Books by Maggie Shayne (14 page)

Only this time it wasn't wary. It was trusting and content.

He was the animal here. He'd used her like a toy, and now he had to make that clear to her. He had to wipe that damned smile off her face before. Before what, Palamaro? Before it gets to you? Hmm?

Torch closed his eyes tightly, refusing to hear the voice from within.

Yeah, you're right. You're nowhere near ready for this sort of thing .

What do you mean, "what sort of thing?" That sort of thing, fool. t The Sort of thing that's just about spilling from her eyes. Get the.

hell away from her before it gets on you~t His throat went dry, and he heard someone whisper, "I'm not ready for this sort of thing."

"I-ham?"

The'way she asked it made "hmm?" Sound erotic. And it wasn't until she asked it that he realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Nothing."

She bent her head to kiss his chest. Torch slid to the far side of the bed. And finally her dazzled expression cleared a little. A tiny frown appeared between her brows. And she looked at him, waiting, and he knew that she knew what was coming.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him slowly, those probing eyes like pins, pricking him everywhere they landed.

"No. It's just..." He shook his head, looked around the room, for a metaphoric hiding place.

"I need to throw some more wood on the fire."

"No, you don't." Sl~e sat up, leaning her back against the headboard and tugging the covers up with her.

"I get the feeling you have something to say, and I think your first three words are going to he 'about last night."

" Torch sat on the edge of the bed, looking with regret at the soggy ball Of denim on the floor. What the hell was he supposed to wear? He spotted his shorts, damp but drier than the jeans. And within reach, to boot.

"I don't know what you mean, Alex. Last night was just sex. What's there to talk about?" This as he got to his feet and pulled the chilly shorts on, letting the waistband snap into place. Wincing at the icy material on his skin, he tried not to walk funny when he went to the fireplace. He hunkered down, cold material finding new flesh to chill, and made a huge production out of poking the coals and arranging more wood atop them.

"Just sex," she repeated softly.

"Yeah." Coward, keeping your back to her while you deliver the blow.

~"Yeah, Alex, just sex. You wanted it, I wanted it. We're both adults.

It didn't mean anything."

She was silent. He was afraid to look at her. Afraid he'd see tears in those doe like eyes, and afraid of what that would feel like. He hadn't meant to hurt her. Better she understand things now, though, than to let her go on hoping. Better she suffer and ct~j for a few hours, than to-The impact of an unidentified projectile against the back of his head cut his thoughts in half.

"Owl" Torch turned, rubbing his head with one hand, holding up the other when he saw another book coming at him. Hardcover, too. She could have-thrown a paperback.

The second volley ricocheted off his hand to land on the floor. He eyed the lead crystal lamp on the. bedside stand and tried to judge the distance to the door. She didn't reach for it, though. She just sat there, glaring at him as if she'd like to see him beheaded. She didn't say one word. And he didn't ask.

"I... uh... I guess I'll go cheek on the furnace." Nothing. Only furrowed brows and blazing eyes as he backed out of the room, into the freezing hallway in nothing but a pair of damp boxers.

He shivered but figured he deserved' to suffer a little. Damn, but her reaction had him confused.

 
Alexandra blinked at the books lying on the floor with their pages folded beneath them like broken wings. She'd thrown them at him. Her 'frown deepened and she tilted her head to one side. Why?

A short time ago, she knew she would have reacted quite differently.

She'd have been hurt, yes. But she'd probably have accepted his rejection. She might even have considered it inevitable.

Not now, though. Without thinking it through, she'd reacted with an anger unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life. A moment ago she'd been mad enough to seriously hurt Torch Palamaro. Because he~d taken advantage. He'd used her, and dan unit she wasn't going to put up with that.

Now wasn't that an odd notion? Almost as if she were starting to believe she deserved better. Almost as if she thought she deserved. to he loved.

She blinked down her surprise, and turned the idea over and over in her mind. Her outlook had changed a great deal in the few days she'd spent with Torch, hadn't it?

A pathetic wail from beyond the bedroom door, accompanied by scratching sounds, interrupted her thoughts. Alex got up, snatching a bathrobe from the back of a chair and shrugging into it before opening the door.

Max leapt into her arms. He nudged her chin with his big head and emitted a purr like a race car, punctuated intermittently by soft pleas for food.

"I know. You've been neglected, haven't you? All right, come on."

Without using her hands, she stepped into slippers and headed downstairs. Max brushed his head over the collar of her robe and against her cheek. She ran her hand over his black fur and he arched to her touch, complaining loudly if she dared to stop stroking him for a second.

