was like a bomb hitting. I had to rethink everything. I went through a really dark time. Honestly, I went a little over the edge.”
“Over the edge? How do you mean?”
He stopped himself before he went any further. “I don’t know you well enough yet. Sorry.”
Her eyes went wide with indignation. “Now that’s a tease and a half. Unfair.”
“How is that unfair when I don’t know the first thing about your life? Except the two-year dry spell. Can’t forget about that. Ever been close to getting married?”
“Nope. Before I came to Lost Harbor, I was one hundred percent focused on my career. Except when I was focused on having fun.” She sparkled a smile at him. “I’ve always kept my relationships…undemanding.”
“What were you afraid of?”
His question seemed to startle her. “Afraid? What makes you think I was afraid?”
“Just an impression.”
She tilted her head, mulling that over. A basket of breadsticks appeared, dropped off by the hostess, and she cracked one in half and dipped it in olive oil. “Maybe I was afraid. I didn’t want to get sidetracked. I didn’t want to get sucked back into the muck. I always figured I was one bad decision away from becoming Naughty Kate all over again. So yeah…I guess I was afraid.”
“Hm.”
She made a face at him. “Hm? What does that mean? Hm.”
“I think you’re brave. You grabbed your life and decided for yourself what you wanted. And hey, you came to Alaska. Farming in Alaska is no cakewalk.”
“That’s true. The other day I literally fell through the snow crust while I was carrying a bag of fertilizer to a shed. I fell on my ass and got showered with chicken manure. I even had some in my eyelashes. I think I still might have a few bits of it here and there. Oh, hello!”
The waitress had arrived and, judging by her look of revulsion, had caught that last part. “Sorry, I’m a peony farmer from Alaska,” said Kate. “I have stories.”
“A peony farmer? That’s a thing?”
“It was a surprise to me too. But yes.”
The waitress, a gorgeous twenty-something, turned to Darius. “Are you a peony farmer too?”
“No. I’m a—”
“He’s my personal bodyguard,” Kate interrupted.
He raised an eyebrow at her, but she just blinked at him innocently and picked up her menu. They placed their orders—both of them going for the steak specials, with all the extras.
When the waitress was gone, he allowed a smug smile to curve across his face. “Your personal bodyguard, eh?”
She shrugged one bare shoulder. “If you’d told her you were a firefighter, she’d be flirting with you nonstop. I rescued you.”
He decided it would be fun to tease her a little. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were obviously telling her to back off. You were guarding your territory.”
“My territory? What are you, the back forty?”
He leaned closer to her. “You called me ‘your personal bodyguard.’ Not just your bodyguard. But your personal one. She got the message pretty quick too.”
“Maybe I don’t want you getting distracted when you’re supposed to be protecting me.”
“Maybe you know there’s something going on here,” he waved his hand between them, “and you don’t want anyone messing with it.”
“Oh really, that’s your interpretation? Isn’t that a little bit arrogant?” The quiver in one corner of her mouth took the sting out of her insult.
“It’s not arrogance if it’s true.” He held her gaze,
feeling that wild connection flare between them again. It was always there, like background static, and all it took was a little oxygen to make it burst to life.
The muscles of her throat moved as she swallowed. His cock twitched in response. Fuck, why was it that every move she made got a rise out of him?
Their stare down ended when she capitulated. “Okay, say that it is true. Obviously there’s something between us. But it’s probably just…a physical anomaly. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re not compatible, obviously. If we were we wouldn’t argue so much.”
Earlier in his life, that might have wounded him. But he’d grown a thick shield around his heart since his Gillian days.
“Besides,” she added, “I decided to not do anything stupid. My close call, remember?”
“I remember. Never was clear on the reasons, though.”
Well,” she began warily. “If those guys find me, I might have to go somewhere else. I don’t want to put anyone else at risk.”
“What if that ‘anyone else’ decides he’s okay with that risk? I came down here, didn’t I? If I was afraid of risk, I’d be back in Lost Harbor fighting fires and ice storms. Oh wait. That’s risky too. Looks like I’m not afraid of risk.”
She laughed unwillingly.
“The question is, are you?” He drilled his gaze into her, giving her a preview of what things would be like in bed with his strength and her fire. Good God.
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “I don’t know…lately my most intimate relationships have been with flowers. Peonies, not penises. Then you come along like some kind of testosterone bomb. I’m not sure I know how to handle you.” She blinked at him, all innocence.
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. When he was done, he planted his forearms on the table and took her hands between his. “I’m not sure of a lot, but I’m one hundred percent sure that if anyone can handle me, it’s you. Of course, there’s only one way to find out.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Oh, it is, babe. It one hundred percent is.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kate was quivering from head to toe by the time they got back to the hotel. Darius had make it perfectly clear where he stood and what he wanted. It was what she wanted too, with every fiber of her being.
But when she reached the room, she found a message on the hotel phone. Cotton and Bryant had been trying to reach her; apparently her cell phone had been off the entire time they’d been at dinner. She’d been so wrapped up in their conversation that she hadn’t even noticed the lack of texts or calls.
The phone call with the associate who’d be handling the deposition took over an hour. At some point, Darius disappeared into his room, and when she was done, she tiptoed to the door and peered in.
He lay sprawled on the bed in a twisted tangle of bed sheets and long limbs. A pillow lay across his chest, with an arm holding it in place. His other arm was flung to one side, palm up. A gentle snore floated across the room.
She found it endearing the way he was clinging to that pillow as if it was a Teddy bear. It made her think of what he’d said about his first marriage and how he’d been so crushed, but was told to “buck up.” Was that what happened to a guy who had a tender heart but happened to be born into a big rugged body?
Was anything left of that tender heart?
