by Diana Palmer
“Okay,” Brannon told the smaller man after a minute. “That’s all I wanted. Thanks, Bartlett. I won’t forget this.”
“If Marsh finds out…!”
Brannon’s fist shot out so fast that Josette never saw it until Bartlett’s head rocked back and he was holding his jaw and grimacing. She gasped out loud, but the little man only grinned.
“You can show that to the guys inside,” Brannon said pleasantly, and smiled as he nodded toward the closed door of the billiard parlor, “and tell them that I was questioning you about Dunn’s close call.”
Bartlett laughed through the pain. “Thanks, Brannon. You’re all right.” He paused. “Just by the by, who did try to run Dunn down? Do you know?”
“No, I don’t know. But Judd says he does, sadly for the perpetrator,” he added with a chuckle. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He smiled, but it was a shaky sort of smile. He walked past Brannon gingerly, and went quickly back into the billiard parlor.
“Sandra Gates,” Josette said as soon as the door closed behind the small man. “She’s blonde, she doesn’t hesitate to do illegal things, there was an expensive mint in her trailer, she knows Marsh and she was probably Dale’s mysterious girlfriend. She could have been blackmailed by Marsh to help him get the evidence. It all fits!”
“It seems to,” he agreed. “But if she’s got a husband, he’s well hidden, and she doesn’t live like a rich wife. There’s something else not quite right.”
“What?”
Brannon shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know,” he said irritably. “I can’t get it in focus.” He glanced at her and smiled. “I’m tired. So are you.” He hesitated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to take you back to your hotel instead of my apartment. We’ll both have a good night’s sleep, and then in the morning, we’ll try to put it all together.”
“Spoilsport.”
He gave her a long look. “Torture is supposed to be against the law,” he reminded her with a wicked grin. Josette hesitated.
“I’ll bring your things by the hotel tomorrow. If you need me, I’m as close as the phone,” he continued when she was trying to think of a way to tell him something he didn’t know yet.
It probably was a good idea to let things cool down, she decided finally. For a day or so, anyway. “Okay,” she agreed. She gave him a mischievous look. “If you’re through throwing punches at people for the night.”
He helped her into the SUV and drove her back to the hotel. “I just noticed something. You’re not wearing the sling tonight,” he noted.
Josette flexed her arm. “The wound isn’t all that bad. I hate the sling. It gets in my way.”
“If you see any redness, or feel any heat in it…”
“I have a good brain,” she pointed out.
He just looked at her.
“I’ll keep an eye on it,” she said with resignation. “Thanks for the crepes.”
“You’re welcome. I like them myself.” Brannon tugged at the nape of her neck. “Come here and kiss me good-night,” he murmured in a deep, soft tone that made her tingle all over.
She laughed with delicious anticipation as she leaned toward him. “Want me to read you a story, too?” she whispered.
He smiled as he bent to her mouth. “Sure. How about a nice Agatha Christie murder mystery?”
“We’ve got a murder of our own to solve. That would be redundant.”
Brannon drew her mouth under his and kissed her softly, nibbling on her upper lip until it parted on a husky little sigh.
“I think this is going to be habit-forming,” he murmured.
“Do you?”
He drew her closer, wrapping her up in his arms. “Are you sure you want to go back to Austin?” he persisted, and kissed her insistently.
Her whole body went up in flames from the devouring pressure of his warm, hard mouth. She reached up to hold him while she returned the kiss with more enthusiasm than expertise. He didn’t seem to mind.
His lips slid across her smooth cheek to her ear. “San Antonio has a lot to offer,” he whispered. “A symphony, a ballet, an opera company…”
Josette touched his mouth with light, caressing fingertips. She didn’t know how to answer him, what to say, what to think. He’d been actively hostile back in Austin, but here he was cooking her crepes and kissing her with such tenderness. Just the thought of not having him in her life after this case was depressing. Her eyes mirrored her troubled thoughts.
Brannon made a sound deep in his throat and kissed her again. This time she clung to him as if he was going to his death. She whimpered as the kiss grew more insistent, more ardent. She felt his hand between them, unfastening buttons again. And then it was there, there, inside her blouse, against her bare skin. She sobbed as he touched her with slow, hungry possession, the palm of his big hand warm against the hard, sensitive nipple…
The sound of a car approaching made him lift his head. He looked dazed. His pale eyes went to his hand inside her blouse and his teeth ground together as he withdrew it and rebuttoned the buttons.
“Oh, damn!” she said, and so plaintively that he laughed.
“It’s just as well,” Brannon said with resignation. “Under the circumstances.”
She swallowed. “Actually…well, you could…come upstairs with me,” she managed in a strangled tone.
“And do what, Josie?” he asked in a tormented voice. “It’s not possible…”
“I had it two years ago,” she blurted out.
He frowned. “You had what two years ago?”
She cleared her throat and looked at his chest. His heartbeat, quick and hard, was visible against his shirt. She pressed her nervous hands into the warm fabric. “That…minor surgery,” she confessed.
He was very still, and more than a little aroused. His mind wasn’t working. He just stared at her, trying to regain his composure.
