Shadows and Ruins

by Denise A. Agnew

  waggled her eyebrows. "Come on, baby, don't you want to lose some inhibitions? Do it

  with me."

  He laughed. "I agree some men probably use that as a line. But not me. Whether

  you believe it or not, I don't have to use lines to meet women."

  Oh, she could believe. She couldn't imagine any woman finding Shane unattractive.

  He was too damned gorgeous, too charismatic.

  "It's not a bad thing to have some inhibitions," he said. "I meant you seem…in need

  of a release. Maybe an outlet for energy you've built up over the years."

  Yes, she needed a release. If he kept looking at her as if he could read her mind,

  she'd dream of him again. In her dreams he'd become the dark, dangerous, out of

  control beast who wanted to rid her of common sense and those little inhibitions he'd

  mentioned. A man who challenged her to forget bad memories and become someone

  new.

  She shook her head and decided their conversation had wavered onto treacherous

  ground. "So you think people don't like you because you're a bit introverted?

  According to legend, people rarely saw Sadie off her land. She seldom came into

  Gambit Creek for provisions. You certainly don't isolate yourself that much."

  "No. But I've been tempted."

  She wondered what had turned him toward such introspection, such alienation.

  "You go out a lot?" he asked.

  "No. I have friends in archaeological circles, but we don't socialize much." She

  shrugged.

  He appraised her indolently. "I'd think you'd have plenty of men knocking at your

  door."

  He certainly didn't mind coming right to the point.

  She remembered Grant's embrace and shuddered slightly. "I've stayed busy the last

  few years obtaining my master's and then working in the field. I don't have much time

  for dating."

  "Your job is the most important thing to you."

  "You could say that."

  "What about family?"

  It took her a long time to answer. "Just my parents."

  "An only child. That explains the heavy ambition."

  "I wasn't an only child." She couldn't catch herself quickly enough to keep from

  saying the words. "I had a brother, Doug."

  His brow furrowed slightly. "Had?"

  She shifted, uncomfortable, feeling old pain rise like clouds over the ridge. "He's

  dead."

  Genuine sympathy came into his eyes. "I'm sorry."

  She swallowed hard. "It was a very long time ago."

  She half-expected him to probe further but when he didn't, relief flooded her.

  Acknowledging Doug's death came with a pain that never completely left her, the

  memories of why he'd died agonizing to relive. She shrugged off the sadness and anger

  that always pricked her heart like a needle when she thought about Doug and her

  parents.

  Think about something else. With Shane so close it wasn't as difficult as she imagined.

  As he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his long legs out, she fixated on the

  superbly formed length of his sinewy thighs. No man had a right to look so damned

  good. "What do you do for entertainment when the ranch takes up so much of your

  time?"

  "Ride my horse in the mountains and enjoy the outdoors. Or maybe sit under a tree

  and read a good book."

  "You like to read?"

  "Don't sound so surprised. I read the Wall Street Journal, Range magazine, some

  early American history journals and lots of science fiction."

  She realized that she'd been guilty of pigeonholing him just as Sadie was

  stereotyped in her time. She'd put him in a little box labeled "brute and brawny".

  Emma crossed her legs yoga style. "My history and archaeology books are my most

  prized possessions. My father is an archaeologist and he used to say `Sweet Pie, you'll

  go to your grave reading a history book'."

  His lips turned up slightly. "So you followed your father around and learned what

  it took to become an archaeologist?"

  She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "No, I'm afraid

  Father had other ideas about what I should do."

  Shane's brow creased. "Was he afraid you'd get hurt if you went on a dig with

  him?"

  "He thought I should be a history teacher for grade school kids."

  "Why?"

  "Father is from the old school that says women are decorative and useful as long as

  they don't get in a man's way. He's always had a low opinion of the women

  archaeologists he worked with."

  He made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Obviously you showed

  him differently."

  She nodded but didn't elaborate. She didn't believe in revealing truckloads of

  personal information to virtual strangers.

  "Sweet Pie," he said huskily, lying on his side and supporting his head in his palm.

  "I think I like the sound of that."

  She wished she'd kept her mouth closed. Even remembering her father's former

  nickname for her created a bitter taste in her mouth. "He stopped calling me that after

  my brother died."

  She half expected him to ask for clarification, but he didn't. When she didn't speak,

  he reached into the hamper and pulled out an apple then took a big bite. Charlie

  watched him expectantly and he tossed her another dog biscuit. "Okay, girl. That's all

  you get for now."

  As she sat in companionable silence with Shane, Emma almost asked him more

  about his life, about why he found nature and animals far more interesting than friends

  and dating. About why he'd been intent on protecting her from Grant.

  Thunder disconnected her stream of thought. Brilliant, intense sky was broken

  along the west by thunderheads.

  "Damn," she muttered.

  He stopped crunching his apple long enough to respond. "What's wrong?"

