He knew the way she liked it, too.
Pulling away from her grip, he nudged her legs open with his knee. He settled one hand on each of her inner thighs, spreading them apart, his calluses rasping against her silky skin. She curled her good arm beneath her head to watch him. She liked that part, too.
Locking his gaze onto her smoky blue eyes, he kissed her navel and her abdomen, softer now after the birth of Travis. He licked one hip bone and nibbled the other. He trailed lower, alternating between licks, bites and kisses. A different sound for each assault puffed from her lips.
Then he slid the tip of his tongue down lower still and she moaned, a deep, dark sound of need. Her musky, sweet flavor filled his mouth and he drank deeply. He teased her with his tongue and suckled with his lips until her head thrashed on the pillow and she whimpered, breathless and on the edge. His for the taking.
After burrowing into her creamy wetness with his mouth, he pulled back. She cried out and dug her heels into his buttocks, riding him, urging him onward. He blew gently on her heated flesh. She gasped. One flick of his tongue. Two flicks. She pulsed and throbbed beneath his exquisite torture.
Three flicks. Back and forth and back. Her hips rose slowly and his mouth followed, never leaving his own private banquet. She squirmed beneath him, but he dug his fingers into her rounded hips.
Once athletic and angular, Meg’s body now curved in all the right places. Pregnancy and motherhood had smoothed all her sharp edges. Her new femininity drove him mad with passion. His erection ached heavy and hard between his legs. But he had a job to finish. And he never left a job undone.
Four flicks. Back and forth and back and forth. The final flick did the trick. Her pelvis bucked once, and then she exploded. She rocked against him in a rhythmic motion, seeking contact. He slid two fingers inside her wet passage and she closed around him. Then he moved up her body and kissed her slack mouth as she melted beneath him.
He kissed her bandage. “Okay?”
She wrapped her legs around his hips in answer. He didn’t need to use his hand to guide himself inside her honeyed walls. He knew the way by heart. He slid inside, the coil in his belly tightening as he felt her heat swallow him inch by inch.
They moved together, their bodies singing the same melody—no, not the same. His body sang the melody and hers complemented it with a sweet harmony, completing the song, completing him.
He rose on his elbows to stare into her face, the face he’d memorized and never forgotten, not for one second. He drove harder and she matched him, raising her hips to meet him, their bodies sealing against each other again and again. Only to come apart.
His climax came hard, hot and long. He wanted to spill into her, plant his seed, make another baby. One she couldn’t keep from him.
SMILING, MEG TRAILED a hand between her breasts, the sweat slick on her cooling skin. Ian appeared in the doorway, filling it with his impressive frame…impressive, naked frame.
She extended her arm and wiggled her fingers. “Come here.”
“Do you want your water?” He held out a glass as he crossed into the room.
“I want you.”
“You just had me, lock, stock and barrel.”
“I remember the lock and even the stock, but I’m not sure about the barrel.” A tingle rushed down her legs, curling her toes. “Can I have the barrel, too?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, placing the glass next to the lamp that cast a soft glow over his forearm, corded with tight, tense muscle. “How’s your shoulder?”
“I forgot all about it.” She crinkled her forehead, wondering why Ian hadn’t jumped back into bed with her. She patted the place beside her and then smoothed the bedspread, suddenly unsure of herself. “A-are you coming back to bed?”
He dipped down and pulled on his boxers. “It’s late, Meg. Or rather, it’s early in the morning. Won’t Travis be waking up soon?”
“Probably.” She pulled the covers up to her chin.
“I know I’ve been a father for just a few days, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for Travis to find me in your bed. It’s too fast.”
Ouch. Meg fisted her hands in the sheets. He’d taken a shot and hit the bull’s eye. “Well, your parental instincts are good, and your blanket is still on the couch.”
He scooped up his clothes. “How’s Matt doing? Did he regain consciousness?”
