Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (100 page)

She slid a finger down the front placket of his shirt, her moves so smooth it was only the soft caress of air that let him know she’d undone his buttons. Something nagged at the back of his head, but Miki raised her arms over her head, running her fingers into her hair. Her breasts, lush and tipped with pebbled delight, jutted out, beckoning his mouth. Thought fled as Gideon gave over to the desire, the rush of pleasure, waiting in her body.

“Taste me,” she invited softly.

And he did. He feasted at her breasts until she gripped his shoulders and moaned. Satisfied, Gideon dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands framing her hips as he nibbled down her torso until he reached her belly button.

When the quick swirl of his tongue made her gasp, Gideon gave into his nagging need and pushed her panties down her legs. He leaned back on his heels to look at her, nude except her spiky high heels, her soft curls damp and glistening for him.

Gideon smoothed his hand down her leg. “Did you know these legs of yours keep me awake at night? From the first time I saw you, I’ve been in lust with these long, luscious legs of yours.”

Her soft laugh was lost in the night air as Gideon gave in to one of the fantasies he’d courted in those long nights thinking of her. Gripping her calf, he held her other hip to keep her balanced and lifted her leg so her foot rested on his shoulder. A shorter woman wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without overbalancing, but Miki in those sexy do-me heels was the perfect height.

Even in the dark, he could see the nerves battling the desire in her eyes. Holding her in place, he leaned forward and breathed in her musky scent. Then, with a swift flick of his tongue, Gideon feasted on dessert.

* * *

Alone in the dark night air, Tilda stood and glared at the sight before her. Anger swirled around her like a tornado, building and spinning out of control in a dangerous, deadly way.

Damn Gideon Ross to hell and back. How dare he—how freaking dare he—ruin her plans.

Teeth clenched, Tilda quieted the tornado. Dirt and debris settled around her in an exhausted sigh, scattering across the parking lot of the Spud Doll Factory before dropping still.

Even Antonio had heard the rumors, had seen those idiotic fishing tournament people out at the lake. Now, instead of being scared to go near the lake and the Lights of Atlantis’s reputed ire, townspeople had been seen sneaking around daily.

Almost as if they actually believed Gideon’s crazy plan might manifest.

Fools.

All of them were fools. Reggie Compton for thinking he could stand up to her. The idiots of Rossdale for thinking they had a chance in hell of prospering. That pansy-boy, Antonio. And definitely her do-gooder ex-husband.

Especially after she’d warned him.

Oh, she knew what he was thinking. She was sure he’d sat there, carefully weighing all the options, considering every avenue. He’d have debated all sides of the offer, made sure he wasn’t, technically, stepping over that line she’d drawn.

No one bested Tilda Frost on a technicality.

Especially while screwing another woman.

She didn’t know what infuriated her more. That Gideon had found a way to possibly save Rossdale, despite the restrictions she’d placed on him. Or the rumors flying that he was falling hard and fast for some newcomer.

Tilda eyed the small factory before her. Reggie Compton had taken great glee to impart that one last piece of information before he’d peeled out of the motel parking lot.

It hadn’t taken her long to verify his story. She’d cloaked herself among the trees and followed some townspeople. Besides their babbling about guide jobs and fishing spots, they’d gleefully discussed Gideon and some divorcee named Miki.

It was a good thing she knew the strength of the town’s rudeness toward newcomers. A rudeness she herself had helped foster. This pitiful woman—unable to even keep her own husband, let alone Tilda’s ex—wouldn’t last much longer.

As soon as Tilda finished dealing with the little curveball Gideon had tossed, she’d make sure of it.

But first, she had a town to destroy. It was time to eliminate Rossdale, sell the thorium, and cut her losses. If she played it just right, and she would, Antonio would take the fall.

And in one pull of her fist, Tilda pulled down a bolt of lightning and watched it strike. Just like that, the stupid Spud Doll factory was destroyed in a hissing crackle of flame.

* * *

“Your pants are ringing,” Miki mumbled against Gideon’s bare chest. She couldn’t even bother to lift her head. Her body was one mass of well-pleasured nerve endings.

