Chapter 13
Heather sighed as they started the hike back to the car, wishing she could borrow some of Dale’s absolute confidence to boost her sagging spirits.
Questions raced through her mind, interspersed with the images she’d captured tonight. Her camera felt like a hundred pounds in her pack. She knew she wouldn’t like what she saw, but they needed to look and identify as many people as possible.
One face in particular haunted her. Special Agent Bingham. Knowing Dale had his suspicions didn’t mean it would be easy for him to accept the cold truth in a photo. When Bingham had come out of the silver sedan, she’d nearly bobbled the camera.
Would it be enough to convince a prosecutor? She had no idea. That part of the process was too far removed from her life experience. Her feet dragged as she wondered how anyone would believe a waitress from Haleswood had cracked an extensive, well-funded dogfighting ring.
Somehow, Dale would make the case. He had to.
No matter what the guard had said, she knew Terry had been loyal to their effort, as determined as she was to bring down this operation. He’d been genuinely helping her stop the cruelty. Yes, he had a criminal record, but everyone needed a second chance. The work at the shelter had changed Terry and she wouldn’t let anyone ignore the progress he’d made reforming his life.
A chill rippled across her skin, raising the hair on her nape and she hunched her shoulders.
“Almost there,” Dale said, his deep voice quietly emerging from the shadows where he was walking just behind her on the left.
She wanted to ask how his leg felt, but refrained. He wasn’t lagging, merely taking a position to protect them both. His persistent watch for threats should probably make her nervous. They weren’t out of the woods—literally or figuratively. Instead, his vigilance gave her comfort, despite the mounting dangers.
When she spotted his car she nearly burst into a run, she was that eager to get out of this area and evaluate the evidence on her camera.
Dale stayed her with a gentle touch. “Let me check it out first.” He handed her his phone and walked forward, flashlight in one hand, gun ready in the other. “Clear,” he announced after he’d worked his way around the vehicle.
She hurried forward, though she couldn’t tell by his voice if he was relieved they’d escaped detection or worried something worse awaited them down the road. They didn’t talk during the drive back to the beach and for once in her life she was grateful for the silence.
Her family would never believe it. They thought of her as the girl who always smiled and never stopped chattering. Yes, Dale was right, she had a chip on her shoulder and it hadn’t been fair to take out her frustrations on him.
She wanted to break free of that confining mold even as she sought the comfort of those known interactions with the people who’d loved her all her life.
Dale had called her brave and she wanted to be. For the investigation, yes, but also beyond that. She wanted to claim her life on her terms. It would be so much easier if she could figure out what that meant.
She didn’t want a life in law enforcement. Not a lifetime serving breakfast at the Rooster either. She wanted something more. Something bigger than the small slice of the world she’d seen. Something more upbeat and happy than this horrible dogfighting scandal.
An image of the castle in Walt Disney World popped into her head and she snorted. She wanted something more real than even the happiest place on earth.
“What are you thinking about?”
She turned, smiling at him. “You’re the only person who asks me that.”
“That can’t be true.”
She shrugged. “Believe it or not.”
“Were you thinking about Lester and the case? I don’t want you to worry about the guard’s outrageous claims.”
“Not exactly. I was mulling over what comes after we turn in the evidence.” She pulled off her gloves and rubbed her palms together, warming them. Giving the ring a twist to straighten it, she spotted her scar, rekindling the memory of Dale’s touch. She shifted in the seat, stuffing her hands under her thighs and out of sight.
“We can arrange a protective detail for you if Lester makes bail.”
That wasn’t a comforting thought. “Would that detail involve you?” She wanted to smack her head against the dashboard. A deaf man could have heard the obvious hope in her voice.
“Not me. I’ll probably get moved to a different office if Bingham is in as deep as I think he is.”
“You’ll probably get a promotion based on what you’ve told me about Lester.”
He either didn’t agree with her or didn’t want to discuss it, because he pulled into a hotel parking garage without another word. “This isn’t the right lot,” she said, suddenly on edge.
“That lot is being watched,” he replied, his eyes on the street.
“Any chance the watchers are on our side?”
He faced her, his dark eyebrows arching up. “You know the answer to that.”
She did. It wasn’t comforting to realize they were still out here on their own. “What now?”
“We have to get back up to our room and solidify our cover story.”
As an engaged couple who’d spent the evening with room service and each other. She thought of the champagne and strawberries they’d left in the mini fridge. Her mouth watered and her pulse skipped, wishing it could be real.
“Let’s give them something else to think about.” He held out his hand. “You have the phone.”
