PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS (9 page)

He remained quiet after that and Emma knew why. Smiling to
herself, she glanced up in time to see a large tan buck step into the middle of
the road, freezing in the headlights of the truck.

“Mike!”

He slammed on the brakes. The truck swerved back and forth
on loose gravel and for a moment it seemed they weren’t going to stop in time.
Emma grabbed the dashboard to keep from being thrown against it, and finally
the vehicle came to a skidding halt.

“You okay?”

His concern warmed her. She nodded, forgetting he probably
couldn’t see it in the darkness.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” she whispered, and reached out blindly
to touch Mike on the arm. She couldn’t take her eyes off the huge animal as he
stood there quivering, his large brown eyes staring directly at them. He looked
noble and proud, almost as if he were posing for a picture that would portray
his whole species.

“Good thing it’s not deer hunting season,” Mike joked. “He’s
a prime target right now.”

Emma shot him a scowl. “Just like a man,” she responded,
taking note of the impressive antlers on the buck. “I see a lot of deer around
here. Sometimes I look out my back door in the mornings and they’re right
there, stealing apples off the crab apple trees down by the lake.”

“Really? About what time is that?”

She picked up on the interest in his tone, and chuckled in
spite of herself. “Forget it, Detective. I’m not going to be the cause of some
poor helpless animal becoming someone’s dinner. You—” Her remark was cut off by
the unexpected sound of gunfire. She jumped. “What…”

“Get down!”

Emma had time to see the buck take off before Mike grabbed
her and forced her down on the seat. Another shot followed closely behind the
first one, shattering the window in the door next to her. She screamed.

Mike swore viciously, and gunned the engine to get out of
there. They were on a stretch of isolated road and though the shooter was after
the buck, right now they were the sitting ducks.

“This isn’t hunting season,” Emma said from her crouched
position, looking up at the shattered window in her door. Glass had sprayed
everywhere but her heavy wool coat had saved her.

“Those rules don’t apply to poachers,” Mike said in a tight
voice. He spared her a quick glance while reaching forward for his radio. “Are
you all right?”

She nodded.

“Stay down and don’t move; you’re covered in glass,” he
ordered in a hard voice while driving the truck at a dangerous speed.

Emma listened quietly while Mike called the station to
report the incident. She heard him say he’d meet them back there in half an
hour. She wondered what he thought to find in the dark but didn’t question him,
appreciating his urgency in getting them away from there. Whoever had done the
shooting had terrible aim.

A shiver ran over her that had nothing to do with the cold
air rushing in when she thought about what could have happened. She’d never
liked guns and being shot at only enforced her feelings. It occurred to her
that either one of them could have lost their lives if the shooter’s aim had
been any better.

“Were you cut by any glass?”

There was concern in his voice. He slowed his speed when
they were far enough away from the area. He turned on the dome light.

Meeting the fierce look in his eyes, Emma smiled to reassure
him. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry this happened.”

His gaze moved over her quickly before determining she was
okay and turning off the light again.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Emma began to feel cramped on the
floor.

The sudden turn Mike made told her they were entering the
Bear Lake Townhouse parking lot. She grabbed for the seat when she lost her
balance, but it was Mike’s thigh her fingers clutched instead. He sucked in his
breath. “I’m sorry!” she gasped with embarrassment, realizing she’d hurt him.
The muscle beneath her hand flexed, becoming harder and more defined. She
released him at once.

“An old war wound,” Mike explained, deciding it was a lot
easier than telling Emma the truth. Past history taught him that most people
didn’t question war wounds; however, in his experience, knife wounds acquired
in a fight with a motorcycle gang leader were always a source of interest to
someone who wasn’t a cop.

Mike didn’t feel like going into any details about how he
received that injury. He’d only mentioned it in the first place to disguise the
truth behind his reaction. She hadn’t really hurt him, but her fingers had come
dangerously close to his cock when she’d grabbed for the seat.

“What’s your building number?”

