by Nina Bruhns
Luce’s head spun from information overload. She rose from her chair, retrieved the printed copy and stuck it in the manila folder she’d begged from the reference librarian an hour or so ago. Then she gathered up the rest of her things and slowly made her way toward the front door. She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. It was nearly dusk.
And there was no sign of Philip.
She stepped outside and scanned the area. To one side of the entrance, in the lengthening shadows of a spreading oak, she spotted a low step in the sidewalk. She walked over and dropped down onto it. Her things slid from her arms onto the still-sun-warm cement as she covered her face with her hands.
He hadn’t come for her.
Suddenly, a large frame eased onto the step next to her and she felt a strong arm go gently around her. Her body gave a shuddering sigh of relief. And a spurt of joy. Instinctively she leaned against him and let her hands fall to her lap.
“Hi.”
Wordlessly he laid his cheek on her head. She sat there with eyes closed for a long time, drinking in the familiar scent of him, fighting the inner trembling that threatened for no rational reason.
“Tough day?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
“Yeah,” she whispered, toying with the reflector glasses hanging from his shirt neck. “You get the map from Renata?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. We should be able to find the box canyon tomorrow.”
She swallowed. “How do you know I’ll still be here tomorrow?”
She felt his warm breath in her hair and knew that he knew. That she’d stay. What she was feeling. Everything about her. Somehow he always knew.
“Because you want your P.I. business.”
She should be terrified of his ability to see right through her, but at this moment it was…comforting.
After a moment he quietly said, “Tell me what you found out at the library.”
She pushed out a weary breath. Gathering her wits, she sorted the information jumbled in her brain.
“The Hidalgos aren’t Hispanic. They’re nobility from Cantabria, in Spain, from way back.”
“Ah. That’s why the blonds. Light hair is fairly common in the northern part of Spain.”
“You’ve been there?”
“A summer in college. Go on.”
“The family has always maintained close ties to the old country. The children were regularly sent to Spain to find appropriate spouses. Until Maria Hidalgo, who married a local boy in a love match.”
“Peter Santander.”
“He was a midlevel employee at Hidalgo Industries. A bookkeeper or advertising executive or something. Rising, but his family was not of the upper class, and the family was horrified at the marriage. Their little girl was called Constanza.”
“Does that name sound familiar?” he asked.
She shook her head and his cheek lifted, cool air rushing to replace the warmth of his nearness. “No,” she whispered, not sure if that lack of recognition was reassuring or distressing.
He gave her forehead a lingering kiss. “Why did they think Maria killed Peter?”
“The theory was that she was having an affair, and he found out about it. He supposedly caught them in flagrante at the Hidalgo summer cabin, and she killed him to prevent a scandal.”
“Seems extreme.”
Luce smiled weakly. “Yeah.”
“Guess that theory’s changed a bit since they found her remains.”
“From what I’ve read, they don’t have a new theory. Tough to reconstruct motive after nearly thirty years.”
“Motives don’t change,” he said. “Money. Power.” He looked down at her. “Love.”
She swallowed again, pulled by the tenderness in his eyes. “Yes. But which one?”
“We may never know. But if anyone can find out, it’s Ted. He’s like a pit bull with a bone.”
She sighed. “Anyway. It has nothing to do with me. I looked at every newspaper picture I could find of every member of both families, and nobody rings a bell. I don’t recognize any names or faces, other than myself in Maria. I can’t be that little girl, Constanza. Even if they never find her remains, I’m not her.”
He stroked her back. “Still…”
At his tone she looked up. “What?”
“You could request a DNA comparison. They must have done one on the remains.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why would I do that? It’s just too farfetched to act on a superficial resemblance.”
“Maybe.”
“But you think I should anyway?” she asked, incredulous.
“Maybe. Just to put your mind at rest.”
Rest. Something she’d never be able to do. Not as long as she had to keep searching for that elusive…something, somewhere on the other side of the mountain.
She put her hand to Philip’s cheek and gazed up into his concerned face. And thought that perhaps she should give it a try. For a day or two. Just to test the waters.
She’d never met a man like him before. And wasn’t ever likely to again.
Perhaps she should give him a try. For a night or two…
Darkness had settled in as they talked. Around them the garden shrubs cast shadows from the lights of the surrounding businesses and the headlights of the hushed traffic driving by. Still in her short-sleeved top, she shivered.
She stretched up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then rose to her feet. “So, what does a woman have to do to get an invitation to dinner around this town?”
He leaned back on his elbows on the sidewalk, looking sexier than any man alive had a right to look. He flicked his chin at a largish bag she hadn’t noticed had been sitting behind her on the step, and beamed her an enigmatic smile.
“Just put that on,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You like Santa,” he said. “So I figured you like presents, too.”
“A present?” She sat back down next to him, astonished he remembered her thing for Santa. Even more astonished he’d gotten her a gift. “For me?”
