Shadows and Ruins

by Denise A. Agnew

  for his help and rushed out the front door.

  * * * * *

  Shane closed the barn door and hurried back to the house, pushing the damp hair

  out of his face. He was soaked again. He couldn't blame that on anyone but himself.

  He'd wanted Reddins to have enough time to question Emma without her feeling

  pressured to say something she didn't mean. Fat chance in hell anyone could compel

  Emma into doing something if she really, really didn't want to. But he'd give her space.

  Thinking about Emma brought forth a fresh desire to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to do

  so much more. Their picnic lunch conversation had revealed things about her that he

  hadn't expected. He'd enjoyed seeing her reaction when he'd mentioned he liked

  blondes. When he was around her he couldn't seem to help stop flirting with her, from

  saying whatever he wanted.

  He could understand Emma's distrust. Did her misgiving toward him hide

  innocence, or was she a clever actress? Was she trying to find Sadie's treasure for the

  archaeological aspects? Or could she be a part of a larger conspiracy?

  If she was innocent then she was in deep danger. She couldn't know what forces

  she'd unveil if she continued her quest. That scared the crap out of him.

  Still, she'd caught him talking on his I-Doc communicator when Dorky had called.

  He should have been more careful and gone outside to answer the phone. Fuck, he

  needed to watch it.

  Son of a bitch. He couldn't blame Emma for being suspicious of him if he had to lie

  to her so blatantly. Now that he'd frightened her, it would be harder than ever to

  protect her from forces she couldn't understand. Somehow he must work his way back

  into her confidence. Huh. As if she'd ever trusted him.

  Yeah, Shane. Other than this assignment, to finish the mission, why do you need her trust?

  The question hung there in his mind without an answer.

  As he walked into the utility room, his gaze landed on Emma's bra and bikini

  panties hanging on the small clothesline he'd pulled from one wall and hooked to

  another.

  He smiled and reached up to finger one bra cup, enjoying the sensation of lace and

  satin against his skin. The damp material clung to his finger, and he wondered if she

  liked the touch of cotton against her breasts. These hot numbers, though, were satin and

  lace. Nothing innocent or sweet. He looked at the size on the bra. Thirty-four C cup. Not

  huge, but certainly not little. He ached to cup those rounded breasts and this time kiss

  the nipple he'd teased through her bra earlier today. Hell, he wanted to lick and suck

  her in the worst way. Numerous scenarios raced through his mind. Emma naked as the

  day she was born, his hands around her breasts, his mouth tasting her hard nipples.

  Her legs spread wide for him as he dipped his head and licked through her hot pussy

  lips. Her hot sheath embracing his cock in wet, soothing heat as he moved in and out of

  her. He'd find out if her blonde hair was real or from a bottle. He grinned widely. Oh,

  yeah.

  It didn't take him long to realize that Emma had left the house and the Explorer had

  disappeared. Anger rippled through him, but he took a deep breath and stifled it before

  it could grow.

  "Where the hell did you go?" he said to the empty living room.

  Charlie trotted into the living room and examined him with innocent chocolate

  eyes.

  "Where is she, girl?" Shane asked Charlie. He sighed, cursed. He patted the dog on

  the back. "Yeah, like you're going to tell me."

  The Lab swiped her tongue on his hand and grinned. Shane saw a small piece of

  notepaper lying on the coffee table, picked it up and read it. He frowned and then

  cursed.

  He went into his bedroom to change, wondering if Emma had returned to the site

  regardless of his warnings. Sheets of rain pounded the ground, creating a soupy,

  muddy mess. She'd be lucky if the Explorer didn't become stuck in the canyon. As he

  tugged on dry jeans, a biting worry for Emma's safety clamped onto his mind.

  "Stop it," he mumbled. "She can take care of herself."

  She had to be the most obstinate, maddening, pain-in-the-neck woman he'd ever

  met. "That alone should keep her safe from anyone and anything."

  It would serve her right to get her neck in a noose. Maybe she'd understand then

  that you didn't thumb your nose at danger for long before it bit you in the ass. Perhaps

  her headstrong behavior would even protect her from him. He couldn't afford to

  constantly feel this gnawing ache in his groin for a woman he couldn't have. She wasn't

  the one-night-in-the-sack kind of woman, and he couldn't chance emotional

  attachments. Hell, he doubted he could be devoted to any woman for long. But he

  remembered that look on Emma's face when he'd told her she shouldn't go anywhere

  because of the weather. Suspicion had covered her expression.

  Hell, he didn't want her to be afraid of him.

  What the fuck do you want from her other than a good wall banger? No answer came.

  Since Emma had come into his life, he'd reeled from one conflicting emotion to

  another. He'd never reacted to a woman's sensual pull this quickly. Like a potent

  aphrodisiac, she melted his blood. All he could think about was keeping her safe and

  his need to fuck her hard and fast, then soft and slow. Damn it, he wanted to fuck her

  every way possible. Then maybe this driving, intoxicating craving would leave his

  system.

