Fools Rush In (11 page)

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Authors: Ginna Gray

BOOK: Fools Rush In
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Though he found it delightful, it was that very same impulsive nature that worried Max the most. It could get Erin killed. It nearly had already. A cold fear clutched at Max, and his arm tightened about Erin as he relived those terrifying moments when he'd watched, helpless, as she'd careered down that mountain road. He hoped to God that he never had to witness anything like that again.

His gut told him that whoever had caused that ''accident" wasn't going to give up. Until the perpetrator was caught and this whole mess cleared up, both women were going to be in danger. Which was why he intended to stick to Erin like ugly on an ape.

Max looked down at her, sleeping peacefully against his shoulder, and smiled. Actually, he would have preferred to stash her away somewhere safe, maybe under Sam's watchful eye, while he made this trip alone, but he had known better than to even suggest it. Furthermore, he shuddered to think what she might have taken it into her head to do in his absence.

Her ex-husband was right about one thing: Erin was unique. She would lead a man a merry chase, and give him a few gray hairs in the process, but he had a feeling that life with her would never be dull or ordinary.

No, Erin wasn't a woman for hearth and home and fireside dreaming, Max thought with a wry smile, trailing his fingers down the velvety curve of her cheek. But then, what the hell? He'd never hankered for a pipe and slippers anyway.


Erin didn't want to wake up. She was lost in the mists of a delicious, incredibly erotic dream. Firm male lips rocked softly over hers, the very gentleness of the kiss making it so exquisitely sensual that every cell in her body tingled. A large hand cupped her breast, fingers flexing about her sensitive flesh, making it burgeon and ache. She could feel her nipple pushing against the warm, hard palm, a tight, turgid button of desire. With every shallow breath she drew in a heady masculine scent.

The lips withdrew, then returned to nibble again.

Erin sighed and pressed closer.

"Erin." A nimble tongue outlined her eager mouth and probed the corners. "Erin, we're about to land."

Lips rubbed in lazy seduction, breaths mingled. Teeth nipped her, and Erin moaned at the sweet savagery, then moaned again when her lower lip was caught by that wonderful, marauding mouth and sucked gently.

When released, she protested, but the sound turned into a purr of feminine delight as a line of kisses was strung across her cheek. Hot, moist breath filled her ear, sending rivers of fire through her, making her nipples ache and throb, her womanly core burn. Erin shivered deliciously.

"Erin. Sweetheart, wake up," the husky voice said in her ear. "We're in Las Vegas. We have to change planes."

She frowned and tried to ignore the voice that seemed intent on dragging her from the pleasurable dream, but in the next instant a bump and a screech jarred her rudely awake.

Erin started. Her eyes flew open and darted around in confusion. It took her a moment to realize that she was in a plane, and it was hurtling down a runway, engines whining under the reverse thrust of power. It took another second before it registered on her muzzy brain that she was practically lying in Max's lap, and his hand was massaging her breast while his lips roamed greedily over her neck.

She hadn't been dreaming at all!

"Max! What on earth do you think you're doing?" Erin shoved at his shoulders and scrambled to sit up. Flustered, she hastily straightened her clothing and patted her mussed curls, shooting Max an accusing look out of the corner of her eye and trying her best to ignore the way her body still tingled.

Max grinned. "Sorry," he said guilelessly, although there wasn't an ounce of repentance in those dancing blue eyes. "I tried shaking your shoulder, but you only snuggled closer. Actually, it was nice, but the way you were climbing all over me, I had to wake you up somehow, before it got embarrassing."

"Very funny, Delany." Pretending not to notice her cheeks burning, Erin pulled a compact from her purse.

By the time she had powdered her nose and repaired her lipstick the plane had taxied to the gate and the passengers had begun departing.

Although they had arrived a bit behind schedule, they made their connecting flight with no hitch. This time, though, Erin made sure she stayed awake all the way to San Francisco.