Nobody got her presents. Except her mom and dad. And the white elephants at the annual jump shop holiday party, but they didn’t really count.
He pushed the fancy handled bag toward her with a finger. “Go on.”
She took a breath and peeked down into the bag, shifting aside the extravagant tissue paper. “Oh, my God.” She cut him a look of disbelief. “It’s the dress!”
He gave her a roguish grin. “I liked how you looked in it. I’d like to see you in it again.”
Her mouth opened, recalling the price tag. “But I couldn’t possibly—”
“There’s more,” he said, cutting off her objections.
Now she was really shivering. Curiosity more than prudence made her dig deeper in the bag. And found—“Matching shoes.” She lifted the elegant sling-backs from the depths. “They’re gorgeous, Philip. And just the right size. How did you—”
“When we bought your boots.”
She gazed at him wonderingly. “You remembered?”
“I remember everything about you, sweetheart.”
He held her eyes for a long moment, until she was forced to look down at the shoes and dress she held reverently in her lap. “I can’t accept these, Philip. It’s far too much, and—”
“There are no strings, Luce. I don’t expect anything in return, except you sitting across from me at dinner wearing them.”
“They’re too expensive—”
“I know the shop owner. She gave me a deal. Please, let me do this for you. I want to.”
She could tell he was lying about the deal. But she could also tell he wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.
“Will you wear my dress?”
She filled with warmth. And relented, cherishing his gift with all her heart. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Just dinner,” he said. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” And she did. He had no idea she was so close to surrender he didn�
��t need presents to topple her over the brink.
“Good. Because there’s more.”
At the look on his face her heartbeat kicked up. In the gathering darkness, the sharp lines of his features were thrown into sensual silhouette, his lounging figure shrouded in erotic inky shadows. With a start she realized he was no longer in uniform. He was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to midforearm, his Stetson tipped casually back on his head.
He pushed the bag back toward her.
She nibbled her lower lip and slid a hand into the far depths of the tissue. And found a cellophane-wrapped rectangular box. She pulled it out, recognizing immediately what it contained.
Condoms.
“In case you’d like dessert after dinner,” he murmured, soft and low.
Her pulse tripled. “Philip…” she whispered.
He reached into his breast pocket and fished out a flat, plastic object. A hotel room keycard. “It’s a long drive back to Piñon Lake. I thought we might stay the night in Santa Fe. If you like.”
Rendered speechless, she was unable to tear her gaze from his. In the distance a horn honked, and the insects in the nearby flowers tuned their orchestra a little higher.
He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. A soft, undemanding kiss. “Don’t answer now. Wait till after we’ve eaten. And remember, only if you really want to.”
Mesmerized by the gentle persuasion of his mouth, she slowly nodded.
He pressed a button on his watch and it glowed a dim green. “Library closes in fifteen minutes. Better get in there and change.”
Philip waited for her, stretched out on the steps, awaiting his fate in the darkness. The smell of sun-warmed earth and spring-fresh plants mixed with the enticing spicy aromas wafting from the neighboring restaurants. Here in town the stars were faint, but the moon shone above big and bright. A Chevy drove by trailing the twanging notes of a popular Tex-Mex tune in Spanish.
He liked it here. He’d never been to St. Louis, but he didn’t think it could possibly be better than Santa Fe.
Not that it mattered. He was only asking her to stay with him for one night. Not a lifetime.
Still. She had to see that Santa Fe was way better than St. Louis.
When she came out he was unprepared for the vision that came to a halt at his feet.
The dress was everything he remembered and more. She’d taken out her ponytail, and her pale hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends turning in to accentuate the low cut of the dress over her full breasts. The cute strappy heels made her legs look miles long. She’d also found the lipstick the lady at the drug store had recommended when he was buying protection.
His mouth went dry as desert sand. “Oh, baby,” he whispered.
Vaulting to his feet, he resisted the overwhelming compulsion to sweep her into his arms and maul her right there, as the mountain lion hiding inside his body urged him to do. He confined himself to one intimate kiss.
“You look beautiful.”
He drove them to Maria’s, his favorite Mexican restaurant.
“The margaritas here are unbelievable,” he told her as they took their seats at a romantically lit table in a back corner. “The food, too.”
There was just enough light to see all the delectable details of her in that incredible dress. His mouth went from dry to watering. Damn. His body didn’t know what to do with itself.
He wished they’d gotten a booth so he could touch her.
She glanced around, then at him, looking like a nervous teenager trapped in a movie starlet’s body. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said with a little laugh.
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t want me in this dress, after all.”
He grinned. “Smart girl.”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“You haven’t said no.”
Her tongue peeked out and slid across her lips. His body tightened. “True.”
The waitress came, and Luce hiked a brow when he didn’t even try to order for her.
“You order for me,” he told her.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He relaxed back in his chair. “Go on. I trust you.”
