by Debra Webb
No one could accuse her of being promiscuous, but she couldn't be expected to live out her life with no sexual interests. She was a woman, needed to feel like one from time to time. Most of her male friends treated her like one of the guys and that was fine, great in fact, but she didn't want Heath to treat her like a guy. She wanted him to bring out the woman in her.
What was wrong with that?
Nothing, she decided, as she visually measured him once more. Not a darn thing. She could keep her sex life and her personal life separate…just for as long as Heath was in town. That wasn't too much to ask.
* * *
HEATH COULDN'T SAY for sure whether it was the fact that the snowshoeing venture was scarcely more than an uphill walk in the snow or that he was fiercely focused on keeping a watch out for Stephens, but he didn't feel the first prick of panic related to the past.
The only urgency he felt was for Jayne's safety.
It felt strange that he would experience such a strong compulsion to protect her from her own father. He needed to stop Stephens, no question. Clearly the man represented a threat to more than just the Colby Agency. But how did he represent a threat to Jayne, other than via the fallout from his chosen occupation?
He'd gone to extremes to protect his daughter, ultimately, of course, protecting himself. But he could have disappeared from her life all those years ago and never returned. That he did at all, taking even that minimal risk, told Heath that he loved his daughter in whatever way a monster like him was capable.
This same man who loved his daughter had been fully prepared to kill Heath today. He'd wanted the answer to his question and then he would have carried out his threat. Heath had no doubt there.
The one thing he didn't understand when he rationalized all else was why the man cared who'd discovered his existence. What difference did it make? A matter of pride? Heath couldn't get past the idea that there was a connection between Stephens and Danes. Why the hell else would Danes order Heath to eliminate the target? Sure, he deserved nothing better, but it wasn't Heath's decision to make.
And so what if he did stop Stephens. There was a whole posse of his followers out there somewhere. Who was to say those guys wouldn't come after Heath and the agency?
He pushed the puzzling questions aside. This was all personal—from Victoria's son to Cole Danes. None of it was coincidence. Heath might not be a trained secret agent but his instincts were honed by eight years of being a cop.
He'd walked into a setup. Gotten trapped in a war that went way back and in which he didn't know the players or the stakes…except for one.
Jayne.
"Ms. McFarland! Stay away from the water's edge!"
The words were no sooner out of Jayne's mouth than she lunged for the woman who'd moved too close to the creek's edge.
His feet were taking him in that direction before his brain assimilated the magnitude of the situation.
The creek wouldn't be deep.
But the water would be killing cold.
With that thought the splash of bodies hitting the water echoed in his ears.
"Get back!" he yelled at two of the men who rushed to the creek's slippery bank.
The men pulled back, discouraging the others from making the same mistake.
Heath hit the water running.
Jayne was up, tugging with all her strength to get the older woman out of the water.
"Help me," Jayne pleaded. Her hair was soaked. He knew without asking that water would have seeped in around her collar and anywhere else where synthetic fabric ended in skin.
Ms. McFarland gasped for air and wailed, "Oh, God. Oh, God."
Heath hefted her out of the water and managed to get back onto solid, snow-covered ground before the woman's weight pulled him to his knees.
"Ms. McFarland—" Jayne knelt next to her "—tell me where the water got in."
The woman looked dazed. "Just my hair, I believe." She pawed her head with one gloved hand. "My hat came off."
Jayne nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We both lost our headgear."
Water trailed down Jayne's face as she spoke but she ignored it. She dug into her backpack and pulled out a solar blanket. Heath helped her wrap it around the trembling woman.
"This will help keep you warm," Jayne explained.
"Your hair is wet so you're going to get colder than I'd like, but the blanket will help." She surveyed the woman closely, likely looking for signs of shock. "Are you sure you don't feel wet beneath your outerwear anywhere else?"
Ms. McFarland shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I think," she added shakily.
"Let's get you on your feet."
The rest of the group, who had, thankfully, remained silent despite having moved in close so as not to miss anything, stepped back to make room.
"I'm okay," the woman assured. "Thank God." She looked at Jayne then. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get so close." She shook her head. "These old eyes aren't what they used to be."
Since a Mr. McFarland didn't come forward, Heath had to assume this lady was the one single on the trip. "How about I walk with you from here," he offered.
"That would be very kind of you."
Jayne mouthed a thank-you.
Heath glanced back at the creek and the headgear that had floated off somewhere downstream. He pulled off his own and offered it to Jayne. "I'm not wet," he re minded when she would have protested. "I'll be fine."
She nodded, too smart to argue.
Upon Jayne's radioed request the bus would be waiting for them at the trailhead a few minutes early. The trip back, she warned the group, would be covered at a bit of a faster pace to ensure Ms. McFarland's comfort.
Heath knew there was far more at stake than com fort. Both these ladies were going to be cold as hell be fore they reached that bus. He wanted to ensure that Jayne was okay, to keep her warm, but she needed him to do exactly what he was doing.
* * *
JAYNE IGNORED THE cold that had penetrated her skin, absorbed into her muscles, chilling her all the way to the bone. She couldn't let it show.
