Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  “Oh. I’m so sorry—”

  He waved his hand, cut off her words. “Skip the sentiment. It didn’t matter in the end. But that one night I remember noises, like shots being fired. And he came flying back to the car, and we took off with tires squealing.

  “He refused to talk about what had happened. A few days later I saw a newspaper headline that said a man and his wife had been killed by an intruder at that same address in Gallup.”

  “So you think he went there to rob them?”

  “Not at all. I think the husband came in and caught my old man in bed with his wife. The guy probably shot the woman in anger, but then my father shot him. That’s what makes the most sense.”

  “How old were you then?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “So young to know such awful things.”

  There had been worse, he mused. Things he had seen right in his own home.

  “Not all of us had two parents who were loving and protective,” he said before he thought about it.

  Bailey reared back as though he’d slapped her face. But instead of saying anything, she wrapped her arms around herself and put her chin on her knees.

  He would’ve said he was sorry, but what for? Pointing out that she had been lucky, but never appreciated it?

  “So why a cop?” she finally asked.

  “Justice,” he said simply. “Someone needs to uphold the law and traditions. I want to be the one.

  “That’s partially why I joined the Brotherhood,” he continued. “I like things when they are in harmony, the way they’re supposed to be. I’m willing to work hard and take risks to set things on the right path.”

  Time to change the subject. He turned the conversation back to her. “So how’d you end up in rehab?”

  She lifted her chin and stared him down. “I went when I was so sick there was no other choice.”

  “But why did you let yourself get to such a state?”

  “All my parents ever expected from me was to find happiness,” she began, her voice hoarse. “They gave me every advantage and loved me beyond measure. But I didn’t…don’t have the foggiest idea how to capture that elusive happiness. I’ve tried school, business, skiing, yacht racing, gambling, lots of other stuff. But none of it gave me a real reason to get up in the morning.

  “I’d thought,” she added slowly, “for a few moments back in college, that you were the answer to all my problems.”

  “Me?”

  “I was really happy with you.” She gave a self-depreciating chuckle. “I jumped out of bed every morning and couldn’t wait until I got to see you again.”

  “Bailey…” His own voice deserted him.

  “I know now that’s unreasonable. That no other person can make you happy,” she added. “But it really hurt when you didn’t seem to feel the same way I did. Nothing had ever hurt me quite like that before. All my life, people always loved me. I didn’t understand that not everyone automatically would.”

  He had hurt her? The idea was incongruous, so different from what he had always believed, that he couldn’t get his mind around it.

  Just like that, Hunter’s entire world tilted somehow. Ease and loss of control both suddenly became unimportant.

  “Did you ever find someone to love?” she asked before he got his bearings. “Are you married? Any kids?”

  It grew much too warm in the cave. The fire leaped and crackled between them. Hunter shrugged out of his jacket, but felt as if he were burning alive. So he pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his moccasins.

  Naked from the waist up, he finally felt as if he wasn’t suffocating, as if he wasn’t about to swallow his own tongue. “There have been a few women in and out of my life since college,” he managed to answer. “But I never married. No children. Don’t think I’d be very good at being a dad.”

  Bailey swept her eyes up and down his torso. “It’s hot in here all of a sudden, isn’t it?” She took off the jacket and folded it. “I sure wish I could take a shower.” She grimaced. “I feel gritty, grimy.” Rubbing her legs with her hands, she seemed embarrassed and irritated at her filthy condition.

  Hunter moved to her side, picked up sand and ashes and mixed them in his palms. “Maybe I’ve spent too much time alone in the wilderness,” he said. “But a little earth and sweat only seem sensual. Our ancestors used a combination of warm ash and desert sand as soap. Here, let me show you how it works.” He swiped the back of his hand across his own sweaty brow, wiping away wetness so he could see, and then picked up one of her feet. Flipping off her shoe, he briskly rubbed her long leg.