  "It's going to rain."

  "Then I guess you'd better show me the site before all hell breaks loose," he said,

  gathering up the hamper.

  While he went to his rusty truck, she stayed under the trees, unwilling to break the

  cocoon of her relaxation. She couldn't recall when she'd last felt so carefree. It made no

  sense considering what had happened so far that day.

  Shane approached and she reached over to caress one of Charlie's silky ears. Maybe

  if she didn't look at Shane she'd forget how he walked or the way his gaze burned her

  deep inside with an overpowering sexual craving she tried unsuccessfully to ignore.

  He reached out to help her up. "We'd better get to it."

  Without hesitating Emma took his warm, slightly calloused hand. His big fingers

  and palm dwarfed her thin hand. He hauled her to her feet. The unexpected momentum

  took her off balance and she tipped toward him. He grasped her waist and steadied her.

  Her palms pressed to his chest and the heat of his body teased her fingers. His strength

  and power, intimate under her palms, sent swirls of excitement dancing inside her.

  Damn, but this man was dangerous to her equilibrium.

  She reached to clasp his forearms, as if she could pry his grip away. "What are you

  doing?"

  Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears, and Shane's eyes went stormy, just

  as the clouds above them darkened with each passing moment. His lips parted slightly,

  as if he might answer. His blatant stare devoured, took stock. Time h
ung in a balance.

  "Damned if I know." His voice came quiet and deep. His breath touched her face.

  He inhaled deeply. "God, you smell good. What is that scent?"

  Surprised by the turn in conversation, she took a few seconds to answer.

  "Insatiable. It's a rose-scented cologne."

  His mouth upturned in a sexy grin. "Insatiable, eh? Are you?"

  For the umpteenth time that day her cheeks reddened, and her stomach danced

  with a combination of nerves and excitement. "No."

  He tilted his head slightly to the side, a twinkle of pure amusement in his eyes. "I

  don't believe you."

  He released her waist so his hands could take up residence on her back and press

  her closer. Her hands slid upwards to his biceps and hard muscles moved under her

  touch. She parted her lips, but words wouldn't form. Her breath seized in her chest, her

  heart fluttering quickly.

  In a last defense against her crumbling walls, she said, "I don't care what you

  believe, Shane."

  He nodded. "I'm not sure that's true either. But what I really want to know is if you

  want me to let you go."

  Did she? Confusion played with her emotions, dropping her low and then bringing

  her high. She didn't put much thought into her next words but blurted out the truth. "I

  don't know."

  With heated attention his gaze caressed her face. "Then maybe we should find out."

  Without further warning his lips crushed down on hers, shutting out all but one

  sensation.

  Burning need.

  She couldn't remember Grant's kiss. Perhaps it was the clear and unmistakable

  power of Shane's touch. His mouth moved on hers passionately, without restraint. It

  was as if he'd a right to kiss her and had done so a thousand times before. And would a

  million times more.

  With this heady allurement came other sensations she couldn't dismiss. Everything

  seemed clearer, heightened under his embrace. Emma inhaled his scent, breathing in his

  special musk and the tantalizing freshness of soap. The solid steel of his strong chest

  crushed her breasts, his sturdy thighs pressed against her. His hard cock pressed

  against her belly and brought new, staggering desire to her entire body. Plunging into

  her mouth, Shane met her tongue and caressed with a sensuous, flagrantly sexual

  dance. Somewhere along the way she realized that her fingers had tangled in the thick

  softness of his hair. The silky texture teased her fingers. He pressed her tighter to him.

  Excitement hardened her nipples and pulsating heat surged between her thighs. A soft

  moan escaped her throat, and he gentled his kiss, languidly caressing.

  A part of her mind shrieked at her to take control. But Shane's embrace was unique.

  Wonderful.

  Carnal.

  Erotic.

  The kiss went on endlessly, splintering her mind and inhibitions into a thousand

  scattered pieces. Without restraint, she moved sinuously, rubbing her belly against his

  erection. Gratification filled her as she felt him harden even more.

  His touch lowered to her ass, one hand squeezing her butt cheek with possessive

  attention. She'd no sooner registered his blatant touch when his other hand came up

  and cupped her left breast. With a gentle tug, he plucked her nipple through her shirt

  and bra. His tongue continued a steady rhythm in her mouth.

  She gasped as pleasure stung her hard nipple and sent a sweet yearning ache

  between her legs. Emma felt her folds moisten, plump, widen for his touch and the

  thrust of his cock.

  Amazed by the intensity of her body's reaction, she moaned and writhed in his

  arms. Again, his fingers plucked her nipple, strummed with a maddening stroke. She

  couldn't breathe, and yet everything inside her yearned for more. She ached, she

  pulsated in her deepest core. Much more of this and she'd combust on the spot and be

  damned to the consequences.

  Thunder rumbled, this time close and threatening.

