Dangerous Tides (12 page)

Libby forced herself to pull back. "This isn't real, you know. I'm drugged. Totally drugged." She pressed a hand to her swollen lips, knowing she looked thoroughly kissed. The shadow on his jaw had rubbed her sensitive skin red and she was suddenly aware of her neck throbbing. She pressed her hand over her skin. "You didn't dare give me a hickey, did you?"

"Here, let me look." He pulled her hand down. "To be honest, I don't know what the hell I did." He lifted her hair and stared for a long time at her neck, finally leaning forward to press his lips against the offending spot. "I'd say you have a hickey, unless you have a strawberry birthmark."

Libby stared up at him, unable to believe he had managed to take her over like that. She was always in control.
Always
. She didn't lose her mind over men. She wasn't seduced by them and she certainly didn't have such powerful sexual reactions—not over an arrogant man who had absolutely no social skills, especially one who insulted her entire family. What was the matter with her? She wasn't all the way better. That was the only explanation for her madness.

"What drug?"

She blinked. "What are you talking about? I'm smart, Ty, but why is it I never know what you're talking about?" She let her hand glide over his sternum, rest there for just a moment before sliding it around to his ribs.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers and thumb. "You said you were drugged, that this isn't real. I want to know what drug you're taking."

"Aspirin. I had a headache."

"And aspirin causes you to become sexually excited? Kissable? Totally alluring?"

"Obviously."

He nodded. "Make certain you take one before our dinner date."

A slow smile brought his attention back to her mouth. "Ty, we don't have a date. I'd remember."

"Not necessarily. I'm not so memorable unless I'm kissing you and I didn't kiss you in the hospital. I realize now that that was a big mistake."

Libby shook her head and took a tentative step up the stairs. She felt shaky without his arms around her. "What time is our date?"

He glanced at his watch. "In about a half hour."

"I can't get ready in half an hour. My hair's a mess and I need makeup to go out." She took a firm grip on the railing and pulled herself up the next stair. She was crazy to go out with him. He was arrogant and antisocial, didn't believe in magic and he thought all her sisters were con artists. He'd drive her crazy. Libby touched her fingers to her lips. But the man could kiss and that counted for something.

"You don't need makeup, Libby. I like the natural look."

She laughed. "You like artfully done makeup that makes women
look
natural. If I went like this you'd tell me my nose was sunburned."

"It is."

"Go away, Ty, before I come to my senses and change my mind."

"An hour, Libby. I'll be back and you'd better not be hiding in your house."

"At least you know my first name. If you'd kept calling me Drake I was going to shove you over the cliff."

"I kissed you. I can't call you Drake after I've kissed you."

"You have to forget you kissed me. There's no more kissing."

He touched the red mark on her neck. "There's proof. I won't be forgetting—and neither will you. Take the aspirin, Libby."

Chapter Five

"YOU have dirt all over your face and a hickey on your neck." Hannah greeted her sister with a cup of tea. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what you've been up to while I've been grocery shopping."

Libby blew on the steaming cup. "I have dirt on my face?" She was mortified. Of course she had dirt on her face. Dirt, a hickey and a bright red sunburned nose. She was about as elegant as it got. Standing next to Hannah didn't help. Tall, blond, a runway supermodel with unbelievable exotic looks, Hannah had appeared on nearly every magazine cover there was. Hannah was thin, but she couldn't look bad if she tried.

"Yep. Your face is streaked with dirt, like a commando or something. What have you been doing? And I'm particularly interested in the hickey."

"It's a birthmark. A strawberry birthmark." Libby tried to look innocent as she sipped the hot tea.

Hannah nodded her head. "Mom will be interested in that birthmark. I'll bet she's never seen it before. She should be home in a week or two. She called and said Aunt Carol and Dad were exploring the Napa valley, make that wineries, and she was busy hitting all the wedding shops to get ideas. I think they're having a great time."

"They always have a great time when they're together," Libby observed. "After I scared them to death, it's good for them to take a little time off." She paused before dropping the bombshell. "I'm going on a date tonight and I thought I'd wear something classy. You know, jeans and a T-shirt."

Hannah nearly tipped over her teacup. "You? A date?"

"Hey, now," Libby cautioned with a small frown of reprimand, "that's not very nice. I do get asked out on dates."

"Sorry. I know you get asked out, you just never go. Are you planning on washing your face or is your date the wild type?"

Libby sank into a chair. "I have no idea how I got myself into this."

"I'm guessing the brand new birthmark may have had something to do with it," Hannah ventured with a small grin. "You weren't rolling in the dirt with him, were you? And who is this man who managed to make you forget you're
Doctor
Libby Drake, always prim and proper?"

"I'm still prim and proper."

"Well, the dirt doesn't go with that image and neither does the hickey."

"
Birthmark
," Libby corrected.