They reached the bus in record time. Ms. McFarland appeared to be doing fine. Heath's gaze kept shifting to Jayne. She knew he suspected what she couldn't hide from him.
He was no novice like the rest of this group.
He could read the pain on her face as hard as she tried to disguise it.
She'd twisted her ankle in her attempt to save Ms. McFarland from the water. Nothing was broken, she felt confident. It wasn't even a particularly bad strain, just a nuisance. Something she could definitely have done without.
When they settled in for the ride back to the hotel, Jayne sat down next to the other survivor of the dip in the creek. "Ms. McFarland, I've got an EMT standing by at the hotel to check you out. Is that okay?" Before the lady could answer, she added, "It would really make me feel a lot better."
The woman, who looked frail compared to a few hours ago, nodded. "That would be good." She grasped Jayne's hand when she would have moved away. "Will he be examining you as well, Miss Stephens?"
"I'm fine," Jayne insisted. "Don't worry about me. This isn't the first time I've taken a tumble."
Jayne moved to the back of the bus to sit next to Heath. She sat there for a moment, not sure if she wanted to open this can of worms. He saw through her too easily.
"Thanks for taking care of her," she said softly.
"You're welcome." He turned his head then and looked directly at her. "How bad's the ankle?"
Dammit. She'd known he could read her too well. "Not too bad. A mild sprain. No real damage."
"Why don't we let your EMT have the final say on that?" he suggested quietly.
She pulled off his headgear and relaxed in the seat. She was still freezing but damned if she had the energy to do anything about it. She'd shivered until her teeth rattled. The heat on the bus was slowly doing its job, but not nearly fast enough to suit her.
"Men." She laughed softly. "You always want the final say.
"
* * *
AS JAYNE SUSPECTED her ankle was fine, just a mild sprain. Though she still felt chilled, her body temperature was back to normal and, thankfully, Ms. McFarland checked out A-okay as well.
Jayne couldn't imagine what made the woman wander so close to the edge of the creek. She'd said she hadn't realized she'd gotten that close and maybe she hadn't. No point in overanalyzing it. No one really got hurt and the whole group, including Ms. McFarland, had been abuzz about their adventure the entire trip back to town. There was no telling how many times and different ways this story would be told.
"There is a little swelling," Paul Rice, the rescue team's EMT, noted on his second look at Jayne's ankle.
"I'm fine," Jayne asserted. She wished Heath hadn't insisted that she do this. She knew what would come next.
"Okay, okay," Paul relented as he let go of her foot.
Jayne glowered at him, then she gave Heath the same treatment. She'd managed to get away from the hotel without Paul's knowing she'd been injured. When he showed up at her door only minutes later with Heath she'd known she'd been ratted out by her new friend.
He stood on the other side of her living room trying to look humble. Impossible. She doubted there was a humble bone in his cover-model-quality body. Despite her annoyance at the moment she desperately wanted to find out.
She looked away from him and took a mental step back. Having a one- or two-night stand with him had sounded great in theory but this was real life. She wasn't so sure it was such a good idea. She had too much emotional baggage to be carefree and casual about intimate relationships. The last thing she needed to do was let her lust override her reason.
"Sorry, Jayne," Paul said, dragging her attention back to his big, burly frame. "I'm going to have to recommend that you go on light duty for a few days as far as search and rescue goes."
"I told you I'm fine," she countered as calmly as her irritation would allow. "A hot soak in the tub and a good night's sleep and I'll be as good as new." She had changed clothes and dried her hair but hadn't made it to the tub yet. She needed that soak. Despite the pleasantly warm temperature in her cozy apartment, she was still cold inside. It would take at least an hour of hot, hot water to cure that.
Paul stood, hauling his medic bag up with him. "Don't give me any grief, Little Boss," he said with a pointed look at her. "I could tell Walt that you need a week or two of R and R."
Her mouth dropped open in dismay. "You wouldn't dare."
"Don't tempt me." He grinned. "Keep up your Happy Trails schedule if you feel up to it, but no rescues for two full weeks." He looked from her to Heath and back.
"Relax a little. Didn't you just have a birthday?" he asked her, then turned to Heath once more, "And what about you, don't you have a story to write?"
That reminded her.
"Get out of here, Paul," she groused. "I don't need any orders from you. You tell Walt anything about this and I'll make you wish you hadn't."
The EMT's eyes rounded in mock fear. "I'm shaking in my boots." He hee-hawed at his own humor. She merely rolled her eyes. Heath kept out of it.
"I'd better get going," Paul said, apparently knowing he'd worn out his welcome.
"Thanks," she muttered as she drew her knees up to her chest. Damn, she just couldn't get warm. As soon as Heath gave her some privacy, she intended to do something about that. She had some brandy around here somewhere. Maybe she'd start a little fire inside, as well.
Heath closed the door behind Paul and locked it. She didn't know why he bothered with the lock. He would be leaving next.
"Thanks again," she said when he walked toward the sofa. She hugged her legs tighter when another chill shivered through her, but she was reasonably sure this one had more to do with the man watching her than with her recent icy swim.