She fished out the burner phone from her pocket and returned it to him. It still amazed her that he had stuff like that stashed in his storage unit. She had to cover her mouth, smothering laughter as he called in and reported a suspicious package near the elevator of the hotel next to the one where they were booked.
As police cars descended on the area, they crept around the block and entered their hotel from the beach access.
By the time they’d safely reached the room, Heather felt like she’d been running for miles. She flopped into the nearest chair, giving her rubbery knees a break, and stared at Dale, who looked as composed as always. “How do you do that day in and day out?”
“Most days I ride a desk.”
“Uh-huh.” She watched as he carefully removed his field jacket, double-checking the safety on his weapon. “With a hefty side of gator wrangling.”
“What?”
“Whoops.” She started to giggle. “Overtired civilian here.” She forced herself to take a breath. Then one more when the giggles threatened again. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
He seemed completely oblivious as he secured the room with the deadbolt, u-lock, and a chair tilted to block the handle for good measure.
Would he be as thorough in bed? She studied his face, praying she hadn’t said that aloud too.
His lack of reaction restored her composure, until he sat down and started to remove his boots. She followed suit, if only to force her gaze away from him. They would spend tonight just like last night. Asleep in separate areas. As it should be.
She was a grown woman on a mission to right a wrong and avenge a good friend. She could outlast a case of lust. Or not, she thought, looking up to find him watching her. His hazel eyes were full of heat and her body responded instantly.
It was kindness, she amended. Not heat. Men—real men—didn’t look at her that way. That kiss in the woods was an anomaly. Some misguided attempt at comfort or distraction. It was effective, if she was still thinking about it, but hadn’t she learned Dale was a superb actor?
She had to do something before she embarrassed them both and jumped him. What she felt stemmed from a manufactured reality, she scolded herself. He’d defended her, comforted her, and above all, believed and supported her.
It was a heady sensation.
“Why are you staring at me that way?”
With a quick mental shake, she pulled herself together. “What way is that?”
“I’m not sure how to define it.”
Hero worship with a hefty dose of raw desire might be a good start, but she managed not to volunteer that assessment. “My mind is leaping all over the place,” she said. “I apologize for whatever nonsense my face is doing.”
That was the best she could offer with her mouth suddenly dry. He held her gaze until she couldn’t take it anymore, closing her eyes and massaging her temples.
But behind her closed lids all she saw was more Dale, Mr. FBI. Good grief she had it bad.
The man might not wrestle alligators, but whatever he did on a daily basis to maintain his physique worked wonders. Especially from her perspective. Her eyes traveled over biceps testing the limits of his thin black t-shirt. Feeling feverish, she pushed to her feet and swayed, lightheaded. Whether from the toll of the long, violent day or the tempting view, she couldn’t tell. Didn’t much care. “I call dibs on the shower.” She had to get some distance.
Ignoring the strange expression on his face, a mixture of concern and skepticism, she bolted for the bathroom.
“Heather, wait.”
She stopped, refusing to turn around, but felt him come up behind her. “Let me take a look first.”
No one was hiding in their bathroom, but she mumbled an agreement and stepped aside. He completely overwhelmed her with his presence, his heat, and his scent that was more than intriguing under the layer of forest clinging to his hair and clothing as he moved past her.
She leaned back against the wall, listening as he walked around the large space, opening and closing the shower door.
It was all too easy to picture her next to him inside that space, water and need racing over both of them.
“All clear,” he said.
She jumped, startled out of her little fantasy. Where was her self-control? She smiled up at him, forcing her thoughts back to their real purpose here. “There’s a cord in my camera bag if you want to start uploading the pictures.”
“I can do that.” His gaze fell to her mouth and her pulse stuttered.
“We, um…” She licked her lips and his tongue mirrored the movement. Her palms tingled. “We need to confirm who was out there, right?”
“First order of business,” he said, his eyes still on her mouth. “As soon as you’ve had a shower.”
This close, she could see the various colors in the day’s growth of his beard along his jawline. Why was that sexy? Because she found everything about Dale sexy. “Right.” She leaned closer, rested her fingertips lightly on his chest. “The shower.”
“Heather?”
His voice rasped against her senses, an echo of the stiff scrape of his beard under her fingertips when she reached up, holding him in place for her kiss.
This time wasn’t a performance for her brother. This wasn’t a display of affection to comfort. No, this time was just for her and, assuming she wouldn’t have another chance, she tossed aside caution and common sense and made the most of it.
For a terrifying moment, with her lips pressed to his, she thought it would be a one-sided embarrassment. And just as she decided to break it off, to laugh it away with some lame excuse about exhaustion, his hands fisted at her back and he pulled her closer.
