by Cassie Miles
“They didn’t bother to break out the major fire power.” He plumped the pillows against the headboard behind her. “Didn’t expect us to be much of a threat.”
“Big mistake.” She scooted back against the pillows and pulled the soft pink comforter over her legs, which had been stitched and swabbed with an orange antiseptic. More scars but she wouldn’t think about that now. “Murano is our bad guy. He didn’t actually commit the murder, but he arranged for it to happen, probably because he was being blackmailed.”
“That’s motive, but we still don’t know exactly what Slocum had on him. The claim on the Institute’s property seems likely, but there’s got to be more to the story. Why would Murano resort to murder over a deed? He can afford elite lawyers. Or he could pay Slocum off.”
In the back of her mind, she kept thinking of those birth certificates with no name listed for the father. If Murano once had a secret affair that resulted in a baby, his reputation would be damaged. Those twenty-eight-year-old connections might be hard to prove, but if they found the son, DNA could be compared. “Investigating the motive should be a job for the FBI.”
“Already happening,” he said. “Doc is driving into town to meet with Anna Rose, which is an assignment he volunteered for. I think he’s got a little crush on her. And Anna Rose will report to the feds.”
“Why not use the phone?”
“Maybe I’m paranoid but—as Anna Rose likes to remind me—everything can be traced. I don’t want anybody finding us before we’re ready to be found.”
“So there’s nothing we can do but wait.”
“Not a bad thing. Doc said you were okay but he wanted you to rest, drink more water and eat. Sandwich?”
“And soup,” she said as she leaned against the pillows.
When he leaned down to kiss her forehead, she slung an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. His lips joined with hers, and the warmth that had soothed her became a fiery heat, searing her nerve endings and making her feel alive. Her muscles quivered. The injury near her shoulder—something she’d almost forgotten—ached painfully. She gave a little cry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s the place I got shot.”
He unbuttoned her nightgown and pulled it aside to reveal a giant bruise above the top of her breast. The butterfly in her tattoo looked like it was flying toward it. “Nice tat.”
“It covers a scar.”
“I still like it,” he said. “Do you need a painkiller?”
For a moment, she considered. She was supposed to be invincible, to feel nothing. Yet, here she was with a bruise that was throbbing so hard it felt like it had a pulse. She could take meds to diminish the hurt. But she didn’t want the side effects. If there were new developments, she wanted to be awake. They were still in danger. “I’m okay.”
After he left the room and went downstairs to the kitchen, she got out of bed to explore. A fancy white-and-gold clock on the dresser showed the time as twenty minutes past three. From the second floor window, she saw a goat pen and a chicken coop. Though the rain had slowed to a drizzle, none of the hens were out. Only two goats roamed around their large enclosure.
On the landing outside her bedroom, she found two other bedrooms and a bathroom. Her muscles were stiff. Walking helped relax the stress, but she didn’t plan to take a long hike. Twice around the landing and back to bed was plenty.
Noah returned with her soup and sandwich on a tray with legs that he placed across her lap. “Chicken noodle and ham with cheese.”
“Comfort food, that’s perfect.”
“And a flower,” he said.
He’d added a small vase with fragrant sprigs of purple lilacs. His thoughtfulness made her smile. She liked having him take care of her. “Lilacs are one of my favorites.”
“I suppose they have a meaning.”
“Because they’re a springtime flower, lilacs are symbolic of new love.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was going for.”
After she ate, he sat quietly beside her, not touching. It didn’t take long for her to drift back to sleep. Resting was important. She needed to be ready if they were attacked again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hours passed while she slept and recharged her batteries. This time, when she wakened in the fluffy, pink bedroom, her eyes opened with a snap. She was 100 percent alert and wary. As a rule, Gennie didn’t pay much attention to premonitions or omens, but she trusted her gut. Something was putting her on edge. They weren’t safe.
The rain had ceased, and the night was quiet. Too quiet? She pushed off the comforter and sat up on the bed. Through the partially open window, a fresh breeze ruffled the curtains and stirred the air. She smelled lilacs.
“Noah?” Had something happened to him? This stab of fear was irrational. “Where are you?”
She heard footsteps coming up the staircase. Please let it be him. Noah opened the door to her bedroom, peeked in and asked, “Are you awake?”
Relief gushed through her. Other than her overactive imagination, there was nothing to fear. She bounded from the bed into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
He held her, tentatively patting her back. He must think she was crazy, and maybe she was. Her usual self-control had lapsed, allowing her emotions to spin out of control. He squeezed her more tightly. “What’s going on with you, Gennie? Two minutes ago, you were totally unconscious.”
“I wake up fast.” She snuggled against his chest. The soft flannel of his shirt caressed her cheek. “In a combat zone, you learn how to sleep with one eye open.”
“How are you feeling?”
She hadn’t bothered to take a physical inventory when she opened her eyes, but she’d managed to get out of bed without any noticeable discomfort. At the moment, her only symptom was an accelerated pulse, which was probably due to her wild emotions. “I’m okay.”
