Until There Was You

by Unknown

Los Angeles was full of big, powerfully built men who prided themselves on their well-toned bronzed bodies. Somehow she knew Luke’s wasn’t manufactured in a gym or fitness center or the result of steroids. He didn’t have that beefy, bulging appearance that totally turned her off.

  Yet, it wasn’t just his size that unsettled her, it was also the intense way he had looked at her. She’d taken that dig at him for her own benefit. A woman could get into a lot of trouble with a man like that. And if there was one thing she prided herself on, it was staying clear of men who couldn’t be easily forgotten.

  She shrugged the thought and the nightgown off, then reached for her bra. She was leaving. She had enough on her mind without adding an angry man to the list. Driving down the narrow mountain road at night wasn’t something she was particularly looking forward to, but she had faced worse things and survived.

  LUKE WAS STEAMED. HE DIDN’T LIKE GUNS BEING pointed at him. Liked it even less that he had let a probable amateur get the drop on him again. The incident was too much of a reminder of the one that had occurred during his six-year tenure as an FBI field agent in Lincoln, Nebraska. One minute he and his partner had been interviewing a bank embezzlement suspect, the next thing he knew, the man had a gun and was shouting he wasn’t going to jail.

  Luke would never forget the look of surprise and horror on the man’s pasty face when the gun he was holding in his shaking hand went off. In those seconds afterward, shocked disbelief had held the man immobile. By the time he had recovered, he had been advised of his rights and handcuffed, all the time babbling he was sorry. With the searing pain in his left shoulder, the gunman hadn’t received any sympathy from Luke. The wound had left a three-inch scar on Luke’s forearm and a lasting impression.

  You could be just as dead by accident as you could be on purpose. Save him from amateurs. But at least Catherine had been cooler than the embezzler.

  The natural curiosity that had helped him build one of the most respected and profitable investigative agencies in the state kicked in, momentarily sidetracking his anger. How had she learned that much courage and control, and why did she need it?

  Luke gazed at the closed bedroom door, then picked up the phone and hit redial.

  It took four rings before Daniel answered. “Feeding time. Bye.”

  Luke’s grip on the phone tightened. He happened to know Daniel’s wife, Madelyn, was breast-feeding. What the hell use was Daniel?

  Luke lifted his hand to hit the redial button again, then hung up instead. All the questions he wanted to ask about Catherine, at least the most important ones, were already answered.

  To Luke’s knowledge, Daniel had never let anyone except family members use the cabin. The call she placed had gone to Daniel’s private line at his home in Houston, Texas. So whomever the gun-toting Catherine was, Daniel trusted and liked her. And his cousin wasn’t a man easily fooled, if at all, no matter how shapely or how appealingly the package was wrapped.

  Besides, Daniel was ga-ga over his wife, and, since Daniel Jr.’s arrival, acted as if he had been gifted with the world, and was a walking, talking encyclopedia on infant care and child development. Only close family members caught a glimpse of Daniel Jr. at his first outing, his Aunt Dominique’s wedding; fewer still were able to hold him because Daniel had been concerned with “germs.” His dark gaze narrowed. Whatever Catherine was to Daniel, it wasn’t romantic. But did she have to pull a gun on him?

  Feeling his anger escalating, Luke decided to go outside before he pounded on Catherine’s door for the answers. Unless she opened it, all he would get was a sore fist beating against the solid oak door. Threatening a man with a gun was bad enough, but she had added insult to injury when she threatened his private parts.

  She’d stepped over the line, way over. Leave it to a woman to be that sadistic. And since she was Daniel’s guest, he’d have to let her get away with it. At least Luke had had the satisfaction of arresting the guy who’d shot him.

  Outside, Luke crossed the wooden porch, then went down the three steps to stand beneath the full moon and listen to the night sounds. The chirp of the crickets, the hoot of the pigmy owl, the howl of a coyote came to him.