"Why don't I draw you a bath," he offered, his voice far too soft, too intense.
This was not a good idea. If she was smart she'd give him an unequivocal no.
She looked him dead in the eye and said exactly what she felt. "I'd love it."
CHAPTER TEN
Jayne shivered at the sound of the water running in her tub. Was she really going to do this?
"How about a glass of wine?"
The sound of his voice as he moved back into the room sent more goose bumps over her skin. "I…" She took a deep breath. "I have brandy somewhere over there."
"Brandy will be even better."
As he prowled through her cabinets, she tried to reason out the whole issue, but too much of her brain was focused on analyzing the way he moved. He'd stripped off his Gore-Tex and Nomex synthetic wear, but he hadn't bothered to go back to his room and change. The cold-weather pants gloved his strong body in such an enticing manner that she could scarcely bear to look. He'd pushed up the sleeves of his oatmeal-colored long-sleeved undershirt.
His hair was windblown and so damned sexy. She swallowed to ease her parched throat. How could she say no to all that? She closed her eyes and chastised her self. Okay, okay, it wasn't just about the great packaging.
Heath was kind and generous. She liked the way he interacted with her friends, especially Rafe. He'd gone right to Ms. McFarland's rescue. No matter how little she knew about him, he was simply a nice guy.
And she wanted so to be with him.
Maybe it was a foolish mistake.
Her father was probably right. She should steer clear of strangers…should protect herself. But she was so tired of doing the right thing.
She wanted to indulge herself just this once.
To be foolhardy and self-absorbed.
Just for tonight.
"Here ya go."
She looked up to find him watching her with those intense brown eyes. She would never forget the pain she'd seen there that day on the mountain. Like her, he had baggage, too. Maybe that was one of the things that attracted her to him.
Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the cup of brandy. She didn't own any fancy stemware other than the one wineglass and it was in the dishwasher. "Thank you."
He nodded. "I should check on your bath."
She watched him walk out of the room, unable to resist that additional pleasure. She wanted this far too much. It had to be a mistake. Nothing this good had ever turned out right in her life.
A sigh pushed past her lips. Well, that wasn't true. She had her work and the mountain rescue team. She loved living here, enjoyed her friends tremendously. Those were all wonderful things. But those things didn't keep her warm at night, didn't make her feel like a woman.
She needed intimacy, too. She'd gone far too long without it as it was. She'd been so afraid to go out on that limb again…after Richard.
Her college days and that one other big fiasco didn't count, she told herself. Everybody made mistakes at that age. It was a rule of some sort. How else would a person ever learn anything? Risks were necessary.
This was necessary.
She thought about the other girls, some friends, some not, from her high school and college days. Most of them likely had big-time careers or husbands and kids, maybe both by now. She'd shrugged off a graduate degree in favor of being a trail guide. Had all but given up a sex life to be a part of mountain rescue.
It felt safer on those kinds of cliffs and ledges.
But there was something wrong with that picture on the most basic level.
Don't overanalyze, Jayne. This isn't rocket science. It's sex.
She closed her eyes to the count of three and banished all thoughts of rights and wrongs and what-ifs. Then she promptly downed the brandy, cringing at the burn and waiting for the courage it would instill with its warmth.
"Why don't you get in the tub and I'll get you a refill?"
Jayne gasped and looked up at the half-dozen feet of lust-arousing male towering over her. He was too gorgeous. "Sure," she croaked.
He offered his hand for support. She clasped it, feeling the electricity even before their palms touched. He helped her
to her feet when she could certainly have managed the feat on her own. She must be drunk already, she mused. Otherwise having a man help her in this way couldn't possibly be so much fun. She usually preferred taking care of herself, being strong.
Tonight she wanted to be vulnerable…weak. She wanted to be needy. She wanted that need filled.
To her credit she walked out of the room without hobbling once. She couldn't deny more than a little discomfort but she wasn't going to own up to it. It annoyed her immensely that Paul had put her on light duty for a few days. She hated when he did stuff like that. When she'd taken her first tumble, garnering herself all those stitches in her leg, he'd put her on six weeks of light duty. Way more than she'd needed. She might be enjoying Heath's attention, but she hated the idea of any sort of weakness on her part getting in the way of her work. But then, set ting her injured ego aside, rescues often involved life-and-death situations. Time was always the enemy. Even a mild sprain could waste precious time.
When she opened the bathroom door the steam wafted out to greet her. She liked that. She'd have to re member to keep the door closed that way. Her clothes came off in nothing flat and landed in a pile on the floor. Her hair went up with a handy claw clip. The steam settled on her flesh like a lover's whisper.
Shivering, she eased carefully into the water, moaned with the incredible ecstasy it sent cascading through her body. Any lingering chill in her bones dissipated as she relaxed into the massive claw-footed tub. That was the best thing about this tiny apartment. She wouldn't trade this place and its tub for one of the fanciest condos in town.
The steam continued to hang in the air like fog, adding the perfect ambience to the faint light glowing from the ancient wall sconces that hung next to the mirror. She'd have to thank Heath for this. She smiled. Really, really thank him. She thought of at least a half-dozen ways to show her gratitude.