by Nora Roberts
“Sorry.” She wasn’t sure why she whispered—it just seemed the reasonable thing to do. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve got to get started.”
He kept her close, only lifted her hand, turning her wrist to look at the luminous dial of her watch. “Yeah, I guess we both do. In a couple minutes.”
Before she could react he rolled over, and was inside her.
He took his time. After that first shock of possession, he went slow. Long, lazy strokes that left her both weak and giddy. Helpless she floated up, felt herself all but shimmer. Pressing her face to the side of his throat, she let go.
She sighed, lingering longer than was wise.
“I guess I owe you breakfast.”
“I never argue with breakfast.”
She made herself turn away, made the effort to keep her voice light. “I’ll go start the coffee if you want to grab the shower first.”
“Sure.”
She grabbed a robe, pulling it on as she hurried out.
She avoided looking at herself in the mirror and concentrated on the practicalities. Strong black coffee and what she thought of as a full farm breakfast. Maybe she didn’t have any appetite, but she would damn well eat. No one would know she was sick with love. Again.
Better to focus on the positive, she reminded herself. She’d gotten more rest in four hours than she’d had in days. And surely that buzzing sexual tension between her and Coop would diminish now.
The deed was done. They’d both survived. They’d both move on.
Bacon sizzled in the cast-iron skillet while she warmed biscuits in the oven. He liked his eggs over easy, she remembered. At least he had.
By the time he came down, smelling of her soap, she was breaking eggs into the pan. He poured his coffee, topped her mug off, then leaned against the counter and watched her.
“What?”
“You look good. It’s nice to look at you over my morning coffee.” He glanced at the bacon she had draining, then the hash browns sizzling with the eggs. “Guess you’re hungry.”
“I figured I owed you the full shot.”
“I appreciate the breakfast, but I’m not looking for payment.”
“All the same. Anyway, I hope I can get that alarm system installed soon. I can’t expect people to keep guarding the place like it was Fort Apache. Everyone’s got their own to see to, including you.”
“Look at me.”
She glanced over as she flipped the eggs. “Why don’t you sit down? This is about ready.”
“If you’re thinking about stepping back, think again.”
With hands remarkably steady, she scooped out the hash browns. “Sex isn’t a ball and chain, Coop. I step where I want.”
“No, you don’t. Not anymore.”
“Anymore? I never—” She put up a hand as if to stop herself. “I’m not getting into this. I’ve got too much to deal with today.”
“It’s not going away, Lil, and neither am I.”
“You were gone for over ten years. You’ve been back for a few months. Do you think, really think, everything just picks up where you want it to, for as long as you want it?”
“Do you want to hear what I think and what I want? Are you ready to hear it?”
“No, actually, I don’t, and I’m not.” She didn’t think her heart could bear it. Not now. “I’m not interested in a discussion, debate, or rehash. We can be friends, or you can push until we’re not. That’s up to you. If what happened between us ruins our friendship, Cooper, I’ll be sorry. Really sorry.”
“I’m not looking for a fuck buddy, Lil.”
She let out a breath. “Okay, then.”
He took a step toward her, she took one back. And the door opened.
“’Morning. I wanted to let you know . . .” Gull wasn’t the quickest off the mark, but even he could sense bad timing. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re not,” Lil said quickly. “In fact, you’re right on time. Coop was about to have breakfast. You can keep him company and have some yourself.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to—”
“Grab some coffee.” She began dishing up two plates. “I’ve got to go up and get dressed. Everybody okay out there?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Um . . .”
“Have a seat and dig in. I’ll be back down in a few minutes.” She picked up her coffee, walked out without looking back.
Gull cleared his throat. “Sorry, boss.”
“Not your fault,” Coop muttered.
17
She didn’t come back down in a few minutes. In fact, she didn’t go back to the kitchen at all. She showered, dressed, then let herself out the front of the cabin.
Avoidance? No question, Lil admitted. But she couldn’t afford to bog down her mind, her heart, her spirit. The interns were her full responsibility until Tansy got back—and when she did, they’d have another cat.
She kept herself busy checking the temporary enclosure and working with the crew on the permanent habitat.
Sunny skies and rising temperatures meant she could work in shirt-sleeves for a change. It also meant more snowmelt, more mud. As fickle March headed for capricious April, the dawning of spring would bring more patrons—and more on-site donations.
For her morning break, she visited Baby, pleasing them both with a long play period with lots of scratching, rubbing, and petting.
“I swear, that one’s just a big house cat.” Mary shook her head as Lil came out of the enclosure, double-checked the locks. “Less arrogant than my tabby, come to it.”
“Your tabby couldn’t rip out your jugular if he turned.”
“Got me there. Can’t see that one turning. He’s been a sweetheart since day one. Pretty day, isn’t it?” With her hands on her hips, Mary turned her face up to the bold blue of the sky. “I got bulbs sprouting up in my yard. Crocus blooming, too.”
“I’m ready for spring. Good and ready.”
Lil took the path around, wanting to check all the animals. Mary fell into step beside her.
In their yard, the bobcats rolled and wrestled together like a couple of boys on holiday, while perched in her tree, the lynx watched them with what might have been disdain.