  The end of spring was a tempestuous time in and around Santa Fe. You could easily go through high winds, heavy snow, blinding sunshine, or drenching rain in a twenty-four-hour period. Tonight the air was crisp and clean, the winds calm, the temperature hovering in the low sixties. Perfect. He drew in a deep breath, then slowly pushed it out and let nature calm him.

  The immensity of the natural surroundings never ceased to touch him. He never tired of the changing landscape, of seeing the vastness of the Southwestern desert gradually give way to the forested peaks of Jemez Mountains on the west and Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the east. If one were still, one could hear the wind whispering through piñon pines, or even stiller, hear the drums and chanting of the ancient ones. The Pueblo Indians’ legendary name for the city, “the dancing grounds of the sun,” was an apt description for the vastness of the land that soothed the soul and left one in awe of the Creator.

  He enjoyed his home and working in Santa Fe, but for the revival of his spirit he found it necessary to get away. Just himself, the Master of Breath, and God to enjoy all they had created for the earth’s inhabitants to enjoy . . . if they’d simply take the time long enough to be still, to look and listen. Most people, like his sister and brothers, didn’t.

  Of all his siblings, he was the only one who could stay at the cabin for an extended period of time and be perfectly happy. A week was the absolute limit for his three brothers. Less for his sister.

  Morgan always had a case in court or a client to see. Pierce would be worried about the stock market and his own growing list of clients. Brandon missed his business and the many women in his life. Sierra claimed it was too isolated since the nearest store was seven miles away down a winding two-lane mountain road that had a sheer drop most of the way. What if she ran out of milk or bread? Give her the convenience of a city and its shops.

  Luke almost smiled. More likely Sierra’s reasons were more due to there being only five houses in a radius of fifteen miles. And none were for sale. That certainly put a cramp in the style of the top residential realtor in Santa Fe. His little sister could sell a lean-to hanging off a cliff and would thoroughly enjoy herself while doing it.

  Opening his eyes, an unpleasant thought struck him. What if Sierra had been spending the night alone and a stranger had walked in? Knowing his feisty sister, she would have drop-kicked the guy first and asked questions later. She’d better. Surprise was sometimes the only advantage you had against your opponent.

  Luke struggled with the irrefutable knowledge. He didn’t want to forgive Catherine or at least see she was justified. The reason he was being so stiff-necked didn’t elude him. She was a woman and at the moment, he was pissed at all women.

  The cabin door opened and he whirled around. Catherine, one hand holding a large suitcase, the other on the door knob. Seeing him, she stopped. For a long time they just stared at each other, then she closed the door, and continued across the wide porch and down the steps to stand in front of him.

  “I decided I’m not the roommate type.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  LUKE’S COOLING TEMPER FLARED. WHOEVER SHE WAS, she sure knew how to insult a man. He didn’t even try to keep the sharpness out of his voice. “I don’t force myself on women.”

  Her smooth brow arched. “Calm down, Tall Man. I wasn’t questioning your honor. I just decided the rustic life isn’t for me.”

  Ignoring the irritating name she called him, Luke’s gaze ran over the red jacket, white linen blouse and black slacks, ridiculously high black heels, and designer luggage, and thought she was probably right. She smelled and looked expensive and exotic. Her don’t-touch-me attitude reminded him of the frilly, startling golden blossom of the prickly pear cactus flowers that bloomed only once a year.

  The flower was tempting to pick, but the b
ase had sharp spines that kept them from being plucked. But if one knew how, anything was possible and the rewards were all the sweeter.

  Unexpectedly he felt a tug of something totally male and primitive to her female and ruthlessly squashed it. “You expect me to take you down the mountain tonight?”

  “My rental is around back in the garage. Goodbye.” She switched the suitcase to her other hand, then went around the house.

  Luke went after her, his booted steps, unlike the sharp clatter of her heels on the paved walkway, were soundless. He needed to have one question answered. “Is this your first trip here?”

  “Yes,” she said, continuing to the garage that was a hundred feet back from the cabin. Fifteen feet away the motion light over the logged structure kicked on, illuminating them.

