"Frank, don't!" Natalie jumped up and ran to him, grabbing his arm. He shook her off, the gun waving wildly in his hand. The disruption was all Dillon had been waiting for. He dove toward Winslowe, pushing Natalie out of the way. He knocked the gun out of his hand and crashed with him to the floor. They wrestled and rolled, toppling a floor lamp and knocking against the coffee table. Dillon felt his own gun dislodge from behind his back, where he'd stuck it in his waistband.
Frank managed to get to his feet. Dillon plowed into him, but Frank maneuvered him into a stranglehold. Damn, how had he managed that? Using his elbow, Dillon jabbed Frank in the stomach and twisted away. He punched him in the jaw and Frank went down again. Too late, Dillon saw the gun on the floor within Frank's reach.
The professor made a grab for it, but Claire shot up off the couch and kicked it across the room. Frank encircled her ankle with his fingers, but Dillon stomped on his wrist until he released her.
"Move and stay back!" Dillon shouted at her. He hoped Claire listened because Winslowe tripped him and Dillon crashed to the floor before he could make sure.
Frank scrambled to his feet. He crouched low, signaling with his hands a come-and-get-me motion. "Come on, Mr. Private Investigator. What are you going to do now?" Behind his bent and crooked glasses, his eyes glowed feverishly.
Dillon slowly rose. The man had gone berserk and that was lending him unusual strength and confidence. "I'm just warming up, Winslowe. This isn't over by a long shot."
With a forward lunge, Dillon butted Frank with his head. Frank kneed Dillon in the chest, then took him down again and straddled him.
Damn, the nutty professor was turning out to be one hell of a fighter. He was pummeling the living crap out of Dillon. Winslowe must outweigh him by forty pounds, at least. This was getting downright embarrassing. And where the hell was Brozek?
Reaching upward, he buried his fingers in Frank's face, knocking his glasses off. Frank tried to shake him loose as he wrapped his hands around Dillon's neck.
Dillon increased the pressure and so did Frank. Heart pounding in his throat and lungs straining with the effort to breathe, Dillon heard Claire make distressful noises in the background. She stood behind Frank and he wanted to warn her to stay out of the way, but couldn't force the words out.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass shattering and Natalie screaming. Shards of glass cascaded down around him, and for a couple of seconds he couldn't register what had happened until Frank collapsed and slid sideways onto the floor.
Struggling to his feet, Dillon climbed over the fallen man and pulled Claire into his arms. "I told you to stay out of the way. You don't listen very well."
"No, I don't, do I?" She looked up into his face and smiled.
The shifting sensation in his chest nearly blindsided him. Dillon hugged her tight. He never wanted to let Claire out of his sight again. Never wanted to be that scared and unsure about anything ever again. "You could have been hurt, damn it." "You were the one getting hurt." She wiped blood away from a cut on his cheek.
He winced. "Ouch."
"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" Claire wrapped her arms around his waist and tenderly administered first aid, spreading kisses over one cheek, then the other, then the corners of his mouth.
When Dillon couldn't stand it any longer, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. God, she felt good. And tasted even better. His body reacted immediately and with embarrassing force. A sudden and urgent need to possess Claire, body and soul, assailed him.
Bed. He had to get them in bed as soon as possible. He wanted to reassure himself she was unharmed. Needed to see her naked. Needed to be inside her. Just plain needed her.
Claire pulled away and looked up into his eyes. "I was so frightened."
"You weren't the only one, babe. When Winslowe answered your phone, I nearly lost it." The thought of Claire in danger, that she might die and he'd never get the chance to tell her he loved her or make love to her again had made him crazy with fear. To never see her smile or raise that haughty little chin again was unthinkable.
"Frank fooled us all," Claire said. "I still can't believe he's the hacker. And where did he learn to fight like that?"
"I don't know. He had me going there for a minute. Nice move with the vase, by the way." Dillon pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling the soft, subtle scent of her. "Thanks for saving my butt."
