He dodged another blow and felt around for the gearshift. He bumped the lever for the wipers and they sped up, squeaking as they swiped at the rain. “Can you beat me up later? We have to get outta here. There’s a fucking maniac running around out there.”
Her fist stopped mid-flight. “Oh. Oh, God.” She pushed open the passenger side door and jumped out before he could snag her jacket.
“Dammit.” He slammed a hand into the steering wheel and shoved open his door, catching the sleeve of her slicker. She shook out of the coat and kept going, rain soaking her diner uniform, pasting the polo shirt to her breasts as she skidded down the hill.
“Pru!” He tossed the coat aside and went after her. “Jesus, are you insane? Get back in the car.”
She ignored him. “Wade! Wade, you come here this instant. God, your brother’s going to kill me. Wade!”
Alex skidded to a halt beside her and watched the Hulk’s shoulders stiffen, then fold in as he dropped his head like a chastised child. “You know that maniac?”
“Don’t call him that. Wade,” she said again and the huge man approached in reluctant, shuffling steps. She pointed at the Jeep. “You are in so much trouble. In the car. Now!”
Wade obeyed, but glared daggers at Alex as he passed.
Once Wade was safely in the car, she whirled and poked a finger at Alex’s chest. “What exactly are you doing out here in a storm, in a tent, in the middle of October? Are you out of your flippin’ mind?”
He opened his mouth to reply. She cut him off with an impatient gesture. “Don’t answer that. Get your stuff, get in your car, and follow me.” She stalked toward her Jeep, rain plastering her hair to her head.
Alex watched her go, feeling small and put in his place. Admiration mixed with lust—a dangerous concoction. He usually tried to avoid women he admired when it came to sex. Too complicated. If he admired them, respected them, it made it harder to walk away unscathed.
He shouldn’t be so turned on by her temper. No doubt she’d skin him once they got someplace dry and warm, and yet he was so eager to follow he tripped over his own feet trying to get his stuff packed up.
Yup, no doubt about it. He was a masochist in every sense of the word.
***
God save her from testosterone!
Pru fumed as she navigated the hill to the lighthouse, her fingers opening and closing around the steering wheel. Wade, she’d deal with. His outbursts weren’t entirely his fault. He just wasn’t smart enough to control his impulses. But Alex—sneaking up behind her, ordering her around like he had a right? She should have left him on the beach to face the storm like the idiot macho man he thought he was. Serve him right to let Mother Nature have a go at him. Except Wade had destroyed his tent and, even as satisfying as it would have been, she couldn’t wittingly leave him without shelter.
“Damn that man,” she muttered. It was becoming a mantra when it came to Alex.
Behind her, the lights of his ostentatious Lexus bounced over the unpaved road. If she looked hard enough, she could see an outline of his broad shoulders and square face behind the steering wheel.
Strange that he would drive a Lexus. He didn’t strike her as the type. Too flashy. Then again, she didn’t really know him, did she? He could come off as modest and low key at first, but then turn out to be exactly like her ex, Owen. Arrogant and fussy, always worried about the bottom line.
Ugh. Owen, the presumptuous ass, made her head hurt. She shoved him out of her mind and glanced in the rear-view again.
Wade, hunkered in the backseat, lifted his miserable gaze to meet hers in the mirror. “I’m in trouble.”
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Why did you attack Alex?”
“The Green Lady told me to.”
She nearly swerved off the road in a knee-jerk reaction. “What?” She straightened the car and shook her head. “Wade. Tell me the truth.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was your friend,” he said, his eyes widening and filling with tears. He had a streak of mud down the side of his face that smeared when he wiped away the tears with his sleeve. “I thought he was trespassing. She said he was trespassing and Dad doesn’t like trespassers!”
Technically, Alex had been trespassing, but that was beside the point.
“Okay, it’s all right,” she said. “But do you remember the last time you went after someone?”
He stared down at his lap. “I got put in jail ‘cause I hit Rhett with a chair at Buzzy’s. He needed to get hit, but they put me in jail anyway. I didn’t like it.”
