He chuckled, patted her on the butt, and eased away. “I'd better get dressed. Don't want you to get too tempted."
She flashed him a smile and a wink over her shoulder. “Heaven forbid."
"Watch it. I could easily have you on all fours in the blink of an eye and—"
"Be finished with me a blink of an eye later?"
He dragged his hand under the sweatshirt and squeezed her breast. “Something like that."
Natalie curled her arm around his neck, stretched on tiptoe and kissed him. “Go put some clothes on before I have you on the floor for my pleasure."
"Yes, ma'am ... how about we eat in front of the fireplace?” The beginning of his fantasy come true.
"Sounds good."
He pivoted on his heel and froze.
Dark tendrils of something drifted into his head. His stomach churned. Fear raced through his heart. The evil that screamed Stephen Harcourt hovered over him. Doug blinked to clear his thoughts and glanced around.
The window sheers made him feel too vulnerable. Like they were being spied on. He slid the deadbolt in place on the back door and then walked to the front and did the same. The bolt clicked with barely a sound. Natalie's weapon was holstered on the coffee table within easy reach. His hand itched to pick it up. Back to the wall, Doug edged to the first window and pulled the shade down, and proceeded to the next one until every shade in the cabin, even those in the loft, was closed.
He stood in the center of the main room, looking around to make sure everything was secure. The smell of frying fish pierced his fear. That's when he noticed Natalie staring at him. Her body posture was tense. She eyed the weapon as well. It didn't take a mind-reader to know she was debating on taking it or letting him do so and wondering where his gun was.
She wiped her hands on a paper towel and started his way. “You okay, honey?"
Doug offered her a half-hearted smile. “Sorry ... just a sudden case of the heebie-jeebies."
He knew she didn't believe it for a second, but she also didn't argue with him about it. “Dinner's almost ready."
"Okay."
* * * *
Doug's strides rattled the knickknacks as he walked to the bedroom. Natalie brushed the unease from her skin and turned the fish over. The snap of hot oil made her gasp and jump back. Doug was at her side a second later, jeans on, weapon clutched in his hand. His fear and panic seeped into her soul.
She didn't want to ask, wasn't sure she wanted to know, but he'd shut the world out for a reason. She couldn't help either of them unless she knew what was going on in his head.
"What is it? What do you see?” her voice came out a choked whisper.
Doug closed his eyes. “I'm not sure. I can't tell if it's residual from discussing the case or something new. It doesn't make sense. I feel a lot of minds where there used to be only the horny newlyweds a mile down the lake. They're hidden, waiting. Cold, wet, tense. Watching ... us. I had to close the shades. I couldn't bear it. I felt vulnerable. Now...” He shook his head.
Random thoughts slammed into Natalie—frustration, anger, muddled with her own confusion and need to help Doug. She pressed her fingers against his temples. “It's okay, honey. Calm, deep breaths."
He sank into her touch. “How do you know the right thing to say and do?"
"I guess because I love you."
"God, baby—"
Doug buried his face against her neck and tightened his arms around her. Natalie swore she felt peace settle inside him. She kissed him hard before he could utter another word, tongue dancing over and around his until she was sure she'd driven all other thoughts from his head. Doug groaned and lifted her high. Natalie wrapped her leg over his hip. Cupping her buttocks, he pulled her higher, wedging her against the edge of the counter while he thrust his erection against her pussy.
She shoved her hands between them, fumbling to release his cock. Doug looped his fingers around her wrists and pulled her away.
"My turn.” The words sparked a mini orgasm, or maybe that was due to the dick rubbing against her clitoris.
Doug set her onto shaking legs, and hurried her to the bedroom, peeling her shirt and bra off as they went. By the time they reached the mattress, he had her jeans undone and halfway down her legs. She toppled backward and he yanked them the rest of the way off. He was inside her a second later, taking her breath away with thrust after pounding thrust. Lust, love, and fear all rolled into one act. She wanted to cry from the wealth of emotion that welled up inside, wanted to scream from the intensity of the orgasm that followed.