She sighed, pressed tightly against him from breast to thigh, welcoming the hot, bold caress of his tongue sweeping across hers. It was the ultimate contact high, she thought. He tasted of heat and a desire. Or maybe that’s what she brought to the party.
Her hands curled around his shoulders, clinging, wanting only to be closer, praying he wouldn’t push her away.
He slanted his mouth over hers, changing the angle of the kiss. Her body melted a little more as one of his big hands splayed across her back, stroking and shaping her hip, then sliding up under her shirt.
He unhooked her bra and lifted his mouth from hers to tug away her clothing and leave her bare from the waist up. She gulped in air as her heart thundered in her chest. Surely he could hear it. Her nipples puckered and she shivered under his hot, unrelenting gaze.
Her body longed to feel his hands on her body, but he seemed locked in place. She’d started this but if he didn’t want to finish it she could… could…
“Dale?” Self-conscious, she covered her bare breasts.
His hazel eyes snapped to hers, held her captive. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she whispered, needing clarification.
He caught her hands and laced his fingers with hers, pulling them down and away. “Don’t block my view.”
His mouth brushed hers, fleetingly, as his lips explored her jaw and the long column of her throat. His beard scraped across her sensitive flesh and she trembled. His hands squeezed hers.
“I’ve got you.”
He did indeed. His thumbs stroked slow circles in her palms while his mouth traced the line of her collar bone. His breath fluttered across her pulse points. The fast flash of sensation she’d started was turning into a thorough seduction that went beyond warm velvet skin and hard eager muscles.
His head bent before her as he inched closer to her aching breasts. Wanting to touch him, she tugged, but he wouldn’t release her hands.
She dropped a kiss on his head in what felt like a last, desperate attempt to connect. She felt his mouth curve in a smile against the slope of her breast. She shuddered, aching with the heat of his touch.
Heat flooded her system. Body and heart she was ready for anything and everything. With Dale. “I want to touch you,” she said.
He lifted his head and as he studied her face she felt as if he saw straight through her. “You have.” He turned her back to the wall, raising her hands over her head, and leaning into her.
The weight of his chest covered in the soft fabric of his shirt against her bare skin was intoxicating. As much as she wanted to feel his skin on hers, the delicious contrast ramped up everything to a delightfully unbearable level. Already she was perched on the edge of an orgasm and they had barely begun.
“You wanted a shower.” He kissed her, slow and deep.
“Mm-hm,” was all the reply she could manage.
“You’re overdressed,” he said, guiding her into the bathroom, trapping her between the marble countertop and his strong arms.
“Not as overdressed as you.” She met his heavy-lidded gaze and licked the taste of him off her lips. “I can fix that,” she said, reaching for him.
He chuckled. “Oh, no. This is for you.”
She gasped when he spun her around, framing her perfectly in the mirror as he kissed his way down her neck, over her shoulder…
“Trust me?”
She met his gaze in their reflection. “Yes.” Her body pulsed with need. With a desperation she didn’t recognize. Somehow Dale knew exactly what to do, stripping away her remaining clothes and weaving a seductive spell over her with every heartbeat. As he lavished her with his hands and mouth, all she could do was savor the experience, absorb every caress, until the pleasure left her shaking.
Awash in the aftermath of her release, feeling weak as a kitten, she let herself snuggle into his secure embrace. He stroked her hair, her shoulders. As if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“I’ll start the water for you.”
“Thanks.” As he stepped away, she wanted to forget the damn water, tear off his clothes and apply herself to the task of making him feel as boneless and content as she felt now.
But he was focused on making everything in the shower perfect. It felt like avoidance to her, but maybe he had some OCD thing with showers. By rights, as the naked person in the room, she should be the one feeling awkward, but it seemed as if Dale had claimed that role for himself.
“Dale?” He turned and the intensity burning in his eyes gave her hope as he looked her over from head to toe.
“I’ll just, ah, leave you to it.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He echoed the word, a frown creasing his brow.
“You should join me,” she suggested, amazed that she sounded so calm. Her body still cried out for his and it was a miracle she wasn’t a desperate puddle on the floor.
“No, thanks.”
Her warm afterglow turned decidedly chilly. “Hang on,” she said, catching his arm as he tried to move by her. “You’re giving me the impression that, um, what just happened was about pity. Or maybe some kind of distraction.”
He pulled up to his full height, but his eyes were full of some softer emotion. Sadness?
“It wasn’t that.”
That was a good start, but letting him get away seemed like the worst idea ever. “Do we need to talk?”
“God, no.”
Her sexual relationship experience wasn’t vast, but she understood guy-speak for “yes, but not now.”
“Your water’s ready.”