“Right.” Pru used the turn signal for Alex’s benefit, since the turn off could be hard to see, and steered the Jeep into her driveway. She wondered if Alex’s city car would make it up the steep hill in this rain or if she’d end up pulling him out of the ditch. She checked the rear-view. He seemed to be doing all right, so she turned her attention back to the conversation.
“You can’t go after people like that, Wade. No matter who tells you to. You could hurt someone bad and then you’ll go back to jail for a long time.”
His lower lip trembled. “Do you have to tell J.J.?”
“Yes.” He looked so miserable that she added, “In the morning. We’ll just let everyone get some sleep tonight.” And it’d give her time to talk Alex out of pressing charges. Maybe. Hopefully. She’d just explain Wade’s situation and if Alex was as reasonable as she thought, they could brush the whole matter under the carpet and forget about it. Of course, John Jr. wasn’t going to want Wade living in the carriage house anymore, but one mistake shouldn’t condemn him. He enjoyed the freedom of having his own place, liked having Triton to play with and lots of room to wander. It’d be a shame to take that joy away from him. If she could convince John that Alex wasn’t upset about it, maybe—
“Hey, look!” Wade said and pointed from the backseat as the Jeep chugged up the last incline, cleared the trees, and the lighthouse rose into view. The beacon flashed its intense white light over the yard at twenty-second intervals as expected, but every light in the house also blazed as if in welcome. The front door hung wide open, banging into the side of the house in the wind. Triton paced the porch with his head hung low and his tail tucked between his legs.
“Triton’s scared,” Wade said.
“Aw, poor pup.” Pru tried to smile for Wade’s sake. “The storm probably frightened him.” But that didn’t explain why he wasn’t in the house. Or why the lights were on and the door open when she’d left it dark and locked.
She parked the Jeep and turned in her seat. The carriage house loomed on the right side of the property, dark and silent. At least that seemed untouched. “I want you to go home, get cleaned up, and go to bed. No wandering around tonight, got it?”
Wade nodded.
“And you need to apologize to Alex.”
He stuck out his lower lip in protest, but then nodded again.
She watched from her seat as he trudged toward the Lexus. Alex stiffened behind the wheel for an instant, then his door opened. He climbed out. Wade said something. He replied and held out a hand. They shook.
Pru let out the breath caught in her throat and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel as relief washed through her. Maybe Alex wouldn’t press charges after all. Small miracle.
A knuckle tapped on her window. She looked at Alex, standing in the rain with a duffle bag on his shoulder, covered from head to toe in mud, a good bruise darkening the side of his jaw, a half-grin on his face.
Dammit if her heart didn’t melt a little more, soothing the rougher edges of her irritation.
She opened the door and got out. “Thanks for being nice to him.”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t exactly Wade’s fault. I was trespassing.” He spotted the sunflower, still stuffed between the seats in its plastic vase, and his smile widened.
Embarrassed heat crawled up the back of her neck. She slammed the car door with a little more force than necessary and started toward the front porch. “We shoul
d get inside.”
Alex hitched his chin at the brightly lit house. “Not worried about the electric bill, I see.”
“It’s The Green Lady. Usually it’s just one or two lights, but she must be in a playful mood tonight. Probably the energy from the storm revving her up.”
“The ghost turned on your lights?” He stopped walking to stare at the house, then sprinted across the yard to catch up to her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Hmm. She’s a bit of a practical joker. It’s funny when you’re dead and don’t have to pay the bills.”
When her foot hit the bottom step of the porch, Triton launched himself into her arms. She staggered back, landing against Alex’s solid chest. Sexual heat flared at the contact, warming away the chill that the rain had pounded into her bones.
“Whoa.” He caught her hips and righted her after a charged moment of having her backside pressed against his front, the pause too long to have been anything but deliberate.