"No problem. It's a butt worth saving." Claire pulled him closer for another kiss.
The front door crashed open and Brozek rushed in, gun drawn.
"Hey Polack! What took you so damn long?" Dillon asked, keeping Claire snug by his side. "Where the hell have you been?"
Brozek shoved his gun back in the holster and strode into the room, surveying the damage. "I lost contact right after you went in. Decided to give you a little time. Sorry about that."
"Now that you're here, you can wrap things up. I'm taking Claire home."
Brozek quirked a brow. "Sure thing, buddy. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Frank. "Looks like I missed a hell of a fight."
"It was one for the books," Dillon said.
Claire pushed out of his arms and frowned. "I can't go home now. What about Natalie?" She walked over to where her friend stood looking down at Frank lying on the floor. "Nat? Are you okay?"
Natalie nodded. "I couldn't let him shoot himself. I cared for him. Or thought I did. How could I have been so mistaken in him? That isn't like me, is it?"
"Everyone makes mistakes," Claire said. "None of us suspected him. Try to shake it off, Nat. Remember your motto? So many men; so little time."
Natalie straightened her shoulders. "Right. And it's time to move on. After all, there are more fish in the ocean."
Claire hugged her. "That's the Natalie I know and love."
Natalie hugged her back, then shook a finger at her. "I have a bone to pick with you. What's all this about Mr. Macho being a private eye? Why didn't you tell me what was going on?"
Dillon came to stand by Claire and put his arm around her. "She was sworn to secrecy and couldn't tell anyone. We were undercover. The less people who knew, the more likely we were to succeed."
Natalie narrowed her eyes at Brozek. "So he's a private eye, too? I thought he was casing the joint."
Brozek squatted beside Frank, but looked up and grinned. "I was casing the joint, only in a good way." He winked, then turned back to feel for a pulse on Frank's neck.
Natalie frowned. "Do you think he's in a coma? Shouldn't we take him to the hospital or something?"
"I'm on it." Brozek rose to his feet and slipped his cell phone from his belt. "I'm calling the cops. They'll take it from here."
"Excellent." Dillon kissed Claire's hair. "Let's get going. I'm driving you home." He crossed the room, snagged her purse from the coffee table and began stuffing things inside. He couldn't wait to get her alone so he could reassure himself that she was indeed safe and unharmed.
"I can't leave Natalie," Claire said.
"Brozek will be here. He'll keep her company. Won't you, buddy?"
"Sure thing," Brozek said, smiling at Natalie.
Natalie hugged Claire. "Go on. I'll be fine. Looks like I've already found another fish."
****
In the car, Claire's adrenaline rush faded fast, leaving her spent and numb. She stared unseeingly out the passenger window as Dillon sped along the freeway to her condo. She must be in shock, because nothing registered; everything passed in a blur.
The extraordinary events of the past few hours played over and over in her mind. She could still see Frank pointing the gun at Dillon. Fear glued her throat tight and she clenched her hands into fists to keep them from trembling. She'd died a thousand deaths witnessing his fight with Frank. A quick glance at Dillon, his strong profile illuminated from the soft glow of lights on the dashboard, and Claire knew she was hopelessly in love with him. Maybe that's why she felt numb. The case was over. Dillon would be leaving soon.
"We're home," Dillon said as he pulled into her garage.
Home. If only . . .
He helped her from the car and into her condo. He eased her coat from her shoulders and tossed it over the back of the sofa. Then he took her in his arms and held her against his chest. The steady beat of his heart thumped beneath her ear.
He was alive and so was she. They'd survived the ordeal. And somehow, she'd survive after Dillon was gone. She wouldn't think about it. For now, they were together. She would live for the moment.
Claire felt Dillon's lips on her hair. She breathed in his musky scent. The icy numbness melted away, leaving a molten hunger rampaging through her veins. "Make love to me, Dillon." Make me forget. Make me feel alive.