Each town house had a large brass number over the garage
door and the streetlights enabled Mike to see them as he drove past. The
two-story houses of brick had wooden flower boxes at each window on either side
of the front door, and a chimney he suspected wasn’t just for show. He liked
that the developer had opted for building around some of the original pines and
birch trees, instead of cutting them down. It gave the place a rustic,
established look.

“I live in the last townhouse closest to the lake, building
ten.”

Mike parked his truck in a spot directly in front of Emma’s
door and turned off the ignition. As he walked around to her side he caught the
reflection of the moon on the glassy surface of the water, noting her nice view
of the lake. He opened the door and glanced down; the dome light revealed she’d
been showered with glass. It was all over her coat, the seat, and the floor.

Their eyes met as he held out his hand. If she didn’t get
cut before it was over, it would be a miracle.

“Let’s take this slow.” Emma put her hand trustingly into
his, and let him guide her out. “Don’t move,” he ordered when she had her feet
planted firmly on the ground. Reaching up, he began to unbutton her coat.

“What are you doing?” She looked around the darkened parking
lot.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked with a crooked grin,
enjoying her sudden discomfort. “I’m taking off your coat. I want to shake the
glass off before we go inside.” If she thought it was odd he said we, she
didn’t show it.

“I’m not sure I want to give my neighbors a strip show,”
Emma explained, glancing around to see if any curtains were being pulled aside.
“A lot of them are elderly, and nosey.”

Mike’s eyes captured hers, his fingers hesitating beneath
her chin. If he were an old man and happened to glance out the window in time
to see Emma’s scantily clad body in a harem outfit, he’d die a happy man.
“Think they can’t handle the view?” he teased.

“I don’t know, what do you think? This body could be a
lethal weapon. I wouldn’t want to send anyone to the hospital with cardiac arrest,”
she teased right back.

She was kidding, her eyes glimmering with amusement and her
tone light, yet Mike couldn’t get past the picture of her on the dance floor
earlier that night, or the feel of her in his arms. And the taste of her mouth.

She had a lethal body all right; he was sure he’d be
dreaming about her long after they parted. Reminding himself he needed to get
back to where the shooting had occurred, he quickly worked the buttons free and
slipped the coat off her shoulders, suddenly wishing they weren’t standing
beneath the streetlight. He stepped back, trying like hell not to let his eyes
wander below her chin.

“While you do that, I’m going inside where it’s warm.” She
turned for the front door.

He watched her as he shook out her coat. His gaze dropped down
the length of her backside as she unlocked the door and flipped on the light.
She turned his way, standing there for a moment, nothing but a shapely
silhouette in the threshold.

Something told him if she knew the light was filtering
through her costume right now, she’d die of embarrassment. Or, was she doing it
on purpose? Knowing he was watching her?

He hoped the darkness hid the predatory gleam in his gaze as
he slowly made his way toward her, seeing Emma in a completely different light
now. Literally. The lighting at the Halloween party had been dimmed low for effect,
and the disco lights on the dance floor had made everything seem distorted. The
bright light behind her enabled Mike to see the full effect of her body in the
costume.

He clenched his teeth. A single thought flashed across his
mind: of fucking her until the sun came up. He struggled to keep his glance
impersonal as he closed the distance between them, but halfway down her body
something caught his eye. As he narrowed his gaze, it didn’t take him long to
determine she’d been cut on the leg. The glass had clearly sliced right through
the sheer fabric covering her thighs.

“Looks like you’ve been nicked.” He stopped in front of her.

Emma followed the direction of his gaze. “So I have,” she
agreed with complete surprise. “I didn’t even feel it.”

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He stepped further into the
room, closed the door behind him, and dropped her coat on the back of a chair.
“I’ll take a look at it to make sure the glass is out and you don’t need any
stitches.”

“That’s not necessary.” She smiled up at him. “I’m sure
peroxide and a Band-Aid will do.”

Mike glanced at her long and hard, before raising a brow
that he knew usually intimidated people into doing what he wanted. There was no
way he was leaving there until he made sure she was all right. The cut was high
up on her thigh and he suspected Emma was afraid of letting him get that close
to her.