  Her soft gasp when he touched the back of her knee finally slowed him down. He looked into her large, liquid eyes and his heart jerked. His blood began churning with primal, primitive lust. His skin felt as if it dripped with a savage longing so strong he had to clench his teeth to keep from acting on it immediately.

  Excitement snapped in the air between them, but neither of them moved. Afraid of losing his head completely, Hunter tried to fight the overpowering hunger that threatened to consume every oxygen molecule in the cave.

  “You have a streak of ash across your forehead,” she said in a whisper, breaking the tension, yet somehow managing to stir it further. “Like an ancient warrior. It’s…sexy.”

  Suddenly she was panting as though she’d been running a marathon. The expression she wore was raw, needy. Her gaze fixed on his mouth. Reaching toward the edge of the fire pit, she, too, picked up a handful of ash, but her eyes stayed trained on his face.

  “You need a few more slashes of color. Here…” She gently swiped her thumbs across his cheekbones. “And here…” Her fingers drew a dark mark down the center of his chest to his waistband.

  Her touch was both heady and intoxicating, and Hunter was doomed in that instant.

  “And you, too…” He reached over and brushed aside the shredded rags that had been covering her breasts, leaving her exposed to both his gaze and his touch.

  Picking up another fistful of warm ash, Hunter dribbled it in the center of her breastbone. Then he circled her nipples with his thumbs, leaving black lines that resembled bull’s-eyes. Her body became a tender target that beckoned his fingers to hit their satin mark.

  Bailey reached out and fumbled with the zipper on his pants, silently calling to him with her eyes. Hunger ignited, deep and low, in some hidden, basic place.

  Without a word he moved closer, slid his hand around to cup the back of her neck and allowed his mouth to crush hers in an incendiary kiss. It wasn’t soft and tender—or even civilized.

  He wanted to possess her. Beyond reason. With need both savage and feral. So, as never before, he took what his body demanded.

  The punch of heat from Hunter’s kiss made Bailey’s heart jump. She plunged her tongue inside his waiting mouth, pressed her breasts against his chest and shoved at the dark suede pants encasing what she craved to touch.

  Purring when she discovered he wasn’t wearing underwear, Bailey all at once wanted everything. Her savage warrior had gone commando, and the knowledge made her blood sizzle and her brain fry.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, then down his biceps. His body was wider, tougher than she remembered. All those nights she’d ached for his touch, sighed for just one glimpse of that damn grin, and now he was here, tasting ripe and strong, like the earth itself. Her brain couldn’t keep up, and she didn’t care a bit.

  Their bodies were slick with sweat, and all around them the air they breathed was heated and feverishly erotic. She freed and then caressed his arousal. Instinctively she fisted her hand around him and drew him upward.

  Bailey didn’t want slow and easy, nor tender and gentle, as their lovemaking had been in the past. Hunter’s muscular and toned body staggered her senses. His masculine scent was addictive and heady.

  She pulled out of his arms long enough to shove her panties down and kick them free. Hunter leaned back and watched her.

  Straddling him where h
e sat, she ran her hands into his hair. He captured a nipple in his mouth, and some kind of ancient hunger moved through her, igniting a fierce female frenzy.

  She lowered herself to where the tip of his body met the waiting warmth of her own. He stared up into her eyes with a look that was both crazily familiar and peppered with a stranger’s need.

  Hunter didn’t hesitate. When he saw his feelings reflected in Bailey’s eyes, he thrust forward to where he longed to be. She hooked her legs around his waist and gasped as he drove as far as he could go.

  He took possession of her mouth and found her wild and edgy, grinding her hips restlessly into his groin. His fingers snagged in her hair; his lungs constricted. Her taste was potent and salty, carnal. He wanted to savor more, savor everything.

  Their slick, slippery bodies began to move in rhythm, and soon the air sang with the rapid slide of flesh against flesh.