Face flaming, she led the way inside the house and left him to shut the door behind them. She refused to let him see the blush and busied herself with turning out some of the lights. He made enough passes at her as it was already and certainly didn’t need any more encouragement judging by the bulge she’d felt press into her lower back.
Besides, she wasn’t completely done being mad at him yet and arousal tended to put the lid on a good head of steam.
The idiot, she reminded herself, had set up camp in the middle of an October storm. He’d frightened her half to death by creeping up on her. Bossed her around, manhandled her. Ugh, the jerk!
Whew. Better. Irritation was so much easier to deal with than the fire-hot spark of attraction that made her insides quiver and had her wanting to do things with him that had to be illegal somewhere.
She whirled around, using Triton like a barrier, and jabbed at Alex’s chest. “So just what were you doing camping on my land in the middle of a storm?”
He stared down at her finger pressed to his solar plexus, his lip twitching as if holding back a smile. “I like camping.”
“It’s freezing out.”
“I’ve slept in worse conditions.” His tone picked up an edge, a hint of darkness, and the smile vanished.
Interest dampened her anger. She dropped her hand. “You have?”
“I’ve camped a lot of places.”
Maybe so, but no camping trip put that much regret in his eyes. She burned with curiosity, but bit back the questions. Now was not the time. The rain had soaked them both to the bone and they needed warm, dry clothes. Perhaps a cup or two of coffee. Then she’d ask.
Pru set Triton on the floor. The dog stayed pressed up against her legs as she headed for the stairs. “Since Wade destroyed your tent, you can stay here for the night. I’ll show you to one of the finished guest rooms. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall on the right and there’s fresh linens in the closet if you want to clean up.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Alex followed her up the stairs, but paused on the landing to study the old photograph hanging there. He tapped the gilded frame with his knuckle. “Your alleged ghost?”
“That’s her. Lovie True.”
He leaned closer to the portrait, squinting at Lovie’s face. The young woman wore a wedding dress and veil that partially obscured her dark eyes as she gazed over her right shoulder at the photographer. Pru had always thought the touch of a smile on Lovie’s lips was captivating and often found herself stopping on the stairway to study it.
Alex stepped back and shook himself like he was coming out of a bad dream. “Well, it’s creepy all right. I’ll give ya that.”
He took two steps at a time to stand on the stair beside her, so close that she could feel the winter chill in his wet clothing and the heat radiating from his body underneath. The man was like a furnace and she itched to run her hands up under his soaked T-shirt. He should be steaming right now.
“Oh, that’s right,” she said, sounding breathless. She mentally kicked herself for it. “You’re a non-believer.”
“Ghosts don’t exist.”
“So you say.”
Their eyes locked for a defiant second. His irises were such a deep, dark gray in the shadows of the stairway that they seemed to go on for miles, right down into the very pit of his soul. She saw the skepticism there. She also saw something else that made her breath catch. No mistaking it. Heat and lust.
Although chilly drafts stole into the stairway from the house’s old windows, warmth crept up the back of her neck, spread over her breasts and pooled low in her belly. Her gaze settled on his mouth. Typical lips for a man. Maybe a little too thin and hard, but she found them enticing, especially when he gave a slow, knee-melting smile like the one spreading over his mouth now.
She sucked in a breath. Forced herself to look away. How could he turn her on like this without even laying a hand on her? Not good.
Yeah, right, girl. It would be so, so good. Probably the best ever.
She clamped down on the rebellious thoughts. That wildcat libido tugged on its chain again, but she refused to let it off leash. God, imagine the consequences. Dangerous territory.
Behind her, Alex laughed low in his throat and followed her up the rest of the stairs. The sound reminded her of velvety chocolate and brought on a rush of arousal.
“I think I’ll shower,” he said. She imagined he used that same velvet-chocolate voice in bed and almost groaned. The mental image of him in the shower, hot water and soap bubbles sluicing his body—pure torment.
She swallowed hard and gestured to the end of the hall. “Bathroom’s down there.”
He didn’t move. “Care to join me?”
