by Jill Shalvis
"Haley," he whispered, sliding his lips over the soft firmness of her neck to nuzzle at her throat, licking the frantic beat he found there. "God. You're driving me crazy."
"I'm not ready for this. Not yet." But she still held him to her, tightly.
He rubbed his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. He said the words his heart already knew, for she was in serious trouble and he instinctively knew she wasn't a criminal. "You're not like Lorraine. I'm sorry I said you were."
Taking a steadying breath, she backed up, into the sink. "I told you as much as I could."
"But—"
"What I'm dealing with is dangerous, Cam. People have … died." Her voice broke. "I'm afraid for you."
Moving forward, he bracketed her hips with his hands against the tile. "I'm not going to walk away from this. Don't ask me to. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm telling you that I'm here for you, no matter what it is."
"I don't need a hero."
"Good," he said with a little laugh. "Because I'm not hero material. But I'm your friend, and much more, if you'd only say the word. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Her eyes seemed huge and luminous in the morning light. And full of shadowed, hopeful surprise. That she didn't expect anyone to back her had an unexpected tenderness and that strange possessiveness once again flowing through him.
"What if I'm used to handling my own problems?" she asked tentatively.
"Independence is nice. But a little help never hurt."
"This will require more than a little help, Cam."
"You've got whatever it takes, darlin'. That's a promise."
No one had ever offered Haley so much, so simply. And genuinely. She didn't fool herself. She could read the steely determination in his gaze and knew he'd decided he was in. He'd never give up. If she didn't come clean, he'd go find out the truth on his own now. But she wanted him in. Wanted to share. The need to cling to him hit her hard. Useless to struggle against it, she decided. It seemed coy to pretend he didn't affect her when he did so very much. She reached for him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, and for the first time, she kissed him.
Hunger and passion, hope and promise—they were all there for the taking. She would have pulled away, stunned by the depth of her feelings, but Cam deepened the kiss. Even as she struggled to hold something back, she became aware that she wouldn't be able to do that for long. Had she ever been needed like this? Wanted like this? Her heart filled, and she just barely managed to rein it in, unbearably close to giving him everything.
"Too fast," she whispered, pulling back. The blood swam in her head. "Way too fast."
"No," he denied, but he stepped away, too, obviously as shaken as she was. "But taking you in my kitchen with my nosy family around isn't my usual style." He cupped her cheek with warm fingers and sent that sweet, irresistible smile her way. "Ready for a ride to the library?"
She smiled a little shakily.
"Good." He squeezed her to his side briefly. "Afterward, when you've gotten what you need, we talk, if I have to tie you down."
She owed him. "Yes," she whispered. "We'll talk."
* * *
The city library was not only a beautiful brick building, but held a surprisingly large selection and a wonderful, efficient staff.
Haley couldn't contain her small, knowing smile when Cam introduced her to Thea.
"Is she the one?" she whispered, when the pretty brunette had walked away to answer a question from another patron.
"Yeah." Cam grinned. "But I was teasing Zach before. He's the one that has a crush on her. She doesn't know he exists."
"Oh, how sad."
Cam laughed. "Don't feel sorry for my big brother, Haley. Women flock to him."
"That's what Nellie said about you."
"Did she, now?" He sent her a look with those sexy, dark eyes. "So how come you don't?"
Thankfully, she was spared having to answer by Thea's return. The librarian gave them an apologetic look. "Sorry, we're busy today. How can I help you?"
"Do you have the Los Angeles Times?" Haley asked.
"Of course. How far back do you need?"
"The past three weeks."
"Well, you're in luck. We just got our computer system up and running again. You can have any date you want. First room down the hall to the left."
Cam followed her, but at the door, Haley stopped and gave him a firm look. "Go find a book to look at," she suggested.
He grinned. "Shh, darlin', we're in a library."
Oh, he was in fine form today. "How about a magazine?"
"They don't carry the kind I like to read."
