“Arthur?”
“What?”
Guffin moved his shoulders diffidently. “I think they may have taken the airport exit. We’ve gone nearly twenty miles, and I don’t think an old Plymouth is that fast.”
At the arrival terminal, Lesley stood on the curb while Ethan unloaded her bags. Mara leaned against the scorching hood, unable to figure out how to play this one. After all, what was the proper decorum when a woman stole another woman’s almost lover? Despite all the roles she’d played before, this one was new.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Lesley advanced to stand next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder. Versace sunglasses reflected the bright rays, while Mara squinted against the glare. Together, silently, they watched passengers being unloaded and luggage pile up along the curb. “Ethan is afraid of you.”
The comment startled Mara, but she merely replied, “Why? I’m no threat to him.”
Laughing softly, Lesley corrected, “You’re a threat to everything.” Feeling magnanimous, she patted the younger woman’s arm. “Ethan is a good, solid man who desperately wishes he weren’t. He pays his tickets on the last day they’re due, but he pays them. And I realize he was attracted to me because I’m a good, solid woman who speaks her mind and is just a little out of the ordinary. Growing up as I did, I had the freedom to be singular, but he didn’t.”
Mara stiffened. “I know. I’ve known him longer than you have.”
“Don’t get your hackles up, Mara. Let me finish my good deed for the day.” Lesley faced her, tipped the glasses up, and locked their eyes. “Once in his life has Ethan done exactly what he wanted and damn the consequences. When he fell in love with you. That act of derring-do earned him an empty wallet and a broken heart. A dozen years wasted, pining for the one that got away. For some reason, probably testosterone poisoning, he wants to try it again. But he is convinced that if he does, you’ll disappear. Again.”
“I love him,” Mara protested. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Forgive the amateur psychology, but you loved him before. And you sacrificed your happiness together to save him. From your father or yourself. Doesn’t really matter. Until you’re ready to stand for him, you’ve already got one foot out the door. And this time, Mara, if you let him go, I won’t give up so easily.” Seeing Ethan moving toward them, she reached into the front seat and slung the strap of her black Coach bag over her shoulder. “My last bit of advice. Don’t wait for him to see that you’ve changed. Show him. He’s a scientist for a reason. He only believes in what he can see.”
“Ready?” Ethan offered his arm gallantly, and Lesley slid her hand through.
Tossing a conspiratorial grin over her shoulder, Lesley finished, “Take care, Mara. Good luck with your treasure hunt. Be sure you know what you’re looking for. As the expression says, you just might get your heart’s desire.”
Chapter 20
“We ought to find a motel and camp for the night.” Mara twisted to face Ethan, eyes shuttered against the afternoon glare. Dusk would be coming soon, and because they were avoiding major roadways, a two and a half hour trip had stretched inexorably into four. Fatigue deadened her eyelids and she blinked sleepily.
Too much had happened in the past week, too much for her system to process. Her exhaustion was mirrored in the slump to Ethan’s shoulders, the lethargic glaze over black irises. “You’re on your last legs, and it’s an amateur mistake not to refuel when you’ve gotten the advantage. We won’t have it for long,” she warned. “Rabbe will be looking for us.”
“He’ll have to be damned good to find us out here.” Ethan peered out at the rutted farm road, lined by sun-scorched grass tendrils that begged for rain. Though he’d grown up in an eerily similar town, the likeness jarred. Made him think of a time when he had rumbled along a country road, Mara tucked beneath his arm. “Where exactly will we find a motel around here? I only have credit cards with me, and I’ve watched plenty of movies where they use credit card receipts to track you.”
“Good point. I don’t have much cash.” But they couldn’t stay on the road, and with all of Ethan’s belongings strewn across the backseat, they couldn’t camp out in the car. Only one man she knew could help them out. Assuming he was available and amenable. Mara stuck out her hand. “Let me use your cell phone.”
Ethan fumbled in his pocket and dropped the device into her outstretched hand. “Why don’t you have a phone?”