“Two…years ago?” he whispered.
She nodded. Her fingers traced around the star on his pocket. “I thought…you left because I…couldn’t,” she said in a strangled tone. “So I had the procedure.” Her eyes closed in pain. “But you didn’t come back. You didn’t call, you didn’t write…I even went to the Webbs’ party because I thought you’d be there, and I could tell you…” Her voice trailed off.
“Oh, baby,” Brannon whispered huskily. He pulled her close and held her tight, tight, against him. “Baby, I’m so sorry! I was too ashamed to come back.”
“Ashamed?” she asked blankly.
His big, lean hands spread tenderly over her back as his face pressed into her warm throat. “When I knew what you were, how innocent you were…I wanted to come back. But you looked at me in the courtroom at Jennings’s trial with pure hatred in your eyes. After that…” He sighed. “I just got out of town and tried to forget everything.”
“I was young and helpless when I was fifteen,” she said gently. “I’m not now. You didn’t know the truth, Marc. You didn’t know. It’s all right. I didn’t blame you half as much as you’ve blamed yourself. You’re just human.”
His arms contracted until the embrace was almost painful. “I should never have left you,” he breathed, searching for her mouth. “Never in this life…!”
Josette smiled under the hard, rough crush of his lips, feeling the lack of control, the passion that he usually kept under such strict control. He wanted her so badly that he couldn’t even contain it. That was flattering, that honest desire. Perhaps it wasn’t what she really wanted, but living a lonely, sad life without him seemed worse.
When he stopped to breathe, her lips slid to his ear. “You can come up with me,” she whispered, giving in to him without a struggle. After their passionate interlude in his apartment, she was on fire for him.
Brannon didn’t answer her. His hands made a leisurely trip up and down her spine and he savored the soft feel of her body against him, the faint scent of roses that clung to her smooth skin.
“No,” he said finally.
Josette hadn’t expected that answer. She frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not willing to reduce what I feel for you to thirty minutes in a bed.”
Her heart lifted. She’d been so certain that he’d take her up on it, that he’d jump at the chance to be intimate with her.
She drew back, trying to see his face.
He caught one of the small hands on his shirt and lifted it, palm-first, to his lips. “And you’re not willing to do that, either,” he said with conviction, staring her down. “Josie, if seduction was all I’d had in mind, I wouldn’t have needed to learn how to make meat loaf and crepes,” he pointed out with a wry smile. He kissed her palm again. “You’ll never know how I felt when I saw you in the hall outside Simon’s office in Austin. Pretending that I was indifferent was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I thought you hated me!” she whispered.
“I hated myself. In some ways, I still do.” He kissed her eyelids closed and his tongue ran softly over her long lashes. “It’s been torture having you in the same office with Grier.”
“But why?”
“You’re the sort of woman he’s drawn to.” His eyes slid over her delicate features. “You have a quality of tenderness that’s very rare.”
She touched his hard mouth. “So do you,” she whispered.
Brannon drew in a long, heavy breath, and his lean fingers touched the small bandage that remained on her wounded arm. “I’ve got to do a better job of looking after you.”
She smiled. “I can look after myself, usually. But if you want to take care of me, I get to take care of you, too.”
The expression made his breath catch. He studied her hungrily. He thought of her in his life, of waking up to her every morning, of carrying her to bed with him every night. He thought of her on the ranch, helping him with routine chores, riding with him, helping feed the occasional stray calf. He’d have someone of his very own, to share the good and bad times with; someone to talk to, someone to comfort him; someone to comfort. And in addition to all that, he’d have her in his bed… It made him ache.
“Deep thoughts?” Josette murmured, tracing his thick eyebrows.
“Very deep.” He frowned. “Where are your glasses?”
She grinned. “I can see you.”
“Me, but nobody else,” he said quietly. “Wear them. You can’t look out for what you can’t see. And don’t bother trying to convince me you’ve got contacts in,” he added when she started to speak. “You haven’t.”
Josette sighed. “Okay. I’ll wear them. I just don’t like the way I look.”
“I do. Glasses make your big, dark eyes look even bigger,” he said softly, smiling. “And sexier, if you want the truth.”
“I’ll rush right out tomorrow and buy three new pairs,” she promised.
Brannon traced her nose, watching her with an odd sense of contentment. “Lock your door.”
“Why? Are you planning to kick it down and ravish me?” she teased.
“Don’t give me any ideas,” he cautioned. “I’m still aroused.”
Her full, swollen lips pursed. “Well, well,” she whispered, and started moving closer.
His hands stopped her. “The SUV would bounce,” he said deadpan. “People would notice. The police would come. They’d probably send Grier. You have no idea what he’s capable of, and let me just mention television cameras and at least one local broadcast news reporter who’s terrified of him and would do whatever he asked…”
Josette burst out laughing and gave up. “All right, I quit. You’re just brutally vivid, aren’t you?”
“I’m a Texas Ranger,” he pointed out. “See this?” he indicated the silver star in its circle. “Vivid description is part of the job.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I get the message, loud and clear.”
Brannon kissed her one last time. “Make sure you stay locked up tight.”