No matter that she'd promised to tell all, she simply wasn't prepared. "I'm sure there're picture books to entertain you. Try the children's section."
He let out a soft laugh that made her heart flip-flop. She glared at him, but at the look in his melting brown eyes, couldn't maintain it. He hadn't left her, despite the fact that she'd done nothing to earn his trust. He deserved much, much more from her.
She was going to give it. "Cam." She licked her suddenly dry lips. "I discovered something. Something that had much more power than I could ever have dreamed." She spoke the words in a soft rush before she lost her nerve. "Only someone evil got a hold of it and now I'm the only one left alive to tell."
He stared at her for a fraction of time, then moved so fast she could only let out a startled squeak as he hauled her close in a hug that spoke volumes. "God, Haley." He buried his face in her hair, ignoring the soft buzz of the busy library around them. "I thought you'd never tell me."
"You— You knew?"
"Some of it. You were in the paper, darlin'. I've been dividing my time between wanting to shake you silly and kiss you senseless."
"It's … a long story."
"But you'll tell me now. All of it. The entire truth."
"Yes." Having his warm, strong arms banding around her broke all resistance and for a moment, she squeezed tightly, never wanting to let go. "Stay," she whispered. "I want you to. I don't know why I keep pushing you away—"
"Shh." He kissed her once—a soft, tender kiss full of promise. "We've got work to do."
The computer was no problem. She'd mastered them long ago. And on her last job, she'd used one every day. With Cam silent and supportive, sitting next to her, Haley started reading files. She figured the story of Bob, who was well-known in their industry, would be first-section news, maybe second-page. What she didn't figure on was today's paper, and a full-blown picture of Alda on the front page, with a long article beneath the shocking headline.
Prominent Geologist, Alda Jones, Found Dead of Overdose
It got worse, far worse. The next article was on Haley herself. It seemed she was missing. And wanted—for murder.
* * *
Chapter 7
« ^ »
Shock and grief hit Haley as she sat there in the silent library, reading the article about her colleague's death. According to the report, Alda had been missing since the mysterious death of Dr. Bob Herntz. Both deaths were being investigated because of their strange and curious nature. Herntz had died in a car fire, but the autopsy had determined that a blow to the head had come first.
The facts sank in. Alda was well-known for her antidrug position, and yet she'd died of an overdose of a wild assortment of street drugs. The USGS had gone on record to say that although Bob and Alda hadn't worked for them in years, they deeply regretted the loss of two of their most intelligent and well-liked geologists. The police were currently looking for a Dr. Haley Whitfield, the only known connection left to the bombings, the murders, and the missing uranium.
They meant suspect, of course. They thought she had murdered, for her own gain. It filled her with a sense of panic so great, she couldn't breathe. If Alda had been involved, she had paid the ultimate price.
And so would Haley—if she left Colorado. So would Cam and his family, if she came out of hiding and revealed he
rself. She simply couldn't breathe.
"Haley?"
She brought her hands up to her neck, as if that could make her lungs work. Nope, she thought vaguely, not working. She was going to suffocate and die. As her vision grayed, she pictured the headline.
Prominent Geologist, Haley Whitfield, Dies of Self-Suffocation
"Haley?" She felt her chair swivel and then Cam knelt before her, his hands on her arms, his concerned face inches in front of hers. "Christ, Haley. Breathe. You're turning blue. Come on, darlin', breathe." He gave her a light shake, then slipped his hands around her face. "A deep breath, Haley. Come on, give me another one. That's it. Again."
She did, her eyes locked on his as if he were her lifeline. Her hands gripped his on her face as she struggled. Then the strangest thing happened. Once she started breathing, she began to hyperventilate.
Her panic tripled now, every breath coming quicker and quicker, harsher and harsher. Frederick. Danyella. Lloyd. Bob. Alda. All of them, gone. She couldn't control herself, it consumed her—the deep, gasping breaths. And no matter what she did, she couldn't stop. Not even when she hiccuped painfully with each intake. Not even when the tears streamed down her face. She just couldn't stop.