“Enough to give Pete absolutely no information.” She gulped her water to wash down the lump in her throat.
“And how about you? Did he give you any information?”
She licked her lips, washing away the last traces of Ian’s kisses. “He told me to run, then he conked out.”
Ian stopped at the door and whipped around, hugging his clothes to his chest. “What? He told you to run?”
At least she’d spiked his interest in her again. Is that all it took? A little danger? She snuggled back against her pillow. “I think he was delirious.”
“Why would the terrorists come after Matt, and why would Matt think you were in danger?”
“I don’t know.” Meg stifled a yawn. Fear had been her constant companion these past two days, and now fatigue wanted in on the party. “I need some sleep. It’s going to be a long day at work tomorrow, with Matt in the hospital.”
“It’s going to be a long day at work for me tomorrow, too. I’m going back to that spot in the gorge.”
That woke her up like a slap in the face. “You are?”
“The case has to be there. Why else would our friend be guarding that area like a mama grizzly with her cub?”
“But he must not know where it is, or else he’d grab it and go. What’s he waiting for? Why is he stabbing local tour guides and strangling tourists?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” He slipped through the door and paused on the threshold. “Good night, Meg. It was…I was…” He closed the door.
Meg slumped against the pillows. It was…he was…totally amazing. What just happened? She bit her lip and turned out the light. She punched her pillow. She knew.
No matter how torrid the kisses, no matter how urgent the touches, no matter how hot the sex, Ian couldn’t forgive her for Travis.
MEG WOKE UP with her arms wrapped around her pillow. She tossed the poor, lumpy substitute for Ian across the floor and rolled to an upright position.
She fingered the bandage on her shoulder. Felt like she’d banged it into a wall, nothing like what she’d imagined a gunshot wound would feel like. But then the bullet had only grazed her, skimming off a little bit of her flesh. Heck, she’d had worse injuries banging against the side of a sheer rock face.
Stretching the arm in front of her, she wiggled her fingers and bent her elbow—all parts in working order. Her nostrils twitched at the smell of waffles and coffee. She struggled out of the tangled covers and snagged her robe from a hook on the back of the bedroom door.
She peeked into Travis’s room on her way to the kitchen. She doubted her two-year-old son would’ve been traumatized by finding a man in his Mom’s bed, but maybe father did know best. It would’ve been a first for Travis, since Meg hadn’t had a man in her bed, or anywhere else, since her separation from Ian.
“You found the waffles.” She wedged a shoulder against the fridge and watched Ian navigate the coffeemaker.
“Hope you don’t mind.” He forked one and dropped it onto an empty plate. “You mentioned yesterday you had some more frozen, so I rummaged around your freezer. I pulled out a couple for you and Travis, too.”
She pressed her lips together. He’d rummaged around her body last night, why would she care about an appliance? “No problem, and thanks for thinking of us.”
Thanks for thinking of us? She sounded like one of those twits from her sister’s debutante balls.
He turned with a plate in his hand. “Take this one. I’ll put another in the microwave for myself. How’s your shoulder?”
“It feels bruised mostly.” She took the pl
ate from him and squeezed a dribble of syrup on the waffle. “It’s really not that bad.”
“But you’re not leading any hikes.”
Meg opened her mouth, ready to argue with him just because his statement sounded so much like a command. She closed it around a bite of sticky waffle and shook her head. “With Matt down and out and me not one hundred percent, I have a feeling we’re going to be canceling a lot of hikes.”
“Good, because I’m going to be out there on my own today.”
She swallowed. “You really think the device is in that gorge?”
“I’m positive. Your shooter wouldn’t be protecting it otherwise.”
“What do you think is in the case, Ian?” She drew patterns in the syrup with the tines of her fork. He’d always shut her down in the past when she’d asked questions about his work. She didn’t dare look at him now. “Could it be a danger to Crestline?”