  Not likely.

  * * * * *

  Later that evening, the short man did the One's bidding again, even though the One

  had bloodied his hands. Why did he have to do the One's dirty work? Because he had

  no choice, he supposed.

  The body sagged limply in the short man's arms as he dragged it toward the secret

  place where no one would find it. Emma Baker wouldn't venture here—no one did if

  they understood the forces involved. Of course, he didn't linger long. After stuffing the

  body away, he walked toward Sadie Cutley's mine less than a mile away. He'd brought

  a flashlight because night had started to descend. God, he hated this human body. What

  he could do if he went back to his original form…ah yes, how powerful he could be

  then. Soon he would change back, and then he would enjoy.

  Down the dry creek bed that wound between the towering mountains on either

  side, the journey didn't take him too long with his quick pace and urgent need to see

  the place he'd discovered years ago and needed to return to late at night when he was

  certain Shane O'Donnell wouldn't know. He knew better than to wander too close to

  the mine again. The first time had put him into the state he lived within now. The One

  warned him repeatedly not to enter the mine and told what could happen to him if he

  ripped the boards away and stepped inside the cavelike structure. Damn, how did

  Sadie survive this place so long? What drove her to work here when only destruction

  and death belonged in this secret opening to the realm? Greed? Hate? Curiosity?

  Perhaps all three. Shit, she was nothing more than an ignorant old wench anyway. Of

  course she'd failed, the way Emma Baker would fail. A forbidden thrill ran through him

  at the thought of stepping into the forbidden mines and caves hidden from view now

  by layers of ve
getation and boards.

  Shane O'Donnell might think he could protect people from what lay in wait in the

  depths of the mine, but he couldn't. After all, when the Shadow Realm decided to

  venture forth, to spill into this space and time, no one could escape.

  Confusion spilled through the short man's mind and then he remembered. He

  wasn't really this man—after all, he owned this body for a short time. Oh, how he hated

  this corporeal body.

  With a low laugh that rustled through the breeze, he continued forward on his

  quest. When the One had his treasure, they would enter the mine and release the great

  evil upon the people of Gambit Creek.

  * * * * *

  After she left Shane's house, Emma went straight to the campground with the idea

  of confronting Grant. Better to meet with him now than wait for him to come to her.

  Grant's RV sat like a hulking monster nested down for the night, but no lights showed

  in the windows. No sign of the small SUV he used to drive around town rather than

  take his RV everywhere. She decided to get dinner first and return to the campground

  later.

  At eight o'clock Emma arrived at The Golden Brand fully expecting the parking lot

  to be semi-empty. A small banner on the outside declared it was Golden Brand Famous

  Thursday Night Chili and Country Line Dancing. She circled the lot twice before

  someone relinquished a space. After today's antics she didn't relish a big crowd, but her

  stomach protested loud and clear and she didn't want to grab a quick hamburger. She

  needed time to think through everything that happened recently.

  She climbed out of the SUV and ran through the downpour into the restaurant.

  After a ten-minute wait, a waitress showed her to a table. Packed with people, the

  restaurant hummed with voices. The nasty weather hadn't deterred anyone from

  having a good time. Country line dancing posters graced the swinging doors that led to

  the bar, and a sorrowful Travis Tritt tune came from the room.

  She stared at the menu but nothing seemed appealing. Her stomach flip-flopped

  and she realized her nerves had frayed. Confronting Grant wouldn't be easy.

  It took several moments for her to notice that someone had stopped at her table. She

  expected to see the waitress when she glanced up.

  Surprise made her suck in a quick breath. "Shane." Her gaze flicked up to the

  brown cowboy hat on his head. "Wow."

  "What?" His voice sounded rusty.

  "You do own a cowboy hat."

  He blinked. "Yeah, what about it?"

  She smiled, despite her surprise and the disconcerting excitement that dashed

  around inside her at the sight of him. "Um…never mind."

  One corner of his mouth turned up in his trademark half smile. "Women never say

  never mind to me."

  Her mouth plopped open. "Aren't you the arrogant one?"

  "So you tell me."

  She shook her head and chastised herself internally for starting the conversation in

  that direction in the first place. She shrugged. "Before I met you I had this vision of a

  man who looked like a stereotypical cowboy. You didn't have a cowboy hat that day at

  the site."

  He took the cowboy hat off and tossed it on his side of the table. "Shocked you, did

  I?"

  She nodded and decided to be honest. "In more ways than one."

  Damp and unruly, his hair curled about his head and shoulders in disarray. His

  grim expression reminded her she'd run away from him. Without asking if he could sit

  down, he pulled the extra chair away from the table and sank down into the seat. His

  knees bumped hers under the small table. All her senses locked onto the sensation.

  "Why did you leave without saying goodbye?" he asked with a quiet intensity that

  did nothing to diminish the sharpness of his gaze.

  Emma perused her menu, but didn't see the words in front of her. "Would you

  have let me go?"

  "Maybe." He shrugged. "Maybe not."