They were even further behind schedule when they landed, and a mechanical problem with the luggage conveyor caused another delay. It was after five in the morning when they arrived at the bus station, and by then Erin was so exhausted that she could barely hold her head up. They had four hours until the bus arrived, and Max suggested that they check into a hotel and get some rest while they waited. Erin, however, stubbornly refused to budge.

"I'm not leaving here until I can take Elise with me," she said, collapsing onto a seat close to the door where arriving passengers entered.

Max sighed and sat down next to her. "All right, hardhead, have it your way. It doesn't matter anyway. At this point I'm so tired that I could probably sleep sitting up."

Slipping an arm around her, he pulled her close, pressed her face against his shoulder and laid his cheek against the top of her head. After what had happened in the plane Erin knew she should object, but she was simply too tired. She had one last coherent thought as she snuggled against him and sank into oblivion. After all, what could he do in a lighted bus station?

She soon found out.

For a while they both dozed fitfully, waking every few minutes with a start when arrivals and departures were announced over the public address system, but after a short time even that failed to penetrate Erin's coma-like sleep.

It seemed to her that she had barely closed her eyes when she was once more coaxed awake by Max's exhilarating kisses. He toyed with her lips, mouthing them ever so softly, and when her heavy lids lifted he pulled back and smiled down at her.

"Good morning," he whispered, and dropped another quick kiss on her mouth. Erin blinked owlishly, and his smile grew. "Wake up, sleepyhead. They've just announced the bus."

"Mmm, that's nice," she mumbled, turning her face back into his shoulder. A second later his words registered, and Erin sat up with a jerk. "It's here? Elise's bus is here?"

"It's just pulling in."

"Well, what are we waiting for? C'mon." She shot out of the chair as though it were spring-loaded, leaving Max to follow with her bag.

The strong scent of diesel fuel and the deafening rumble of powerful engines hit Erin the moment she pushed through the door. Muttering a distracted "Excuse me, excuse me," she darted through the people milling around, keeping her eye on the bus that was rolling into the loading area. The driver tapped the horn as he brought the bus to a stop, and the sound reverberated through the terminal, along with the hiss of air brakes. Before he could shut off the engine Erin was standing by the front of the bus, anxiously watching the door. Max joined her a moment before the first passenger stepped off.

People poured out in a steady stream, all looking tired and rumpled and not in the best of moods after traveling all night. Erin's anxious gaze darted to the face of each passenger emerging. Ten people stepped off the bus. Twenty. Thirty. Gnawing her lower lip, Erin looked up at Max.

"Don't worry," he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "She'll get off in a minute."

Erin fiddled with her purse strap and tapped her foot. Finally she stood on tiptoe and craned her neck, trying to see into the bus. All she could make out through the tinted windows were vague shadows, but she could see that there were only a few passengers left inside. More poured out, but finally the flow dropped to a trickle as the last few stragglers came stumbling off. Then nothing.

Erin and Max looked at each other, their eyes wide with disbelief.

After a moment of stunned silence he grasped her elbow. "Let's look inside."

It was empty, except for the driver, who was making his way up the aisle, checking each seat and the overhead storage racks for forgotten items.

He glanced up and saw them, then did a double take. Before he could speak Erin said, "Excuse us, sir, but we're looking for my sister. She got on this bus in Santa Fe. Her ticket was for San Francisco, but we didn't see her get off." She leaned to one side and looked beyond the driver to the rear of the bus. "Is there a rest room on this bus? Perhaps she's in there."

"Nope. She ain't in there." The driver grinned as he approached them. "You gave me a start there for a minute, little lady. I couldn't figure out how the devil you'd gotten here."

"What do you mean, she's not in there?" Erin demanded with an edge in her voice, ignoring the last part of his statement. "She has to be."

"Nope. She got off a ways back."

"She got off? When? Where?"