"Neither does that very large and outstanding birthmark on your neck.
Were
you rolling in the dirt with him? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Of course not." Libby couldn't control the blush that stole up her neck and flushed her cheeks a bright rose to match her nose. "Of
course
not," she repeated.

Hannah shook her head, the platinum spiral curls swirling around her shoulders and down her back. "Oh, Libby. You're in real trouble with this one, aren't you? Who is he?"

"I'm not saying." Libby kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the small ottoman. "I don't even like him."

"Oh dear, that's worse. He must kiss like a fiend. He's hot, isn't he?"

"He's an arrogant, antisocial adrenaline junkie. With an extraordinary body." Libby scowled at her sister. "I meant brain."

"Body, huh?"

"
Brain
. I meant brain. He has a brain, although he doesn't use it half the time. And he lacks social skills like you wouldn't believe. If he'd just stay quiet we could have a wonderful relationship, but he insists on talking."

"Bummer," Hannah said. "You still haven't told me his name."

Libby rolled her eyes. "Tyson Derrick."

Hannah choked on her tea. "Oh my God. You've lost your mind, Libby. You know that, don't you? You can't go out with him. He's as socially inept as Jonas."

"I know, I know." Libby covered her face with her hand and peeked out through her fingers. "I think my brain is still recovering from injuries."

A shadow fell across them and they looked up to see Jonas Harrington filling the doorway with his broad shoulders. Hannah made a face and Libby put a hand over her neck to cover all evidence. "Jonas, how good of you to sneak in."

"If I don't sneak, Hannah sends the dogs after me. I'm not socially inept, by the way. Many women find me appealing."

Hannah managed to make a snort sound elegant. The sheriff glared at her. She smiled sweetly and took a sip of tea.

"Is something wrong?" Libby asked.

"I got a call from Elle. She was worried about you. Something about a mudslide. She asked me to check on you."

"How strange that Elle felt it, too," Hannah said. "That's why I came home, Libby. For just a few moments, I felt something malevolent and then it was gone."

"Elle used that word, too," Jonas said, "but mudslides aren't malevolent. Don't turn this into one of those weird things that seem to happen when you're all together. I don't want things coming out of the fog or shadows reaching for people behind their backs. Let's keep this simple."

"I was alarmed, but I couldn't tell by what," Libby agreed.

Jonas crossed the room to crouch down in front of her. "You're covered in dirt. Something did happen, didn't it?" The teasing note disappeared from his voice.

"No big deal. Elle is so connected to all of us that she can't help but worry. It was a minor accident. Remember the conversation about erosion on nearly all the cliff faces after that heavy rain? I was sitting near the cliff wall and there was a slide. A couple of big boulders must have dislodged and started it. The rocks smashed the chairs, but I'm fine, a little dirty, but no scratches."

"But she has a new strawberry birthmark on her neck," Hannah contributed helpfully.

Libby glared at her. "Treacherous woman! And I'm helping you talk without stammering, too. What's gotten into you?"

"Why would Hannah be stammering?" Jonas asked.

"Focus on the important things, mighty sheriff man," Hannah urged. "Strawberries. Necks. Rolling in the dirt. What kind of a detective are you?"

Jonas reached over and pulled Libby's palm from her neck. He studied the mark for a long moment, finally whistling. "I'm impressed. Who managed to leave his brand on you?"

"Brand?" Libby croaked, outraged. "It isn't a brand. It's a
teeny
mark, a scrape, probably from a rock."

Jonas exchanged a long look with Hannah and they both burst out laughing. "Good try, Libby," he said. "Give me a name."

"Don't you have work to do, Jonas?" Libby asked. "I'm busy."

"You don't look busy to me," Jonas pointed out.

"Oh, she is. She has to get ready for a date tonight," Hannah pointed out. "With Tyson Derrick."

Jonas whistled again. "Tyson Derrick, the multimillionaire? You're moving up in the world, Libby. He's a hell of a lot better than the toupee guy. That man had ice water in his veins. Ty goes for excitement."

"He's a
biochemist
," Libby said. "Not a millionaire. And he's matured over the years. I'm sure he's stopped all the crazy things he liked to do."

"Well, he climbed a mountain in the Himalayas last year. And he's gone rafting down the Colorado numerous times. He rock climbs and goes parasailing off cliffs. He fights forest fires and participates in helicopter rescues, but you're probably right. Other than driving race cars and getting speeding tickets on his motorcycle…"

"Don't tell me anything else." Libby covered her face again. "I can't take it. Why did I say I'd go out with him? I'm not even sure I did. I think he tricked me."

"How could he trick you?" Jonas asked. "You're pretty sharp, Libby."

"Most of the time," Libby conceded. "But I don't remember anything that happened at the hospital and he claims we had a conversation and he asked me out. I don't believe him. Dr. Shayner said he was severely brain damaged at the time which would preclude any conversation. I'm sure he made it up."

"You're sure?" Jonas teased.