“Too easy to triangulate locations these days. Plus, a good sound man can tap into a conversation and you’re toast.” That she’d used both techniques herself wasn’t worth mentioning, she decided. “But cell towers are so sparse out here, they’ll have a hard time pinning down a location for us,” she explained breezily.
“Reassuring.”
Ignoring the dry comment, Mara tapped in a phone number. After a brief pause, the call connected. “Sebastian? Hey, you.”
“Find your pot of gold, darling?” Standing in the shadows of a bank, tropical breeze wafting past, waiting impatiently for the clerks to tack up the Closed sign, Sebastian welcomed the distraction. “Or other, more tempting prizes?”
“Getting close,” she responded, deliberately vague. She had no intention of discussing Ethan with a smug Sebastian. The man already thought too highly of his insight. “But I’m in a bit of a jam. Conroy has been able to track us down, and now Rabbe’s got us hiding out in cattle country. I need a motel. Paid in full before my arrival. Can you help?”
Sebastian heard the thread of exhaustion in the lovely southern lilt that he adored. Once again he regretted not being able to join her on her expedition, but Mara had been determined to make her own way. Stubborn lady. “Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer more plush digs? It continues to disturb me how cavalier you are with your accommodations.”
“No time for snobbery.” They had this argument each time they worked together. Of course, Sebastian’s only dependents were himself and his ego; while she had more pressing demands on her earnings. “We need a place fast and one that won’t ask for identification.” She quickly gave him an approximation of their location. “Cheap and seedy.”
With a sigh, he lowered his phone and engaged another program. Seconds later he located a suitable hovel. “In a town fifteen miles away. The Renegade Saloon and Motel. I’ve arranged for the room, but I would expect you’ll need quarters for the bed.”
“Funny.” Mara grabbed a pen and pad. “Where is it?”
Sebastian rattled off the directions, and after another caustic lament about her lack of taste, rang off. Mara scribbled the last of the information. “We’ve got a place to stay.”
“Exactly who in the hell is Sebastian?”
Mara swiveled her head, startled. In profile, Ethan resembled nothing so much as an angry god about to smite a hapless peon. The change in countenance was instructive. His long, sensuous mouth had thinned ominously in unexpected reaction. Nostrils flared and the black eyes went flat. Slowly, guardedly, she answered, “A friend.”
His voice lowered the temperature in the car by several degrees. “Is he a close friend?”
“Best friend.” Aware she tempted fate, Mara nevertheless smiled at the memory of how she and Sebastian first met. Two enraged men who blamed her for their losses at the track had planned to exact their pound of flesh literally. Sebastian made the first of many well-timed appearances, and Mara learned a nifty way of laying a man out flat. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s also a colleague.”
Colleague. The same meaningless description he’d used for Lesley, Ethan realized. But with Mara, relationships appeared fluid, easily disrupted by the moment’s impulse. Betrayingly, terribly, it occurred to him that he might simply be a pastime for her, something to do in Texas while hunting for treasure. They hadn’t discussed tomorrow or whether she had any plans.
A dull ache settled around his chest, rawed his throat as he remembered her promise. No more running. Which didn’t mean she wouldn’t walk away. After all,
if they were successful, she’d have more gold than Midas. Exactly what she’d searched for her entire life.
How foolish of him to imagine, for even a second, that he might mean more than money. More than excitement and danger and the art of the deal.
Especially if she had a partner willing to skirt the law with her. A man who brought a secretive smile to her face and was used to paying for her motel rooms.
Deliberately, Ethan squeezed the steering wheel, trying to level his tone, still his harshly thudding pulse. He had no right to interrogate her, no expectation that she’d been alone all these years. That she didn’t have someone waiting for her wherever she called home. But jealousy and logic were poor bedfellows. He asked tightly, “Does he often make hotel reservations for you?”
“When I need help, yes.” Mara clasped her hands beneath her chin, trying to fathom what she could hear beneath his words. Anger wound through his short, terse questions, buttressed by what sounded distinctly like jealousy. There was something else, but the description eluded her.
“Is he your lover?” The bald question tore out of him, and Ethan fixed his eyes on the road. Throat rough with confused frustration, he asked grittily, “Does he know you’re with me?”
