The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty (22 page)

“Not one I'd want to get naked on.”

“Well, then, we'll just have to make do.” And with that, he shifted her from his lap to his spot behind the wheel, only with her back up against the door. He was dragging her pants and panties the rest of the way off without so much as asking permission. Of course, the fact that she was helping him might have negated that requirement. “You have way too many clothes on.”

As he maneuvered around, tucking his legs in the well of the passenger side so he could lean down and kiss her bare tummy, she got her first brief glimpse of him shirtless. And she found herself wishing their positions were reversed so she could be the one trailing her tongue across that smooth chest, down that rigidly defined abdomen and across all that taut, honey-toned skin. But then his tongue was marking the same trail and she forgot every last thought in her head except the one begging him not to stop.

“Sweet,” he murmured, tracing his tongue lower, closer, teasing the ends of her curls, nudging her thighs apart. “Oh, so very sweet.” Then he slid his tongue over her, and into her, and she arched against him as he moved his hands beneath her thighs and teased with brushed fingertips as he held her where he wanted her.

She was climbing rapidly, her nails scraping his scalp as she gripped his head more tightly, keeping him there…though he didn't seem to need the direction. And then it was there, hitting her like shock waves, more powerful than the first time as he continued tormenting her, wringing every last bit of shuddering pleasure from her before tugging her down so she lay flat on the seat, and covering her body, or most of it, with his own. She wanted the full weight of him on top of her and kicked at the passenger door in frustration as there was no way to wedge the lengths of them along the seat bench.

He shifted back, fishing his wallet out of his jeans, sliding the condom packet out, before looking at her. She nodded, and that was all he needed to know. “Come here,” he said, shifting back, pulling her on top of him, straddling her across his hips, then looking up into her eyes before guiding her down onto him. “Elena—”

“Don't stop now,” she told him.

“I just want to make sure—”

She pressed her finger across his mouth, then gave in to the need she'd had almost from the first time she'd laid eyes on him, never once thinking she'd actually do it…do this. She traced her fingertips over his lips, so beautifully sculpted, so perfectly suited for her own, then leaned down and replaced her fingertips with her lips as she pressed down and took him inside her.

They both groaned, and prolonged the moment of joining, neither moving, both just accepting and reveling in that exact moment of filling and being filled…and then she moved, and so did he. His hands were in her hair and she was clawing at the seats as they took each other on a wild ride. He pushed her up and over again—as she shuddered through her release, he let go with his own.

Both of them breathing heavily, they held each other for several long minutes. Then he finally pulled her up, sprawled across him, and tucked her against his damp chest. The windows had fogged, the air was humid and heavy, tendrils of her hair lay damp against her neck. But he tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes, and all she could think was that she wanted to be able to look into his whenever she wanted to. Like this, intimate and personal, or across a crowded room, when nothing more than a quick smile would say everything that needed to be said between them. It had been like that with her parents, that connection that no distance could diminish. It would be like that with him. She knew it. She saw it there.

She started to speak, to try and find the words, but he tucked her back against his chest then, and she knew there'd be time later. Reality would intrude shortly, and drag her back into a situation she was heartily sick of dealing with. So she soaked up as much strength and serenity as she could, tucked here, safe. For now.

It might have been minutes later, might have been hours, but when he finally shifted them both up, she only knew it felt too soon. She wanted to curl up and keep the world at bay longer, even as she knew they'd already taken all the time that they could.

He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her mouth, then they both began to dress. Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be said. As she'd known it would be, the silence was easy between them, but that didn't render the reality of it any less profound. It was too soon to think it through, to analyze it, and she was frankly too tired and spent to do it justice at the moment. So she just did what needed to be done. Later, whenever later came, she'd think about this and figure out what it meant. And what she was going to do about it.

She glanced over at him as he settled himself once again behind the wheel. And she would have to do something. Because he mattered now, too.

He didn't start the engine right away, and for the first time, she wondered what he was thinking.

“We need to get back on the road,” he said, at length, then looked over at her.

His expression wasn't readable, and that gave her pause. Had she just stupidly romanticized something that was nothing more than a backseat romp? She didn't think so, but what did she know of such things? “Rafe—”

“I know that wasn't what either of us would have wanted.”

Now she did tense. Was he saying he regretted what they'd done? He certainly hadn't acted like it. Before, during, or, most importantly, afterward. “I wanted it,” she said, quietly. No more holding back, she decided. It was far too late for that.

“I meant here. Like this. It's not…me. Not how I'd have—”

“I know.” She smiled then. “At least you weren't wearing anything tailored.”

His lips curved a little, too. “True. But that's not what I meant.”

She reached across between them. “I know. It's okay. There will be other times.” Her smile spread. “And I promise the thread count can be as high as you want.”

He laughed then and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back first, then the palm, before curling her fingers in to seal it there. It was a simple gesture, both playful and intimate, and because she wanted to hold on tightly to both of those things, knowing what lay ahead, she kept her fingers tightly curled as he started up the truck and pulled back onto the highway.

T
hey drove for a half-hour before he finally spoke up. “You up to talking about this any more?”

