by Barb Han
He pushed the covers aside and moved to the spot next to her. She rolled over and curled her body around his left side. Flat on his back, she nestled into the crook of his arm and rested her head on his chest.
Freezing up when a woman shared a bed with him was foreign to Holden, but then he’d never been in this circumstance before. In the past, a warm body beside him, hell, curled around him, meant two consenting adults who equally wanted to be there. Expectations were clear on both sides: great sex. This was not the same. The water was muddy with Ella. She wanted to be home, not there with him, but had to stay away in order to live.
Holden could hear her breathing and almost convinced himself that she was asleep until her eyes slowly opened and she looked up at him. That’s all it took for him to do what he knew he shouldn’t. He dipped his head down and claimed her mouth. Her lips parted and he delved his tongue inside, tasting her sweet honey. Her tongue teased him and she sucked on his bottom lip before gently biting. Need stirred from deep within. He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her tight against his chest. Her body fitted his, melding against him perfectly, and he could hear her breathing quicken.
Her hands were on his chest, her fingertips sliding along the ridges of muscles there. It would be so easy to let go with her...
Karen popped into his thoughts. Her lifeless body lying in the bed they’d shared the night before, and his eyes shot open as he pushed up to his elbows. Ella was still partially tangled up with him so she repositioned, curling her legs around his midsection and balancing by digging her hands into his shoulders rather than spill off his lap.
“Not a good idea” was all he could manage to say.
Face-to-face, her minty toothpaste washed over him with every quick breath. She had that all-too-familiar hungry look in her eyes.
“Really, Holden?” she asked.
“This is getting out of hand,” he said through ragged breaths. His body argued that a night of hot sex with Ella—and he was pretty damn certain it would rock his world—would be all he needed to get past his attraction to her and move on so he could focus on what was important: saving her life. And he could almost convince himself that once the mystery was gone, it would somehow become easier to be around her without so much sexual chemistry firing between them, distracting him. But that logic was as smart as pouring gasoline onto a forest fire and expecting to curb the flames. Laws of physics dictated a raging inferno.
“I’m confused,” Ella said, and he could see the emotion in her eyes—eyes that were so expressive she was easy to read.
For lack of a real answer, he said, “So am I.”
She crawled off his lap and curled onto her side again, hugging the edge of the bed. He mumbled another apology but she didn’t respond. He repositioned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He might be the dumbest man alive because not having sex with Ella wasn’t exactly stopping him from thinking about the soft curve of her hips when they’d pressed against him. Nor did the intensity of their chemistry ease. Being with her was like sleeping with fireworks under the blanket.
Holden sighed harshly. If only he hadn’t gone jogging at five that morning twenty-five months ago. Karen would be alive and so would his father.
By the time sunlight peeked through the blinds, he heard Rose padding down the hall toward the kitchen. Ella was still asleep based on her even breathing and he didn’t want to wake her, so he peeled off the covers and slipped out of bed.
Rose was in the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee brewing that he smelled from the bathroom where he stood at the sink brushing his teeth. His thoughts had bounced around last night. Most of them entailed how sweet Ella’s silky skin felt against his body. The silhouette of her sweet round bottom had broken his concentration more than once. He dozed off in fits and starts because something was trying to break through. Something was bugging him. And he couldn’t pinpoint what that something was. It was frustrating the hell out of him. He’d lost perspective and he needed to talk about it. He hoped a strong cup of coffee could clear his head.
“Morning,” he said to Rose as he walked into the kitchen.
She nodded and caught his eye. “I haven’t seen you this twisted up since you were in the eighth grade and that girl—what was her name? Tara—went off with your friend because she was convinced you didn’t like her. And you did like her. But once you realized your friend did, too, you knew that you could never ask her out.”
If only his problems could be that simple again, deciding between a hot girl and loyalty to his best friend. Holden had made the obvious choice—loyalty. But it had felt like a huge sacrifice at the time.
“I was awake chewing on something all night,” he said. He could talk the basics of the case through without giving exact details or violating Ella’s trust. “In a murder case, investigators always look to the people closest to the victim, to their inner circle, and work outward from there.”
“True,” she said, and she would know because her father had spent his entire life working for the Santa Fe Police Department. “Tell me more about this person’s family. What are they like?”
“I couldn’t say, personally. They seem to care for each other on the surface. There are twin brothers and a younger sister in this situation.” He appreciated Rose going along with him without asking if they were talking about Ella.
“Does this have anything to do with what you’re going through?” Rose studied him before taking a sip of coffee.
“No. This is different,” he clarified. “There’s no tie. This person’s siblings seem to care. Both of her brothers had wanted to drop what they were doing and come to her but she’d convinced them that it would be too risky. They might lead the men targeting her right to her. Her sister shared a similar sentiment.”
“So, let’s rule out the immediate family,” she said. “You’ve no doubt considered who stands to gain from her death.”
“That’s where things get complicated. Her father is wealthy. He was recently murdered and an attempt was made on her life almost immediately after,” he said.