“I know the jaguar and the new security system are going to take a big bite out of the budget. We’re okay, aren’t we, Mary?”
“We’re okay. Donations were a little slow this winter, except for that whopper Coop gave us. That one put us far and away over last year’s first quarter.”
“Now we worry about the second quarter.”
“Lucius and I are brainstorming on some fundraising ploys. And we’ll start clicking along here with the warmer weather.”
“I’m worried the trouble we’ve been having will keep people away, and cut hard into entrance fees and on-site donations. Word gets around.” Reality, Lil knew, came in dollars and cents. “We’ll have two new animals, with Xena and Cleo, to feed, house, and care for. I’d hoped to be able to hire at least a part-time veterinary assistant for Matt this summer. I’m not sure we’ll be able to stretch the budget for it now.”
“Willy needs to catch that son of a bitch, and soon. Matt’s overworked, but so is everybody else around here. That’s the way it is. We’re okay, Lil, and we’re going to stay okay. Now, how are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Well, if you ask me—which you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway—you look stressed. And speaking of overworked, what you need is a day off. A real day off. And a date.”
“A date?”
“Yes, a date.” Clearly exasperated, Mary rolled her eyes. “You remember what a date is. Dinner, the movies, dancing. You haven’t taken a full day off since you got back, and however much you enjoyed that trip to South America, I know you worked every damn day there, too.”
“I like to work.”
“That may be, but a day off and a date would do you good. You ought to get your ma and drive into Rapid City for the day. Do some shopping, get your
nails done, then come back and have that good-looking Cooper Sullivan buy you a steak dinner, take you dancing, then parking afterward.”
“Mary.”
“If I were thirty years younger and single, I’d damn well see to it he bought me a steak dinner, and the rest of it.” Mary gave Lil a hard, somewhat impatient squeeze. “I worry about you, honey.”
“Don’t. Don’t worry.”
“Take a day off. Well, break’s over.” She checked her watch. “Tansy and Farley ought to be rolling up in a couple hours. Then we’ll have some excitement.”
She didn’t want a day off, Lil thought when Mary walked away. She didn’t want to go shopping—very much. Or to get her nails done. She looked at her nails, winced. Okay, maybe she could use a manicure, but she didn’t have any lectures, appearances, or events scheduled. No fundraising drums to beat. When she needed to, she cleaned up very well.
And if she wanted a steak dinner, she could buy her own. The last thing she needed was a date with Coop, which would complicate a situation she’d already complicated with sex.
Completely her fault, she admitted.
He’d been right about one thing that morning. She had to deal with it.
Why hadn’t she made that list?
She stopped in front of the tiger’s enclosure. He lay at the entrance of his den, eyes half shut. Not dozing, not yet, Lil thought. His tail switched lazily, and Lil could see awareness in those slitted eyes.
“Not still mad at me, are you?” Lil leaned on the rail, watched Boris’s ears flick. “I had to do it. I don’t want anything to happen to you, or for anything to happen because of you. Not our fault, Boris, but we’d be responsible.”
Boris made a rumbling that sounded so much like reluctant agreement, Lil smiled. “You’re beautiful. Big, beautiful boy.” Lil let out a sigh. “I guess my break’s over, too.”
She straightened to stare out across the enclosures, the trees, the hills. And she thought it didn’t seem as if there could be a thing wrong in the world on a day like this.
HE MUNCHED ON his second Ho Ho. He could live off the land, but didn’t see any reason to deny himself a few pleasures from the Outside. In any case, he’d stolen the box of snack cakes from a campsite, so technically he was living off the land as he ate them. He’d also confiscated a bag of potato rolls and a six-pack of Heineken.
He limited himself to one beer every two days. A hunter couldn’t let alcohol slow his brain, even for an hour. So he only drank the single beer at bedtime.
Drinking had been his weak spot—he could admit it—just like it had been his daddy’s. Just, as his daddy had often said, like it was for their people. Liquor was only one more weapon the white man had used against them.
Drinking had gotten him in trouble, brought him to the attention of the white man’s law.
But he did love the taste of a cold beer.
He wouldn’t deny himself. He would simply control himself.
He’d learned that on his own. Of all the things his father had taught him, control hadn’t been one of them.
It was a matter of control, he thought. Just as letting the campers live had been a matter of control, and power. Killing them would have been fish-in-barrel time, and that wasn’t worth his skill. He had considered killing three of the four, then hunting down the last.
It never hurt to practice.
But taking out four campers would have the cops and rangers covering the hills like ants. Not that he couldn’t evade them, as his forefathers had for so long. One day he would be a one-man war party, hunting and killing those who desecrated the land at his whim and his will.
One day they would speak his name with fear and reverence.
But for now he had bigger fish to fry, fish that weren’t in the barrel.
He took out his field glasses to scan the compound below. His pride still surged from his observation of the guards placed around the perimeters through the night.
Because of him.
His prey scented him, and feared. Nothing he’d done before had given him such satisfaction.
How easy, and how exciting, it would have been to have taken them out. All of them. Moving silent as a ghost, slitting throats, one by one, blood warm and wet on his hands.