  She bit his shoulder then threw back her head and arched her back, taut like a bow. A bundle of pure sensation ready to explode, she was every bit as rough as he felt. He placed his mouth on her neck and bit down, trying to hold her to him.

  She screamed his name as her internal muscles finally convulsed around him. The blinding, searing joy stripped him of his last bit of sanity. She gave a keening cry of release and he damn near howled as his own body responded.

  Still sobbing out his name, she clung to him. Caught in some twisted vortex of past and present, Hunter locked her in his embrace and let his own tears flow.

  Hours later, Hunter lifted his head as he heard the desert winds pick up outside their cave. Bailey stirred in his arms.

  Shaken to his foundations by what they had done, what he had done, he tried to find his center. Somehow, this hot woman’s sensual draw had captured his spirit. He’d done as he had never intended. And he hated himself for the lapse of control.

  Bailey sensed the change in the air and opened her eyes. Stretching along the length of him, she tried to think. She wanted to say something, to tell him how monumentally important what they’d done had been for her. But she was still lost in sensation.

  “I…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “That was really something.”

  “Something?”

  She didn’t like his suddenly stern tone, and she nearly wept when he took her by the shoulders and rolled her aside.

  The blast of cold that hit her was as much emotional as it was physical.

  “For heaven’s sake, can’t we just say it was fun?” She forced herself to speak the words flippantly, with a roll of her eyes. “So much so, let’s do it again. Right now.”

  But just then the wind shifted and an eerie howl blasted through their warm cave, scaring her spitless. Ohmigosh. She reached for Hunter, trying to climb right inside him.

  He sat up and pulled her close. “Easy. That’s probably only a lonely coyote, or maybe a stray dog looking for the rest of its pack. Not to worry.”

  Unable to speak, she burrowed her nose in the crook of his neck and whimpered. Her body shuddered uncontrollably.

  Hunter stroked her hair and murmured soothing words she didn’t understand. When the shakes subsided, he pulled back and lifted her chin.

  “None of this is a game,” he told her softly. “The Skinwalkers are not just legends, they’re all too real. I’m ashamed of myself for losing control with you—especially in the middle of danger. I took something that wasn’t offered. I’ve never done anything so rash in my life.”

  Embarrassed, vulnerable and not sure what to say, Bailey decided to stick with being flip. “Well, you were sure good at it.”

  He moved away, zipped himself up and stoked the embers of the fire. “I…we…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t use protection. Didn’t even consider it. I apologize. But I want you to know I’m healthy. The Brotherhood took vows of celibacy a couple of years ago and I have been true to that vow, until tonight.”

  “Celibacy? As in no sex? For two years?”

  She could swear he was blushing. But maybe it was the glow of the firelight that gave his cheeks that rosy flush.

  “Okay. That’s cool, I guess.” But something was bugging her. And of course, like an idiot, she let it all come popping out of her mouth. “Wait a minute. You talk like I either had nothing to do with what just happened…or maybe had everything to do with it. I was a willing participant. You didn’t force me. Not even close.”

  “Bailey…” He reached out for her.

  “No.” She batted his hands away. “I wanted it to happen, yes. I’ve dreamed about being with you again for years. But I didn’t force you, either. And for your information,” she declared, “I’m healthy, too. They checked us out at rehab. I’m a drug addict—but I didn’t use needles and I’m not a sex addict.”

  Except when she was around him. But that didn’t seem like the right thing to say at the moment.

  He could barely look her in the eye. His body language said he regretted what they had done.

  God, this was so frustrating and sad. Considering the danger they were in and how close they had to stay in order to remain alive, the two of them should be growing more intimate, learning each other’s moves. Instead, she couldn’t understand him at all.

  Okay, he’d had a bad childhood and that sucked. But she’d heard much worse in group therapy. She couldn’t relate to such things, but knew that talking about them with someone who cared was the only way to climb out of wallowing in pain.