They clung to each other in the aftermath, chests heaving in unison ... until the scent of smoke filtered in.
"Oh, shit!"
Doug jumped into his jeans. She snagged the sweatshirt and hauled it over her head. He beat her to the kitchen by three steps. Smoke poured off the cast iron skillet of fish. He snatched up the pot holders and grabbed the handle. Natalie whipped open the back door and flicked on the outside light. Oblivious to his bare feet, he dashed into the yard and set the skillet on the tree stump.
"Wouldn't you know it,” he said. “Not a drop of rain in sight to help cool it down."
Natalie waved the smoke from the cabin, to no avail. “Look at it this way ... You'll make friends of the entire raccoon population tonight."
"I can't imagine any self-respecting raccoon eating burnt—"
His gaze sliced to the tree line. She felt the subtle shift that indicated he'd lifted his barriers and opened his mind. Right now that frightened her more than anything, but telling him not to do so would be like telling him not to breathe. The furrow between his eyebrows deepened with the information his mind grabbed and processed. Slow steps brought him closer to the porch. Natalie wanted to rush out, grab his arm, and hurry him along.
Just like that the moment was over. Doug smiled and trotted the last few steps. “But there's no telling what a hungry animal will do."
Natalie caught the threads of a warning in his voice. She looked over his shoulder, but couldn't see anything beyond the pale glow from the porch light.
Doug slid his arm around her shoulders and steered her inside. “There's another skillet and at least two more fillets, and I'm starving. How ‘bout you?"
"You're all cold again.” Natalie pressed her hand against his chest, comforted by the steady, regular heartbeat there.
He dropped his hand to her ass and gave it a squeeze. “Knowing you're naked under this sweatshirt is going to warm me up real quick."
* * * *
Doug hated like hell to lie to Natalie, but there were forces and strategies in play he didn't dare give away, especially when he couldn't be one hundred percent sure of what was going on. He felt the Harcourt evil out there watching. Josiah was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Doug realized now what the man had done. Josiah killed his targets, but only after he'd made them watch while they lost what was most dear to them. For the district attorney, it was her baby. For the judge, his male lover. For Doug...
He pulled in a breath to steady his resolve. Natalie finished cooking, while he set up a place for them to eat in front of the fireplace. Josiah was after her. He planned to kill her inch by inch while Doug watched. That meant Josiah had been keeping tabs on him for a while. Doug's attraction to Natalie was obvious to someone who was looking for something. But for his fellow agents to be monitoring him, that they had used Natalie as bait to trap Josiah...
He flexed his hands to keep from making a fist. There was no telling how aware Josiah was of him, what Stephen might have taught him. Everyone was out there waiting for the other to make a move. Doug wished he was clear-headed enough to figure out who was where. The best he could do was act as if nothing unusual was happening and to keep Natalie distracted. She wasn't going to like the duplicity.
She'd like it less if we're both killed.
Doug focused instead on how cute she looked in socks and his sweatshirt, and not on the fact that a killer was lurking outside.
>
"Ready?” she asked. “I figure we can serve ourselves from the stove."
"Perfect. I'm starving.” And scared out of my wits.
He tucked his gun under the chair cushion and wished he could tuck hers out of plain sight. The best he could do was move it to the floor beneath the couch; moving the coffee table before the fireplace had given him the excuse to do so.
Pasting on a smile he didn't feel, Doug returned to the kitchen and wrapped a one-armed hug around her. On impulse he ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the ponytail until her hair fell around her shoulders. The scent of her soothed him. He'd keep that to the forefront—only thoughts of her and their future—and not the horror waiting outside.
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER 7
Doug wasn't with her. Natalie sensed that with no problem. She'd known him too long not to recognize the signs. He smiled and talked, drifted his talented fingers over her bare leg, peeled the sweatshirt from her shoulder and kissed her there. Was it the case, or something else? Given their new relationship, how far could she push him for answers? If she did, how was that fair to him? No more fair than him shutting her out.