She was stepping softly, almost on tiptoe, as she descended the stairs.

She realized as she crossed the living room that she was sneaking through her own house, just because she didn't want to run into Torch again.

Why?

Damn him for making her feel this way. She was bubbling over with the things she wanted to say to him. The problem was, she wasn't sure what those things were. If she opened her mouth right now, she had no idea what sorts of emotional declarations might come out. She was furious with him for the way he'd treated her. And that was such a foreign kind of feeling, she wasn't comfortable expressing it. Not yet. Not until she'd analyzed it a little more, figured out why she felt that way, and what it meant.

The raw intensity of her emotions frightened her. She'd wait until she was calmer, clearer, before she tried to voice them.

She shivered as she scraped eat food from a can into Max's dish. She turned on the faucet to give him some water, but nothing came out.

"The pipes are frozen."

She stiffened at the gruff sound of Torch's voice, but didn't turn to face him. Instead she shrugged and opened the refrigerator, pouring a little milk into Max's dish.

"Are you all right?"

She set the bowl of milk into the microwave, closed the door, hit the buttons.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He didn't reply. The microwave hummed as thirty seconds ticked by on the digital panel and the timer beeped. She tested the m'dk with her forefinger before setting it on the floor. Max dove into it, tail straight in the air.

"You spoil that eat."

"I love him," she said. She finally turned around, out of excuses to keep her back to him. Then she blinked. Torch wore a pair of her father's trousers, olive drab, with grass stains on the knees. A memory jabbed her heart. Father, kneeling in that stupid little flower bed out front. No more than three feet by two feet. A small strip that had obsessed him, toward the end. Always digging.

 
Torch plucked at the front of the sweater he wore.

"My clothes are still wet. I hope it's okay that I borrowed some of your father's."

"They fit you." She blinked again, looking him up and down, almost laughing at the bitter irony.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, should I? You have so much in common."

She saw his frown, saw his lips part as if to ask her to explain that remarlt, or to deny it But he seemed to think better of it. He clamped his jaw shut.

"I probably should have said something before, but the furnace has been broken since October. I've been meaning to get it fixed, but" -- She tilted her head, and in a moment realized the ancient o'd burner in the basement was running. She lifted her brows in surprise.

"The gun was clogged," he told her, as if she'd know exactly what he meant.

"It just needed cleaning out."

She nodded.

"That's good. When the house warms up, the pipes will thaw on their own."

"Not that it matters," Torch said slowly.

"We're not staying."

"Maybe you, re not," Alexandra replied.

"But I am."

"Alex, just because no one is here now doesn't mean they aren't watching the place. They might cheek in from time to time."

She shrugged.

"I'm staying. I ... need to be here, right now."

Torch frowned until his brows touched. "why the hell do you need to be here?"

"I don't know yet." She looked at the way her hands were clasped together, wringing each other, and made them stop, bringing them deliberately down to her sides.

"I just feel I have to be here. And nothing you can say is going to make me leave. If you want to go so badly, go by your selL " You know damned well I'm not going to leave you here alone! "

"Why not, Torch? Why the hell not?"

"Because you could end up dead."

She lifted her brows,~searching his face.

"That would be a real strong argument, Torch, if you could only name one person who'd give a damn." She strode past him, heading for the stairway, wanting only to go back up to her warm bedroom and put on her heaviest sweater. She was halfway up the stairs when his voice came from the bottom, stopping her.

"Mason "Torch' Palamaro," he said, and his voice was very low, very soft, "would give a damn."

A chill ran up her spine, and she closed her eyes as all the air left her lungs. She had to fight to breathe again.

"I wasn't trying to force you to say that," she whispered, knowing that was exactly what she'd been trying to do, consciously or not.

"I know."

She turned slowly, met his eyes, saw the turmoil in them. This wasn't easy for him. He was hurting so much. It was palpable, his pain. He was almost writhing with it, and she wanted to ease it for him. She offered him a smile that felt weak, and lifted her brows.

"Mason, huh?

His lips turned up a little at the corners, and the confusion in his eyes cleared.

"Yeah. And that's the last time I want to hear you say it."

"All right ... Mason." She turned around and continued up the stairs.

Torch followed, making angry noises. Ig-noting him, she went back into the bedroom, rubbing her arms and hurrying to stand close to the fireplace He came in behind her, but she noticed his hesitation in the doorway.

God, he really was scared to death of her, wasn't he?

