Daring Dylan (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 2) (19 page)

“Like
what?” He nudged her knee with his when she remained silent.

“Maybe he
knows something he doesn’t even know is important, like Granddad did. Or
someone else might have information.” The tip of her tongue peeked out of the
corner of her mouth while she concentrated, driving up Dylan’s temperature. “If
your father was at the furniture factory the night Lana disappeared, maybe
someone else saw him and knows what he was doing there.”

He dragged
his attention away from her mouth. “Like who?”

“There used
to be a night watchman, Henry Stillberg. He’s retired and lives in Florida part
of the year. But he comes back to East Langden for the summer.” Gracie began
filling the pizza box with assorted trash.

His hand on
her knee grabbed her attention. “After you talk to David, we’ll find out if
Stillberg’s in town and see what he remembers.”

“Okay.” A
faint blush colored her cheeks as she stared at his hand.

He expected
her to move it or stand or tell him to keep his hands to himself, but she
didn’t. Raising her eyes, she looked at him. Cautious and uncertain, yet
interested.

He returned
the look until looking wasn’t enough. Hooking his hand behind her neck, he
pulled her forward. “Come here.”

His mouth
claimed hers, taking the kiss he’d anticipated all afternoon. This was it. No
interruptions, no appointments, no responsibilities, no audience, and so much
better than his wildest dreams.

Without
moving his mouth from hers, he took the box from her and dropped it on the
floor. He clasped her waist and lifted her onto his lap where she nestled
firmly against him.

She
groaned, or he did, as his hands crept up her sides. His fingers rested beneath
the fullness of her breasts and his thumbs brushed her taut nipples. Raggedly
breathing in her scent, he lowered his mouth to her neck and nibbled her
earlobe, exercising every bit of control to keep from peeling off her clothes
and losing himself in her body.

His earlier
theory that a lengthy bout of kissing would satisfy him was soon shattered. He
could practically hear the condoms in his glove box calling his name before he
remembered that the timing for moving on to bigger and better things might be
perfect, but the setting was not. When he got Gracie hot and sweaty between the
sheets, he wanted there to be sheets.

He spent a
moment banishing the lust from his brain and other body parts. Dylan sighed
against her neck and took a deep breath. While he shifted the rest of his body
into neutral, he tried to talk himself into believing his decision was for the
best.

Graffiti
decorated the walls, piles of rubbish sat around them like kindling for a
bonfire, the rickety sofa smelled like piss—he probably didn’t smell much
better than that—and an animal rustled through the trash...

A what!

Dylan
leaped to his feet with Gracie in his arms. Damn! At his feet, a raccoon gnawed
on leftover pizza. This place resembled a petting zoo more than a house, but
the interruption accomplished the trick of killing the mood for seduction.

“Thanks for
the pizza.” He pressed a soft kiss against her mouth and lowered her feet to
the floor after the scavenger scooted away.

“You’re
welcome.” Her eyes clouded with confusion at his change of direction. “I
guess.”

He hugged
her tightly against him. “I should get back to work.”

“I’ll
help.” She looked around the room, and he could see her assessing the greatest
need.

Just like
Little Miss Efficiency to pitch in, but he knew she’d already had a long day.
And so had he. Rolling his head from side to side, he stretched the tight
muscles in his back.

“Let’s pack
it in for the night.” He took her by the hand as she tried to pass by him on
her way to the sink.

“There’s
still a lot to do, and you’ll need a place to sleep tomorrow.” She removed her
hand from his, opened cabinet doors and inspected inside.

“Nah,” he
said. “Tomorrow night, I’ll be in New York.”

“Oh.
Right.” Her features turned into a blank slate as she cleared supplies off the
counter and placed them on a shelf.

He hated
that look. He hated having to explain himself more. “I told you yesterday I’d
be going to the basketball playoffs.” He took a bottle of cleanser from her and
turned her to face him. “I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Good.” She
shrugged and returned to her straightening.

Although
he’d only be gone for a few days, he’d miss her perpetual motion, her
bossiness, her smile. He missed her smile already.

“Would you
like to go with me?” The question bewildered him even as he asked it. Good God,
from what oxygen-deprived section of his brain had that suggestion come from?

“You’re
inviting me go to New York with you?” Gracie perked up momentarily. But in the
blink of an eye her look changed from intrigued to indifferent. She slumped
against the counter. “I can’t go to New York.”