Even though he talked a cynical game, she had a feeling there was quite a bit left. There was a reason Lost Harbor had taken Chief Boone into their hearts. There was a reason he’d chosen the protective career of firefighter. There was a reason a hyper-wary kid like S.G. trusted him so much.
She tiptoed away from the door between their suites and headed for her own bed. With depo prep looming in the morning, she had no business fantasizing about a “challenge.”
Her prep took up all of the next day. The associate offered to come to her hotel suite for the session so she wouldn’t have to take any unnecessary risks. Since Darius wouldn’t be needed until dinnertime, he took off to check out Century City.
Kate found the prep excruciating. She wasn’t used to being on this end of the equation. She was used to asking the questions, not trying her best to answer them. After a couple of hours, a familiar pulse behind her eyes began to throb. She hadn’t had a migraine since she’d left LA; she’d nearly forgotten what they felt like.
After running through the kinds of questions they planned to ask her, the associate switched to playing opposing counsel and doing his utmost to trip her up. It was exhausting and when they finally called it a day, she could have cried with relief.
As soon as the associate was gone, she changed into her comfy clothes and guzzled a bottle of water as she looked out the sixteenth-floor window at the endless expanse of streets and buildings and freeways. She’d been one of those busy little bees buzzing around town. Fun times—stressful, but fun.
But something had shifted, and she wasn’t as excited to be back as she’d anticipated.
Pain behind her eyes sent her to the couch, where she draped a cool washcloth over her face. That was where she was when Darius returned. She lifted the cloth to peer at him and his overflowing load of shopping bags.
“I see you found the mall.”
“I went shop-ping. O.M.G.” His imitation of a tween girl made her laugh.
“Find any cowboy hats?”
“Hell no. You have to go to Texas for those. Got something for everyone on the crew, though. Couple things for my hockey team. A knife-holder for S.G..”
“You found a knife holder in the Century City mall?”
“Go figure.” He showed off the hot-pink leather holster. “She’s going to hate it. I had to do it.”
With a groan, she dropped the facecloth back into place. “You’re a weirdo.”
“How’d it go today?” He lowered himself next to her, as she braced for the effects of jostling on her head. But he was surprisingly gentle as he settled his big body beside her. “Tough day?”
“I’m trying to fend off a migraine. It’s the last thing I need right now.” She closed her eyes to bring back the darkness.
“What helps with that?”
She shrugged. “Darkness. Quiet. Sometimes the muscles in the back of my neck get so tight…”
“Say no more.” A big, warm hand settled on the back of her neck. His thumb pressed along the tendons. An instant long groan spilled from her mouth.
“That feels—”
“Shhh,” he murmured. “You need quiet, remember? I bet you’ve been talking all day.”
“Mmmm, hmmmm.” After that she followed his directions and held her tongue, losing herself in the soothing magic of his strokes. His fingers were so damn strong. The tightness in her tendons was no match for his gentle power, and slowly the tension eased.
From her experience, if she could head off a migraine before it really took hold, she might be able to sleep it away and not miss the next two days in a fog of agony. Deliberately she relaxed her jaw and her eyelids and any other muscle she had any control over. Calm, even breaths. Coolness. Darkness.
Think of peonies, not depos.
No, not even that. No thoughts. Thoughts hurt. They made her tense up and that made everything worse. Let all the thoughts evaporate like a cloud of mosquitoes. Let peace and calm spread from the back of her neck, from those commanding fingers, through her skull and along her face.
She drifted into a half-conscious state. The feeling of being swept down a river roused her sometime later. But she wasn’t on a river; she was in Darius’ arms, and he was carrying her to bed.
Second time he’s done this, she thought sluggishly. Next time I want to be conscious.
Or maybe she’d said it out loud, because a low chuckle vibrated through her from his broad chest.
“Count on it,” he murmured as he nestled her into softness. “I’ll wake you up in the morning in plenty of time.”
He stepped to the window to draw the blinds against the city lights. So
light here, all the time. In Lost Harbor, it really got dark at night. No streetlights, just moonlight and starlight. Maybe that was why she didn’t get migraines there.
Time passed, and slowly the iron band of pain around her skull eased. She snuggled into the covers and slept, and it really felt as if she could still feel Darius’ gentle hands on her head, smoothing out every bit of tension and stress. Even though he was gone, it felt as if he was with her, his heated skin against hers, his arms holding her tight against everything out there that wanted to hurt her.
“Kate?” His voice came softly through a white veil of dreams. “Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes?”
At first she wasn’t sure if she could. But she wanted to see if it was really Darius calling her “sweetheart,” or just one of the nighttime fantasies she’d been having lately. She dragged her heavy eyes open, realizing as she did so that it didn’t hurt.
“You called me sweetheart.” Her voice didn’t make her wince the way it usually did when she spoke during a migraine episode.
“I knew that would get your attention.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, he stroked a damp strand of hair away from her face. “How’s your head?”
She blinked hard—another test. A faint trace of pain remained, like a shadow of a memory of pain. “Seems okay.”
Cautiously, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She still wore the loose clothing she’d changed into last night when she’d felt the first threat of a migraine. “What time is it?”
“Still early. It’s only six-thirty. I thought you might want some time to ease into the day.”
She nodded carefully. “Good thinking. Thanks, Darius. I think I might be fine.” Gingerly, she moved her head from side to side. “You’ve got the touch. I wish I’d known you when I was cramming for the bar exam. It might not have taken me two tries.”
“You get migraines a lot?”
“It happens.” He offered her a hand, and for once she accepted without protest, though she wasn’t yet ready to try standing up. She had a feeling she’d never reject help from Darius again. He’d proven himself a gem with those expert hands of his. “I need to be at the Cotton and Bryant offices by nine.”
Naughty All Night Page 11