CHAPTER SIX
Kit
“Kit, I need you awake.” Luke’s mouth is near my ear.
I open my eyes, blinking in the faint light cast by the lantern. I’m deliciously comfortable and warm.
Realization hits.
My head is nestled against his shoulder, my arm is stretched low across his belly, and my legs are tangled with his. Luke had assured me I was safe with him, but apparently he’s not safe from me.
I move my arm back, then freeze when he sucks in a sharp breath. I’d brushed against a full-blown erection. His jaw clenches, and he looks like he’s fighting a losing battle for control.
I can’t stop myself and wrap my fingers around his rigid length, beautifully hard and erect. His breath whistles through his teeth. I stroke firmly and he surges into my hand, a groan ripping from his throat.
Oh my, I’ve missed this. The erotic knowledge of a man’s body, the latent power of a beautiful erection, the awareness of how badly he wants me. Desire pulls at me with seductive heat.
“Kit, we can’t. Not now.”
My face floods with warmth. Luke is injured, there’s a fugitive outside, and here I am groping him.
I let go and jerk back. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” I hide my face in the pillow, speaking with a muffled voice. “I’m an awful person and obviously can’t be trusted not to molest you. You were there and I…never mind,” I mumble.
Luke sits up, lowering his face to mine. His eyes are hot and direct, burning with everything he’s holding back.
“There’s nothing I want more than to make love with you, Katarina,” he says quietly. “And I couldn’t have stopped my response to you if you’d held a gun to my head. But another time. We’ve got trouble.” His lips press to my forehead, then he pulls away and sits up.
A sound resonates outside the bedroom. A dull, hollow thud from the front of the inn, slicing through the warmth we’ve been wrapped in.
From her bed, Penny lets out a low, rumbling growl.
“That came from the front porch.” Shoving embarrassment aside, I swing my legs over the bed.
“That’s what woke me,” Luke says. “I’m going to check it out. You good to follow me with the shotgun?”
I nod. “Of course.”
He stands, and maybe I peek. The too-small sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. He’s still aroused and the sight of the rigid length sends another jolt of desire straight through me.
“Briggs gets past me,” Luke says flatly, “you blast him. No hesitation, Kit. Shoot to kill.”
Another thud echoes through the inn, heavier this time, and the reality of the situation slams back into place.
“It sounds like he’s at the front door,” I say, checking my phone. “There’s no alert from the security system so no break-in.”
“Does it cover the porch?”
“No. Only windows and doors.”
I push my feet into shearling boots, grateful I’d slept in a long sweatshirt and leggings. After locking a deeply unhappy Penny in the bathroom, I follow Luke into the hall, the shotgun heavy and solid in my hands.
Glass shatters in the front entry.
Penny’s furious barking explodes behind us, echoing through the inn. My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my throat. Luke is moving, a shadow ahead of me. When we reach the lobby, he snaps on the flashlight.
“Robert Briggs. US Marshals. Show me your hands. Now.”
There’s no hint of pain or injury, only direct, calm control.
Luke has ditched the sling. The flashlight is in one hand, his gun in the other.
Briggs freezes in the beam, gaunt, pale eyes empty as he blinks against the light. He’s broken the decorative window to reach the latch. He stands in the open doorway, an icy draft swirling around him.
“Sorry,” he says, shivering. “My car broke down. I need shelter.”
The orange prison pants are gone. He’s wearing a better-fitting coat.
I step to the other side of the doorway and bring the shotgun to my shoulder.
“People who want help knock,” Luke growls. “Hands above your head. Face away. Get down on your knees.”
“I don’t understand. I was driving and my car broke down.” His hand shifts toward his coat pocket.
“Stop. Do not reach.” Luke snaps out the orders. “Turn away from me. Get down on your knees and cross your ankles.”
There’s a moment when I think Briggs won’t comply, eyes flicking between our weapons. His shoulders sag. Slowly, he obeys.
“Kit,” Luke says without looking at me, “keep the shotgun on him. He makes a wrong move, shoot.”
I swallow. “Got it.” Then I say, “Are you sure it’s Briggs?”
“Positive. Don’t let him fool you.”
Luke orders Briggs to remove his coat. There’s a thud when he drops it to the floor. The next order is to lift his shirt and rotate. Briggs moves stiffly, winces like he’s injured, but complies. Only then does Luke approach, cuffing him one-handed.
With the snicking of metal closing around Briggs’s wrists, it feels like a weight has lifted.
We’re safe. Briggs is no longer a danger and the fear of the last twenty-four hours is over.
Luke searches the coat and pulls out a handgun. “Kit, I need clean plastic bags, zip top if you have them.”
