by Cassie Miles
“How bad do you want it?”
She tried to pull her hands free, but he held her wrists firmly. He was in complete control. Or so he thought.
She widened her eyes and softened her voice. “Please, Cole. You’re hurting me.”
Concern flashed in his eyes. Immediately, he released his grasp.
And she took advantage. She rose up and twisted her body, throwing him off balance. Now she was on top. “Gotcha.”
“You win.”
He lay on his back with his arms sprawled above his head while she fondled, stroked and pinched. Her fingers glided along the ridges of his muscles. Leaning down, she nuzzled his chest and torso. Her excitement was building to a fever pitch. She didn’t want to wait for one more second.
“Condom?” she asked.
“Wallet.”
She crawled across the carpet to where he’d discarded his jeans. Was it really necessary to stop for a condom? Of course, it was. She gave lectures on the importance of protected sex. She had to do this.
After clumsy fumbling, she held the tiny see-through package in her hand. “It’s blue.”
“The only ones they had in super, gigantic, extra large.”
He took charge again, and she let him. When he plunged into her, she gave a sharp cry. Her last coherent thought was that this was the best sex she’d ever had. Then she abandoned herself to the sheer physical pleasure of their lovemaking.
When it was over, she was shivering from head to toe. Not because it was fifty-two degrees in the room. This was a sensual release that had been building in her for years.
For the first time, she wondered if there might be a future for her and Cole.
COLE WANTED TO SPEND the rest of the day making love to Rachel. Their hideout in the office of the ice cream parlor seemed insulated from the rest of the world. After he converted the futon into a bed and spread out blankets, they were cozy and comfortable.
He lay on his back, and she snuggled her head against his shoulder. Cuddling had never been one of his favorite things, but he was betting that this cuddle would lead to something more.
“I only had the one rubber,” he said.
“That could be a problem.” She rose up on an elbow and looked down at him. “I’m guessing that Lily Belle doesn’t keep a condom supply in her desk.”
He looked up at her, memorizing every detail. Until now, she’d been so bundled up in turtlenecks and sweaters that he hadn’t been able to appreciate her. From the neck down, she was firm but not too muscular and surprisingly graceful from the arch of her back to the crook of her elbow. Her throat was as smooth as ivory. He liked her short hair; it suited her face. Her high forehead balanced a strong, stubborn jaw. And her eyes? Those big blue eyes sparkled with humor and excitement.
He already wanted her again. “Would it help if I told you I recently had a physical, and I’m clean?”
“I give health lectures about bad boys like you. You wouldn’t believe the stories high school boys come up with when they’re trying to get their girlfriends to say yes.”
“Actually, I’m familiar with those stories.”
She traced a line down his nose and across his lips.
“You and me? We’re not in high school. Nothing you could say would convince me. It’s my decision whether or not I take a risk.”
They had bigger threats to worry about than unprotected sex. Armed killers could burst through the door at any given moment. He needed to deal with that situation.
Reaching toward the coffee table, he picked up the cell phone and turned it on. “I want to check in with Pearl and see how she’s doing.”
“Put it on speaker,” Rachel said.
Pearl answered right away on her hands-free phone. Her voice was chipper. “I got on the highway with no problem. The snowplows have been out, and I’m making good time.”
“Any roadblocks?”
“None that I’ve seen. But there were a whole lot of police cars on the road when I was leaving Grand Lake.”
“Are you headed to Jenna’s house?”
“Certainly not. I’d rather camp in the forest than see that lying, little snake again. I’m staying with a friend in Denver. She has a penthouse condo in a secure building. We ought to be safe.”
He was glad to hear that Pearl was taking the threat seriously.
Rachel piped up, “How’s Goldie?”
“Sleeping in the car seat, snug as a bug. I might have to stop and give her a bottle, but I want to get out of the high country. There’s more bad weather coming in.”
“How bad?” he asked.
“Another eight to ten inches. On the radio, the ski areas are whooping and hollering about great conditions.”
More snow presented an obstacle. He wanted to drive to Granby tonight, to talk with Jenna Cambridge and take possession of the packages Penny had sent to her. “Take care of yourself, Pearl. We’ll call again later. Don’t tell anyone else where you are.”
“I understand.”
“Give Goldie a hug,” Rachel said.
He disconnected the call and looked toward her. She was sitting up on the futon, wide awake and alert, with a blanket around her shoulders to keep warm. He asked, “How are you at driving in snow?”
“Better than you, California boy.”
“I’m good in a high-speed chase.”
“What about black ice?”
“Have I mentioned how much I hate the mountains?”
“Seriously,” she said, “the highway ought to be okay. The real problem will come when we get to Granby. Side roads don’t get cleared too often. Since Pearl took the four-wheel drive SUV that belongs to Lily Belle, we’re driving her little compact—not the best vehicle for deep snow.”
“Do you think we can make it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “If we run into trouble, we’re caught.”
It wouldn’t be too bad to stay here overnight. He and Rachel could find plenty of ways to amuse themselves. “Let’s call your cop buddy and see what he’s found out.”