“Great.” She held her ground, refusing to release him. “Dale, you don’t just give a woman a soul-shattering orgasm and then toddle off like nothing happened.” Suddenly, she didn’t want to think of him with another woman. With a real fiancée—no matter how former she might be.
“Toddle off?” His eyebrows aimed for his hairline.
She glared at him, heedless of her nudity. “Of all those words, that’s what you heard?”
“It seemed the most absurd.”
“Absurd,” she sputtered. The man was impossible and still impossibly aroused. Why were they standing here arguing when she could be doing something about it? For both of them.
“Take your shower, Heather. Then we can work the evidence.”
He was attracted to her and recognizing that gave her courage. Assessing what that attraction meant in the big scheme of things could wait. A man didn’t touch a woman with the finesse and care he’d applied to her body if all he needed was a quick release.
Something else was bothering him. Something she wanted to root out. No, he might not realize it but she wasn’t letting him dodge her another minute.
“The evidence can wait, Mr. FBI.” She reached out, pushed the door closed and stepped in front of it. “We have more important things to address right now.”
***
Dale shook his head slowly.
They both knew she was a useless barricade, but he admired her determination and pluck. He admired far more than that. More than he should.
If he didn’t get away from her, he would take more than he should. Her body, lean and strong called to him like a mythical siren. Her attitude and current temper only enhanced the overall package.
Her skin was rosy from his attention. He’d never forget the way she surrendered to the sensual rush. She was incomparable.
Purposely being crass, he adjusted himself in front of her. Why couldn’t she accept a good experience and let the tangle of emotions and commitments go?
He’d known responding to that sweet kiss would be a mistake, but he hadn’t anticipated how quickly she’d reach inside him and pull out something he didn’t ever want to see again.
His heart.
“Take your shower.” She had no idea the baggage he carried around. He’d lived long enough to make serious mistakes that didn’t bear repeating. She was barely out of college. Everything good in life was out there waiting for her.
“You’re underestimating me.”
Yes. He had been from the beginning. “You let it happen,” he reminded her. “I’m trying to correct that now,” he said between gritted teeth as she took a step closer.
He saw it in his mind: he’d put his hands on her hips, pivot her around and make his escape. But then she asked the one question his ego couldn’t ignore.
“What are you afraid of, Dale?”
Damn it. “Too many things.” Failing. Lester. Pain. Bingham. Weakness. Her brother. Exposure.
His mind blanked, thankfully, when she stepped closer. Her scent surrounded him. He was lost. She didn’t deserve the images that flooded his brain.
“Take off your shirt.”
He yanked it from his body and then reached for his pants.
“Hold it.”
He froze, watching her warily as she sidled up to him. Her bare body pressed against him, her hands swept up his back and curled around his shoulders. She kissed him softly on the lips, careful not to make any contact below his waist. Tease. Then she stepped back out of his reach.
“Now.”
“Now what?”
She laughed, the low, sexy sound drifting over him. “Now take off the rest.” She wiggled her fingers, urging him on when he hesitated.
He should go. Just nudge her into that big shower stall, close the door, and go.
To Alaska. It might be far enough away.
He stopped, his fly open, pants hanging low on his hips. It wasn’t too late to be sensible. He would regret not making the most of this moment, but he absolutely, should not go through with this. “Heather.”
“You need help? Happens to all of us. Back up.” She dropped to her knees, head bent as she unlaced his boots and tugged them off his feet.
When she lifted her face, smiling up at him, he knew the fight was over. Had been since she’d kissed him in the car.
Her long fingers gripped his pants, easing them down his legs and tossing them aside. Her touch was tender as she stroked over his body, exploring him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt anything so gentle or nurturing. Her breath caught and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her revulsion when she saw the puckered scar and misshapen muscles of his thigh.
Now she knew what the Army had decided years ago. He was defective, unstable. Unreliable. The FBI didn’t hold it against him because they could keep him on a desk and his investigative skills were top notch. Except he wasn’t using those skills at the moment. He was taking advantage of a beautiful woman, letting a rush of blood chemistry trump logic.
“Look at me.”
He wanted to comply, but he knew his limitations. All of them. He would lose it if he looked down and saw anything other than desire in her brown eyes.
“No.” He couldn’t take the chance. He kept his gaze on the ceiling. A man who wasn’t broken would lift her into his arms, step into that steaming shower and worship her until they both trembled with spent desire.
He couldn’t be that man. When he trembled, it was with weakness. His leg wouldn’t handle the strain and he didn’t want to disappoint her. “I can’t,” he confessed on a ragged whisper.
