Grabbing the padlock key out of its rock hiding place, he opened the lock, then kicked open the door. “Inside. Hurry.”
“Whose place…?”
“Go!” He gave her a little shove and pushed her across the threshold. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her up bodily and shot-putting her into the room. Thirty seconds later he’d shut and barricaded the door behind them. “Get rid of the disguise.”
“What?”
“Take off that shawl and the scarf on your head. Now.” He went back out for a second to switch on the generators.
When he returned, sparks of energy were bouncing off her like static electricity. He could almost see them lighting up the dark room.
Turning his back, he moved around the main living quarters of the hogan, flipping on a few lights and pulling window coverings shut. The hogan had been partially modernized over the years. Real glass windows, electricity to power lights and even a few basic kitchen appliances had been installed. A small modern bathroom had been added last year.
When he came around the bathroom door, he found Bailey standing exactly where he’d left her. “You still determined to commit suicide on this trek, slick?”
“Why are you being rude?” she snapped. “Are you so furious with me that you’re willing to ruin the plan?”
“Huh?” What the hell was she talking about? “One.”
He held up his forefinger and scowled. “If you don’t get out of that getup before the Skinwalkers show up, you’ll be dead before you can explain you are not the one they’re looking for. Two, the plan called for us to lead them away from the others, not to be attacked before we can get out of here. Three, if you think I’ve been rude so far, just keep standing there staring at me.” He took a step toward her, and she ripped off the shawl and scarf before he could take another one.
He opened a storage locker and found some women’s clothes.
“Here.” He threw them in her general direction. “Put these on and be quick about it. You’re going to invite them in when they show up and you’re going to act like you belong here. Maybe then we’ll live long enough to see the end of this terrific plan.”
She turned her back and pulled the long maroon skirt over the rags of her ruined suit. That she’d thought to turn away from his gaze almost made him smile.
“Hurry up. Put that blouse on, too. When they make a noise outside, indicating they expect to be invited in like any Dine visitor, you will step out the door and wave at them.”
“I’m supposed to invite the Skinwalkers inside to kill us?”
Hunter had to suck in a deep breath to keep from raising his voice. “Remember what Lucas said? The Skinwalkers don’t care about us. They think we’re dead. It’s the baby and the grandmother they want. They won’t come to the door in their animal personas. And there won’t be any grandmother and baby here for them to find, just a young Navajo couple. If we answer their questions and don’t stand in their way, they should just leave us alone.”
She rubbed her arms as though she was cold. “I don’t much care for that word should. What if these aren’t Skinwalkers, but the same two goons who kidnapped me and Tara?”
Ignoring her for the moment, he stepped outside the door and flipped the switch for the electric lights that had been recently installed on tall poles at the edge of the yard. Next he searched the big front room for a hiding place for the rifle and pack that no ordinary shepherd would have. The only possibility was in the storage locker with the clothes. He shoved both items under towels and underwear. Finally, he pulled a gimmee cap off a hook beside the door and fitted it over his hair. The two of them had to appear the same as any sheep-camp Navajos.
“Those two goons never got a good look at me,” he finally answered. “Remember to keep your eyes lowered. Stare right at them and we’re both dead. Don’t say too much, either. Stick to yes and no. Your Navajo is not the greatest.”
He heard her puff out a breath. She was still furious. Good. Anger might keep her alive, and it was definitely easier on him than all those tears had been.
Both of them stood stock-still and stared at the closed door. The normal evening winds had picked up and a warm southwesterly breeze blew around the eight-sided hogan, soft as a mother’s breath against her child’s cheek. There were no noises at all that sounded like Skinwalkers.
Five minutes later the two of them were still standing there, staring at the door and listening. Hunter didn’t know for sure about Bailey, but the waiting was killing him.
“What if that wasn’t Skinwalkers behind us in the desert?” she whispered after another minute. “What if they’re not coming? What if—”
A shrill whistle pierced the air, cutting through her next whispered question. Hunter felt his gut twist.
Bailey spun toward the door and reached for the handle.
“Hold on, slick.” He walked closer and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Give them a minute or two. We don’t want it to look like we were standing around waiting for them.”
She screwed up her mouth and scowled at him. “Not funny,” she whispered.
But she did wait another full minute before she pulled open the door and walked outside. Hunter crept over to the window next to the door and drew aside the curtain so he could see the front yard. If anything went wrong with this little meeting, all he had to defend them was the knife stuffed in his boot.
He saw three figures in the distance. Each of the men was using his human form, but they were too far away for him to get a decent look. Bailey raised a hand and waved.
“Good. Now lower your eyes and come back inside.” He was whispering to her as loudly as he dared through the half-closed door.
When she was back in the big room with the door closed behind her, he quickly gave her last-minute instructions. “Let me do the talking. Stand in the shadows. Don’t raise your face and don’t look at them.”
She narrowed her eyes and her lips flattened into tight thin strips. But she turned and moved back into the darkness of the next alcove.
Hunter opened the door again to find two men standing at the threshold. He didn’t want to appear too curious, but he couldn’t understand why only two of the three had come to the door.