It took her about three seconds to get over her shock and quickly peruse the menu again. She ended up getting two different combo plates—one with blue-corn tortillas—with chips and guacamole to start, along with bowls of posole as the first course.
“Good choices,” he said approvingly, after the waitress had left. “Most outsiders don’t get posole, or blue corn.”
“I’m the adventurous type,” she said with a teasing smile.
His body tightened even more. “Lucky me,” he said, lifting his margarita for a toast. “To more adventures.”
Their glasses clicked, sprinkling salt over the table. He sipped his Chinaco Classico as he watched her test the flavor of her drink on her tongue. She’d made him choose the margaritas. A hundred different types were too many for her to decide among, she’d protested. He’d ordered her a Paradiso. Sort of like a glass of Kristal, Mexican-style.
“Wow,” she said. He could practically see the liquor burn a path down her throat. “Tasty.”
He grinned. “Did I mention it was strong?”
He liked her spunk. He liked a lot of things about her. Right now he liked the way she looked in that dress, and what she was doing to his body. He hoped she’d be doing a lot more to it later.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said, dumping him out of his pleasurable thoughts after the food arrived.
“Like what?” he asked semiwarily, digging in.
“Whatever it is you’re not telling me,”
He stared at her, fork halfway to his mouth. “I think I’ve mentioned before I don’t believe in secrets.”
She dug in, too. “So don’t keep any. What made you move away from California?”
He let out a long breath. And took a long sip from his drink. Then he took a long time pouring some extra salsa from a bowl on the table onto his fajita.
“It’s complicated,” he finally said.
“It usually is.”
“There was a woman involved, but she’s not the main reason I left. In fact, we’re still friends. Her husband gave me my motorcycle.”
“You have a motorcycle?” Luce appeared shocked.
“In the garage. Too cold to ride until the past few weeks, and I’ve been busy. It’s a Harley.”
“Wow.” She sipped her Paradiso. “Who’d have thought?”
He contemplated her mildly. “Have I just been insulted?”
She smiled. “You seem kind of…conservative…to have a hog. Police chief and all.”
“You mean boring?”
“Not boring. Upstanding.”
His brow flicked. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No. But I like your hidden depths.”
“Thank you. I think.”
She grinned.
“And for your information,” he stated, “lots of cops ride Harleys. In an official capacity, even.”
“I stand corrected,” she said politely. “Now. You were saying? About California?”
Speaking of pit bulls with bones…
He sighed. “I was sheriff. There was a huge scandal involving drugs, illegal poaching and murder. The department was implicated. I was innocent. When the dust settled I left.”
There. Short, sweet and to the point.
“Wow,” she said again.
For someone so “upstanding,” he made her say that word a lot.
His mind turned a corner and he smiled, thinking of other ways to make her say wow.
“What?” she asked.
He tilted his head and smiled lasciviously. “Just thinking about what I’m going to do to you later.”
Her mouth popped open, then shut. “I haven’t said yes,” she repeated.
“You haven’t said no,” he echoed.
She gulped her drink. She was getting flustered. Ha.
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br /> “Might want to go easy on that stuff,” he advised straight-faced. “You could get drunk and I might take advantage of you.”
Her cheeks turned the color of the salsa. The red kind. God, she was cute.
“I didn’t think bounty hunters blushed.”
“I’m not blushing. It’s the reflection from the lights.” She pointed to the fairy lights with red plastic chile pepper covers that floated overhead.
“Okay,” he said agreeably. They both knew better.
They finished dinner. He even managed to keep up his end of the conversation without staring at her breasts. Too much. But by the end of the evening, all he wanted to do was slide his hands inside that silky, grape-colored dress and touch them. He was hard as the wooden chair he was sitting on and had miscalculated badly when choosing the size of his new jeans. Should have gotten them a lot bigger.
“So,” she said.
Instinctively his body lurched. Something in her voice alerted him that This Was It.
“So?” He could play it as cool as the next guy.
She leaned in. “So…about you wanting to have sex with me.”
“Oh, that,” he said, and was instantly alarmed because he hadn’t really planned on saying anything at all at this particular moment, not wanting to jinx it, as it were. “I’ve changed my mind about that,” he said.
“You have?”
He had?
They peered at each other for a moment while he got his tongue untied. He was as surprised as she by his utterance.
“Yeah,” he said, and realized the voice came from deep inside him somewhere. From the same place that liked to blast his Harley down a summer road straining bugs through his teeth. “I don’t want to have sex with you. I want to make love with you.”
Her eyes couldn’t get much wider than they already were, but at his declaration, they managed. She gazed at him for a seemingly endless time. Then she took a deep breath and let it out.
“Wow,” she whispered.
They made it as far as the Jeep. Maria’s was in a dumb location with no parking, and he’d had to park it down the street in a deserted alley behind some seedy-looking car-parts store. He’d cursed his bad parking-karma earlier, but at the moment was thanking his lucky stars.