She scattered tiny kisses all over his good leg, teasing him but not giving him what his body longed for. She couldn’t even touch his bad leg. He understood. It was a disgusting sight. Had already driven one woman to flee.
“Relax,” she murmured against his chest as she rose and stepped into him. “I’ve got you,” she continued, drawing him into the clouds of steam.
“I can’t.” Voicing the denial made his weakness too real. He could do anything she wanted in a bed. But she seemed determined to have him in the one place he couldn’t safely perform.
“For a shower.” She crossed her heart. “That’s all.”
“Right.” He didn’t want to spell it out for her.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she confessed abruptly. “I know we’re safe here, but…”
“I’d be a less distracted bodyguard if I was in the other room.”
“That’s debatable. You’ve been acting like I’m irresistible.”
“You are.”
“Then get in here. I’ll wash your back,” she lifted his palm to her lips and gave it a kiss, “if you’ll wash mine.”
He stepped into the steamy shower with her, unable to resist the idea of having her hands on him.
Under the hot spray, she surprised him, apparently satisfied with nothing more than a few hot kisses during their soapy exchange.
As he washed the sleek muscles of her back, he massaged a few of the knots in her shoulders and she arched into his touch like a cat. She returned the favor, adding in soft kisses as she rinsed away the soap.
His body responded swiftly and urgently. The case was the last thing on his mind when he shut off the water and wrapped her in the luxurious hotel bath sheet.
“Heather, I’d like t—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence if it involves the words, case, investigation, or pictures.”
He nipped at the pad of her finger. “You might want to stop interrupting me.”
“Prove it.” She folded her arms, waiting.
“Heather,” he began again, “I’d like to open the champagne.”
“Oh.”
He pulled her firmly against him, loving the way her eyes went wide with anticipation. “And find out what it tastes like on your skin.”
“Oh. Yes, please.” The smile on her lips was unlike any of the others he’d seen before. He felt a ridiculous surge of pride in the accomplishment.
Turning her around, he let her lead the way to the bed.
***
Dale didn’t know a contentment like this existed. Completely sated, with Heather’s relaxed body beneath him, he could make a case for staying here forever. No criminals, no interfering relatives. Just the two of them and all the bliss they could create.
“I should move,” he murmured, reluctant to do so.
She laughed softly, her hands moving up and down the firm muscles of his back. “Maybe I’ll let you. In a minute. Or an hour.”
This woman never did what he expected.
On a groan, he rolled out of bed long enough to dispose of the condom. Returning, he slid under the sheets and Heather snuggled in, her head on his shoulder. She rested her hand on his chest. He stroked her hand, his fingertips catching on the fake engagement ring.
He tensed up. Couldn’t help it. More than ever, he wished this could be the real deal.
“What happened?” Her soft voice whispered into the darkness.
He could ignore it, pretend he hadn’t heard or simply misunderstood. She wanted the story of his first fiancée. He seriously considered distracting her, right up until she laid a soft kiss over his heart.
He took a deep breath, buying himself time. Wasn’t there a rule about discussing past lovers in a moment like this? A moment so fragile?
“She left,” he said flatly. “When I came back—wounded,” he nearly strangled on the word. “It was different. I was different. She left.”
“Different isn’t broken.” Heather shifted in his arms, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He wanted to drown in those eyes. Lose himself and forget what it had felt like in those days after coming home. In those weeks of rehab, when he had stopped making progress.
“She couldn’t—” He swallowed thickly, struggling to get the words out. “She couldn’t look past it. The scar… it was worse then. And it was a constant reminder. And my career… those changes… she didn’t sign up for any of that.”
Heather’s abrupt snarl startled him. “That bitch didn’t deserve you.”
“People are allowed—” How awkward to find himself defending his ex all these years later.
“People are allowed to change. People do change.” Clearly fired up, she wriggled around until she straddled him, framing his face in her soft hands. “For better or worse. It’s right there in the vows.”
“Well, guess my worse turned out to be too much to handle,” he tried to joke.
“No.” She pulled back, twisting the ring and staring hard at the stone. “No, that moment was her worst.”
He couldn’t fight it anymore. In a quick surge, he sat up, slanting his mouth over hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. He let the heat sweep through them, let her words sink into his skin, absolving him of a guilt he’d resigned himself to carrying forever.
But he wasn’t right for her. She sure as hell didn’t deserve to be saddled with him. He might not ever hold her again, but strangely he felt like a better man for his time with her. For knowing her here, tonight.
Feeling strong and whole again had been a pipe dream he’d given up when he stopped making progress in rehab. Yet here, tonight, Heather had given him a gift he wouldn’t have dared to ask for.
It terrified him, even as he gave into the miracle of her.