He didn't say anything. Only brushed her cheek with his finger, gently tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her chin up until she met his gaze.
Claire's heart lurched and her knees sagged when he lowered his mouth, swiping her lips with his tongue before plunging in. Dillon kept a tight hold on her, cupping and squeezing her bottom with his hand, pulling her close to nestle snugly against his hardness.
The kiss was tender, almost reverent--as if he were savoring the taste of her. She felt his body shake with the fine tremors of desire. Something was different, but she couldn't get a handle on it. Couldn't think. Only feel.
Intense yearning pooled in her stomach and lower; her nipples grew taut, straining against her sweater. Claire wanted to jerk the woolen fabric away. She wanted no barriers between Dillon and herself. She wanted to feel naked skin rub naked skin.
"Take me to bed." She kissed the faint dimple in his strong chin. "Please."
"Yes, ma'am." Dillon scooped her into his arms, his lips never leaving hers as he carried her down the hall.
When they reached the bedroom, he let her slide down the length of his body. He backed her against the door, lifted the hem of her sweater and swept it up over her head and flung it aside. With deft fingers, Dillon unhooked the front clasp of her bra and tossed it aside, too.
Tenderness gave way to urgent, needy passion. He covered her mouth and plundered with his tongue, kneading her breasts, touching her aching nipples, all the while grinding his arousal into her belly.
Claire felt her body instantly respond--her panties dampened in readiness to receive him. She clutched Dillon's arms, his muscled biceps steel beneath her fingers.
"Bed, Dillon. Let's get in bed."
"In a minute, babe." He knelt before her and stripped her skirt down around her ankles. Kissed her through her panties before removing them. Ran his hands over her thighs, caressed the sensitive skin behind her knees. He inched his way back up, mouthing her intimate flesh, sliding two fingers inside.
Claire arched her back and spread her legs, lunging forward, seeking more. Dillon didn't disappoint her. He began the magic rhythm--thrusting deeply, withdrawing slowly. Thrusting, withdrawing. He kissed her breasts, teased the nipples. Suckled one, then the other. Whispered encouragement as she moaned.
Digging her fingers in his hair, Claire held him close. Her body throbbed and vibrated. She moved with him, matching the rhythm. When he rubbed her with his thumb in counter-time, Claire exploded. Floating on clouds of pleasure, riding the aftershocks of orgasm, she cried out Dillon's name.
She needed him inside her! Now!
In tune with her needs, Dillon lifted her limp body and crossed the room in two long strides. He pulled the covers back from the bed and laid Claire on the clean white sheets. She watched as he quickly shucked his clothes and put on protection. Her heart swelled with love.
"Hurry," she said, lifting her arms in invitation.
The bed shifted under Dillon's weight. He pulled her beneath him and entered. She closed her eyes on a sigh.
"Look at me, Claire."
The intensity of his gaze matched the intensity of his thrusts. He plunged deep and hard, withdrew only to plunge again. He held her head steady, palms on her cheeks, fingers buried in her hair, eyes focused on her.
"I can't hold on much longer," he said. Lowering his head, he kissed her breast, straightened and pumped faster. "Come with me, babe."
Claire wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him in deeper. She toppled over the edge, dragging Dillon with her. He whispered her name over and over as his body shuddered in release. They fell asleep in each other's arms . . . still joined.
****
The morning sun woke Claire from a sound sleep. Under the down comforter, she snuggled closer to Dillon's naked body, seeking warmth. She adjusted her head against his shoulder. The soothing rhythm of his deep breathing and the beat of his heart created a cocoon of contentment she'd never experienced before.
Sometime during the night, Dillon had made love to her again with breath-taking ferocity. Like a man possessed. Like a man who was branding his woman, before leaving her behind.
The reality of that thought burst her bubble of happiness. A soft sob caught in Claire's throat. Immediately, Dillon's arm tightened around her.
"What's wrong, babe?"