“Ya’at’eeh.” Trying to keep his eyes averted, he stepped aside and indicated the men could enter.
“Ya’at’eeh.” The first one, a man he didn’t recognize, repeated the standard greeting as he moved into the room.
The second man was right behind him, and Hunter nearly jumped out of his skin. He was one of the goons who had kidnapped Bailey and the baby. It would be a cold day in an Anglo hell before Hunter ever forgot the face he’d seen in his binoculars.
These weren’t the Skinwalkers, but merely hired hands again. It wouldn’t do Hunter a bit of good to begin one of the ancient chants to fight them off.
Worse yet, would this smelly idiot recognize Bailey?
The first man who’d entered did the talking. He asked about a grandmother and a child. Hunter kept his eyes down and told him no such females had been to the hogan recently, and that the rest of their clan remained in the mountains.
That same guy moved toward Bailey and asked if she had a child here. She kept her eyes lowered and denied it with a single quiet word.
Hunter held his breath, waiting for the second man to recognize her. But he never moved from his spot right inside the door. His eyes traveled over every surface in the place, but he never acknowledged Bailey.
It seemed like hours, but after a couple of tense minutes, the two men turned and walked out. Hunter stepped across the threshold and watched them leave. As they moved under one of the yard lights, the third man rejoined them and Hunter got a good look at his profile.
At that one surprising sight, Hunter sucked in a lungful of air. Crap. It was Director Levi George, known as “Sarge” to his men at the Navajo Tribal Department of Public Safety. He was the politician who’d been appointed to head up the entire nation’s tribal
police department, and ultimately he was Hunter’s boss.
Pulling his cap down even farther on his forehead, Hunter quickly stepped back inside and closed the door. Of course. It had to have been Levi George’s voice he’d heard right before the fire that had almost killed them in the shaft.
Levi George must be the Skinwalker Dog. Had he seen Hunter’s face? Did he know he’d been spotted?
Hunter waited, listening for any sign.
“Are they gone?” Bailey went to the window and tried to peek out.
“Shush,” he said as he grabbed her up and held her close. “Say nothing. Don’t move.”
After a few minutes of tense silence, Hunter released her and went around the cabin, turning off lights. Once they were in darkness, he went back to the window and lifted the curtain. All three men had left the yard.
“I think they’re gone.” He didn’t intend to tell Bailey about the Skinwalker Dog or about the fact that they may have been compromised.
If Levi George knew he’d been seen, the attack would come swiftly. Hunter tried to keep panic from overtaking his good sense.
“That guy,” Bailey whispered in a high-pitched tone. “The second one by the door. That was Jacquez, the smelly kidnapper. Did you see him? Do you think he recognized me?”
Hunter could hear the panic in her voice and deliberately calmed himself. “I don’t think so. He never made a move for you. Probably he didn’t get a good look at your face.”
“What are we going to do? Where can we go?”
“Sit and be quiet,” he commanded. “I have to think.”
He heard her gasp and figured she must be mad at him again. It couldn’t be helped. His brain had been paralyzed with fear at the sight of Levi George. Then his adrenaline had spiked, making him furious at the Navajo witches. Now he had to clear his head and figure out his and Bailey’s next move.
Should they run? If so, where could they go that would offer more protection?
After his heart stopped pounding quite so loudly in his ears, Hunter remembered that this hogan had been blessed by a hataalii when it was built, and again last year, before a marriage. That may have been why the Skinwalker, Levi George, had hesitated to approach.
Hunter knew the hired goons would be fairly easy to defend against. He still had his rifle and ammunition. Why couldn’t he also perform a special ceremony to help defend the entire hogan against the Skinwalkers? Then he and Bailey would be relatively safe here until morning.
His SUV was parked about ten miles away. In daylight, they could get back there in a few hours. At the same time, the Bird People could go for help and watch over them.
Yes, that was the best plan. Now all he had to do was spend the night here with Bailey, without letting his anger at the Skinwalkers keep him from doing things the right way.
Every time Hunter looked at her, his needs and wants became clear, crowding out everything else in his mind. He’d come close to losing her forever. It was terrifying. It was also arousing.
But that couldn’t be. Taking a deep breath, he made a vow. He might or might not be able to control the Skinwalkers, but he could control his private thoughts.
“Why don’t you eat something, slick?”
It had been hours since those men had come to the hogan. Everything was quiet. Too damn quiet, in Bailey’s opinion.
“I’m not hungry.”
She’d believed Hunter when he said they would be better off staying put, and that he could give the hogan a special blessing. Still, sitting here in near darkness and listening to the winds had been like waiting for the bell to ring, signaling school was out. She was going insane.
“You must eat.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not listening to you anymore. If we’d left here when I wanted to, I’d be back with my family by now.”
“Good thinking. More likely you’d be dead. And I have no intention of dying beside you, as a result of some great plan of yours.”
She heard the subdued anger as his smooth voice slid over her. Well, too frigging bad. She’d made the mistake of hurting his feelings back in front of his cousins—so what? It was time for him to let it go and start thinking about her feelings for a change.