“I don’t think so.” Drawing his brows together, he spread butter on his waffle and then sliced it in two. “Our sources indicate it’s a device, not a full-fledged weapon, but something very necessary to complete the arming of a weapon.”
“Ugh. The sooner you get it out of here, the better.” At least Ian was opening up more, even if he had shut her down earlier this morning. “I’m going to check in on Matt and then help out at the office. Do you need any supplies?”
“No, but if Matt can give you anything more than a warning to run, let me know. A description of this guy would be good. He’s like a phantom.”
“Are you going to have a cell phone or radio out there? The cell reception is bad to nonexistent. You really should take a radio in case you run into any trouble.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer. How about I drive you to the office and I can pick up a radio there before I head out?”
“That works for me, especially since I still don’t have my car.”
“Do you think you can drive now?”
Meg rotated her shoulder, wincing only a little. “I can drive.”
“We drop Travis off at Eloise’s first, right?”
He knew Travis’s schedule already. “Yeah. I’m going to get ready to go.”
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Meg scooped up a fed-and-polished Travis and kissed the top of his head. “Daddy’s going to give us a ride today.”
Travis pointed to Ian pulling on his jacket. “Daddy sleep wit me.”
“I know.” She ruffled his hair. “Was he as warm and snuggly as Mommy?”
“Hey, that’s an unfair leading question. Nobody’s as warm and snuggly as Mommy.” Ian zipped up his jacket and winked.
Meg took a deep breath and swung open the front door. The man would give her whiplash with his changing moods. He wanted her. He pushed her away. Which was it? Could he forgive her or not?
Maybe she’d better back off and give him space, even when it seemed as if he didn’t want it. He didn’t know what he wanted right now, except Travis. She knew he wanted Travis.
And the thought scared her.
What if he wanted Travis but didn’t want her as part of the bargain? She’d have to share Travis with him. She hugged Travis tighter until he squirmed in her grasp.
She didn’t want to share.
An hour later, Meg banged the phone down at the front desk of Rocky Mountain Adventures. “They won’t tell me anything.”
Scott perched on the edge of the desk. “The hospital?”
“I’m not next of kin.” She put her head in her hands. “Do you think that means Matt is worse?”
“Not necessarily. When’s Ali getting back into town? Is the hospital going to let her see him?”
“He may have her listed as his emergency contact or something. Matt asked to see me last night when he was barely conscious. You’d think they’d take that into consideration.”
“Why don’t you just call Pete? He probably has the inside scoop.”
“I hate asking Pete for favors.”
“You hate asking anyone for favors, Meg. You’re allergic to it.”
She chewed on her lip. Sometimes she let that particular allergy cloud her common sense. She picked up the phone and dialed Pete’s private cell phone number.
“Sheriff Cahill.”
“Pete, it’s Meg. How’s Matt doing this morning? The hospital won’t tell me anything.”
He paused and her heart thumped so loudly, surely Pete could hear it over the phone. “What is it?”
“Sorry to tell you this, Meg, but Matt hasn’t regained consciousness since your visit last night.”
Meg slumped back in the chair. “Oh my God. Is he in danger? I thought the doc said he was in the clear.”
“Doctors don’t know anything.”
Meg forgave Pete his bitterness, since his mom had passed away from cancer six months ago and he’d been on a roller-coaster ride with her doctors.
“So you think it’s serious?”
“Someone stabbed him three times in the gut. Of course it’s serious. I hope Dempsey finds what he’s looking for and gets the hell out of Crestline.”
Meg checked her watch and blew out a breath. “You may get your wish today, Pete.”
But Pete’s hopes happened to collide with her dreams. She didn’t want Ian the hell out of Crestline. She didn’t want that at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Ian straddled the log and reached for his water bottle stuffed in the side of his backpack. He’d hiked to yesterday’s crime scene, the slick, yellow police tape now flapping in the crisp wind. A little farther and he’d get to the scene of the second crime, where the desperate terrorist had nicked Meg.