  Afraid she was falling in love again with a man who still could not, or would not, care about her, Bailey felt miserable all over. Her body and mind ached for him. But there was nothing she could say to change things, so she sat up and straightened what was left of her clothing.

  Staying alive. Saving Tara. Bailey had to concentrate on the things potentially within her power.

  Hunter saw annoyance spike in Bailey’s eyes, but he was helpless to do anything about it. He’d let her tip him out of balance again. When they were safe, he would find a hataalii who knew the right sings to cure them both. But Hunter would be no help to her or the child unless he found harmony now.

  The continued loss of his own control would make him useless. He closed his eyes and chanted a prayer of spirit harmony and promised himself it would not happen again.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked her moments later, in as noncommittal a voice as possible. “Dawn is right around the corner. We’ll be free to look for that other way into the Skinwalkers’ hideout.”

  “I don’t eat breakfast. But I’d give my right arm if you could conjure up a little coffee right now, medicine man.”

  He ignored her teasing jab, but couldn’t help a small one of his own. “Isn’t caffeine just another addiction, slick? Just another way of hiding from yourself?”

  Her face paled and she jerked upright on shaky legs. “You’re one to talk about hiding from how you feel. I’ve never seen anybody so…”

  She paused and had the grace to look flustered. Waving her arms around the cave, she changed the topic. “I need to get out of this place. It’s creepy, dark and claustrophobic. If the sun’s coming up, let’s go.”

  Hunter couldn’t agree more. He needed the sunshine. Needed to be out in Dinetah where he belonged.

  He nodded and threw sand on the fire. “Put your shoes on, Miss Howard. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  After taking a few moments outside for a dawn chant, Hunter led the way down the cliff. At the bottom, he glanced around and listened for any sounds that seemed out of place.

  As he looked toward the canyon floor, the whole world suddenly turned vermillion. The dramatic beauty of dawn in his sandstone desert was breathtaking. The sky was luminescent, a shade of pure blue that shimmered with the sun’s golden highlights. If he lived to a thousand, he would never get tired of this sight.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Bailey’s voice was filled with all the wonder that he felt.

  He turned to her and for the second time in a minute lost his power of speech. She w
as magnificent, with the sun’s rays making her skin glow and those same golden highlights shine in her eyes.

  Wanting her, needing to possess her, Hunter stood speechless and immobile. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be with her. Yet he could not bear to walk away.

  Fortunately, the shrill call of a hawk hunting for its morning meal brought him back to the present. Back to the war.

  As a warrior must be willing to do, Hunter swallowed his needs. He vowed to stick with the real world and let go of all things that were…impossible.

  7

  They had been walking through narrow rock canyons for so long that Bailey was becoming disoriented. Everything looked the same.

  It had only been a couple of hours. Not even time enough for the sun to rise high in the sky. But that was part of the reason she felt so uncomfortable. There was no possible way to judge time or space.

  From these confining canyons she could look up and see the sparkling cerulean sky beyond flashy red sandstone spires. Fabulous vistas, but they all looked exactly the same.

  Turning one more corner, Hunter stopped her with a gentle hand as she followed him. “Look. Down there.” He pointed and she swung around. “From here you can get a good view of the desert floor and the empty cabin.”

  She hadn’t even realized they’d been climbing as they followed the rocky paths. But when Bailey focused, she got an excellent glimpse back to where they’d started. It seemed like a long way.

  Hunter offered her the canteen. She hesitated. Not really thirsty, she would rather save the precious water.

  “Take a sip,” he urged. “You can easily dehydrate in the desert and never realize it. Sunstroke and heatstroke are usually not far behind, so drink.”

  He squatted on his heels as she leaned against a granite outcropping and took a few swallows. He raised the binoculars and studied the canyon floor below them.

  “Ah. I remember now,” he said from behind the glasses. “About six months ago the Tribal Police took reports from two different shepherd families in this area. They claimed to have seen a helicopter crash into the desert.