The Fifth Season

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The Fifth Season Page 10

by Korzenko, Julie


  “Thank you.” She grabbed his head and pulled him down, touching her lips to his. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  His nostrils flared and Stone battled to draw air into starving lungs. “Let’s go, we need to warm up.”

  They stood. Emma caught a glimpse of a blonder version of Stone. “Ethan, watcha doin’ here?” She accepted the blanket handed over by Stone’s cousin.

  “Figured I was a good back up for your boy, here. I’ve sent one of my men to inform your group about,” his voice dropped an octave lower from anger. “This little accident. They’ve been instructed to take the shuttle boat back to the visitor’s center.”

  “Where’s Adams?” Emma asked.

  “Ran like a little toad after his wife.” Stone cursed.

  Ethan nodded. “I can arrest him.”

  “No,” Stone shook his head. “We need something more permanent than that.”

  Emma began shivering. “I’m cold.”

  “I know baby, I know.” He pulled her tightly against his chest, rubbing her limbs in an attempt to rejuvenate circulation. The closeness of her body scorched away the bone-deep chill of the river.

  Fear at the thought of losing Emma still coursed violently through his system like the angry Snake. Shocked at his own reaction, he blocked the panic threatening to set in.

  Orchestrating the return of the resort guests and piling Emma into his Jeep momentarily blocked Stone from dwelling on what snagged at his heart. He worked the vehicle through the winding roads of Grand Teton National Park, mulling over how to exact revenge.

  Glancing at Emma, he frowned as shivers wracked her body.

  “Get out of your clothes,” he commanded.

  “What?” Her teeth chattered so loudly, he had to bite back on the adrenaline laughter threatening to break through.

  “I’ve some sweats in the backseat. Strip and put them on.”

  She stared at him as if he’d just grown pointy ears and a little green suit.

  “I don’t think…think…think so,” she chattered.

  He clenched his teeth. Stubborn and stupid. Pulling the Jeep off the winding road, he killed the ignition, reached behind her and grabbed his clothes. Jumping out and jogging to her side of the vehicle, he opened her door, picked her up and walked down the slightly sloped shoulder.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m providing you with privacy.” He dumped her, not all that carefully, behind a thick cluster of pines. “Now change.”

  “Oh…oh…oh…kay.”

  Sighing deeply, Stone looked to the sky for deliverance from the entire soul searing experience. His chest still pounded from fear, his hormones were raging at the mere thought of her naked behind the trees, and his mind demanded he run, fast.

  “I’m dressed,” she said softly.

  He turned…and lost his heart.

  Emma stood ramrod straight, eyes bright with a kiss of tear tipping her lashes. Her hair, a tangle of auburn nests, cascaded wildly past her shoulders. Shivers continued to rack her petite form now swallowed by his navy blue military sweats, but not as often. All of that aside, Stone realized it had nothing to do with the vulnerability etched from head to toe that reached for him but everything to do with the small spark of fire that burned like a homing beacon in her eyes.

  He wanted that fire.

  He wanted her.

  ***

  Emma gathered the dinner dishes and walked into the kitchen.

  “Can I do that?” Stone asked.

  “No, you can’t. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop hovering over me.”

  “You scared me today.”

  She paused and gazed at him. His demeanor seemed changed, and it threw her off guard. “I scared myself. Let’s just enjoy an hour of quiet time before the Leary’s and Adams’ return, okay?”

  He nodded and walked into the living room. She quickly stacked the dishwasher, wiped the counters, and poured them each a glass of red wine. Following Stone’s path, she ended up in front of the warm, blazing hearth. He stood before the mantel, studying a collection of photographs. Emma handed his glass to him and dropped into the overstuffed leather couch.

  “This feels great,” she said, stretching her feet to the fire.

  He smiled that wicked little half-grin that made her feel like the tip of a feather caressed her stomach. “We need to talk.”