“Sure, you
can.” He was determined to convince her, although he sure didn’t know why. “We
can fly there tomorrow afternoon and come back on Saturday morning if you
want.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She crossed
her arms firmly over her chest. “First, I can’t fly anywhere. Second, the
festival starts tomorrow. And third, Granddad might get to come home in the
morning.”

“Those are
excuses, not reasons.” Dylan shook his head. “You could go with me if you
wanted to, but you won’t fly.”

“Same thing.”
Her jutting chin had stubborn written all over it.

“You don’t
trust me,” he accused.

“Not a
bit,” she agreed, cheerfully.

“I’m a
great pilot. Careful. Knowledgeable.
Experienced
.”

“Don’t take
it personally. I wouldn’t get in a small plane with you even if your last name
was Lindbergh.”

He
concealed his disappointment with a shrug. “A Gulf Stream G-V isn’t exactly a
small
plane.”

“I don’t
care if it’s Air Force One. I’m not going anywhere in an airplane.”

“Right, got
it.” No chance he could talk her out of a lifelong phobia before morning. That
was clearly a task for another day. But New York wasn’t all that far away.
“Let’s drive instead. It will take about six hours. We’d have to leave earlier,
but it’s doable.”

“I can’t do
that either.”

“Why not?”

“See
reasons B and C.”

He could
argue his point, but he’d lost this round. She didn’t want to go to New York
with him, and maybe she was right. They didn’t know each other that well. “Have
it your way.”

She sprayed
the counter with disinfectant and grabbed a roll of paper towels. He took them
from her and tossed them toward a mound of trash. With his hands claiming her
shoulders, he demanded her attention. “We’re supposed to be finished here.”

She nodded
to a broom in the corner. “If you sweep the floor while I clean the counters,
we will be.”

“Except for
replacing the stove and refrigerator, part of the flooring, and the roof. Don’t
look,” he warned as she reached for the refrigerator handle. “I’m breeding new
and unidentified life forms in there.”

“Gosh,
you’re right.” She slammed the door and shuddered. “Even my thrifty soul can’t
stomach the thought of salvaging it.”

“Good.
Let’s go.” He put his arm around her shoulders to guide her away.

She ducked
under his arm. “How are the rooms upstairs?”

“No better
than the rest of the place.”

She darted
toward the open stairway that divided the living room and kitchen. “Let’s look
and see what you’ll need.”

“An
exterminator.” He drug his feet as he followed her up the steps. “The place is
crawling with wildlife. Overrun with rodents. I’d be better off declaring it a
nature preserve and sleeping in a tent outside.”

The upper
level contained four bedrooms and two baths. Gracie grimaced from the doorway
of the first, second, and third bedrooms, but something about the fourth one
drew her in.

Glancing
around, Dylan tried to determine the source of her interest. Notches and
initials marred what remained of the bed’s headboard. A chest of drawers lay in
pieces. Stuffing spilled out of a stained and undulating mattress. He could
only imagine what kind of critters resided inside. Maybe the kind with wicked
teeth that had chewed holes through the floorboards.

“If I
remember right, this room has a beautiful view.” Gracie pushed aside the
tattered curtains at one of the windows.

Coming up
behind her, he peered over her shoulder. The moon and stars sprinkled the water
on the bay with crystal shimmers. The line of pine trees hulked along the
coastline like menacing sentries. A giant maple hugged the cabin and framed the
scene within its sturdy branches.

He gave
into the moment, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her back against
his chest. Her tantalizing scent and the hypnotic movement of the tide helped
soothe the frustrations of the past few days.

New York,
the stock market, and his meaningless social life drifted a million miles away.
A lick of surprise lashed down his spine as he identified the woman in his arms
as the source of his contentment.

He didn’t
want to feel all warm and fuzzy about her. Didn’t want to feel at home here.
Didn’t want Gracie to fit against him so perfectly. Good thing he was going to
get a taste of real life in the civilized world tomorrow, before he forgot how
well it suited him. How rich and fulfilling it was.

Yeah, right.

Natalie
always warned him that he’d been looking in the wrong places for happiness.
Except for the times he spent with his family, his search for anything deeper
than surface joy had proved futile.

Without
putting the true name to it, he knew he wanted what the other Bradfords
had—marriage, with no option for divorce. But the only reason he believed he’d
ever be mature enough to form that kind of lasting bond was because his father
had.

Now with all
the evidence pointing to the contrary, the thought didn’t offer much hope.
 