Yes, yes, yes! Her body all but shrieked it. Her mind said, are you stupid? She gave a breathless laugh. “So much for subtlety.”
“Subtlety’s a waste of time. The more direct, the better.”
“And I appreciate that. But, ah, it’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t have bad ideas.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips along her hairline. His tongue traced the curve of her ear, a light caress, just enough to make her shiver. Her nipples peaked, her belly clenched.
“Door will be open if you change your mind,” he murmured in her ear.
He left her standing in the middle of the hallway, panting and wet and wanting more than that fleeting caress of his tongue. What would it hurt? People have one night stands all the time. Okay, so she’d never been one of those people, but maybe it was time she change that. She took two steps toward the bathroom before she caught herself.
Dammit, no.
She jammed her hands through her drying hair and whirled away, stalked back downstairs. She had no time for such a relentless, incorrigible, overconfident man. Who also happened to be sexy as all get-out.
Feeling eyes on the back of her head, Pru stopped on the landing. Lovie True’s smile seemed broader and directed right at her. Upstairs, a rich tenor thrummed under the sound of running water.
Was he singing?
Yes, he was. Not very loud, but sound carried in the old house. She laughed, softening toward him a little more until she recognized the song. Bad Company’s Feel Like Making Love.
Oh, boy.
Face hot, Pru tried not to wonder if he’d left the door open as promised.
***
The old, cast iron, claw-foot tub was charming and, Alex noticed, the perfect size for bathtub sex.
Nice. He filed that idea away for later use.
He had to bend to fit under the showerhead and the bathroom walls were too far away to lean against as he did at home. Still, after bathing in freezing ocean water for the past two days, the hot shower felt excellent.
Pleased, Alex stood in the spray, letting the near-scalding water beat his chest, and hummed to himself. He’d crawled into his tent expecting to weather another cold, wet, miserable night. Instead, here he was in Pru’s shower with the strawberry scent of her hair—he knew it was strawberry because he’d
shamelessly snooped through all her girly soaps, lotions, and perfumes on the vanity—still in his nose.
He should send Hulk a gift basket to thank him for that weird little freak-out.
Singing softly, Alex grabbed his travel-sized bottle of shampoo, squeezed some into his hair, which was in bad need of a barber, and thought about Pru. How angry she’d been at him for scaring her, the stiffness of her spine as she showed him the house, and how she’d started melting right there on the stairs with the slightest nudge. He hadn’t even done it on purpose.
Well, sort of hadn’t.
The sexual buzz was just there between them and felt as natural and comfortable as an old pair of slippers. If she stopped resisting, she’d feel the rightness of it too.
But then, hell, what would be the fun in that?
He grinned and tilted his head forward to rinse the suds from his hair. The thrill of the chase was the second best part of sex.
No doubt she’d use this time alone to rebuild her defenses against him. Fine with him. He’d been a good soldier in his day and infiltration was one of his specialties. He’d find the weak spots in her armor soon enough, then he’d make her melt again. And again. And again. All night long.
His cock hardened. He gave it a couple lingering strokes and thought of Pru’s lush ass, right at eye level as she ascended the stairs in front of him. Talk about torture. It had taken every fiber of self-control he possessed not to reach out, cup that luscious rump, and bury his face in the deep curve of her lower back. He couldn't wait to get that woman into bed and fill his hands and mouth with her bare flesh. His erection jerked in his hand, weeping with excitement. Squeezing, he imagined his palm was the tight grip of her body. Ah, torture.
God, it would be so good. He could almost taste her, feel her sumptuous curves pressed against his body, her slick heat sucking at him as he thrust—
The bathroom door squeaked.
Alex froze, cock in hand, his heart pounding hard in his ears. Footsteps padded across the old wood floor.
Had Pru changed her mind? Oh, please, let her have changed her mind. He’d rather not take care of this raging boner by himself. He held his breath, waiting for the shower curtain to slide open and Pru to step under the spray.
Vision of Darkness (D.I.E. Squadron Book 1) Page 6