Puzzled by the accusation, especially when she recalled their earlier passenger, Mara retorted, “We’re friends. Like you and Lesley.”
In response, the convertible’s engine roared as Ethan streaked forward. He shot her a narrow look. “I told you about Lesley the day you arrived.”
“Actually, I heard her on the answering machine.”
“The point is, you knew about her. Why haven’t you mentioned him?” And what the hell does he mean to you? He’d cut out his own tongue before he asked, though.
“Sebastian doesn’t really care to have his name bandied about.” Mara slid low on the seat, propped her feet on the dashboard. Guilt bumped into smug pleasure as she unraveled what was eating at Ethan. Fear. Of her and the life she led. She should tell him the whole truth, she thought.
“Is he as slimy as Rabbe or do you have better decision-making skills when it comes to picking bedmates?”
“Careful, Ethan.”
“I’m just asking questions. If he’s important to you, I’d like to know.”
“He prefers to keep a low profile.”
“Avoiding the cops?” Ethan notched the speedometer higher. Because he wanted to beg for an explanation, he sneered, “Sounds like a winner.”
“Sebastian is a unique man. Very good at what he does.” She permitted the innuendo to drift between them, enjoying the reversal. Watching Lesley and Ethan together had been hell. Ethan could rely on his imagination until he bothered to ask for the truth. Before he could respond, flat prairie yielded to more civilization. Mara glanced at her notes and instructed, “Take Route 21. The motel isn’t far.”
“I will pay him back.” Hating the thought of indebtedness, Ethan scowled. “Call him and tell him I’ll pay him back.”
“I will not.” Mara suppressed a chuckle, knowing it would only lead to an explosion. “He’s not paying for your room. He’s paying for mine. If you’d like to share it with me, you’re welcome to do so. Then you can pay me and salve your ego at the same time.”
“This isn’t about ego,” Ethan muttered. Driven, he edged the car faster. “I simply don’t like owing someone I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
He eased off the gas. Wearily, he swiped at his face, tired of trying to guess what lay ahead of him. In a sea of unsolved mysteries and hidden sins, her answer at this moment was the only one that mattered. Pride lost, he repeated on a desperate whisper, “Are you lovers?”
Mara thought of how she could use this, the whispered question that hung between them. Knots of tension tightened her gut, lodged in her throat. She understood the power of jealousy, how it could evoke passions and promises that would undo a lifetime of regret. A week ago, even five days ago, she would have told him yes and used his reaction to goad. The Mara she’d been would have lied to him without remorse and used his emotions to her ends. Would have stoked them until he told her anything she desired to hear.
“No. Sebastian and I are just friends. Only. Ever.”
Ethan slanted her a solemn look. “You were about to lie to me, weren’t you?”
With a wicked slash of a grin, she admitted, “Thought about it. Men do stupid things when they’re jealous.” She sobered abruptly. “I won’t lie to you, Ethan. Not again.”
He didn’t bother to protest that he wasn’t jealous, not with the surge of relief he’d felt. More, he was intrigued by her oath. “Why not?”
Why not? indeed. Mara stared at the blacktop, the slender white lines flashing past in rapid succession. A pattern repeated so often that it became truth. Like lying and wishing, like wanting without expecting to have. Like being so close to Ethan that he found it impossible to ever let her go. In her mind the white lines faded into images. His mouth on hers. Bodies fused. Heat and need and yearning wrapped around them. Binding them. Her skin shivered in reaction as she decided.
“Because I don’t want lies between us tonight. Especially not tonight.” She slid across the bench, the motion sinuous and threatening. Remembering Lesley’s admonition about initiative, she curled her hand around lean muscle, daring him to look. Mara nipped at his ear, her words a wisp of sensation and sound.
“Tonight, we both come clean, Ethan. No Lesley. No Sebastian. No twelve-year-old lies. Just you and me.” Tracing the line of his jaw, feeling his body stir so near her fingers, her voice grew husky as she seduced. And let herself believe. “Drive fast.”