“She was the only one targeted out of four children?” A gray eyebrow hiked.
“The others left as soon as news of their father’s death broke. She stayed to run the ranch,” he supplied, holding back the fact that her father hadn’t been gone for a whole week when she’d been attacked.
“All the siblings are out of town and that’s not a convenient excuse?” she asked.
“I don’t believe so.”
“And that’s where everything gets confusing, isn’t it?” She picked up the spoon on the table and stirred her coffee absently. Rose always did that when she didn’t have a good answer. There was so much comfort in knowing someone well enough to know their little quirks.
Holden had been away from civilization far too long. On balance, he had to consider if he was really living at all or just existing. Hiding. He raked a hand over his shaved chin, half expecting his beard to still be there and feeling nothing but exposed skin.
“Let’s circle back then, to the actual attempt on the victim,” Rose said. “What were the circumstances?”
“A rock was thrown at her head and she was left to die while hiking alone,” he supplied.
Rose’s eyes lit up. “That tells me whoever did this wanted to make it look like an accident, so they have something to lose. It could be more than just status in the community.”
“I thought that, too, until she was shot at on the way to the sheriff’s office to give a statement a couple of days later,” he said.
“Killer might’ve been expecting that. He goes back for the body where she was hiking. Doesn’t find one, so he camps around the sheriff’s office, figuring she might’ve gotten a good enough look at him to give a description,” she said. “She shows and he figures he has to take her out. He’s afraid to leave a possible witness.”
“Good p
oints.” Holden reached for his beard again. Halfway there he realized he’d shaved and stopped as he held out his hand awkwardly in midair. “I suspect you’re right and this person wants to keep his place in the community.”
* * *
ELLA STRETCHED SORE muscles and pain rifled through her thigh. Her hand shot to the spot as she grimaced and blew out a breath. Contact was a bad idea even though all she touched was gauze and tape.
There’d most likely be some pain relievers in the kitchen and, more important, caffeine. More movement was going to hurt. Time to suck it up, buttercup.
Forcing herself to move her legs against all the resistance her body was giving seemed like the worst of bad ideas. Movement took every bit of effort inside her. Ella cursed under her breath and repeated the word a few more times as she pushed off the bed. Brushing her teeth was the first respite she had from the stabbing pain as she leaned her weight against the counter. Even her hip was sore. And all that screaming pain distracted her from the monster-sized headache raging between her temples.
After turning off the water, she heard the low hum of Holden’s voice coming from the kitchen, and awareness trilled through her and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She’d practically thrown herself at him last night and he’d stopped abruptly. She’d blame the entire episode on herself except that she’d seen that momentary flash of terror in his eyes that he tucked so masterfully behind that steel-jawed facade before rejecting her. She’d be angry with him for the rejection—and part of her was—but he’d said the last person he’d cared about ended up dead because of him, and she sensed that he couldn’t go there with her and especially not under the circumstances.
He was right, though. Her life was complicated enough right now without adding to the confusion with a romantic entanglement with the man keeping her alive. Emotions were heightened. She needed to focus on being grateful to him and nothing more.
That’s as far as she planned to allow her feelings for Holden Crawford to go.
Hopefully she’d be able to stick to her plan.
Chapter Nine
“We’re leaving today. We’ll pack up after breakfast,” Holden said to Ella as she entered the kitchen. He barely glanced up.
“What’s the rush?” Rose stood and moved toward the counter with the coffee maker. She looked to Ella when she said, “Have a seat. I’ll get a cup for you.”
Ella thanked her and sat next to Holden. The sexual chemistry between them zinged as intensely as ever and her stomach gave a little flip when her knee touched his thigh.
She must’ve also winced with movement when she sat because Holden stopped what he was doing and said, “You’re in pain.”
“A little,” she admitted.
“I have something for that. I’ll make something to eat first,” Rose said, handing over a fresh mug. “Doc is always warning me about taking ibuprofen on an empty stomach.”
“Thank you.” Ella stared into the brown liquid before taking a sip. Anything to take the focus off how she felt whenever Holden was near and the assortment of aches and pains her body had racked up. She took a sip, enjoying the burn. “This is so good.”
The breakfast burritos were equally wonderful.
“I have a few errands to run in town this morning,” Rose said. “Can I pick up anything for you?”
Holden’s gaze flicked up and held. “Do me a favor?”
She nodded. “Anything.”
“Don’t mention having houseguests.” The concerned look on his face seemed to resonate with the older woman.
“Not a problem,” she said before grabbing her keys off the counter and her purse off a hook positioned near the back door. “I’ll only be a couple of hours. Will you be here when I return?”
“Yes,” he said.
Relief washed over Ella as the older woman smiled and disappeared through the door. No way would she want to put Rose in danger but she had hoped they could stick around a few days. Being near her, in her calm presence, was comforting. Since Holden had already said they were leaving today, she sipped her coffee and tried not to think about having to get on the back of the motorcycle again.