After a moment's apparent indecision he came inside and closed the door.

 
"You, uh... you can bring the cat, if you want," he said, coming to stand beside her. Not too close beside her. Not even close enough.

She realized with a little surprise that she wanted to be dose to him, close enough to feel his body heat and hear the pounding of his heart.

She wanted to be wrapped up in his "Bring the cat where?"

"To the camper." He glanced down at her with a wary frown.

"I told you, I'm not going hack to the camper."

He swore a long stf'earn, turn' rag in a slow circle, ruffling his hair with one hand.

"I thought we settled this."

"We didn't settle a thing. I said I was staying here and I meant it ."

"And what about Scorpion's thugs?"

"What about them? Torch, they'll find us just as quickly if we leave.

There's no way we can get out of here without leaving clear tracks in that new snow out there, unless you sprouted wings overnight. "; He opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. Frowned, shook his head, opened his mouth. Closed it again. Finally he lifted his hands, palms up.

"Okay. all right. We'll stay."

Alexandra felt her brows shoot upward in surprise. She tilted her head, questioning him without a word.

"When you're right, Alexandra, you're right. We're staying."

She smiled fully. She'd half expected him to spout some obvious, simple solution to the problem of tracks, one that had eluded her. It was nice to be right once in a while, she decided.

And he smiled, too, as if he knew every. thought that went through her mind~ So she held his gaze, and she thought about the way it felt when he kissed her, when he touched her. His smile faded, and his gaze dipped lower, skimming over her neck and down the front of her robe.

 
"It's cold," he said.

"Why don't you get dressed while I try to find something for breakfast."

She nodded, but he was gone so quickly she wasn't certain he ever saw it.

He wanted, It had been a very long time ~'nice he'd wanted like ~thi~.

Every time-she looked at him with those big brown eyes, he had to battle an urge to pull her into his arms. He wanted to hold her very close, very gently, and rock her and warm her, and whisper soft words into her ears. He wanted to kiss her. At the oddest moments, for no apparent reason,-he kept. wanting to cover her moist, warm lips with his. He was craving her taste. He'd never experienced feelings this intense.

Not ever. And he' didn want to experience them now.

Damreit, I'm not ready.

A voice from within laughed at him, and he cringed. Hell, there was no use dwelling on all of this now, anyway. There was one thing in his future, and only one thing. The capture and murder of Scorpion.

Torch had nothing to lose, and he wouldn't be able to pull this thing off if that were no longer the case. Nothing to lose meant nothing he wouldn't do. Nothing he wouldn't give up. Nothing he wouldn't risk in order to get the bastard. It was Torch's mission in life, his one chance to make up for letting his family down. For getting them killed.

He might end up in prison because of it, but that was a price he was willing to pay. He might end up dying in the effort to bring Scorpion down. That, too, was a risk worth taking.

Already his determination was compromised, and it ate at his guts to know it. He was not, he admitted, willing to risk Alexandra's life to get Scorpion. Which was why he had to get that formula and get her the hell out of here before Scorpion showed up.

By late afternoon the house was warm and the water was running again.

From the looks of the robin's-egg sky and blinding sunlight, he figured the main roads were probably cleared by now. If the lawyer had been coming home today, he'd have been able to get through.

He sat on a m-colored settee with scrolled hardwood arms and legs, near the window, sipping coffee. Alexandra came in and sat beside him, and his arm moved. He caught himself in the nick of time. He'd damn near slipped ~ arm around her shoulders and drawn her close, His body seemed to function on automatic pilot when she got near him. It had all these impulses that just came without consulting his brain for permission.

Damn, he'd never been so out of control before.

"I don't thing I thanked you for coming after: me last night," she said, Her eyes. Damn how they got to him. She should have been just fine out there in the forest last night. She looked so much as if she belonged there.

"I can't imagine how you managed to carry me all the way back here.., with your shoulder, I mean."

His shoulder. Funny, how he hadn't given it a second thought last night. It ached now, and common sense said it must have been hurting then. But he'd been too focused on Alex to notice.

"So... anyway... thanks. You saved my life."

 
"You can thank me by promising not to leave me like that again." He blinked twice. The words hadn't come out the way he'd intended.

"I mean" -- "I promise."

Intense, those eyes. Damn, she was reading more into this whole thing than there was.

"It's about time I head out," he managed to say, thinking it high time they changed the subject.

"Maybe Mc-Marius is home by now. I'll take you to the camper, get you settled in there, before I go on into town."

"You're going alone?" ~ He nodded.