With the shotgun over my arm, I move through the dark hallway. Taking the lantern from the bedroom to the kitchen counter, I dig through a drawer and locate another flashlight and the bags.
With Briggs in custody, there’s no longer a need to keep the inn dark. As soon as I can, I’ll start the generator. Poor Penny is now whimpering.
When I return, Luke bags the gun and ammo separately, then finishes searching Briggs.
“I told you, my car broke down. I carry the gun for protection,” Briggs insists. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
“No ID. Armed. And I bet you’ve got a gunshot wound on your ass,” Luke says.
“You’re staying in my custody.” He rises to his feet.
“Now shut up and listen. You’re under arrest for escape, kidnapping, and murder of a federal officer.
You have the right to remain silent…” He recites the Miranda rights while Briggs tries to cajole him.
“You got the wrong guy, I swear. At least move me off the floor.”
“You’re staying put.”
Luke closes the door, blocking the cold. When he turns, his gaze locks onto mine.
“You can put the shotgun down, Kit.”
I lay it on the desk, well out of reach of Briggs. “You could look for the gunshot wound on his butt.” I suggest. “That’s evidence he’s the one out there yesterday and shot you.”
“Can’t,” Luke says. “That’s considered a strip search and a rights violation. My bet is he broke into a cabin and patched himself up, got a change of clothes.”
“Why wouldn’t he just stay there? Why risk breaking in here when he knows we’re armed?”
“Hungry. Cold.” He shrugs one shoulder. “People do stupid things when they’re desperate.”
He’s talking about Briggs but looking at me with an intensity that has something inside me coiling tightly, a spring under tension.
He stalks purposefully toward me, his dark gaze flaring.
My breath stutters and my pulse flutters wildly. He stops close enough that I feel the heat of him, our breath mingling.
“You’re it for me, Katarina,” he murmurs.
Before I can process that, his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is fierce, full of everything we’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours. His fingers tangled in my hair as his tongue teases in a warm savoring slide. Emotion I’ve been holding in bursts to the surface like it’s seeking the sun.
My hands fist in his sweatshirt. I’m being pulled under by the tide and Luke’s the only solid thing left in the world. Hot and heady with an undefined promise, the kiss is an affirmation of our survival, a recognition of the deep currents swirling around us since I stood over him in the snow.
He raises his head, thumbs stroking my jaw, and I tug him back for another kiss. I want to hold him tight and never let go.
Then he buries his face in my neck, breath shuddering, and I feel him wince.
“You’re hurting. Go lie down and let me watch Briggs.”
He holds my hands to his chest. “Not happening, Katarina. He’s a manipulative bastard and I don’t want you alone with him. Your safety is my highest priority.”
He rests his forehead to mine. We stand like that, the tension of our ordeal slowly easing. I absorb strength simply by being with him. Maybe he gets the same feeling from me.
The next hours pass in a blur.
By sunrise, the generator is running, the broken window sealed. Briggs is shackled to a chair and complaining loudly.
I suggest giving him a blanket.
Luke looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “He’s a dangerous criminal, Kit. Anything you try to do for him, he’ll exploit.”
Luke uses the inn landline to call Beckett, then his boss. I can hear the rumble of his voice coming from the lobby. I move Penny to the service porch to feed her. I shut her in so she doesn’t go near Briggs. Luke returns to the kitchen, face gaunt.
“Sit, Luke,” I order gently.
He looks like he’s staying upright through sheer grit. He finally gives in and sits at my kitchen table in the corner.
I set a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. “Do you take anything in your coffee?”
“No, this is good.” He sips the coffee, then rests his head against the wall behind him, eyes closed. Not letting me help, he’d changed into his pants and boots.
I place two pills on the table and he opens his eyes.
“Take the pain meds, Luke.” I pull two pans of muffins from the oven, and the aroma mingles deliciously with the smell of coffee.
Bacon sizzles in a pan on the range. I take an oatmeal muffin from the pan.
It’s piping hot and I break it open on a plate, butter both sides, and set it in front of Luke.
“The rest will be ready in a few minutes, but this’ll get you started.” I frown, crossing my arms. “You need to wear the sling to immobilize your arm. Every move could do more damage.”
The look on his face when his gaze rests on me has warmth flooding my cheeks. Maybe the danger we’ve faced has accelerated an emotional connection that in normal times would have developed more slowly.
You’re it for me, Katarina.
What did he mean by that? I know what I hope he meant. I’ve only known him a day and his life is a total mystery, but I know Luke.
Yes, he’s stubborn, but more than that, he’s a man of courage and determination with an ingrained sense of integrity. All of which makes him even more attractive.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Katarina” His gaze is direct. “You saved my life.”