“I will,” she replied, opening the door. “But I’d like to know you’re locked up tight, too.” She glanced back worriedly. “Those men who jumped you,” she began. “What if they come back?”
“See this?” he asked, his hand on the butt of his Colt .45.
She threw up her hands. “Be careful, anyway.” She pointed at her heart. “See this?” she tossed back at him. “If anything happens to you, it stops beating.”
He smiled tenderly. “I think I knew that already, but it’s nice to know for sure. I’ll avoid bullets. Good night, sweetheart,” he added softly.
Her heart jumped. “Good night, Marc,” she replied, equally softly and blew him a kiss before she went into the building. Even then, she stood at the door and watched him drive away. He watched her until he turned into the street. After that, going upstairs was agony.
But she was no sooner in her room than the phone rang. She picked it up. “Miss Langley?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Holliman,” the old man said. “I been thinking about what you said, about that something or other that my nephew had. I may have an idea. Could you and the Ranger come out here in the morning? No rush. I’d just like to throw a couple of ideas your way, and not over the telephone. It’s making some odd noises lately.”
“Certainly. We’ll see you in the morning,” she said and hung up. Odd noises, huh? She wouldn’t have put it past Marsh or one of his cronies to bug old man Holliman’s telephone.
Finally, she thought, they were getting enough breaks to solve the case. Whoever was responsible for Mrs. Jennings’s death could look forward to a long jail sentence, with no hope of being conveniently transferred to a low-security facility.
She hoped Brannon would be as pleased as she was when she told him what was going on the next day.
She slept fitfully, excited about the hopeful new day and a solution to the case.
But if she’d hoped to sleep late, she was doomed to disappointment. The phone rang at 5:00 a.m.
“Hello?” she murmured sleepily.
“San Antonio district attorney’s office,” a deep, masculine voice replied. “We need to know your schedule for today.”
Josette sat up, instantly alert. “Why?” she asked at once.
There was a slight pause. “We don’t want to duplicate efforts. We think we’ve got a break in the Jennings case.”
She almost, almost, spilled her guts. But there was something that didn’t ring true about the call. For one thing, she didn’t recognize the voice, and she’d learned to recognize most of them in the local office by now. For another, they wouldn’t need to know her schedule. They didn’t work that way.
“Well,” she said, yawning deliberately, “first I’m going to sleep until eight-thirty, and then Brannon wants me to pick up a witness and get her to go through some mug shots at your office.”
There was another pause. “Why?”
“Oh, we think we’ve got something on the local mob boss,” she drawled, wishing she could see the man on the other end. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get there.”
The line went dead.
She immediately phoned Brannon.
“It’s five o’clock in the morning!” he exclaimed when he picked up the receiver, without even asking who it was. “So help me, Grier, if this is you, I’ll use you for target practice!”
“It isn’t Grier,” she murmured softly. “Hi.”
There was an indrawn breath. “Josie?” It sounded as if he sat up abruptly. “What is it? Are you all right?”
That concern made her feel warm inside. “I’m fine,” she said. “I just had a very interesting call from someone pretending to be in the district attorney’s office. They wanted to know my schedule for the day. I’m just guessing, mind you, but I think we’re stepping on some sensitive toes. Wouldn’t surprise me if we were actually followed.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t surprise me, either. Want to come out and play follow the leader?”
She chuck
led. “I’d love to, if you feed me first. I’m starving, and I want coffee.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Same here. There’s a nice little doughnut shop near my apartment, and no wisecracks!” he added before she could rise to the bait. “I’ll run over there and pick you up. Ten minutes.”
Brannon hung up before she could tell him that she couldn’t possibly get dressed in less than twenty. But she made it in ten, anyway.
His pale eyes approved of her peach-colored suit and cream-colored blouse, especially since her hair was loose around her shoulders. It was a losing battle to keep hairpins, since he pocketed hers.
“Sexy,” he remarked with pursed lips as he climbed into the SUV beside her. “I’m glad we’re not having breakfast with Grier.”
“I run into that a lot,” Josette said in mock seriousness, nodding.
“Into what?”
“Oh, men who covet my suits,” she remarked with a wicked glance. “But can you really picture Grier in this shade of pink?” She spread her arms.
He burst out laughing. “I’ve missed you.”
“Good.”
He glanced at her. “You’re not going back to Austin when we solve this case,” he told her flatly.
Her eyebrows arched. “I have a job there.”
“You can get a job here,” Brannon said easily. “We can share cooking and cleaning and laundry. On the weekends, we can see movies, if it’s a month with five weeks.” He sighed. “Sometimes money gets tight, especially with winter heating bills.” He gave her a slow grin. “Of course, we can save money on heat by sleeping together.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Sleep with you?” Her voice sounded odd.
“Oh, it would be strictly platonic,” he said carelessly. “You can wear a gown and robe, and I’ll wear thick pajamas. I’ll never touch you at all. We can live together and be good friends.” He smiled slowly. “I’ll give you my word as a Girl Scout.”
Josette was looking at him as if she feared for his sanity, until that last remark, when he glanced her way with positively wicked silver eyes.
She burst out laughing.