“
This
being us, or this meaning Geronimo?”

“Geronimo.” He looked over. “Unless there's something about us you need to talk about.”

She smiled briefly. “No. I'm okay with us.”

“Good,” he said, meaning it, relieved she did, too. It wasn't that he'd worried about that, but who knew what she'd talk herself into, or out of, given enough time. He'd thought—hoped—that maybe she'd drift off and catch a little sleep, giving him time to think all of this through. But she hadn't, and being alone with his thoughts wasn't making things any clearer. Except for one thing. Kate wasn't the only one who was going to do her damnedest to keep Elena Caulfield around.

“Where did we leave off?” she asked.

“You, at the barn, being the last to see Geronimo.”

He noted she tucked her hands between her thighs, but otherwise didn't seem to tense up too much. “Do you really think someone saw me?”

“I don't know,” he said, wishing he could be more reassuring. “It's an angle, and all angles have to be considered.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “I guess you're right. But I really don't think anyone was there. I think I'd have felt it. Or something. I don't think things would have gone this long without anything happening, only to happen now.”

“Still—”

“I know,” she said, lifting her hand. “I understand.”

“So…where were you when the tank blew up?”

“Back at the employee stables.”

“How long from the time you left the barn until the time it blew up?”

She flinched a little, and he knew she was replaying the horrific scenes from that night. He wished he could spare her that, but with his observations as well as her own in play now, maybe she'd recall something of importance that she wouldn't have before, something that would help them.

“About forty-five minutes,” she said.

“Why did you think it wasn't an accident?”

“Because there was a kerosene heater in the center aisle and the tank was sitting next to it. I assumed it was there because they'd just set the heater up for that night.”

“And that was suspicious?”

“No, it wasn't. But they said the tank blew in the attached shed out back. And there was only one tank, according to what they reported.”

“Meaning that someone had to have come in after you left and moved the tank from the aisle to the shed.”

“Exactly.”

“Couldn't it have still been an accident?”

“Yes, but it just didn't add up. The reports had JuanCarlo in the main barn waiting for the vet and the other guys at the trailers playing poker. When the explosion happened, all of them came running. The media reported on every single detail of that night, ad nauseam. So, whoever moved it wasn't one of the people who were supposed to be there.”

“Why didn't you come forward with all that?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Right. I was supposed to volunteer that I just happened to be the last one to see him alive, putting me where it was strictly off limits to go, and with questions of arson flying all around.”

“Maybe the same can be said of whoever moved the tank to the shed. Maybe it was still innocent, still an accident, but they didn't come forward for the same reasons.”

“Maybe. But if I had told the authorities what I knew, there was no way to prove it hadn't been me. I didn't see anyone on my way out there or back. No one saw me go back to my trailer, either, so I had no alibi, no witnesses. And, like you said, I couldn't be a hundred percent sure it wasn't an accident.”

“So you decided to take off and hide out anyway?”

“I didn't decide to leave until I got confirmation on Springer's pregnancy,” she told him. “I was going to go anyway, but yes, that pretty much decided it for me.”

“And if someone had seen you or they determined you were there?”

“I would have told them what I just told you. Then hired a lawyer, most likely. But it didn't. And I wanted to leave, anyway. Springer decided it for good. I just wanted to put all of it behind me. I had a few options lined up, but they didn't work out, then I heard about the position here and thought it sounded like the perfect place for her, and I would use the time to figure out what to do next.”

He glanced over at her. It all made perfect, logical sense. Except his instincts hadn't quieted one bit. “And that's it?”

She lifted her shoulders. “Isn't that enough?”

A nonanswer, but as they were almost back to Dalton Downs, he opted to let it drop. For now. She was still harboring something, but it was only a matter of time now. She'd trusted him enough to tell him this much. He'd figure out a way to get her to tell him the rest.

“So,” he said, at length, “all this time, you never told anyone about this?”

“No,” she said. “No one.”

“Not even Kenny?”

“Not anyone. I was harboring a big secret, yes, but I also knew that I had nothing to do with Geronimo dying or the tank exploding. I also didn't see anyone out there who might have done it. So, it didn't make any sense to put myself at risk when I really had nothing to offer, other than to corroborate the fact that JuanCarlo wasn't out there. But since it was well documented that he was at the main barn when the tank blew, they didn't need my statement for that, either.”

“Did the investigator ask you anything about JuanCarlo, or any of the other barn help that night?”

“No. Not specifically. He just went over all the same questions I was asked back when it happened, the questions we were all asked.”

“I know you think it's my digging that triggered this, and I'm not prepared to say otherwise at this point, but think hard. Is there anything else that might have triggered his renewed interest? Are you sure it's not anything else? I just don't want us not to see something right in front of us, because we've already concluded it had to be something else.”

“All the angles. I know. But I honestly can't imagine what else it could be. Trust me, I asked myself that a hundred times during the call, and after. They've been at this for quite some time now. They're probably grasping at any straw. I don't want to be a grasped straw. But I also don't want the truth of my whereabouts that night to come out now, all this time later. If I would have looked suspicious then, imagine what it would look like now? That's why I was so freaked out. Springer is close to foaling, and I thought everything was fine. Done. In the past. So yeah, it rattled me.”