"Haley, Haley." Cam held her face firmly and his eyes never left hers, as he forced her to concentrate. "You're okay," he said in a soothing voice. "Just slow it down. Come on, slow… Good." He wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "You're okay," he said again and again, and when finally she felt in control, she sagged against him, exhausted.
He lifted her and took the now empty chair she'd vacated, holding her close to him on his lap. He scooped the hair off her wet face and managed to come up with a napkin for her to blow her nose. She waited, painfully aware of what a fool she'd just made of herself, yet he remained silent.
The funny thing was—here in the circle of his solid, sure arms, she'd never felt safer. "I'm fine," she said eventually.
"Don't."
Cam hugged her tight and she felt his muscles tremble. "Watching you have that panic attack took ten years off my life." He drew a ragged breath. "I thought I could be patient for the rest. I can't. You've got to tell me what the hell's going on."
"I didn't commit murder."
"You may be able to lie smoothly enough to give me the chills," Cam said roughly, still rocking her. "But I never thought you could kill."
She'd caused those stress lines in his face, the tightness of his jaw. His gaze seemed weighted with worry, concern, and even fear. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and held on to him. "I need out of here."
* * *
Cam didn't push Haley for answers on the long drive back. He parked his truck in front of the ranch house, then turned in the seat to look at her.
"Ever been on a horse?"
That was just about the last possible thing she expected him to say. "A horse?" She cleared her rough throat. "A couple of times. At school once. I knew someone who took me riding. I'm not very good."
He nodded, got out of the truck and came around for her, holding out a hand. "You know, Haley, that's the most you've ever volunteered about yourself." For once, his deep eyes revealed nothing. "Let's go for a ride."
"A ride," she repeatedly stupidly, coming to a stand before him. The day was cool, the sunny sky streaked with light clouds. But her chill came from deep within. Did he really believe she was involved? And if he did, could she blame him? She hadn't exactly been forthcoming with information. "I don't think so."
"Why not?"
She let out a little laugh, then rubbed her temples. Had he forgotten? "I'm tired, Cameron."
"You look it."
The words were brutal, in complete contrast to the absolute kindness of his voice. She snapped her head up to look at him and saw the burning questions and, yes, the basic affection and warmth she'd come to count on. She also saw his frustration. His pain and confusion over the lies. No, he hadn't forgotten.
"I just thought you could use a diversion."
There were a thousand reasons not to. "I'll slow you down."
"I'm not in the mood to race."
"I have—"
"Work?" he interrupted, with a small shake of his head. "Heaven forbid you forget that for even a few minutes." He gave her a ghost of a smile. "You can give up that pretense for now, don't you think?"
The sad thing was, she didn't want to. What she wanted most was to dive into the kitchen and work. "I don't want to."
He just looked at her.
"I want to work." She could panic over this, she realized. What if he wanted her to go, when what she wanted most in the world was to stay?
"We need to talk, Haley."
She studied her shoes. She smelled the aspens. She listened to the grass grow.
"Hel-l-o-o-o."
"I know. It's just that I was kinda hoping to…"
"Put it off?" He shook his head. "You're going to make me mad, Haley."
She rubbed her aching temples.
"Come on. Just a ride. Just you and me and the mountains."
He had her wait while he saddled up the horses. The ranch house sat at the base of a series of rolling hills that in spots still held their lush summer green even though winter was nearly upon them. But most of the tall grass had turned to a dull canvas brown. Soon, snow would fall, but for now, the last of the warm autumn days held. Beyond those hills were the high ridges of the Rockies, pasted against a mottled gray sky.
A perfect day for a ride.
* * *
When he led out the horses, Cam saw that Haley still sat on a large rock by the barn, just where he'd left her. The haunted look hadn't faded from her face.