  “If you’re going to lecture me again on my poor judgment, I want to plead momentary insanity and be done with it.”

  “As much as I feel you need a lecture, I’ll refrain for at least a day.” Stone leaned against the mantel, sipping his wine and eyeing her carefully. “I’m going to help you find a permanent solution to this.”

  Emma tilted her head, ready to listen. “Gee, why does that sound more like a threat than a promise?”

  Stone chuckled and moved to sit next to her. He didn’t crowd, didn’t allow any physical contact, but the intimacy existed, muddling her mind and igniting her hormones.

  “Seamus Adams is a threat. He needs to be dealt with before something dangerous happens to either you or River Run.”

  “River Run…” Emma paused, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. “I understand,” she finally uttered.

  “I’ve decided to make an official request to the President to investigate his political dealings.”

  “You can do that?” Astonishment evidently laced her words, because Stone’s reaction bordered on barely-contained indulgence.

  “Yes. And I think it’ll be a safer road to travel than eliminating him.”

  Emma snorted her wine. It burned the inside of her nose, causing her eyes to water. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  Stone frowned and cocked his head. “Said what?”

  “Eliminate him,” she repeated, using a deep threatening tone, “as if that were no more trouble than squashing a roach.”

  Stone tilted his head back, releasing what could only be described as a full-throttle laugh. It tickled her spine and warmed her spirit. “Well,” he said, still chuckling. “To be honest, he really isn’t much more than a roach.” He touched her cheek. Emma stilled, relishing the brief intimate contact. “Remember, killing is as easy to me as mucking stalls.”

  She saw the flicker of hesitancy and reached forward to mimic his caress. “I don’t believe that.”

  Stone’s jaw clenched then relaxed.”I have one favor to ask.” His voice suddenly dropped to a low whisper, and his desire ran lightly beneath the surface of his eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “You need to cease all Clover activities in Ireland.”

  Emma’s heart froze. She couldn’t do that. It would mean…no, wait a minute…after that last report, it really wouldn’t mean anything. The search for her father needed to come to an end.

  Nate’s belief that Hugh Gallagher still lived beneath the menacing hand of Seamus Adams needed to be dissolved. He’d done all he could to help her father, and it was time Emma ended this fruitless search.

  She trusted Stone.

  And as much as she hated the idea, she didn’t want to hurt his chances of selling River Run. “All right,” she said softly, burying the deep sorrow that welled in her chest. Nate’s reaction wouldn’t be pleasant, but the time had arrived to face reality.

  Stone smiled, leaning forward and planting a light kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.”

  Emma nodded, slightly stupefied by his behavior. “How exactly do you plan on bringing Seamus Adams down?”

  “I don’t think politically we’ll succeed, but I do believe I can box him into a corner where you’ll no longer be the focus of his concern. I’ll make sure there are more pressing matters within his campaign than a young Irish lass hiding in Wyoming.”

  “I see.” But Emma didn’t really. Stone obviously disregarded the depth of the politician’s hatred. It wasn’t something that could easily be distracted, but if he had a plan, then she’d trust in him. After all, River Run would be the next t
arget. It was logical to assume that. He’d do what was right for his investment. “Why do you think Adams would try such a stupid maneuver today?”

  Stone frowned and shook his head. “I’ve no clue. Can you remember saying something that might’ve triggered this reaction?”

  Emma replayed the few times she’d actually spoken with Seamus Adams and couldn’t remember anything out of the ordinary. “What about Clover?”

  “What about Clover?” Stone repeated her words, pressing for more than she wanted to share.

  “Maybe he knows my connection and wanted to punish me.” She offered, touching his hand lightly. Stone glanced down, smiled and twined his fingers through hers.

  “I have no doubt he knows your connection, but why would it prompt him to attempt murder and ruin his chances of election?”

  Emma stared into his face. She couldn’t tell him the truth, not now. Not when he seemed finally to be connecting with her. Never, in her wildest dreams, did it occur to her that her actions abroad could inadvertently affect River Run. If Stone knew the potential risk she’d created for his investment, he’d surely back away.