Like Pearl, Deputy Jim Loughlin was quick to pick up. Had he been hovering by the phone, waiting for their call? Cole wanted to trust this guy because Rachel did, but he was realistic about the responsibilities of a law enforcement officer. At some point, Loughlin would have to obey orders. His tone was anxious. “Are you all right? Can you tell me if you’re all right?”
“I’m good.” She gave Cole a sultry smile. “Better than you’d expect.”
“I went to the address you gave me,” Loughlin said. “You were right. There was blood all over. Bullet holes. Looked like a semiautomatic weapon.”
“Did you report it?” she asked.
“I should have, but I didn’t.” He grumbled, “I couldn’t figure out how to tell the sheriff without mentioning that I’d been in contact with you.”
“Sorry to put you in this position,” Cole said.
“Not your fault. There’s something about this manhunt that just doesn’t ring true. For starters, Rachel, you’re obviously not a criminal.”
“Thanks,” she said. “What else bothers you?”
“The sheriff stopped by to see the baby. By the way, Sarah appreciates those instructions you left behind about breast feeding. My mom kept telling her that the bottle was better, but Sarah won’t hear of it.”
“Good for Sarah.”
Cole told himself to be patient while the deep, rumbling voice of Deputy Loughlin talked about being a new daddy. His chat about breast feeding made a strange counterpoint to the massacre of the gang, but it was best to let Rachel’s friend take his time.
“Anyway,” Loughlin said, “there was an FBI agent with the sheriff. A guy by the name of Prescott.”
Son of a bitch. Cole could think of only one reason why Prescott would be there. He knew about Rachel and wanted to get a lead on her whereabouts. It was looking more and more like Agent Wayne Prescott was a link to Baron.
Rachel asked, “What did Prescott want to know?”
&nb
sp; “Here’s the funny thing about him. He claimed that he doesn’t know this area, but he used the names of local landmarks. Things like Pete’s Pie Shack and Hangman’s Tree. Stuff you wouldn’t find on a map.”
“You thought he was fishy?”
“Something about him didn’t smell right,” Loughlin said. “Then he asked me about you and the clinic. He mentioned your vacation and asked if we knew where you were going. But he never identified you as the female fugitive. The only name that’s been given is Cole Bogart.”
She shot him a questioning glance. Bogart wasn’t the name he’d told her; that was his undercover identity.
Loughlin continued, “You’re both described as being armed and dangerous based on the murders of those three people. But if you killed them, how did you remove the bodies? And why?”
“Somebody wants to keep the house where they were killed a secret,” Cole said. “Did you check the records to find the owner?”
“It’s a corporate group called Baron Enterprises. The primary name is Xavier Romero, who happens to be the owner of the Black Hawk casino that got robbed.”
Cole knew that name, knew it well. Xavier Romero had been a small-time operator in the Southern California gambling scene. He was also a snitch—a likable old guy but shifty as a snake. Cole hadn’t known that Romero owned the casino they hit.
Deputy Loughlin cleared his throat. “This just doesn’t add up. Why would the gang hide in a house that belongs to the guy they robbed?”
Xavier Romero had to be in on the plot. Cole asked, “How much does Romero claim was stolen?”
“Over a hundred thousand.”
Cole shook his head. “It wasn’t half that much.”
“The robbery report stated the higher amount,” Jim said, “which means the insurance company will pay out the hundred thousand to the casino.”
“Unless we can prove fraud,” Cole said. “We need to find that money.”
“We’re talking about a lot of cash.” The deputy’s voice took on a note of suspicion. “I’ve never met you, Cole. I’m putting a lot of trust in you based on what Rachel says. Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
“Thank you, Jim,” Rachel said. “We’ll be in touch as soon as we know anything else. Give Caitlyn a kiss from me.”
She ended the call and turned to him. “Is that the answer you were looking for? Is Xavier Romero really the Baron?”
“Not possible. Romero is close to seventy. A potbellied old man with thinning white hair and thick glasses. His hands look arthritic, but he can make the cards dance when he’s dealing poker.”
“He must be Baron’s associate. They’re part of the same group that owns the house. And it sounds like he intends to commit insurance fraud with Baron’s help.”
“Right on both counts, partner.”
She shook her head. “I’m not your partner in crime. Or crime solving. I’m not cut out for this undercover life.”
“It’s a gift,” he said.
“Is it, Mister Bogart?”
“That’s my undercover name. Cole Jeremy McClure is the name on my birth certificate.”
“You didn’t lie to me.” She snuggled down beside him. Her flesh molded to his. “That makes me feel good.”
He pulled her close. There were a number of things he ought to be thinking about: logistical problems in driving through another damn blizzard to Granby at night and the usefulness of calling Waxman with the new information about Xavier Romero. But his brain was clouded by her nearness. The scent of her body made him stupid. And happy.
He brushed his lips across her forehead and looked into her eyes. “How do you feel about making love sans condom?”
“I’m for it,” she said.
“What if you get pregnant?”
“This is something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Never. Do you understand? Never.”
“I get it.”
“But the truth is that I wouldn’t mind getting pregnant. At this point in my life, I’m ready to have a baby.”
His heart made a loud thud. His pulse stopped. He was lying naked with a woman who wanted a baby. Danger, danger, danger. “Excuse me?”