“She’ll be safe, right?” she asked Holden as he studied a laptop screen.
“As long as no one figures out we’ve been here, she will be,” he said. “And I have every intention of ensuring that she is.”
Shock reverberated through Ella as reality once again bore down on her. They were both on the run from dangerous men.
“Where do we go next?” she asked.
“That depends on how your leg’s doing and how close the sheriff is to figuring this out.” He didn’t look up and she took it as a sign that he didn’t want to talk.
The physical presence of him was difficult to ignore. He was big and imposing. And sexy, a little voice decided to add. It was an annoying little voice, like a fly at a picnic, buzzing around her face. She squashed that bug immediately. Holden Crawford was complicated. Danger practically radiated from his muscled biceps.
She drained her mug and pushed to standing, wincing as she tried to regain her balance, not yet steady on her feet.
“Don’t do that,” he said, rising to catch her. She had no intention of falling, pain or not.
“My leg is just sore. I need to walk it off,” she defended, motioning toward her thigh.
“Mind if I take a look?” His gaze was on her now. The intensity of those honest blue eyes released a thousand butterflies in her stomach. Her throat felt like she’d downed a bottle of glue and her upper lip stuck to her top row of teeth when she managed a weak attempt at a smile. “Okay.”
Ella took a seat again and showed him the injury.
Holden set up a few supplies, wipes and antibiotic ointment on the table next to her. She could’ve sworn he took in a sharp breath and muttered something that sounded like a swear word before he dropped to his knees in front of her.
She flexed her fingers when she thought about how deep the ridges in his shoulders were and how thick that dark hair of his was. Focusing her attention on the investigation would hopefully diffuse some of the sexual tension pinging thickly between them.
“We can’t rule anyone out other than my siblings until we hear my father’s will,” she said.
“I have to consider everyone.” His gaze was focused on the tape as he made a move to tear at one of the corners.
“So, what? The entire town is suspect? We’ll never figure out who’s responsible at this rate. We haven’t ruled anyone out in your opinion, and I have no chance of going home anytime soon.” She was frustrated and taking it out on him. In part because she needed to keep herself from thinking about doing other things to him. She clasped her hands and forced them on her lap. Thoughts of missing her father, of missing her family and of missing home struck a hole in her chest.
Holden tugged at the medical tape. A patch of skin pulled up along the tear line. As light as the touch might’ve been, she could’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning for the effect it had on her skin. A trail scorched from contact and her entire thigh warmed and zinged with awareness. Other places did, too, but she was determined not to think about those.
“Does this hurt?” His gaze flicked up to hers.
“That? No.” There was so much going on inside her emotionally that the pain in her leg barely registered. She was having a difficult enough time fighting the barrage of tears threatening. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess spanning everything from his rejection to how much she wished life could go back to the way it was two weeks ago.
“Not the whole town, just people who would benefit from you disappearing.” Holden went back to work.
“Like the people who work for us?” she asked.
“If they fit the bill. I was thinking more along the lines of projects you’re involved in that impact other people.” He dabbed antibiotic ointment along
the gash, which looked like a crack in her skin.
“Ranch business impacts a lot of people, provides a lot of jobs directly and indirectly,” she said.
“Any vendors who’ve been cut out of the pie recently?” He took scissors to a gauze pad, cutting it down to fit her wound.
“No. We’ve been doing business with most of our suppliers for years. Many are second-or third-generation owners.” Thinking hurt. “We pay all our bills on time.”
Ella must’ve made a face because he froze.
“Did that hurt?” He lifted the bandage slowly.
“No.”
“I know you’re upset and that’s partly my fault. I let things get too far last night and I regret it,” he started.
“Don’t give me a speech about how there’s nothing wrong with me. That you’re just not attracted to my type,” she quipped with more anger than she’d intended. “I’m sure you haven’t been with a woman in a long time since you’ve been on the run.”
His gaze locked onto hers.
“For your information, there’ve been plenty of women since I’ve been off the grid, just none that I could really care about. That doesn’t happen often for me,” he said, the intensity of his gaze washing over her like a rogue wave.
“Really? Maybe it’s your magnetic personality,” she bit out sarcastically, still fuming.
“Probably.” He leaned back on his heels and placed his hands on his massive thighs, elbows out. “But the last person I cared about was killed by the men tracking me and I’m no closer to figuring out why now than I was two years ago. My father was also killed before I could get to him, which you already know but those thoughts keep rewinding inside my head.”
His words sucked the wind out of her and all she could manage to say was, “Oh.”
“So, yeah, I don’t want to care about you and I’m frustrated because you’re smart and beautiful with a body made for sinning on Sundays but none of that matters.” His gaze was searing her skin as his eyes traveled her body. “Because if I allow myself to get soft enough to actually care what happens to you beyond blind loyalty to your father, you might end up dead, too. And I can’t do that to another person. Not again. I wouldn’t survive. There’s enough blood on my hands.”