He’d never been faithful to anyone for longer
than a few weeks. He couldn’t imagine the monotony of trying. Except that
thoughts of Gracie defied monotony.

Still, he
had to believe distance was the best test for this unlikely attraction. He
pulled his arms tightly around her for one final squeeze. She rubbed her cheek
against his chest like an affectionate kitten. A damned sexy kitten. Hell.

He had
every intention of moving away. But first, he bent his head to nuzzle the side
of her neck. Her breath hitched, and she turned her head to look up at him.

Their
mouths met, and she turned her body into his. Her welcoming warmth and sweet
response encouraged him to deepen the kiss. The delicious sensation of her
mouth whet his appetite for much more.

His hands
gravitated to the hem of her shirt. She lifted it over her ribs, past the
fullness of her beautiful breasts and over her head. Moonbeams highlighted the
lace that covered her creamy white flesh. His fingers curled toward the front
clasp of her bra, caressing the smooth warmth of her skin.

He paused
to memorize her breath-stealing beauty in the silvery light. Impatient, she
placed her palm against the nape of his neck and pulled him forward. He lowered
his head to nibble an erect nipple.

Closing his
mouth over the pink tip, he grazed her with his teeth. This was the beginning
of heaven. This was—

The crash
of breaking glass shattered the thought.

Gracie’s
moan of pleasure shifted to a startled “Oh!”

He lifted
his head. “Now what?”

“Another
crazed animal?” Reluctantly, she moved reached for her shirt. “We should check
it out.”

“Not yet.”
He held her firmly against him. “I’ve seen all the wildlife I need for the
night, but not nearly enough of you.”

Although
she seemed intent on continuing the discussion, he captured her mouth with his.
Delving deeply with his tongue, he tasted her voraciously. Her mouth moved
beneath his, and she teased his tongue, abandoning resistance. She pushed away
and fumbled with his belt buckle. Just as she unfastened the clasp, she pulled
in a deep, steadying breath, stopped, wrinkled her nose, and sniffed again.

All right,
he probably did smell like a grub worm, but no worse than he had a few minutes
ago. He sniffed, too.

“Smells
like smoke.” He ground his teeth over yet another interruption.

She lifted
an eyebrow. “Expecting someone?”

“Are you
kidding? If I had a gun, I’d shoot whoever it is. Especially if it’s Clayton.”
He let his gaze linger on her for another frustrated moment. “Come on.” He
refastened the clasp on her bra. “I’m not big on sharing. Let’s get you dressed
before whoever it is barges in.” Smoothing his hands across her breasts, he
settled her shirt into place then rubbed his thumbs across her nipples. “Damn,
their timing stinks.” With a grimace of regret, he took her hand and headed for
the hall.

Heat singed
the air around them, and the acrid smoke burned Dylan’s nose before they took a
single step outside the room. A look of alarm flashed between them as they
rushed to the top of the stairs. Mid-way down, clouds of smoke billowed toward
them, and vicious tongues of flame licked upward.

A fiery
inferno encompassed the entire first floor and greedily ate its way toward
them.

“Go back!”
Dylan shouted.

Turning, he
pushed her into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them. She rushed to the
window by the big maple and tried to raise it, but it stuck tight. As she
struggled with it, he tugged on another one without success.

“Damn!” He
coughed as smoke seared his lungs and the floor beneath his feet scorched the
soles of his shoes. “This old tinderbox is going up fast.”

“We’ll have
to jump,” she shouted over the crackling blaze.

Trapped in
an agonizing haze of slow motion, he crouched and fought his way through the
sea of unbreathable air. Rings of flame consumed the ancient hardwood floor
like a fire-breathing dragon.

Fear for
Gracie’s safety propelled him into action. He shoved her face first into a
corner then picked up the remnants of a dresser drawer. Covering his eyes with
a forearm, he heaved the drawer through the window. She raced forward and
kicked away the jagged shards of glass that rimmed the frame with her booted
foot.

“Hurry,”
Dylan ordered. “You need to get out of here.”

“You, too,”
she insisted.

“I’m right
behind you.” He pressed a quick hard kiss onto her mouth before he grabbed her
by the waist and forced her onto the windowsill. Expecting her to drop to the
ground, his heart almost stopped beating when she leaped upward like a trapeze
artist and grabbed hold of a branch on the giant maple.

Hanging
full-length, with her legs swinging beneath her, one of her hands slipped
loose. He gasped and reached for her as she lurched forward and latched onto a
limb a foot lower than her original target. With the ease of a gymnast, she
swung her feet over the branch and pulled herself up to straddle it.