She laughed. “I’ve never seen the blood drain from someone’s face so fast. Are you going into shock? Should I start CPR?”
“I’m cool.”
“If I should happen to get pregnant, I wouldn’t saddle you with any responsibilities. Being a single mom isn’t my first choice. But I’m in my thirties, and I want kids. I love kids. And it’s entirely possible that I’m not cut out for the whole marriage thing.”
“Marriage?” He choked out the word. Was she trying to give him a heart attack?
“Don’t worry, Cole. I’m not looking for a relationship with you. How could I? You live in California. And you have an incredibly dangerous job. Frankly, I wouldn’t marry you on a bet.”
His mood swung one hundred and eighty degrees. Because she said she’d never marry him, he had an urge to propose. “Are you giving me a preemptive rejection?”
“Absolutely. Long-distance relationships hardly ever work. And your undercover work scares me.”
“Doesn’t seem fair,” he muttered.
“Don’t feel bad. I consider you to be an excellent sperm donor. You’re intelligent, and you seem to be healthy. There aren’t any weird genetic diseases lurking around in your DNA, are there?”
“Not that I know of.”
She slipped her fingertips down his chest. “I don’t think we need to worry about not having a condom.”
When he kissed her, he was thinking of more than her slim, supple body. In his mind, he visualized a home with Rachel. She’d be wearing his grandmother’s wedding ring and holding his baby in her arms. Not a typical fantasy for making love. But he found the thought of being with her—long-term and committed—to be intensely arousing.
Chapter Fourteen
Though Rachel didn’t want to get dressed, she shoved her arms into her sleeves and pulled on her turtleneck. Hours had passed since they’d entered the windowless office behind the ice cream parlor, but the time had gone faster than the blink of an eye. She wished these moments could stretch into days, months, years.
In a way, it felt like she’d known Cole forever. There was something so familiar about him. In spite of being opposites, they were well-matched, like a hook and an eye. A bolt and a screw. She chuckled to herself. Best not to think about screws or she’d never get her clothes on.
Their passion was wild. It was crazy. And she knew better. She was an adult—a thirty-something woman who had her life on track. Why had she abandoned all restraint? Was it the intensity of being chased? Did she cling to him because she was terrified that she wouldn’t survive this ordeal?
Reluctantly, she zipped her jeans. Maybe the answer was Cole himself. He was different from all the other bad boys she’d known. True, he had an edge. The man earned his living by deception. But he also made her laugh. And he was capable of incredible tenderness.
He smacked her butt and said, “Get your jacket on. If it’s not snowing too hard, we need to get on the road.”
She was praying for a blizzard. “I don’t want to go.”
He yanked her into his arms and held her tightly against him. She liked the rough-and-ready way he handled her. He treated her as an equal, not a porcelain figurine that might shatter and break.
“Rachel, beautiful Rachel.” His voice dropped to a low, intimate level. “If we had a choice, I’d keep you here forever. I’d burn your clothes so you could never get dressed.”
The way she’d burned motorcycle man’s leather jacket? “Do you ride motorcycles?”
“Only Harleys.”
“Figures.”
Pulling away from him, she shrugged into her parka. The superwarm coat felt empty without the added burden of Goldie snuggled against her chest. “Do you think Pearl is okay?”
“We checked with her an hour ago. She was at her friend�
�s condo, feeding the baby.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He nodded. “It’s going to be a long time before she’s okay. She lost a daughter and gained a granddaughter. In the space of a day, her whole life got turned upside down.”
Like mine. “I’m dressed. What’s next?”
“Come with me.” He took her hand. “I’m not going to turn on any lights. Somebody might notice.”
A shiver trickled down her spine. “Do you think they’re watching?”
“Don’t know.”
They left the office, and he closed the door behind them. For a moment, they stood in the kitchen area and waited for their eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The empty area with stainless steel fixtures felt cold, even with her parka. She held Cole’s hand as he moved toward the front of the shop.
The glow from a streetlight fell softly through the wide, snow-splattered front windows. They circled the serving counter and crossed the white tile floor until they stood at the glass, looking out.
Though it was only nine o’clock, there was no traffic on the main street running through Grand Lake. Snow piled up three feet high at the curb, and a car parked at the side of the road was completely buried. The sidewalk had been cleared enough that two people could walk abreast. On the opposite side of the street, the storefronts were all dark. The town had closed down early.
The light snowfall disappointed her. She’d been hoping for a raging storm that would force them to cancel their plan.
“Looks peaceful,” Cole said.
“These blizzards can be real deceptive. I vote to stay here until morning.”
He stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against his chest, feeling cozy and protected in his embrace.
“It’s pretty,” he said. “Maybe your mountains aren’t so bad, after all.”
She closed her eyes and thought about spending time with him in a ski lodge with paneled walls, a fireplace and a mug of hot buttered rum. “There’s nothing as beautiful as a blue sky day with the sun sparkling on champagne powder snow.”
“A full moon on a white, sandy beach,” he said.
“Mountain streams.”
“Palm trees waving in the breeze.” He hugged her. “When this is over, I want to take you to California. You can vacation with me.”