The car stood idle in the lot, its dimmed lights facing Room 152. Beyond the flimsy blue door, a honeymoon suite had been decked out in a wide, king-sized bed draped in gaudy red and gold. Ornate scrolls and tacky cupids hung on the walls, decorated the single bureau that languished in a corner of the motley room.
Mara stood on threadbare maroon carpet and waited. It seemed forever that she’d waited. Tonight she’d come full circle. No more running. The oath sang in her head, in her blood. Ethan—brilliant, steady, courageous Ethan—would be hers once more.
Crimson danced around her in sunset. Ethan watched, determined to memorize every detail, every second. How the silky black curls slid luxuriously against his fingers. How amber eyes heated as he stroked the creamy skin at her temple.
Because he was a scientist, he felt compelled to question. To understand where this experiment would lead. “What are we doing here, Mara?”
She lifted her hand to capture his, dragging the strong, callused fingers to the place where her heart beat the strongest. Proudly, she fastened his touch there, shivered in reaction. Lost, she studied the bold sweep of brow, the beautiful features carved from stone and her most secret dreams. “I want you. Only you. Now. Tonight. Let me have you.”
“And tomorrow?” He skimmed his free hand along the subtle curve of her throat. The skin there was a cool satin, strong and smooth. She watched him, her breathtaking face an enigma that dared him to know its secrets. “What happens tomorrow?”
Because she was a gambler, she felt compelled to hedge. To not put a name to what had not been decided. “Anything we want.”
Reaching up, she anchored herself and let herself dream. In delicious exploration, she sampled the fullness of his bottom lip. With deliberate, wet forays, she traced the firm curve, licked at the seam that kept his mouth closed. On an ardent gasp, she snuck her way inside. Lips pressed close, she allowed her tongue to explore the dark, dangerous recesses. The serration of teeth, the slick caverns, the flavors of cool mint and Ethan. If she wasn’t careful, she imagined dreamily, she could be caught here.
Ethan welcomed the uninhibited exploration, fire building. When the quick, agile tongue slid against his, he trembled with restraint. Mara tasted him as though searching, and the hunt tempted him. But this too was her journey, what she found in him her discovery.
The urge to plunge tore
through him, but he settled for easing her closer, molding her body to his. While their mouths danced at her lead, Ethan reveled in the yield of curve to plane, of soft to hard. He clutched at writhing hips, guiding their motion. Memory and desire demanded that he act, but he could not. Would not. Tonight, he would take no more than was offered, would give only what was asked.
As though she could hear his thoughts, Mara broke the kiss. Leaning back, she searched the shadowed room, met his eyes. Black fire burned, and she shivered. “Kiss me, Ethan.”
Unerringly, he captured her mouth, eager to devour. Inside, he thought, he too would find answers. Inside, he sought the firm, damp underside of her tongue, determined to leave no part of her mouth untasted. Sensations overwhelmed, every new touch revealing her, revealing him. Sweet, edged by bitter. Sharp, softened by warmth. Paradox and paradise, a banquet of contradiction that commanded he seek more. Driven, he plummeted deep, stroking and tangling with her in the sultry heat.
“More.”
The demand rose between them, and he could not have said who spoke. Blindly, he slid one arm beneath her hips, lifted her up and into his hold. Desperately, he begged, repeating her words, “Let me have you.”
At the stark plea, Mara gripped the placket of buttons and yanked hard. Bared to her, his chest rose with ragged breaths, and she exulted. She pressed fevered kisses to the smooth, hardened flesh. Intoxicated, she drew wet lines across slashes of muscle, reveling when he arched in pleasure. Enchanted, she nipped at the flat disk, and sighed when he trembled. Amazed that he thought he had to ask, she promised, “You do. Have me.”
He broke then, fervent hands snaking beneath the thin layer of cotton to capture the fascinating globes of her lush breasts. He ignored the covering of lace, too impatient to release the catch. Seduced by the restless twisting of his hand, he crimped and tugged at the swollen flesh. Beneath his ministrations she stiffened into two hard peaks. He flattened his hands, letting her nipples pierce his palms as he soothed the ache he’d created. Tearing his mouth free, he feasted at her nape. “I don’t want anyone else to feel this with you. To be with you.”
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