"After last night--after you almost froze to death in the woods last night, I mean--I-don't think hiking down this mountain is exactly what you ought to be doing."

"James won't give you my things if I'm not there." She sipped her own coffee, and a tendril of steam rose in front of her face.

"Besides, we don't have to walk."

"I know you have a car in the garage," he told her.

"I saw it out there the first night. But even if Scorpion's thugs did nit do something to disable it before they broke in that first time, we couldn't drive through all that snow."

She smiled mysteriously.

"We don't have to walk."

"What are we gonna do, Alex? I still haven't sprouted wings, and I don't see any sled dogs nearby."

She laughed and Torch went silent, just listening. He loved to hear her laugh. Her voice was like smoke when she spoke, but it became a drugging smoke 'when she laughed. Entrancing. Mesmerizing. The fragrant smoke of enchanted incense. Her eyes added to the magic by lighting when she smiled. He liked that. And he liked the way her eyeteeth were slightly crooked, and the way the dimple in her left cheek seemed to wink at him, and. i'm not ready for this sort of thing.

Right.

She lowered her head, and a long lock of black satin hair fell across her cheek. His hand rose up to' push it away and tuck it behind her ear. The feat was accomplished before he remembered to tell his hand not to do that. She looked up again, still smiling.

"There's a snowmobile in the shed. And we have gasoline stored out there, as well. We won't need to walk into town." ' "Oh." It was all he could think of to say.

"So can I go with you?"

He was nodding before he could stop himself. And the next thing he knew, Alex was in the hall closet, pulling out heavy coats and mittens and a couple of plaid woolen scarfs. "Helmets are .in the shed, with the machine," she told him.

Tomh nodded. He had a small bag of his own packed and waiting near the door. Things he'd need if it turned out the McManuses hadn't returned from their trip yet, some picked from what was left of the equipment in the duffel. Other stuff scavenged from around the house. He ought to be thinking about how he would handle that eventuality, because there was no question Alexandra would argue.

She'd changed; Right before his eyes in a matter of a ouple of days, she'd changed There was something. that core of strength he'd sensed in her from the start, maybe. It wasn't so deeply buried anymore, She didn't have to fight so hard to find it now.

"Seemed brushes with death agreed with the lady.

He had to give his head a shake when he realized he was standing still, staring at her, with what had. to be a silly smile on his face.

It was no wonder she'd stayed here. Alexandra looked up at the last traces of red-orange sun blazing from the horizon, under a cloudless, multihued sky, as the machine beneath her sped over the snow. Pines with white puffs painting their boughs. Rolling, pristine white hills.

It was beautiful here. Before, she'd seen it as a refuge. A place where she could hide from life and its frequent disappoint merits.

Only tonight was she beginning to see the beauty around her.

Maybe because of the company.

She tightened her arms around Torch's waist, figuring she might as well take advantage of the current excuse to hold him. He was so tense, so tightly strung. More so now than he had been before they'd made love.

She hoped that w:is because he couldn't deal with his feelings, and not because he simply didn't have any for her. But she wasn't' a all certain that was the case. And she had no idea how to act toward him now.

He seemed to want to pretend last night had never happened. She couldn't forget it even if she tried. She wasn't sure, but she thought she might be falling in love with Torch Palamaro. Mason, she added silently, with a little smile. But the smile died. It was just like her to give her love to men who couldn't give any of their own in return. First her father. Now Torch. What was the matter with her?

Torch maneuvered the snowmobile through the forest, and then over the fire trail. It was dark when they finally emerged on the side of the main road that led into Pine Lake. As be drove, fine white powder rose in an arch behind them, and ice-cold air chilled her right through the heavy coat she wore. At least her face was protected behind the helmet's visor.

In the distance, a huge white circle stood out amid the snowy trees.

The lake itself, almost completely frozen. Then the town loomed into view ahead. The first house they came to was James McManus's. And there wasn't a sign of anyone there.

Alexandra's heart fell when Torch pulled in anyway, driving the snowmobile around to the back before killing the engine. He tugged off his helmet. Alex dismounted the machine and removed her own.

"I don't think they're back yet."

 
Forever, Dad "I think you're right," he told her. He swung a leg over the machine and got to his feet, snatching the little canvas bag from under the seat as he did.

"As usual."

Torch started for the house, and Alex hurried to keep up. "What are you going to do?" .

"Something you're going to have a fit-about." He stopped at the back entrance, opened the storm door and tried the next one.

"Locked."