  “I don’t know.” Shrugging, she bent forward and placed her wine on the table. “I’m tired. I think I’d like to sneak to bed before our guests return.”

  “I’ll bank the fire and be right there.” He stood, helped her to her feet and gently pushed her in the direction of her rooms. “Emma?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Get under the covers tonight.”

  Her breath hitched, and she suddenly panicked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re…”

  Stone crossed the space separating them and knuckled her chin. “I’m not asking, I’m commanding. I expect my orders to be followed. But don’t worry, I’ll not cross into enemy territory.”

  “I’m not the enemy.”

  He touched his lips lightly to hers then backed away, leaving her wanting more. “Yes, Ms. O’Malley, you certainly are.” He winked removing the sting from his words, but it still hurt. She didn’t want to be the enemy. Smiling slightly, Emma turned and walked to her rooms.

  Away from the heat of the fire and burning desire ignited by Stone, the cool air caused her to shiver. It reminded her of the lake, and she hurried to bury her frozen body beneath the warmth of her down comforter. She changed into sweats, armoring herself against Stone then slipped into bed.

  Emma drifted to sleep, barely conscious when his weight shifted the mattress. He gathered her into his arms. She accepted his warmth, his protection and smiled dreamily when he whispered good night.

  ***

  “I get the shower first, Stone.” Emma called racing ahead of him through the main part of River Run. Rounding the kitchen counter, her socks slid on the hardwood floor sending her flying backward.

  “Easy girl,” he said, catching her before she hit her head on the ground. They collapsed on the floor laughing. It took her a moment to realize he hadn’t pulled away and continued cradling her against his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. They hadn’t been this close since the night of the river accident. He’d left her before morning and remained distant ever since.

  “It’s nice to hear that.”

  “What?” He inhaled, pulling her tighter. Her skin burned to be touched, she fought the desire to turn around and wrap her arms around his neck. Grabbing the counter for support, Stone hauled them both to their feet.

  “Your laughter,” she said.

  “Don’t get used to it. I just needed something to break the tension of having to tip-toe around Seamus Adams. I’m glad they’re gone.”

  “Me too.” Emma reluctantly stepped from his arms and took off again for the bathroom. She laughed when he grabbed her shirt and yanked her back, against his chest. Battling for a foot hold on the slick floor, she tried to inch forward.

  “You showered first yesterday, wench.”

  “Don’t stoop to name-calling, jerk. It’s my bathroom, and I should get the shower first every night. Besides you’ll have yours back as soon as housekeeping is finished.”

  “I’m not waiting for another two hours. I want a shower now, and I want it hot.” He wouldn’t release her so they penguin waddled into her private rooms. Emma reached for the bathroom doorknob but his hand closed over hers. Twisting around, it suddenly dawned on her how very close they were.

  He didn’t step back but instead pushed closer. Every inch of him pressed against her. “I’m dirty,” she said.

  “Really?”

  Emma eyed him thoughtfully. He’d been different after the accident, more approachable. His hostility toward Seamus Adams escalated each day the vacationers remained. This morning, the Irish politician ran to the limo, tail tucked securely between his legs.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Stone, and let me have my shower in peace.”

  “You know,” he spoke softly, lowering his head so their lips were nearly touching. “We have the house all to ourselves.”

  “No we don’t,” she replied. Her lungs burned with the need for air.

  “Well, except for housecleaning, we do.” He ran his tongue along the edge of her lips. She couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped, causing him to grin wickedly.

  “House cleaning is very nosy.” Emma leaned into Stone, seeking him with her mouth. He inhaled and dove into her with the want of a hungry man, consuming, overpowering. Her knees buckled, and she clutched his neck climbing closer.

  Head spinning, body humming, Emma remembered what’d happened last time they were this close. She pushed away and looked into his glazed expression. Passion, lust, and something else she didn’t recognize shone back.