“So, if all they wanted to know was the same old rehash, then why move the horse?”

“I told you, for medical reasons.”

“That's it? It was just coincidence?”

She didn't bristle this time, which was good. She was finally seeing that he was only prodding her to make sure there wasn't anything left unconsidered. “She was having some problems. I was already a little concerned, which was why I'd told Kate about having Kenny come out to take a look at her. But after the call, yes, it did rattle me, and now that someone might show up here asking more questions, well, who knows what that might stir up? If, for whatever reason, the media picked up on it, I can't have that kind of stress around Springer, not when we're this close. She's already restless just feeding off my renewed anxiety.”

“What about—”

“Kate? Don't worry. If any undue attention comes my way, I'll leave. I wouldn't do that to her or the kids.”

It was what he'd expected her to say, but he hadn't expected the pang of panic that accompanied it. It was one thing, earlier tonight, to suspect she was taking off and plan to stop her. Now…things were different, and he'd be more than a little pissed off if she tried to pull a stunt like that. But he didn't think this was the time to get all territorial or proprietary. Though he'd be lying if he didn't admit to feeling more than a little of both. “And go where?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Springer is safe, so as long as I don't bring down the wrath of the press on Kate, it doesn't really matter. Somewhere until it blows over, I guess, then I'm not sure. Frankly, I haven't had the chance to think that far ahead.”

“You wouldn't go to Kenny?” he asked.

“Depends on how close Springer is at the time. I certainly don't want anyone trailing me to his farm. I moved her there for the express purpose of keeping her out of any media glare.”

Rafe slowed as they reached the entrance to Dalton Downs. Neither of them spoke as he pulled around the long, narrow road leading down to the barns. “Where do you want to park this thing? Do you want it out in the trailer lot, or all the way out by the employee stables?”

“We can leave it here for tonight. I'll move it in the morning. Or later in the morning, as the case may be.”

“I don't mind parking it out there now.”

She shook her head. “You've done enough. This way you just have to hike up the hill to the house.” She looked at him. “You do live in the main house, right? I mean, I know Mac has his own little place down past the back fields, with Kate, but…maybe it's none of my business.”

He smiled. “Since I plan on having you on my million-thread-count sheets, I suppose it would be handy if you knew where they were.”

She smiled then, and he was glad the mood had shifted. “Million-thread-count, huh? Wow, you
are
spoiled.”

He just grinned. “Care to be spoiled with me?”

She shook her head. “I'm pretty sure it will be a test just to get to my own bed tonight. I'd rather wait until there was a better-than-average chance I wouldn't be snoring two seconds after lying down on your bed. Wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation or anything.”

He didn't rise to the bait. “I've done enough tarnishing all by myself, thanks, but I understand. At least let me see you to your bunk.”

“You never told me where yours was.”

“Right. Well, Mac has the cabin, and Finn has a wing pretty much to himself. We use another wing for our offices.”

“And you? You have a wing, too? Are you afraid I'll trail barn droppings in with me?”

“No, no wing for me.”

“Hmm, I'm intrigued. Where do you live, then?”

“I, well, I live in the pool house.”

“You live in the—” She broke off on a laugh. “I'm sorry, really. It's just…”

“No, I know how it sounds. But I like it out there. It's small, but private, and close enough that I can jump in any direction when I need to.”

“Workaholic, are you?”

“Always plenty to be done. And I like what I do.”

She popped the door open. “Pool house.” She glanced back at him and her lips twitched. “You'd make an okay cabana boy.”

He opened his own door. “Just okay?”

She lifted a shoulder. “You're a little intense for a laid-back job like that, but you could probably adapt. Maybe.”

He slid out of the truck and closed the door behind him, then rounded the back of the trailer and truck just as she slid out.

“So, good night,” she said, a distinct huff in her tone.

Did she really think he'd just walk off? He smiled in the moonlight when she turned and bumped directly into him.

“Oh! I didn't see you, sorry.”

He crowded her back a little, until her back was against the truck door. “Intense, maybe,” he said, his voice low. “But I serve a mean martini.”

“I—I've never had one. A martini, I mean.”

“Then we'll have to rectify that. Tomorrow evening, perhaps? Or, actually, this evening, given the sun is going to rise in a few short hours. I'll cook dinner. We can even make it a business-free zone.”

“You cook?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I—I guess I am. And I have no idea why. The great chefs are men. And you're a bachelor, so of course you need to eat, and…” She trailed off on a sheepish smile. “I'm babbling.”

“You're tired. And worried about your horse. Come on.” He turned and offered his arm.

“Come on, where?”

“I'll walk you to your ladder.”

“Thank you, but I don't need—”

“I think we're well past what you need and what you don't. I want to walk you out, okay? It's what
I
need.”

“Old habits.” She held out her arm. “And for the record, I have nothing against it being about what you need.”

He grinned. “Good to know. Now let me be a gentleman, will you?”

She snorted a little, but allowed him to lead her toward the far stables.