Dinner was over, the dishes done. They sat before the cozy fireplace on a velvet-soft blanket, watching the red-gold flames dance as they enjoyed a beer. She'd yet to take a sip; neither had he.
"Does everyone in your family do what you do?” She traced her finger around the lip of her bottle.
Doug took it from her and set it on the hearth next to his. “Yes, to some degree.” He stretched out and drew her with him.
Natalie cocked her head to one side. “On both sides of the family?"
"Yes.” He skimmed his fingers over her knee, up her thighs, then under the sweatshirt to cup her breast.
"Inherited or learned?"
He pulled free long enough to remove his jeans and curled around her once more. “How can you lay here dressed when I'm naked and ready?"
Ah, avoiding the question. “It's much more exciting when you undress me."
Smiling, he grabbed the edge of the sweatshirt and hauled it over her head. Natalie draped her arm around him, tracing the cut of muscles along his shoulder and down his arm. The only part of him not tan was his hips. The thrust of his cock took her attention away from that minor discrepancy.
He gasped when she wandered to his ribs and followed the line to his nipples. They were as hard as hers. How could she resist? Doug was quicker, seizing her nipple in a suck her clit craved. He kneaded the flesh beneath his lips until she arched into him for more, and all the while his fingers circled lower and lower.
Natalie gasped when he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties. He peeled them down her legs with agonizing slowness, always promising but never touching where she needed. His mouth followed, blazing a trail over her belly, into her navel. She splayed her legs wide, trying to catch him and hold him in place. Doug brushed the backs of his fingers over her pussy, another promise before he blew against her swollen clit.
She clutched his shoulders. He urged her hands to the blanket instead, holding her captive by mere suggestion. She gripped the flannel in her fists, body ripe for anything and everything he wanted. All Natalie wanted was him ... inside. Spreading her, possessing her.
He slipped his hand under her buttocks, lifting her pelvis to his mouth. She shook with anticipation. He parted her labia with his tongue in a long, slow swipe that yanked a moan from her. Natalie rocked into him. One nudge over her clit and she knew she'd come for him.
Doug wandered through each valley in his own sweet time. Long fingers tunneled inside, whetting her appetite for his cock. He eased her legs over his shoulders and flicked over her clit. She jerked from the impact. He suckled it and teased her to a higher level. She hovered on the brink, breath held for climax. Another finger-thrust, his tongue wandering everywhere but that one oh-so-important spot. Then he breached the anal muscle below and latched onto the sensitive nub long enough to yank her up ... and let go.
"God damn it, Doug!” She beat her heels against his back.
A chuckled rumbled in his chest. Easing her legs to his waist, he crawled up her body. She wiggled down and seated him inside with a hard thrust that made him groan.
"Now we're even."
He clenched his jaw against climax and shoved his hand between them, rubbing over her slick clitoris. “Know that I love you, Natalie. You are my life. Without you..."
She came with the declaration, clutching him to her with everything she was, while he pounded into her like it was his last act on earth. His gaze locked on hers. She looked into those beautiful brown eyes, deep inside until she could see herself in his head, could feel the force of his orgasm building. He got harder, hotter. He closed his eyes, but he couldn't shut her out, they were too much a part of each other. He tensed, struggling to hold out for her pleasure. Natalie refused to let him. Reaching down, she dug her short nails into his ass.
"Come for me,” she whispered.
Doug seated himself deep and gave it up. Relief poured from him into her, basking Natalie in pleasure she could never have guessed could happen. This was what being one was like.
His eyes focused onto hers. Love, pure and good. He reached for something above her, something under the chair.
Rage like nothing she'd ever known slammed into her head. She shrank from the force as glass and wood exploded through the front door.
::Get your gun,:: she heard in her mind.
Doug rolled from her. “Federal agent. Don't move, Harcourt."
Natalie scrambled for what little cover the couch provided and saw her weapon waiting there for her. Josiah Harcourt stalked their way, gun waving in one hand, stiletto knife in the other. His vinyl jacket rasped with every move, like a snake slithering their way. She prayed he'd trip on his oversized jeans.