All that game bagged in one night.
And what would his prize have felt in the morning, when she’d come out of the cabin to see the carnage he’d left behind?
Would she have run, run screaming in terror?
He loved it when they ran, when they screamed. And more, when they had no breath left to scream.
But he’d snapped control firmly into place. It wasn’t time.
He could send her a message, he considered. Yes, he could. Something that made it very personal. The more there was at stake, the deeper the competition when the time came.
He didn’t just want her fear—fear was easy to come by.
He watched her for another moment as she crossed the compound toward the cabin that held the offices.
No, not just her fear, he thought, lowering the glasses, licking chocolate off his fingers. He wanted her involved as none of the others had been. As none of the others had deserved.
He turned away, and hitching his pack on his shoulders, began a circular hike back to his den, whistling a tune.
When the lone hiker, puffing a bit, crossed his path, he smiled.
“Lost?” he asked.
“No. Not exactly. Glad to see a friendly face, though. I was on Crow Peak, heading toward the summit. I think I got off the mark a little.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his belt harness. “I guess I should’ve stuck with one of the easier trails. It’s been a while.”
“Mmm-hmm.” This one looked healthy enough, fit enough. And lost, just enough. “You’re making the trip alone?”
“Yeah. The wife headed back at the junction. I’da done the same except she said I couldn’t do the seven miles. You know how it is. Gotta prove them wrong.”
“I’m heading that way myself. I can get you back on track.”
“That’d be great. Wouldn’t mind the company either. Jim Tyler,” he said, offering a hand. “From St. Paul.”
“Ethan Swift Cat.”
“Nice to meet you. You from around here?”
“That’s right, I’m from around.”
He started off, leading Jim Tyler from St. Paul farther off the trail, away from the blazes on pines, the signs, the posts, and deeper into the wilderness. He kept the pace moderate. Didn’t want to wear Jim out before the games began. He watched for signs of others, and listened to the man talk about his wife, his kids, his business—real estate—back in St. Paul.
He pointed out tracks to keep the man entertained, waited while Jim took pictures with a nice little digital Canon.
“You’re better than my guidebook,” Jim said with real pleasure. “Wait until I show off these pictures, and my wife sees what she missed. I’m lucky I ran into you.”
“Lucky.” He gave Jim a big smile as he pulled out his revolver.
“Run, rabbit,” he said, grinning. “Run.”
LIL RUSHED OUT of the cabin when Farley pulled in. Staff, volunteers, interns dropped what they were doing to hurry over. Before Farley came to a full stop, Lil boosted herself onto the running board on Tansy’s side and grinned at her friend.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine. Good. She’s getting a little restless back there. As if she knew we were getting close. You’re going to be very happy with her, Lil. She’s a beauty.”
“You have all her medical records?” Matt asked her.
“Yeah, and I spoke with her vet personally. She’s got a clean bill of health. She’d had some intestinal problems a few months ago. Her owner liked to feed her chocolate truffles—I swear. Godiva truffles, and Beluga caviar on special occasions. Apparently Cleo’s very fond of dark chocolate with hazelnut filling, and caviar on lightly browned toast points.”
“Good God,” was Matt’s response.
> “She’s left the high life, but I think she’ll adjust.” Lil forced herself not to climb right on in and take a look. “Take her on over to the temporary, Farley. Let’s get her out of the cage, and into her new home. I bet she’d like to stretch her legs.”
She glanced over to where two of the interns continued a tour for a small group. “Annie,” she said to the young woman at her shoulder. “Why don’t you go tell that group to head over toward the enclosure. This should be a real treat for them.”
She rode with them, standing on the running board. “We were expecting you about an hour ago,” she commented.
Tansy shifted in her seat. “We, ah, left a little later than we’d planned.”
“No problems?”
“No. No.” Tansy stared straight ahead. “No problems. Cleo handled the drive just fine. Slept through most of it. I’ve got all the paperwork if you want to go over it after she’s settled.”
Lil’s first look at the cat took her breath away. Sleek, muscular, her eyes tawny glints, Cleo sat in her travel cage like royalty on a throne.
She eyed the humans, with what struck Lil as a gaze of pure superiority, and let out her coughing roar in case they didn’t fully understand who was boss.
Lil approached the cage so the jaguar could get her scent. “Hello, Cleo. Yes, you’re gorgeous. Strong, powerful, and you know it. But I’m alpha here. No more Godivas or poodles on the menu.”
The cat tracked her with those exotic eyes as she circled. “Let’s get her out. Keep your hands away from the bars. Her favored killing method may be to pierce the skull, but she won’t quibble at taking a good swipe of a careless hand or arm. I don’t want any trips to the infirmary. And don’t let her taste for chocolate fool you. She’s got powerful jaws, arguably the most powerful of all felids.”
They lowered the cage by the lift, and as the tourist group took snapshots, positioned it at the entrance to the enclosure.
Cleo grumbled in her throat, displeased, Lil concluded, with the crowd, the scent of them, the scent of other animals. Across the compound the lion roared.
Lil lifted the cage door, locked it open, stepped back.