The man shrugged. "Sometime yesterday. In...let's see... Las Vegas, I think. No... maybe it was Flagstaff. I don't remember exactly."

"You don't remember!" Erin's voice had risen to a shrill pitch that brought a frown to the driver's face. Before she could say more Max put his arm around her, his hand tightening in warning against her waist.

"But you are sure that she got off, and that it was in a large city?" he interjected calmly.

"Yep. We were at a busy stop, right in the middle of loading luggage and taking on new passengers, when she got off and asked for her cases."

"Did you at least find out why she was getting off before reaching her destination?" Erin asked.

"Look, lady, it ain't my job to question the passengers," the driver snapped, becoming annoyed at her tone. "She didn't ask for a refund. So she bought a ticket to the coast, then got off before we get there. So what? It's no skin off my nose. It's her money." He pulled a clipboard from the rack next to the dash, then turned to them, making a shooing motion with his hands. "Now, you folks are going to have to get off. This is the end of the line for me, and this bus is going to the barn."

Dispirited, Erin and Max reentered the waiting room and in silence made their way to the front entrance. They stepped out into a mild San Francisco morning of watery sunshine, stiff breezes and high, billowy clouds in a pale sky. By mutual consent, they walked along the curving entrance to the city sidewalk and stopped in front of the building. They looked at each other, their faces filled with worry, frustration and weariness.

"I'm sorry, Erin. It looks as if we're back to square one," Max said, propping one shoulder against the gray granite wall.

Even in July there was a nip to the wind. It swirled around them, whipping Erin's rumpled pants against her legs. She crossed her arms in front of her and huddled deeper into the thin jacket. "I know," she responded in a listless voice. "Oh, Max, I'm so worried. Where could she be?"

She looked so forlorn and downhearted that it wrung Max's heart. One side of her hair was flattened, and her face still bore crease marks from sleeping with her head on his shoulder. What little makeup she'd had on was almost gone, and she was so pale with fatigue that the freckles on her nose stood out like splatters of gold paint. Even her bright curls seemed to droop. But it was the sheen of moisture in her eyes and the slight quiver in her chin she was trying so hard to control that got to him the most.

He reached out and fluffed her hair, then cupped the side of her face and rubbed his thumb back and forth across the hollow beneath her cheekbone. Against his dark hand her skin looked parchment white and unbelievably fragile. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. This is just a temporary setback. We'll find her."

Actually, Max had serious doubts on that score, but at that moment he would have promised Erin anything.

Erin lifted her chin and gave him a wavering smile that squeezed his heart even more. "Yes. I know. So... I guess we'd better get started."

"Whatever you say." Max pushed away from the building and took her arm. They had taken only a step when suddenly Erin stopped, gave a little cry and put her hand up to her cheek. Puzzled, she looked at Max, then drew her hand away and stared at her fingers.

Max chuckled. "What's the matter? Did a bird get you? Here—let me," he said, reaching for his handkerchief.

His hand froze halfway to his pocket.

A thin line of blood oozed from a scratch on her cheek, and there was more smeared on her fingertips. Caught in a curl at her temple was a tiny chip of granite.

Max's head snapped around, his gaze sweeping over the street and the traffic flowing by. As he looked back at her he heard a thunk and saw a second chip fly from the wall, leaving a white pockmark in the surface.

His gaze shifted to Erin in horror.

"My God! Someone is shooting at us!"

Chapter 7

The small amount of color that was left in Erin's face promptly disappeared.

"Wh-what?"

"Run!" Snatching up her suitcase, Max grabbed her hand and took off, jerking her along with him.

"Hey!" Erin shouted, almost yanked off her feet.

Another thunk sounded behind them. Max glanced back over his shoulder. When he saw that Erin wasn't hit he gave her arm a hard tug. "Run, dammit. Come on!"

Towing her at top speed, Max zigzagged through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Erin stumbled along behind him, gasping and straining to keep pace with his long stride, her feet barely touching the ground.

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