"I said don't move,” Doug repeated.
"I heard what you said, fucker. You can't kill me. I got the devil in my soul. My brother gave him to me. I'm gonna cut your pretty girlfriend into tiny pieces and feed them to you while you watch her die. Then I'm gonna feed you to the fire and watch you burn in hell for what you did to Stephen."
Josiah snapped up his.38 and fired. Blood splattered from a rip in his coat. She realized Doug had shot at the same time. She had no idea where Josiah's bullet had landed.
"Don't make me have to kill you, Josiah,” Doug told him.
Josiah stared at the wound and laughed. “This? I had needles hurt more than this."
He whipped the barrel in Natalie's direction, cackled, and fired. The bullet ricocheted off the fireplace. The beer bottles shattered. She ducked and saw blood dot the blanket. Whose? Odd that she hadn't noticed the blanket was baby blue until now.
Josiah fell to one knee. Had she shot or had Doug? She couldn't tell, her mind ... wasn't her own anymore. Pain crawled down her spine from the pressure in her head.
::Stay down, honey. Focus on the blanket. Time to end this.::
Doug was in her head, guarding her from ... other voices picking pieces of her apart.
Another shot. A thud. Footsteps thundering inside.
Feelings swamped her. Fear, confusion, rage, love, more fear. Too many thoughts all coming at her. Someone wrapped a different blanket around her ... brown ... Doug. The guys from work were in the cabin. Josiah Harcourt lay in a pool of blood three feet away, eyes vacant in death, lips still curled in a smirk.
"Are you hit?” Kyle Manning's question felt like a shout in her ears. No ... in her head, echoing over and over.
Natalie clutched her temples. The pain ... it was overwhelming.
"No,” Doug replied. “Just cuts from the glass."
He was crouched beside her, dressed in his jeans. Flecks of blood dotted his torso. Hands shaking, she snaked one out to touch him and saw tiny cuts there, too.
"My head,” she managed to say.
Doug braced his hands on either side of her head, soothing the pain with his touc
h and a kiss over her forehead. That's when she realized...
"God damn it, Manning! You fucking set me up!” She crumbled into Doug on a wave of pain.
* * * *
Natalie woke up to daylight, Doug's arms around her, and a headache a hundred times worse than any hangover she'd ever had. The buzz of voices was finally gone, nothing more than a nightmare. But it was no dream.
"Someone's got a lot of explaining to do.” She thought of shoving him away in a show of anger, but didn't have the strength, the heart, or the will.
She remembered him carrying her into the bedroom, giving her a couple of prescription painkillers for the pain, holding her tight. She'd conked out shortly thereafter.
"Where is everyone?” She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight.
Doug pulled the shade down, darkening the room. “Helicopter came in at dawn with the coroner and took Harcourt out of here, along with a couple of the men. The road's washed out. CalTrans is working on it. The rest of the team is wandering around outside."
Natalie couldn't hear them in any capacity.
"Good,” he said.
No shit it was good, but it sure as hell didn't explain why she'd been able to do so last night. She also didn't need Doug prying into her head. “You knew what was going down when you took the skillet outside. Why didn't you say something?"
Doug slipped from the bed and offered her more painkillers. “I think you know the answer to that. I think you know a lot now. I'm sorry. That's my fault."
Natalie stared at the white pills in his palm, debating on whether to take them or not. She waved them off for now. What she most wanted was a pot of coffee.
"It's brewing,” he said.
"Stop that."
"Sorry.” He returned the pills to the bottle on the window sill above her.
"Explain."
"Which part?"
Good question. Somehow she already knew their people had used her as bait to catch Josiah Harcourt—apparently her and Doug's feelings toward each other were obvious, even if they'd yet to tell one another. She knew the set-up had shocked Doug and he'd done what he could to protect her and get the job done. That didn't mean she had to like it.
A Corner Of My Soul Page 4