  “You have any experience driving mountain roads?”

  Setting her luggage aside, she pulled one of the lightweight oak finished aluminum double doors to one side. “After tonight I will.” When she turned to get her suitcase Luke stood in her way. Up went her brow again. “Yes?”

  If she wanted it spelled out for her, he’d be more than happy to accommodate her. “I can’t imagine Daniel putting up with a snob, so there must be another reason why you’d rather leave than apologize.”

  “Me?” Her eyes rounded as she stared up at him. “Why should I apologize for defending myself?”

  For some reason he wished again he could tell the color of her very annoyed eyes. “I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he defended hotly, his hands on his hips.

  “And how was I to know that?” she asked just as hotly. “Daniel said you haven’t used the cabin in a couple of months because your business keeps you so busy. He assured me I’d be alone.”

  “I needed a break,” he admitted reluctantly, but not from his business. His matchmaking mother was about to drive him over the deep end.

  She didn’t lower her chin or her steady gaze. “So did I.”

  Heavy black eyebrows lifted. His innate curiosity kicked in again. “From what?”

  Her chin went up a notch. “That’s my business.” She stepped around him. “Nice chatting with you, but I must be going.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” he told her flatly.

  Picking up her case, she whirled. He could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Fat chance of that happening,” he told her and watched her eyes narrow. Fire and spirit. Intriguing eyes, fascinating face—if he were looking. He wasn’t. “Driving down these mountains at night can be tricky. If you won’t think about yourself, think about the other person who happened to have the bad luck of being on the road with you.”

  Catherine’s grip on the handle tightened. She glanced at her rental she had picked up at the Albuquerque International Airport, a nice, nondescript beige Ford Taurus. She had needed that anonymity. Unfortunately, at the moment, she needed the power and maneuverability of her Porsche.

  Luke seemed to realize her hesitation. “Stay until morning, and then if you still want to go, you can.”

  There was no hesitation in her reply. “I’ll want to go.”

  “Fine.” He grabbed the garage door. “Move out of the way.”

  “I can do it.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t.” His large hand remained on the door.

  She stepped out of the way and watched him close the garage door, his movements smooth and easy. He moved extremely well for such a big man. Like a wild animal, all grace and power and strength. She shivered and glanced away.

  Silently, they walked back to the cabin. “Good night,” she said, the moment they were inside. Somehow he made her feel awkward and off-balance. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt that way around a man before. She was sure she didn’t like it one bit.

  “Good night and I meant what I said about you being safe,” he said, his deep voice as steady and direct as his gaze.

  Catherine simply stared at him. Fifteen minutes ago he had wanted to separate her head from her shoulders, now he was trying to reassure her. Oddly it wasn’t necessary. She trusted him because she trusted Daniel Falcon, a man whose integrity was impeccable, and he hadn’t been able to praise his cousin, Luke Grayson, enough.

  To Daniel’s way of thinking, Luke was an honorable man. Tonight he had proved Daniel to be right. Although she didn’t like to think about it, Luke had seen her in her nightgown and could not have cared less. Even after the danger she presented was over, his black eyes had held anger, not lust.

  A lifetime ago, she might have idly wondered why he wasn’t interested. Now she was thankful he wasn’t. “I’m sorry about the gun,” she finally said.

  He gave a curt nod. “I guess you had cause.”

  Stiff-necked and stubborn, but then, so was she at times. “I guess I did.”

  Dark brows bunched. “Who taught you to handle a gun?”

  She guessed she owed him that. “A private instructor,” she answered and turned to leave.

  “Maybe I should know your entire name since we’re going to be sleeping under the same roof.”

  She swung back around and stared into the depths of his piercing black eyes. An unexpected ball of heat rolled through her. Her hand flexed. “Catherine Stewart.”

  “You have much use for a gun in your line of work, Catherine?”

  Once, she could have laughed at such a question. Unfortunately she had begun to think differently six months ago, but that was her own business. “I’m a child psychologist and teach at UCLA.”