Clinging to his anger was so typical of Hunter. She wouldn’t stand for it ever again.
“I think it’s safe again. I’m going to step outside for some fresh air,” she said with her chin raised. “Do whatever you want, but keep your hurt feelings to yourself. There’s hours and hours left until daybreak, and I’m not letting you continue to run over me the whole time.”
She turned and marched toward the front door. But she hadn’t taken two steps before Hunter had her by the arm and was swinging her around to face him.
“Don’t be an idiot. I told you we can’t go out until daylight.”
“I said I’m not listening to you anymore.” She covered her ears with her hands and tugged against his grip.
“That does it.” He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to him. “I’ve never even come close to laying a hand on a woman in anger before. But we’re either going to make love right now, or I may give it a try.”
Suddenly, every bit of fear and irritation disappeared. She smiled at him and batted her lashes. “I pick making love. And isn’t it a coincidence? Right now my schedule appears to be free.”
He muttered a Navajo curse, then crushed her mouth beneath his. It was a rare, vintage kiss. Better than any fine wine. She could feel the desperation behind it, and let anticipation fuel her movements.
She kissed him back and dug her nails into his wide, muscular shoulders. Sex with Hunter was like having dessert before dinner—fabulous and sinful. But done too often, it could ruin your self-esteem.
Just now, though, she was in the mood for being bad. Dancing on a knife’s edge did that to people, she’d heard.
Moaning, Bailey urged him to hurry. He kept on kissing her as he bunched up her long skirt in one hand and cupped her bottom with the other. None of the tattered clothes she had on underneath could’ve stood up to the force of their desire.
Within seconds, his zipper was lowered and he’d clasped the back of her thighs. Lifting her off her feet, he backed her up to the solid bathroom door and pinned her there. She wrapped her legs around his waist while he drove himself inside her eager body with one frantic shove.
Hanging on, she met each of his wild, raw moves with her own. She lost herself in his kisses and the grinding, untamed thrusts that threatened to take her to a different place. A place far beyond flesh and base desires. A new place, full of earth, fiery fierce movements and gentle careful touching.
This was more…More emotion and more combustion. This was love.
The knowledge had been with her for days. As he drove ever deeper and bent nearly in two to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, she abandoned any pretense that making love with him could ever be just for sex.
As rough and primitive as their lovemaking was, he still took extra care to be sure she was okay. She could feel him straining to hold back for her, at least until stars exploded behind her eyelids and she quit feeling anything at all but exquisite shocks of pure pleasure.
He slammed into her one last time and then both of them stopped breathing.
Next thing she knew, he was easing her down the wall, lowering her to the ground. He ripped his shirt up over his head, while she stepped out of the skirt and lost the blouse.
They were both breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. He tipped his head toward the bathroom. “You first? The generator doesn’t produce much hot water, though. So try to be quick.”
She was dying to see that wonderful grin of his again. He’d looked sober and serious for days now. So she turned her back and winked at him over her shoulder. “I think I might need some help. With washing my back or with…”
His whole face lit up and that awe-inspiring, girl-trapping grin came back in a flash. He didn’t wait for her to finish, but dragged her into hi
s arms and jerked open the bathroom door.
The shower stall was tiny, but big enough for two if they stayed close. Which was fine by Bailey.
Despite their hot and heavy lovemaking, Hunter still felt the need to consume her. His blood heated faster than the water. He positioned them both under the spray, then took his time soaping her body. As he worked the slippery bar into every crevice he could find, he watched her face. At first she giggled, then her eyes glazed over and she began breathing hard.
“We’re going to run out of hot water,” he said at last. “Come here.” He pulled her close so that the lather worked its way onto his chest.
She closed her eyes and hummed, low and sweet and full of need. Her nipples peaked and grew darker as she brushed them across his skin. The water turned lukewarm, so he hurriedly splashed them both to get rid of the soap.
While the spray grew colder, her skin got hotter. Hot and smooth and wet. And more delectable than a poor guy like him could possibly stand.
Liquid fire was racing over his own skin, replacing the soap lather. He turned off the shower and backed her against the tile.
He wanted to taste everything. He’d never been a greedy man; that way led to being out of harmony. But just now, he was desperate to have it all.
Rubbing his hands over her dripping body, he dragged his mouth and teeth along her jawline, then down her neck. Her head fell back, and her moan echoed off the shower walls.
He nipped each extended tip as he licked a path down between her breasts, and then circled her navel with his tongue. Kneeling before her, he gripped her bottom to hold her still, and nuzzled her belly.
Bailey’s thighs were quivering and there was an earthquake in her knees. She wasn’t sure she could continue to stand.
Then she felt Hunter’s warm breath in her most tender of places. The blood pounded in her ears as his moist mouth and tongue danced into hidden spots, igniting her.
Lost again, she reached out for the man she loved.
12
Bailey drove her hands into his hair and held his head. It was all she could do to keep herself steady as he continued exploring her body with his mouth and tongue. Hearing a scream, she was amazed to find it had come from her own throat.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 69