His deep voice melted her insides. Why had she fallen in love with Dillon Anderson? She'd fought hard to be independent of men, to be strong and capable. Hadn't she promised herself she'd never lean on anyone ever again?
Visions of Frank and the events of last night flashed through her brain. Claire cringed inwardly as the feelings of fear bombarded her again. Fear for herself. Fear for Dillon.
He'd come running to the rescue. To save her. Mindless of the danger. And she'd sat helpless watching Frank and Dillon fight. But in the end, she had helped Dillon. She was the one who'd knocked Frank out with the vase. She hadn't been so helpless after all. Dillon had come to her rescue and she had rescued him right back. They'd worked together to get out of the dangerous situation. Like a team.
Now it was over. He would be going back to Dallas. Another sob escaped. She couldn't help it.
"Claire, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." She didn't want to spoil what little time they had left together.
He scooted up on his pillow, holding her at arm's length, searching her face. "Something's wrong. Tell me."
She shrugged. "I was just wondering when you were leaving."
Dillon's brows creased in a frown. "I'm not going anywhere."
Her tummy tilted. A glimmer of hope struggled to the surface. "You're not?"
He shook his head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Claire."
She sat straight up. Her heart hammered in her chest. "You do?"
He smiled that gut-wrenching, sexy-as-sin smile of his. "Oh yeah. I love you very much."
She was melting now, but still had doubts. "Don't you have to go back to Dallas? You live there. Your company is there. You have to go back."
"Maybe. We'll work something out. You're opening a new cafe there, aren't you? Natalie can take care of things here. She is the manager, after all. You can still supervise by commuting back and forth. It'll work. We'll make it work."
He pulled her close and kissed her hard. "I love you. I can't live without you. I hope you feel the same way. Can you can love me back, Claire?"
A joy rose up in her so fierce, she was afraid her heart would burst. "Of course, I love you. Why wouldn't I love you? What's not to love?"
"Why wouldn't you love me?" he said, exasperation evident in his voice. "We had an agreement, remember? About not getting involved. About not having a relationship. I'm afraid I reneged on our agreement."
Claire slid her arms around Dillon's shoulders, plastered her body against him and whispered something naughty in his ear. Something about what he could do with that agreement.
Suddenly, she was flat on her back with Dillon rising above her, a passionate gleam in his eye. "What a waste of time and energy. I'd much rather do this, wouldn't you?"
And to Claire's pleasure and delight, that's exactly what Dillon did. That night and forever.
THE END
###
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****
THE MEN OF THE DIAMONDBACK RANCH
by Anne Marie Novark
The McCades. Four brothers whose love for the land is engrained in their souls. Four rugged Texans who live and breathe for the women in their lives. Four heroes who will steal your heart.
Cameron McCade
Book One: The Doctor Wears A Stetson
Jessie Kincaid was fifteen and innocent when Cameron asked her to the prom. She lost her heart that night, but his plans didn't change. He left their small town to pursue his dreams.
Seventeen years later, a trip home leads Cameron McCade back to Salt Fork, Texas, and the newly widowed Jessie Devine. Since his return, the fire between them burns as hot as ever. Can they take up where they left off? Can Jessie risk her heart again?
Dallas McCade
Book Two: The Cowboy's Surrender
Copper River Oil Company is drilling for oil on the Diamondback Ranch. Dallas McCade can't do a thing to stop them, because he doesn't own the mineral rights. To add insult to injury, they've sent a woman to oversee the operation. Dallas has good reason to distrust women. As soon as he sets eyes on Gillian Bankston, he loses his temper . . . and his control. That makes him spitting mad and frustrated as hell.
Gillian has never met a man quite like Dallas. He's rough around the edges, but his kisses are hot enough to ignite a West Texas wildfire. Gillian's been burned before and wants nothing to do with love . . . or lust. Battle lines are drawn and it's war between the sexes. Will they surrender to the powerful attraction neither can deny? Who will be the first to wave the white flag?
Austin McCade
Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) Page 15