  “We can’t do this,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  The phone rang, breaking the awkward silence with its shrill echo. She broke free and answered. A deep female voice asked for Stone Connor, and her stomach dropped. This was why she needed to protect herself. Handing him the phone, she shrugged.

  “Because there’s always something new…or someone.”

  Stone listened to the voice on the other end of the receiver, then glanced up at her. The pain and hurt that crossed his eyes before he turned away crushed her heart. She wished she knew everything about him, could trust all of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Stone lifted the last pumpkin from the Jeep. He glanced up, noting the thick white clouds shrouding the sun and cooling the temperatures. The upper tips of the Tetons were hidden. A storm brewed, and he’d no doubt snow would fall before night settled. Surveying the collection of odd sized orange shapes, he wondered if Emma would help carve. Halloween loomed less than a week away, and the current guests of River Run had a parcel of little tots.

  With a deep sigh, he sat on the porch steps and reviewed everything they’d gone through the past two weeks. He didn’t understand her adversity toward his therapist. If Emma hadn’t crawled beneath his skin, he wouldn’t have needed to call the damn woman in the first place.

  He’d hated that.

  That first call he’d placed after so many months of rejecting therapy. The night he sat in the tiny office, Emma sleeping less than ten strides away, her scent twirling all around making him crazed, he’d picked up the phone and dialed a number he’d sworn never to use again.

  Psychobabble wouldn’t help him, he knew. But it was the fear that his emotions might possibly damage Emma that forced his hand. He’d never considered her reaction, that she’d hate his weakness.

  “Mr. Connor?” Stone turned and smiled at Sally Haven. Her heart shaped face, too serious eyes, and outward demeanor of an old lady, snuck beneath the dangerous trip wire around his heart. This five year-old needed to be a child. But, her parents didn’t quite see that.

  “What’s up Sally?”

  “Um, I was wondering if I might be of some assistance in, um, carving the pumpkins.”

  “Sure thing, kiddo. Which one do you want?”

  “I can choose my own?”

&nbs
p; “Of course. Just don’t make the face too hard for me to carve.”

  “Oh,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t know how to make a face.”

  Stone narrowed his eyes and absorbed the way she shuffled from foot to foot, her hands twisting in time to her words.

  “Have you ever helped carve a pumpkin?”

  “Well, no. But I’d like to try.”

  “What about trick-or-treating?”

  Little Sally hung her head and shook it slowly. “My parents don’t believe in candy.”

  “Well then, little girl,” Stone stood and swung her up onto his shoulders, smiling at her shrieks of mock terror. “You’re on vacation which means you’re about to have the best darned Halloween ever.”

  He performed a mad gallop around the driveway, through the barn and back to the porch. Settling her back on her feet, Stone nodded to the house. “Go put on some old clothes and let your Mom know you’ll be out here with me. We’ll carve these babies then light them up on Halloween.”

  “Okay, Mr. Connor. I’ll be back.” Sally dashed into the resort, calling for her mother.

  Stone turned back to the drive, walking thoughtfully around the Jeep. He’d seen Emma down by the gate arguing with Nate. Torn between ignoring his father and protecting the woman he loved, he didn’t know whether or not to interrupt them. Emma didn’t see the truth, didn’t know the animal that lurked beneath his father’s calm demeanor.

  Making a decision, he walked slowly across the pasture. He’d be out of sight, but within a quick jog should she need his help.

  ***

  “I can’t believe you’ve shut down Clover.” Nate’s face flushed crimson as he continued to scream the same thing over and over at her.

  Once more, she attempted to reason with him. “It’s for the best. Why continue throwing good money after bad? The last report indicated no chance of survival.”

  “You don’t know that.” His voice rang loudly, laced with an anger she’d never witnessed before.

  “He’s my father, dammit.”

  “And you’ve just sentenced him to death.”

 

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