“Let ’em ring. I can’t feel my legs, let alone find the energy to talk to anyone.” His words were a rumble against her cheek.

Miki snuggled closer and sighed. This was perfect. Good food, good sex, and the warm night air. The gentle sway of the hammock rocked them closer and closer to sleep.

“Gideon Ross,” a woman’s voice screamed through the night air.

Miki shot straight up. Then fell straight down as her sudden movement sent the hammock swinging wildly.

“Sonofabitch,” Gideon yelped.

“Giiidddddddeeeeeeeeoooooooonnnnn,” Reba’s voice rang out shrilly from her yard, cutting through the night air. “Answer your phone.”

“Holy shit. She isn’t coming over here, is she?” Miki scrambled for her clothes. Panties nowhere to be found, she grabbed her dress and yanked it, wrong-side-out, over her head.

Just then, Gideon’s pants rang again. In a quick grab, she snagged them up and tossed them to him in the still-wildly-swinging hammock.

“What,” he snarled into the phone. Miki tried to listen, but the shrill voice on the other end was too muffled for her to make out the words.

“I’ll be right there.” A punch of his finger shut off the phone and an easy shift had Gideon back on steady ground and pulling on his pants.

“I’m sorry, Miki. I’ve got to go. There’s been an emergency. Something happened to the Spud Doll Factory.”

Revenge of the Troll Dolls? Miki smirked, but then she saw how serious his expression was. She peered around until she found her shoes.

“Can you give me five minutes?” she asked, walking backward as fast as she could toward the house.

“Huh?”

“I can’t go anywhere like this. Just a couple seconds to grab some other clothes and I’ll be ready.” Her heels hit the steps and she turned to run up onto the porch. With a quick look around, she yelled back over her shoulder, “Will you put out the candles? I’d hate to burn down all your hard work.”

Ignoring his protests, Miki ran through the back door. Whatever had happened was bad, really bad. She could tell from Gideon’s frantic moves, the worry grooved into his face. Not wasting the time it would take to run upstairs and change, Miki ran into the powder room off the kitchen where she was sure Gideon couldn’t see her.

A snap of her fingers and her grass stained dress and spiked heels were replaced by jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. Miki scrunched up her face, then took a deep, calming breath.

One more snap and she actually had underwear on, too.

She was out the back door before Gideon had finished blowing out the candles in the yard.

“I’m ready to go,” she told him. Slamming her eyes closed, she realized her purse, keys, and everything were up in her room. With a flick of her fingers and the tiniest spark of light, they appeared just inside the door on the washing machine.

Miki swung her purse over her shoulder and blew out the last of the candles as Gideon hopped on one foot, shooting her odd glances, and put his shoe on.

“Miki, this is liable to get a little crazy. Most things in this town do. You don’t have to go. People could get nasty.”

“To me?” And that would be different than what? Their usual ugly behavior? She just shrugged. “You’re worried. I care about you and want to be there to help if I can. I may not be considered a part of this town, but I do live here.”

He squeezed her close and brushed a kiss over the top of her hair. Miki looked up and sighed at the look in his eyes. It was so sweet, so deep. She wasn’t even going to listen to the scaredy-cat part of her that was wigging out over what the look might mean. Instead, she stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was meant to be a show of support, but it changed quickly. She leaned into the hard warmth of his chest, desire reigniting at the slide of his tongue over hers.

“Giiiiiiddddeeeeeeeeeeoooooooonnnnnn.”

They broke apart and Miki tried to slow her racing heart.

“I take it Reba’s in charge of getting you there quickly?” she asked.

“Right. I’m surprised she wasn’t yelling earlier, to be honest.”

Miki opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She swallowed. “Earlier? As in she might have been around. Watching?”

“No. I doubt she even realized I was here until people started calling around looking for me. After all, her house is a mile away, and she wouldn’t be able to see over to your driveway unless she walked all the way out in the street.” The ease of Gideon’s laugh did more to reassure her than his words. Not that she couldn’t picture the flowsy haired Reba standing, arms akimbo, in the middle of the street with binoculars.

“Look, are you sure you want to go with me? It could be hours at least before I’m done.”