“Your legs don’t hurt?”
“I’m a little stiff. You probably feel the same.” Stepping away from him, she turned on the bedside lamp so she could see him better. “I’ve been asleep for hours. Tell me what I missed.”
“Doc isn’t back yet. The plan is for him to stay in town tonight at Anna Rose’s house. He’s been calling here on the landline using some kind of encrypted phone that’s untraceable. Sometimes, Anna Rose goes way over the top when it comes to crypto-security.”
“Better to use too much caution than not enough.” She sat on the bed beside him, thigh to thigh. The prickling along the surface of her skin had very little to do with her gut feeling about danger. She was anticipating another kind of excitement. Finally, she was in bed with Noah—a man she’d been lusting after in her fantasies. “What has Doc told you?”
“Loretta came through her surgery like a champ. She’s going to be okay.”
“I’m glad.” And not surprised. Loretta Slocum was a tough little woman. “Did she regain consciousness? Did she tell the police who attacked her?”
“You’re asking if I’m off the hook,” he said. “The answer is no. Loretta was shot twice in the back. She never saw the person who pulled the trigger.”
“Do we know anything more about the witness?”
“Anna Rose couldn’t get her FBI contact to share that information.”
“What about the lockbox at Baer’s Den?” They’d risked their lives to find that safe, and she hoped their efforts had produced a significant result. “Did the FBI get that information before Murano’s men could destroy it?”
“The short answer is yes.”
When the dirty details of Slocum’s blackmail plots were revealed, the list of real suspects would be apparent. There was no need for further investigating on their part. The ultimate solution would be up to the people who analyzed documents for the FBI. “I guess that means the case is solved.”
“You’d think so,” he said. “But the FBI hasn’t offered to throw us a victory parade. It’s going to take a while to sort out the details. Anna Rose suggested that we stay out of sight as long as possible.”
Gennie could think of worse ways to spend her time. Being tucked away with Noah in a secluded mountain home on an April night after the rain sounded like heaven. She looked him up and down, from head to toe, and she fluttered her eyelashes. “What should we do to pass the time?”
“I have a few ideas.”
She hopped off the bed. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
In the bathroom, she took a quick peek in the mirror and groaned. In the top drawer of the vanity, she found a brush, which she used in an attempt to tame her wildly curling blond hair. While washing her face, she discovered a light bruise on her chin. There were scratches on her hands, but her legs were the worst. Her encounter with the rapids had resulted in a new crop of scars. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she rinsed her legs, trying to remove the ugly streaks of yellow antiseptic. The stitches had been admirably done. Noah’s doctor friend knew his business.
When she returned to the bedroom, he was stretched out on top of the comforter, waiting for her. He’d taken off his flannel shirt and wore a black T-shirt and jeans. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing socks and shoes. His feet were long and narrow and somehow sexy. Or was that a general reflection of her mood? She hadn’t been so aroused in years.
Sitting on the bed beside him, she brushed her hand over his short bristly hair. This was happening. A thrill went through her.
“I should warn you,” she said, “you’re the first man I’ve been with since Warrick.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Almost three years. I haven’t been avoiding sex, but I’ve been busy with operations, physical therapy and recovery.”
“Forget about the past.”
“I wish I could erase everything that happened before I met you,” she said. “I’d go back in time and maybe become a virgin again.”
“Do you really want that?”
She cast back to memories of her teen years when she’d been untouched and innocent. That was before life had taken a toll on her. Would she trade her experiences and her pain to be virginal again? “Probably not.”
While carefully protecting the injury near her butterfly tattoo, he pulled her down beside him. When he tightened his embrace, her breasts crushed against his chest. Though he was much taller, their bodies matched nicely. His long legs entwined with hers.
At first, his kisses were light and playful. His tongue flicked into her mouth, and then he went deeper. The pressure of his lips against hers became more demanding.
She pulled back. “Not too fast.”
“No problem. I like to take my time.” He rearranged their positions. She was lying flat on the bed, and he hovered beside her. “You fascinate me, Gennie.”
“Why?”
A wide smile spread across his face. “For one thing, you don’t try to manipulate me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She grinned back. “I’m blunt. You’ve pointed that out, maybe a thousand times.”
His strong hands framed her body, outlining her waist and hips. “Do you mind if I touch your legs?”
The fresh scars weren’t attractive, but she had promised herself never to be self-conscious about her injuries. And she trusted Noah. He wouldn’t be disgusted by her less-than-perfect body. “Suit yourself.”
He unbuttoned the flannel nightgown from the hem and eased the soft fabric up to her hips. “That’s a lot of stitches.”
“I got banged up pretty badly in the creek.”
He stroked from her ankle to her knee. “Can you feel that?”
“This is hard to explain. I know you’re touching me, but I can’t tell where or how hard.”
He reached around to the back of her leg and squeezed her calf. “How about that?”
“I feel it.” And she liked the pressure of his hands on her legs. When his fingers glided past her knees to her thighs, she inhaled a sharp gasp. “Oh, yeah, I feel that.”