"Just us," he said easily to her, forcing a calm he didn't feel. If he wasn't calm, there was no way he could get her that way. And that was exactly how he wanted her—relaxed and compliant. She wouldn't talk otherwise.
She stood and ran her hands down the thighs of her jeans. Her eyes had gone wide at seeing the horses. "They're … big."
"Yeah," he said, laughing a little. "Which is why they carry us, not the other way around." He reached for one of her busy, nervous hands. "This big guy here, he's mine. His name is Sal. The lady is Mrs. Twisted. She's Nellie's, which explains the name." He placed her hand on the horse's neck, holding it when she would have flinched away. "She's the sweetest, tamest horse we have, unless Jason's around."
"She doesn't like him?"
He could tell she didn't want to get on any horse, much less a temperamental one. "She's just jealous. You've seen Jason and Nellie."
"Yeah."
He wondered at the flash of emotion he saw. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it was envy. Did she, like him, both admire and wish for what Nellie and Jason had?
"So I just hop on?" she asked.
"Need a hand?" He imagined touching her, helping her up. His hands would brush over her hips, her thighs…
"I can do it," she said quickly, moving past him.
He watched as she pulled herself up with an ease that spoke more of her physical strength than experience. He'd noticed that for a tiny thing, she was tough as nails. And had a tight little body to go with that toughness—one that happened to drive him crazy every time he looked at it.
He got on Sal and they started for the hills. Haley sat naturally in the saddle, which didn't surprise him. She wouldn't like to be less than good at anything. She didn't smile, or even look at him, but then, he hadn't expected her to. Nervousness vibrated from her, and he knew she was thoroughly braced for his barrage of questions.
She'd have to wait.
He had no intention of grilling her. That would get him nowhere with the stubborn woman riding next to him. No, it would take much more finesse to get what he wanted. Though, in truth, he wasn't sure what he wanted from her. The rest of the facts, certainly.
But even that didn't matter so much as banishing the fear from her eyes. The woman was a bundle of contradictions. Seemingly aloof, but really just sh
y. Her domestic "front" was merely a facade for a slick professionalism and a need to succeed at everything she tried. Bravado covered up her almost-desperate need for approval and affection.
Haley pulled Mrs. Twisted to a halt and lifted a shoulder. They'd come to the top of the first hill. "Which way?"
Her dark hair blew against her pale, serious face. He wanted to see her laugh with abandonment, talk with ease. "You pick."
Without another word, she chose the path that would take them past the rolling hills and into the wooded area at the base of the craggy, jutting mountains. The only sound came from their horses' hooves pounding the dirt.
"It's beautiful here," Haley said, speaking for the first time in long minutes. She ducked beneath the low branch of an aspen. "I hear water running."
"There's a creek. There're also some cliffs a mile or so ahead. Jas, Zach and I camped there overnight once."
"You must have played here a lot as a boy."
He brought Sal alongside Mrs. Twisted. "No. I grew up in Denver, I only bought the Circle C several years ago."
"Oh. I thought— Never mind."
She'd turned away, embarrassed, and shifted in her saddle. "You'd thought what?" he pressed. "It's okay to ask me, Haley. Contrary to some people I know, my life's an open book."
She flashed him that haughty, annoyed look, but said nothing, not even when he lifted his brow and silently dared her.
They came out of the woods into a clearing. The creek ran noisily through, rushing past rocks and boulders. "This is my favorite spot. I came here a lot when I first bought the house." He glanced at her. "I bought it after Lorraine died. I wanted to change my life-style. Completely. I dumped the suits, quit the job." He looked around at the beautiful woods he considered his. "I had no intention of really running the ranch, I just wanted to … disappear, I guess."
He saw a flash of surprise light her face. "I can understand that," she said softly.
"I thought maybe you would."
She dismounted and so did he. The horses turned to the spots of green at their hooves, looking for something to graze on.