Come to think of it, he was worried, too. She was too damn
appealing.

“If you’re worried about modesty, don’t be. I’ve delivered
babies before.” That should take care of her sudden shyness.

“My, you are a talented man,” she teased. “A detective and a
doctor.”

“It comes with the costume,” he joked in return. “Now, what
about that kit?”

She turned and began walking away from him. “I’ll get it;
it’s in the bathroom under the sink, but I doubt it has much in it. I haven’t
opened it since Amanda was a child.”

Mike was close behind her so when she bent to open the
cabinet beneath the sink, he slammed right into her. His hands automatically
went to her hips to keep her from flying forward and for the briefest moment
their positions were as intimate as they could get.

He took a second to enjoy the feel of her ass brushing his
cock before releasing her as if he’d been scorched. Knowing instinctively where
the light switch was located he reached up to flip it on. It was obvious Emma
hadn’t known he’d followed her. She released a nervous laugh, and straightened
up, meeting his eyes in the brightness of the bathroom light. She took a
nervous step back.

The bathroom wasn’t all that big and when Mike stepped
further into the room, it shrank even smaller.

“Sorry if I frightened you.” As he spoke he looked around
the room, searching for a good place for her to sit. There was only one place
high enough. “Up.” He patted the vanity top.

“Up? I don’t think…”

Before she could brace herself, Mike’s hands went to her
waist, and hoisted her up without any trouble. She caught her breath when her
legs came in contact with the cold marble surface.

“You were saying?” He took in her pretty blush, noticing she
couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Do you always get your way?”

There was a slight tremor in her voice, which didn’t go
unnoticed by Mike. He couldn’t help wondering if she was as affected as he was
by their close proximity. He began questioning his common sense. Her sitting on
the vanity brought their mouths almost level.

“When it matters,” he responded. He lowered his gaze, taking
in the blood soaking her costume before opening the kit to see what it offered.
Not much, but at least it had bandages and antibiotic ointment. He set it aside
and reached for Emma’s leg.

She stiffened immediately.

“Ouch.”

His gaze shot up to hers. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“I’m practicing,” she said with sass.

The light in her eyes caught Mike’s interest and turned him
warm inside. For a second he wanted to do something crazy, like kiss that soft
mouth again. He remembered her lips tasted as sweet as they looked, and
something had to be done to erase the humor that always seemed present in her
eyes. He wanted to replace it with something hot and needy. When he realized he
was staring at her mouth, he literally shook his head, and swore beneath his
breath.

“Are you okay?” There was nothing at all innocent about her
question. Not when she used that low, seductive tone and looked at him like he
was something she wanted to lap up.

Am I okay?
Hell, he hadn’t been okay since the first
time he looked into her large, brown eyes. He managed to find enough strength
to ignore her comment, bending to the task at hand. His hands reached for the
fabric covering her thigh, gently parting it where it was torn.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and stop the
shaking of his hands, he carefully inspected the wound. His fingers and
knuckles grazed Emma’s soft skin and he clenched his teeth to ignore the rush
of heat exploding through him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d touched
anything so satiny.

He gently probed the area, and searched for any remaining
glass. Emma caught her breath, and stiffened, her hands falling upon his shoulders
as though to push him away. Mike slowly raised his gaze to hers, losing himself
in the sensual pools. His hands faltered. The glare of the bathroom light
emphasized the situation between them, making it more intimate than it should
be.

“It’s not deep, so you won’t need stitches. But if it heals
up with glass inside, it could become infected.”

“I know you’re not hurting me on purpose, Mike. Maybe I need
a bullet to bite on or something. Do what you need to do.”

What he needed to do and what he wanted to do was the same
thing. If Emma only knew what she was inviting. He was standing between her
glorious silken thighs, touching her; his gaze dropped to her breasts and he
noticed the peaks were crowned. They rose and fell softly with her every
breath, teasing him, almost begging him for attention. God save Emma if she
gave him any sign that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.