  His eyebrows bunched. He well remembered his psychology instructors. None looked like the sensual woman standing before him. If they had, he definitely would have sat in the front row. “You don’t look old enough.”

  “Same thing my first-time students whisper behind my back. By midterm they’re singing a different tune,” she said with quiet pride.

  “Make them sweat, do you?”

  “I make them learn,” she corrected emphatically.

  “I just bet you do,” he said, the corner of his mouth slightly tilted.

  Catherine caught herself watching his mouth, waiting for the smile to break free. When it didn’t happen, she almost sighed in regret, then realized what she had been doing. “Good night.” She turned and went quickly to her bedroom.

  Moistening her dry lips, she closed her eyes and leaned against the door. Maybe she should have gone. Something told her that if she wasn’t careful, Luke Grayson could be just as dangerous to her peace of mind as driving down the mountain.

  CATHERINE AWOKE SHORTLY AFTER DAWN SATURDAY morning and watched through the two double windows in her room as the sun pushed away the night shadows. She hadn’t expected to sleep that long. Too many things were on her mind these days.

  Sitting up in bed, she scooted back against the carved headboard. The chair of psychology at her university had indicated her name was among those being considered to head the Department of Developmental Psychology. Which, while a coup for her, meant even longer hours and more responsibility. Meanwhile, the publisher of her children’s stories was making noises that they wanted to send her on another grueling and demanding tour. Children’s advocacy groups were pressuring her to become a national spokesperson. Everyone wanted something from her.

  She couldn’t think about any of that until she straightened out her own life. And as her no-nonsense mother had told her, no one could do that but her. Easier said than done, and it was becoming more difficult by the day.

  Delicate fingers rubbed her temple. Maybe, as she hoped and everyone had said, all she needed was some downtime. This was the first vacation she had taken in three years.

  Daniel had told her the woods were peaceful and serene. After spending the past three days aimlessly wandering them, she had come to believe him. Too bad he wasn’t right about having the cabin to herself as well.

  To be fair, that wasn’t Daniel’s fault or Luke’s. She was the outsider. It was just that she needed time to sort through her l
ife and she felt she could do it here. There was something about the woods that called to her, soothed her. There was nothing that said she had to be happy about leaving. Throwing back the covers, she bounded out of bed.

  LUKE HEARD CATHERINE’S FEET HIT THE FLOOR. HE’D been awake for the past two hours, unconsciously listening for the sound. He had thought it would come closer to noon than eight. Despite her being at the cabin, he had figured her to be the type of woman who required pampering. Everything about her screamed wealth and privilege. Including her attitude. She was a woman used to being answered to rather than answering to someone.

  A scowl deepened the lines around his eyes as he remembered the gun she’d held on him. In her nightgown no less, and she hadn’t batted an eyelash. He had devoted too much time last night to wondering if her action was out of brave necessity or if she thought nothing of it since she was used to spending a lot of time with men in her nightgown. With a body and face like hers, she wouldn’t have the gown on for long.

  With a grunt of self-disgust he climbed out of bed and headed for the walk-in shower. Like a rookie, he had let Catherine take him by surprise a second time. This time in his dreams. He hadn’t thought he’d paid that much attention to what she was wearing, but apparently he had.

  In his dream he could recall every sensual detail of the high, proud thrust of her breasts against the lace bodice, the smooth slope of her shoulders, the slender curves of her body, and long, shapely legs. The mussed hair added to the sensual image and gave her the look of a woman who had been thoroughly satisfied in bed.

  A muttered curse hissed through clenched teeth. What he needed was a good run. Unfortunately, the reason he needed the exercise was the reason he couldn’t go. He usually went in little more than briefs. Too revealing in his present state.

  His irritation increasing, Luke turned his attention to trying to figure out the answer to his original questions. What had made Catherine so handy with a gun, and why had Daniel sent her to the cabin? He was all for self-protection, but the stopping power of the automatic signified more than that.