Despite the feeling that he was trying to get rid of her, Miki shook her head. She wanted to be a part of this town, of his life. That meant facing the ugliness.

And ignoring the nerves dancing through her belly.

“We’d better hurry,” was all she said.

Gideon stood, hands shoved in his pockets, and looked over the ruins that had once been the Spud Doll Factory. And the sole source of income for the majority of Rossdale.

The flames were out. The damp smell of charred wood and carnage filled the air. Gideon eyed the large clumps of metal, once antiquated, but usable equipment. Now, it was a sea of black ash.

The fire had to have burned incredibly hot to cause such complete destruction.

His stomach churning, he eyed the few people still milling about. Dave Sears sat, head in his hands, on the ground. Gideon knew the guy was trying to get his daughter through college, hoping to give her a shot at a future. God knew how he’d pull it off now.

“Who would do this,” Miki whispered next to him.

“Who? Sweetheart, nobody did this. The kids saw lighting strike. It was an accident.”

A destructive, hellacious, miserable accident. One that Rossdale would have a hell of a time recovering from. A despondent sense of helplessness filled Gideon, weighing him down with useless anger. Damn. It was like they just couldn’t catch a break.

“It just feels...” she trailed off. Gideon glanced over to see a frown of concentration creasing her lovely face. Sensing his look, she glanced back and shrugged. “Nothing. It just sucks, you know?”

“Yeah. Totally sucks.” With one last look and a few words of condolence, he steered her toward the truck and they left. Time to hit the impromptu town meeting and see if there was a chance of salvaging things.

Twenty minutes later, Gideon was rubbing his temple and wondering how long it would be before Miki packed her bags and ran, screaming, back to a real town peopled with sane, civilized beings.

Because there wasn’t one damned sane person in this room besides him and Miki. And he wouldn’t bank on him hanging in for too much longer.

“Look,” he ground out for the fourth time, “it doesn’t matter how it happened or what the weather report said. It will be considered an act of God in the eyes of the insurance company, Reggie.”

“He’s right,” Lon Franklin, the town’s retired insurance salesman, insisted. “You’ll get the standard payment. I know your policy, Reggie, and it’ll be okay. You’ll get enough to rebuild and replace the equipment. So calm down already, and let’s move on.”

Reggie frowned, but finally settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“What’s important is how long is the factory going to be down? People can’t afford to be out of work that long,” Fred claimed, ponderously stating the obvious.

Reggie just stared off in space though, his lower lip quivering.

“Gideon, any chance of that tournament of yours might be a guaranteed deal?” Gene asked.

“It was looking about ninety-percent sure when I last talked to Tim Watson. But nobody here was committed, so he said until we secured the space, got ourselves moving, he’d just keep us on his tentative list. I’d think I could nudge us to a guaranteed position, but some people are going to have to step up and commit.”

Gideon looked around the room, making it clear that the commitments he referred to were from these very people. He was tired of their wishy-washiness. Because they’d hemmed and hawed so often in the past, now Rossdale was screwed. Totally screwed.

Deloris sat forward, looking the most rumpled he’d ever seen her in public. She heaved a deep sigh and swallowed, her chin lifting bravely.

“I’d say it’s time we took some major steps. Gideon, I’ll support the tournament. I’ll open the Lodge, using my own money, to make this work. I’m willing to invest in the chance that you can pull this off.”

Like a floodgate, her words sparked the rest of the townspeople. Not just the ones who backed Deloris and met for secret meetings at her house.
Everyone
. The whole room gathered, started talking and planning. For the next hour, Gideon answered questions, directed discussion groups, and listened to plans.

Damned if he wasn’t pumped up. This was what he’d always dreamed of when he’d pictured being mayor. Not a dictatorship like Reggie ran. Or even the benign control his father had exerted. But this, a solid give and take, a coming together of the entire town.

“You’re really good,” Miki said softly next to him.

Gideon started, then turned to face her. She’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten she was there. Almost. Somehow, wherever he’d been in the room, the sweet scent of her perfume had filled his head. Every once in a while, he’d looked up from a conversation to see her watching him.