“Come on.”
She gestured for him to follow. “Hurry!”

After
wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he lunged after her. As his boots left
the floor, it collapsed beneath him, sending sparks and embers gushing upward.
He pushed off the sill and latched onto the branch she’d missed.

In the
fiery light, they scrambled toward the vee of the tree trunk. Reaching nominal safety,
they collapsed into each other’s arms, pulling deep gulps of relatively fresh
air into their dry and burning lungs.

“Thank God
you’re all right.” He delayed for one precious second to inventory her
condition. Soot smudged her cheek, her shirt hung in tatters, and an ugly
scratch marred her neck. She’d never looked more beautiful. He brushed his
fingertips across her cheek. “You are all right, right?”

“I’m fine.”
She smiled through wobbly lips. “You?”

“Couldn’t
be better.” After their narrow escape, all of a sudden life seemed good again.
Very, very good.

Flame shot
into the sky as the collapse of an inner wall jerked him back to the reality of
their present location. He dropped to the ground and held up a hand to Gracie.

She grabbed
hold of it and pulled it closer to her face to examine more closely. “Your
palm’s a mess. From the tree bark?”

“Probably.”
He turned her hand over and slid his thumb across her palm. “Yours too.” He
pressed a kiss into the middle of it. “Come on. That’s the least of our worries
at the moment.”

Clinging to
one another as they retreated to a safe distance, they turned back to watch in
morbid fascination as flames devoured the century-old wooden building.

The roof
caved in with a giant whoosh of heat and flame. Embers exploded outward,
singeing their skin, clothes, hair, and eyebrows. A moment of sadness over the
loss of more family history combined with the sooty air to burn Dylan’s eyes
with a sheen of tears.

“We should
call for help,” Gracie said as they fled to a safer vantage point.

“Not much
help for it now,” he murmured.

“There
could be other dangers.”

“We’ve had
plenty of rain lately, so it shouldn’t spread.”

He led her
in a wide circuit around the burning cabin to where their cars were parked. She
stayed snug by his side. He nodded, but his mind was someplace else, on
something that nagged at him just below the surface. And then it hit him.
“Gracie, what do you hear?”

She tilted
her head to listen. “I can’t hear anything over the roar of the fire.”

“And a boat
engine. Do you hear it?”

“Yes! Out
in the cove. Maybe the Coast Guard or night fishermen saw the fire and are
coming in to investigate.”

“It sounds
like it’s going out to sea, not coming in.”

“Yeah, it
does. No help there.” She reached into her jeans pockets and came out empty
handed. Her face rumpled in the wash of a fiery glow. “Oh no,” she said, tears
welling. “I don’t have my keys.”

“It’s all
right, babe. Don’t cry.” He pulled her to him.

“My keys
and my phone were in my jacket pocket,” she got out before the tears spilled
down her cheeks. “Inside the cabin.”

Tears and
Gracie. He never would have thought the two went together, but he sympathized
with the reaction. The least little thing would set him off right about now,
too.

“Shhh,
shhh,” he soothed, cuddling her against him. “Everything will be all right.
I’ll get you a new jacket and phone, and your grandmother probably has a spare
set of keys.”

“But you
could have been killed.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands as she
battled for control.

His own fear
at seeing Gracie’s life at risk resurfaced, making speech difficult. “Me? I was
more worried about getting you out of there than anything else.”

They looked
at each other with sudden awareness. With their gazes linked, he felt their
hearts link together too.
Click
. As
simple as that. There was so much to say, too much. As it always seemed to be
the case with Gracie, this was the wrong time and the wrong place.

“Call the
fire department.” He put his hand on her arm and pushed her away, choosing to
end the moment rather than say something inopportune. “My new cell phone gets
pretty good reception out here. It’s in the car.”

“It’s been a
hell of a night.” Dylan brought the Navigator to a stop by the carriage house
near dawn.

“Yeah.”
Gracie nodded, too numb and tired to say more.

Staying
busy had been the only way she’d been able to keep from trembling continuously.
Since she’d been a volunteer firefighter in the past, she’d donned fire gear
and helped out when one of the men needed a break. Taking Dylan’s car, she’d
gone for food and coffee more than once. She’d administered first aid as needed
and answered questions asked by the fire marshal and police chief. She and
Dylan had stayed until there was nothing left to do but sift through the ashes.