Of all the places to dump their cargo, these guys had to pick Meg’s mountain. What kind of lousy coincidence was that?
Or was it?
Ian took another gulp of water. When Riley, his Navy SEAL buddy from Prospero, had uncovered the link between the Velasquez drug cartel and a terrorist group out of Afghanistan, Prospero’s old nemesis, Farouk, had his dirty hands all over the deal. Riley had to let Farouk escape with the money from the drug deal, and Farouk had used it to purchase a weapon from Slovenka…the weapon dumped out of that airplane. But why had he scuttled the package over these mountains?
When Farouk’s terrorist cell had been battling Prospero in the Middle East, Farouk had made it his personal mission to find out as much information as he could about the Prospero team members. Ian had always believed in Farouk’s complicity in the death of Riley’s wife, although Ian had never divulged his suspicions to Riley.
How much did Farouk know about Ian’s marriage to Meg? How much did he know about Meg? Ian snapped a piece of bark from the tree trunk and chucked it into the thin air. Maybe Farouk had planned to drop the suitcase here all along, even before Buzz forced the plane down.
Ian pushed up from the log and clapped his gloved hands together. Right now he had to find that elusive suitcase before Farouk’s guy found it. And it had to be somewhere in this area.
He raised his binoculars and tracked across the dense foliage clinging to the side of the mountain. The plant life grew more sparsely where the falls cut through the mountainside, spilling sparkling water over tumbled boulders. Several ledges jutted out from the solid granite, resembling huge steps for a giant to climb to the top of the mountain.
Ian zeroed-in on one of the outcroppings, his pulse picking up speed. While most of the slabs cut into the mountainside were bereft of foliage, one stood out for the greenery that clustered around it. Prospero had trained him to look for the oddity, for the out-of-place.
Ian studied the cliff with his naked eye. To reach it, a human being would have to scale the side of the mountain with rock climbing gear, or at least be an expert freestyle rock climber. There was no way someone climbed up there and dragged branches and leaves along with him. He huffed out a cold breath and shook his head.
Two hours later, after trudging in a big circle, Ian headed back toward the crime scene and picked his way up the makeshift trail he an
d Meg had forged the day before. He had to make a decision about Meg and stick with it. Running hot and cold wasn’t doing either of them any favors. He wanted to punish her for keeping Travis a secret, but he’d be punishing himself, too…and Travis.
Truth is, having Meg in his arms last night felt like coming home. He hadn’t put aside his anger so much as other, more pressing, emotions had shoved it out of the way. The fact that he understood her reasons for keeping Travis away from him cut the deepest. Even though he knew on one level she had her own demons to slay, his just kept popping up their ugly heads.
He reached the cusp of the ridge and hauled himself over. He shoved to his feet, brushing twigs and leaves from his jeans.
“See anything?”
Ian jerked his head up and raised his brows at Meg, hiking boots planted on the trail in front of him. He cursed under his breath and reached for his water. That could’ve been anyone standing on the trail, catching him with his pants down. He’d had too many distractions on this job.
“Not much, but I did notice something unusual about the outcroppings around the falls. What are you doing here, anyway?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Meg shoved her hands in her pockets and hunched her shoulders. “Lunch break.”
“How’s the shoulder?”
“I took off the sling, didn’t need it.” She held out her arm and wiggled her gloved fingers. “It’s just sore, and a couple of ibuprofen takes care of that.”
“You were lucky.”
“You were lucky, too. I think he meant to shoot you, and I just happened to stumble in the way.”
He’d thought that, too, until Matt staggered onto Meg’s doorstep and collapsed. “How’s Matt doing?”
Meg closed her eyes and pulled the collar of her jacket up to her chin. “He lost consciousness after talking to me last night, and hasn’t regained it since.”
Ian whistled through his teeth. “That’s not good. And Cahill still has no description of the man who attacked him and why.”
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