When he adjusted his grasp and massaged the quads at the front of her thighs, her sensitivity was less. The nerves affecting those muscles had been seriously damaged.
Noah reached higher. His hands caressed her inner thighs. She opened her legs to him, inviting him to touch her more intimately. When he did, a tremor shook her body, and then the tremor became an earthquake. Her pent-up sensuality exploded.
Though she wasn’t sure how they had both gotten undressed, it only took a moment for them to be naked together on the bed. She kissed his ear lobes, his neck and his mouth. He was a feast for her starving senses. So handsome. Gasping, she gazed from his dark eyes to his sensual lips and stubborn chin. So perfectly masculine. His body, oh, my, his body was amazing. “You have a few scars of your own,” she said while she caught her breath.
“But no tats.”
She guessed, “Was that another promise to your mother?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re kind of a mama’s boy.” She traced a line down the center of his chest to his belly button. “I like that you’re loyal to your family.”
“I’m no saint,” he said. “I couldn’t make my marriage work.”
“You have my permission to erase your past, too. Pretend that we’re meeting for the first time, like a couple of virgins.”
A strange fantasy because there was nothing naive or innocent about him. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted this night to be any other way. Noah had skills that drove her to abandon her sensible inhibitions and take a chance. She might be hurt or betrayed, but she didn’t believe that he’d take advantage of her trust.
Not a bad boy like Warrick, Noah was a good man.
Once they got going, she discovered talents of her own. He inspired her, aroused her and fulfilled her. When they finished with an incredible climax, she couldn’t wait to do it again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The L word dangled from the tip of his tongue. When Noah gazed down into her sweet, sexy blue eyes, he was dangerously close to saying it out loud, telling her that he loved her. Maybe a giant mistake. Though she considered trust to be more important in a relationship than love, he wasn’t so sure. Trust was important, but love conquered all. Was there really a difference between the two? You couldn’t have love without trust or vice versa. Too much thinking, he had to get out of his head.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m going downstairs to the kitchen. Can I bring you anything?”
“I’ll join you.” She held the comforter over her breasts, depriving him of the charming view. “I hope I can find something to wear in here.”
“Pink and frilly like a princess?”
“Doc’s daughter has got to have other clothes.”
“It’s okay for you to stay in bed,” he said. “We won’t leave the house until tomorrow.”
“I want to be prepared if something comes up. I should clean my weapons, dry out my hiking boots and check my supplies.” She frowned. “I don’t sound very romantic, do I?”
“I’m not complaining.” With a body like hers, she didn’t need to put on a show. She was beautiful in whatever she was wearing.
He threw on his clothes and his boots before he went downstairs. The digital clock on the stove said it was 9:27 p.m., but it felt like midnight. He looked forward to bedtime, nestled beside Gennie, feeling her smooth naked body against his. They didn’t even need to have sex again, but he figured they would and he looked forward to that, too.
After rummaging in the fridge, he found bacon, eggs and bread for toast. Breakfast for dinner was one of his favorite meals. By the time he got the skillet heated, she’d joined him, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that was—in spite of her disdain for the color—pastel pink. She sat a
t the table and started dissembling her weapons.
When the landline rang, he waited to hear Doc’s voice on the answering machine. He owed Doc Lester a huge debt of gratitude for the rescue, patching up Gennie and giving them shelter.
“Hey, kiddo,” Doc said gruffly. “Answer the phone. Where the blazes are you?”
Noah hit the button for the speakerphone. “I’m right here. How’s Anna Rose?”
“She’s my kind of grandma,” Doc said. “And she’s got another message for you. She said to tell you that the mother on the older birth certificate was almost certainly murdered.”
Noah looked across the kitchen in time to catch Gennie’s worried expression. Those birth certificates had been bothering her. “What brought Anna Rose to that conclusion?”
“The FBI tracked her through two identity changes to a woman who was murdered in Utah, strangled by a killer who wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed the life out of her. He was never apprehended.” Doc cleared his throat. “The typical forensic assumption is that a face-to-face strangulation involves people who know each other. It’s an intimate crime because the killer can see the life draining from the victim.”
Noah’s gaze met Gennie’s, and he saw the sadness in her eyes. She spoke up, “Hi, Doc. This is Gennie.”
“Sorry about the graphic description,” he said.
“I appreciate your expertise as a medical person,” she said. “Did Anna Rose find out anything about the child in the birth certificate?”
“Not yet.”
“Was there any new information on the more recent birth certificate?”
“Nope,” he said. “And how are you feeling, young lady?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “My compliments on your stitching skills.”
“Don’t you go running around all over the place. You lost a lot of blood and ought to take it easy. At least for a day or so.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Same goes for you, Noah. Just relax.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.” The old man had known him years ago when he was a dopey teenager, tagging along behind Josh and getting into trouble. Doc had been something of a surrogate father. He taught Noah how to throw a baseball, how to fish and to shoot a rifle. “Thanks for everything.”