  "I don't respond well to caveman tactics, Shane."

  He nodded. "So I noticed. Sometimes caveman tactics are necessary."

  She let every inch of her disapproval show in her expression. "So you think

  violence is the answer to your problems?"

  "No." He shifted in his chair, and his face went expressionless. "Remember what I

  told you. I'd never hurt you. You don't need to be frightened of me."

  She considered his words, wanting to believe, feeling her instincts telling her to

  release suspicions where he was concerned. "I'll admit that telephone conversation

  frightened me. You weren't talking to your uncle, were you?"

  "No, I wasn't." He cleared his throat. "I was talking to a friend."

  "A woman."

  "Yeah."

  "One who knows what's going on with the excavation?"

  "That's right."

  She nodded, not one hundred percent convinced that he told her the truth. "You

  understand now why I bolted?"

  "Not entirely. You ran away, Emma. You didn't confront me."

  Ran away. Yeah, she'd been doing that all her life. Shame made her sigh and she

  closed her eyes a moment before opening them. "I was confused and made a snap

  decision. I'm sorry."

  He shook his head. "It's all right." His gaze caught hers and held steady. "If there is

  one thing I need you to believe, Emma, it's that you can trust me. Will you do that?

  Nothing I ever do is meant to harm you."

  "I'll try." When he didn't speak, she continued. "Why are you here?"

  "I'm hungry."

  "No, I mean why are you really here? Were you looking for me?"

  "You left something at my house." He reached into his front jeans pocket and

  pulled out her bikini panties. He allowed them to dangle from his index finger.

  "Good God," she said, her eyes going wide.

  She snatched them from his finger and stuffed them in her tote bag. She looked

  around the restaurant in embarrassment, certain everyone had seen him produce the

  panties. Just then the waitress arrived at their table looking amused. Though she

  shouldn't give a damn what anyone thought, she wondered if the waitress had seen

  him with her panties. Shane declined to order, and Emma ordered a draft beer.

  After the waitress left, Shane leaned on the table and stared at Emma. "What's

  wrong, Emma? You're about as bug-eyed as a woman can be."

  "Did you have to return my panties like that?" she whispered.

  "What other way would you have me return them?"

  Her temperature soared. She ought to leave him sitting there alone with his smirk.

  "I don't know, but not in a public place." She fidgeted with her water glass, watching

  condensation roll down the side. "You don't have my bra hiding in your pants, do

  you?"

  He smiled slightly and his gaze heated. "Now there's a thought. No. It's hanging

  from my rearview mirror."

  "Hanging from—you're not serious?"

  His gaze trailed over her face and drifted to her lips, their message sensual and

  searching. "Absolutely. I rarely get a prize like that."

  Beyond flustered by his hot gaze, she barely managed to speak. "I find that hard to

  believe."

  His lips curved into a carnal grin. "Why?"

  She hadn't expected him to ask. "Because you're…"

  "Yes?"

  She shrugged. "Never mind."

  He leaned b
ack in his chair, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. "I

  went to the hotel and they wouldn't tell me if you'd checked back in. When I didn't see

  your car there, I took a chance you might be with Grant at the campground. When I

  went there no one was home."

  Was he crazy? "What are you trying to do? Start another fight with Grant?"

  He straightened in his chair, his eyes as stormy as thunderheads in an approaching

  storm. "I wasn't the one who started the first fight."

  She clutched her hands together in her lap and then relaxed them. "If he'd been

  there who knows how he would have reacted? Don't you think it would be wise for you

  to stay clear of him? If provoked he might press charges against you."

  "Would that bother you? Or would you like to see me behind bars and Charlie in

  the pound?"

  "Of course not. Besides, Charlie was only doing what any good, loyal dog would do

  for its master."

  He didn't look pacified. "How would you feel about Grant's ass being tossed into

  jail?"

  "I thought you said you weren't pressing charges?"

  "I'm not. I'm asking how you'd feel about it."

  She fessed up. "I'd be pleased. Sometimes I think he needs to be taught a lesson.

  Way too many times he's acted like a spoiled child."

  The waitress appeared at that moment with her beer, and Emma immediately took

  a swallow. The semi-bitter taste of the cold drink tasted good on her dry tongue. Maybe

  the alcohol would calm her sudden jitters.

  Shane stood abruptly. "Come on. Let's go in the bar."

  She frowned. "Why?"

  "I like the music."

  Bemused, and not ready to end the conversation, she followed him into the dimly

  lit bar. He found a small, secluded booth in the back.

  Smoke drifted around the room and her nose twitched. She didn't care to suck in

  cigarette fumes. Like the restaurant area, the bar was crowded, and several people

  strutted to a line dance on the small dance floor. When she settled on one side of the

  booth, he slipped in beside her. He sat excessively close, his proximity enough to send

  little explosions of awareness along her nerves. She shifted, putting more space between

  them.

  "What time did you go to the campground?" she asked.

  "I just came from there."

  "I stopped there earlier, but Grant wasn't around then either." She gazed into the