  Emma surfaced into reality as if someone had dumped cold water over her head.

  She pulled her lips from his, surging back against his arms so that he released her

  abruptly.

  She took a shuddering breath as she moved several paces back from him, and her

  heart hammered in her chest. Shane's expression looked hot and needful. Almost

  dazed. His breath came quickly, but his expressive eyes cleared into a more wary,

  watchful condition.

  As if the force had almost overwhelmed him.

  "Emma," he said softly, deeply.

  She put her hands to her face and felt the heat radiate from her skin. She swallowed

  hard and dropped her hands. "We'd better hurry if you want to look at the excavation

  before the rain."

  She rushed toward the site without looking back.

  * * * * *

  "Would you look at that?" the One said as he stood upon the high ridge and looked

  down at Shane O'Donnell and Emma Baker.

  Incongruously, he wore a double-breasted suit. The short man had never seen him

  in human clothes. With his square jaw and gray hair, he looked like someone who

  might walk down Gambit Creek's Main Street without anyone taking a second look.

  The short man watched the One adjust his binoculars and marveled at the man's long,

  elegant fingers.

  "What are they doing now?" the short man asked, dressed far less formally. He

  twisted the hem of his T-shirt and used it for a towel. His hands sweated and his torso

  felt sticky from the hot sun glazing the canyon ridge.

  The One barked a laugh. "They were kissing."

  "What?" The short man reached for the binoculars, but the One wrenched them

  back.

  "They've stopped and now they're heading to the pit."

  The short man put his hands on his hips, his lips drawing back with a snarl. "Damn

  it."

  Dropping the binoculars to his side, the One glared and sighed in exasperation.

  "Get control. Have patience."

  The shorter man glanced at his urbane partner and paced. "We've waited too damn

  long as it is. I need to find the necklace for myself when they're not around and then I'll

  have what I need."

  The One lifted the binoculars and examined the woman and man below with

  interest. "As soon as they leave and we've given them sufficient time to leave the area

  you can search again for the necklace." His gaze centered on the woman's slim body,

  and he licked his lips. "Mmmm…mmm. I imagine you like her, don't you? She's a piece

  of work. For a human."

  Pacing back to his vehicle, the short man turned the full force of his glare on his

  more genteel-looking partner. "She's not going to be here much longer. You promised

  me that when you got what you came for that you'd leave her to me."

  Instead of lowering the binoculars, the One said, "Oh, don't you worry. When I

  have what I want, she'll be yours."

  "Mine?"

  "Yours."

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  As Emma explained the phases of the excavation to Shane in detail, he discovered

  partway through her explanation that he couldn't absorb a thing she said. He was too

  busy remembering the way her breasts and hips felt pressed against him, the way her

  hard little nipple had responded to his touch. Each time she glanced at him, the sea-

  green depths
in her eyes mesmerized him, and the way wisps of her gold-spun hair had

  fallen from her braid made him want to say the hell with the excavation and drag her

  into his arms again.

  He felt like a nineteen-year-old again dealing with relentless arousal. He kicked

  himself every step of the way for letting things get out of hand. Or in hand, depending

  how he looked at it.

  When he'd helped her to her feet he hadn't intended to kiss her. But when she'd

  stumbled forward he'd found the touch of her fingers on his arms enticing and the feel

  of her body too much to resist. Something relentlessly horny inside him demanded

  satisfaction. He tried to recall if he'd ever responded to another woman like this and

  realized he hadn't. When he'd worked for the agency, his relationships often came as

  short-term sexual flings agreed upon between him and the woman.

  Emma was different. Damned if she hadn't started to bewitch him body and soul.

  "As I've explained to your aunt and uncle, Grant and I initially did a sweep of the

  area and marked artifacts that were lying in a scatter. We used pin flags." She showed

  him the thin, flexible metal sticks with red and blue flags attached to one end. "If we

  were surveying a site where archaic finds might be made, we'd mark petrified wood

  that had obviously been chipped off a larger piece with a red flag. The blue flags are

  normally used to mark an actual artifact such as a knife, scraper or any other tool native

  peoples may have used."

  "But you've only found evidence of historic occupation here," he said.

  "Yes…I'm…" She stopped and stared at him. She gave him a tentative smile. "I'm

  sorry. I've gone off on a tangent. We're supposed to be talking about Sadie's cabin and

  I'm veering off into totally irrelevant areas."

  As Emma continued talking about the site, Shane's mind drifted to the way she'd

  responded to his embrace. She'd moved out of his arms before he'd wanted to release

  her, but gratification had flowed through him when she'd warmed, kissing him hotly

  and starting a conflagration that coursed deep in his blood. Physically she was

  womanly, curved and sweet to look at. Yet he'd sensed a hesitation, an unwillingness to

  let go sexually, to take his passion and match it with her own. He suspected if and when