Opening the bag he'd brought along, Torch pulled out two long, pointy objects that looked like implements of torture, and inserted them into the keyhole.

"Torch!" Her whisper was loud and insistent.

"You can't break in."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows dancing up and down.

"I just did. " With a twist of his hand, he opened the door. And he stepped inside without a sign of morse. His form was swallowed by the darkness. There was a soft click, and then the glow of his flashlight.

"Come on, Alex. We don't have all night."

She hesitated in the doorway, gnawing her lower lip. A "snap" broke the silence of the. night like a gunshot, and she spun around.

Squinting, she scanned the backyard from one side to the other. The rising moon's light made everything clear, right up to the tree line.

She couldn't see a thing beyond those first few trees. Standing motionless, she listened, waited. Goose bumps rose on her flesh when she saw something move. Her breath whooshed out of her when she realized it was a pine bough swaying in the wind. But what was that noise?

"Probably just an animal. A deer or something," she assured herself, remembering the deer she and Torch had seen before. And their snowball fight. And she. felt warm and safe again.

Squaring her shoulders in resolve, she stepped inside and closed the door.

"Here." Torch pressed the flashlight into her hands. "Lead me to McManus's office."

 
"It's in the basement." She bit her lip.

"There's a separate entrance. I should have told you" -- "I saw it already. Thi.s was the easiest lock. Lead on." Alexandra made her way through the McManuses' kitchen, feeling like a thief in the night, which was exactly what she was at the moment, come to think of it. She searched her memory banks. She'd only been to the office twice, but both times Mrs. McManus had insisted she come into the kitchen for coffee or tea. And the basement door, as she recalled, was right. "Here," she said, and pushed it open. She took a step downward, only to gasp in surprise when Torch's arm snagged her waist.

"Easy," he whispered.

"I just don't want you to fall:" She closed her eyes, resisting the impulse to lean back against him, or to tip her head sideways so she could press her ear to those lips whispering so close to it. Instead, she drew a deep breath and moved on. More slowly now, though. And instead of worrying about being guilty of breaking and entering, she was wondering why he'd be so concerned about her falling if he didn't care about her. And wondering if he felt the same chills and tingles of awareness that she did whenever he' touched her.

She reached the bottom. He let go of her. Her 'disapPointed sigh was involuntary, and he couldn't have missed it. He was still too close.

She turned left at the base of the stairs, moving the flashlight's beam around until it landed on the offi door.

' "That's'it, Torch."

Torch went to it, tried the knob.

"Shine the light on this lock, Alex."

She did. This time he didn't bother with the tools. A simple credit card maneuver that even she was familiar 'with, and this door surrendered as the first one had. It swung slowly inward, into darkness even more inky than that filling the rest of the house. And then she remembered why.

 
"There are no windows in here, Torch. You can turn the light on."

He did, filling the square. oak-paneled office in light. "That will help." Torch turned slowly, scanning the desk's many coffee stains and uneven stacks of envelopes and scattered notes on scraps of paper. He shook his head and turned to the filing cabinet.

"Hey, what do you know?" He pulled a drawer open.

"Unlocked. Let's see, Hollister, Holstein... ah, there we are. Holt, Alexander." The file folder slid from the drawer with an ominous hiss.

Alex stiffened, wondering if its contents would shatter everything she'd ever believed about her father. Or vhadicate him, as she'd been insisting all along they would.

Torch set the folder on the desk and, to her surprise, stepp away.

She looked up and met him steady gaze.

"Go ahead," he told her, "He'was your father.-You'have every right to look first."

NOdding, she pulled out the chair and sat down. Then, hands trembling, she flipped open the folder. Her father's will sat on top.

Beneath that, the letter he'd left behind scribing the funeral arrangements he preferred. The cremarion. Odd that he'd never mentioned that to her. She never would have guessed he'd prefer that to burial. She flipped more pages, found more papers and finally came to a copy of the one she'd signed, giving James permission to retrieve the contents of the safe-deposit box for her. There was a note on the bottom, It said simply, "Safe."

She read the word aloud, lifting her head slowly, turning it until she met Torch's eager stare.

He frowned.

"Safe?"

She nodded, lifting the paper to him, showing him the notation. Torch turned slowly around the room, scanning the walls, stopping when his gaze fell on a tacky painting of dogs playing poker on the wall to the left. He went to it, lifted it down, revealing the small wall safe the painting had been concealing.

 
"Oh." If the single word conveyed a wealth of disappointment, it was no wonder. Alexandra had been hoping to find the truth once and for all tonight.