Desert Heat (9 page)

She
laughed nervously. “Well, we have picnic stuff.
Our leftovers
from lunch.”

 
“We can sleep in here if we have to,” he said.
He looked over his shoulder. “The backseats fold down to make a bed.”

Sleeping
with him, in even an innocent way, would be a bad idea. Mallory swallowed and
her mouth felt like a Vegas sidewalk—hot and gritty. If it came to spending the
night, she was certain she wouldn’t be able to get much sleep being so close to
Mike. But, surely they’d be out of here long before that. The clock on the dash
said 4:27.
A couple of hours until dark.

 
“Are you warming up yet?”

 
“Some.” he looked at her and his lips weren’t
blue any more, but they weren’t normal either. Even though the blankets covered
him, she could see his shivers.

Mallory
scooted across the seat and lifted the edge of the nylon material and slid
under it. She turned so she half faced him and wrapped her arms around his
neck. “This is supposed to warm you if you have hypothermia.”

 
“It does, but you have to be naked.” His
breath fanned over her ear.

 
“We’ll work with this.” A very warm tingle
shot through her.
Dangerous ground.
“Want to listen to
a CD? What do you have?”

 
“Whatever’s in the glove
box.
”
He didn’t sound interested.

She
looked.
Eagles, Destiny’s Child, Van
Halen
,
Alicia Keys.
Odd variety of selections.
Choosing Alicia Keys, Mallory slid the CD in the player and the singer’s
smooth, smoky voice filled the car. She stuffed the blankets under her butt and
snuggled against him again. This time he folded her in his arms. Mallory
attempted to relax, but crushed against his wide chest, stilling her pounding
pulse wasn’t easy.

Her
knees, poking into the side of his leg, ached and she shifted.

 
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

 
“No,” she had to admit.

 
“Turn around,” he said.

Puzzled,
she did. He circled her waist with one hand. “Move back and sit on my lap.”

After
a moment’s hesitation, she did as he asked. He tucked her under his chin and
wrapped his arms around her middle. His bare legs felt like ice on her butt and
she wiggled a little trying to get comfortable.

 
“Don’t do that unless you want me to get hot
real quick,” he warned in her ear.

His
deep voice sent a hot-cold flush zipping through her.
Though
whether from his words or his warm breath, she wasn’t sure.
She squeezed
her thighs together and tried not to move. Gradually, his heart beating against
her cheek and the heat from the vents relaxed her. She closed her eyes.

Pretty
sure Mike
slept,
his breathing slow and regular, she
focused on Alicia Keys’ music and the steady thumping of rain on the roof. She
didn’t want to think about being stranded in between two raging streams,
Skeeter, or Mike’s effect on her. The way she wanted to stay in his arms, to
undress and explore him had to be due to emotions from her father’s death.
A way to escape grief and anger.
She couldn’t find another
explanation. She never reacted like this to a man, especially a man she barely
knew.

He
shifted and her eyes flew open. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.”

“Are
you warmer now?” Was it her imagination, or did his arms tighten?

 
“Yeah.
We’d better
turn off the heater. If we end up spending the night here it’ll get colder
later. We’ll need the heater more
then
than now.”

She
slid off his lap and first turned off the CD, then the motor. Peering through
the soaked windshield she saw the water hadn’t receded. In fact, it seemed to
have risen a foot or more. “We’re not going this direction.”

 
“No, and we won’t be able go the other way either
if it’s this bad here.” He glanced at the clock. 5:45. “Are you hungry?”

 
“No.”

He
focused on her. “You said something weird. You called Brent’s name at the other
Durango. Why?”

Mallory
wasn’t sure how to answer. He hadn’t exactly believed her up until now. But
this time there was evidence. She met his troubled eyes. “I saw him in
Goldfield when we were there.”

 
“What?
Where?”
He
didn’t look as if he believed her.
 

 
“I just caught a glimpse,” she admitted. “He
ducked between two buildings when we came out of the café.”

 
“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.
I know what I saw. He spotted me and he jumped behind a corner. I looked right
at his face before he hid.” Just like she saw a horse in the desert, just like
someone had rifled her room. She knew she wasn’t losing it.

Mike
looked at her for a minute. “Why would he do that? And why would he be in
Goldfield?”

 
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she said.
“Because I thought he was going to work on the rafts.”

“I
bet something came up he had to tell me,” Mike said. “Cell phones don’t work
out here. At least mine doesn’t. If he thought something was important enough,
he would’ve followed me.”

Mallory
didn’t remind him that his friend had ducked when he saw her. If Mike wanted to
believe the best of his friend, then so be it. She wasn’t going to try and
convince him otherwise.

Mike
seemed to sense her reservations. “I know him. I’ve known him since college.
There’s nothing Brent wouldn’t do for me.”

 
Mallory held her tongue. But she had to wonder
if Brent would rifle her room, run her down on a horse, or follow her into the
desert. Had he found something on the map? That was crazy.

Get
ahold
of yourself, Mal. You’re letting you
imagination run wild.

 
“We’ll find out the truth when the water goes
down,” Mike said.

Mallory
doubted it, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Chapter
Nine

Mallory
yawned and stretched. “Sorry.”

By
10:00 it became more than apparent no one was coming to look for them.

They
weren’t going to cross the ravine. Although the rain had finally let up, the
wash still ran like the Colorado River, fast and high. After they spread out
the sleeping bag across the folded-down back seats, they ate cold hamburgers
left over from lunch, briefly listened to the radio and played a few games of
cards on a deck Mike found in the
glovebox
.

“No
reason to apologize.” Mike stuck the cards back in their box. “Are you ready to
try and get some sleep?”

 
“I think so,” she said. “It’s been a long
day.”

He
indicated the covers. “You take the sleeping bag and stay back here. I’ll take
the blankets and go up front.”

 
“No.” She picked up the blankets. “I’ll go.
You’re too tall to fit up there.”

 
“You’re not that much shorter than me.” Mike
took the edge of the blankets. “Let’s both stay here. We’ll separate the covers
and each stay on our own side.”

She
wanted to scream no, that her entire body sang awareness of him, that he was
too big, too male, and entirely too close in the small space.
“Fine.”

He
let go of the blankets. “I’ll go up front and run the heat for a little bit
while you get settled.”

Mallory
waited until he climbed up to the front seat and started the motor. Then she
folded the sleeping bag, slipped inside, placed her glasses nearby and closed
her eyes. Weary just a few minutes before, she was now wide awake. The carpeted
surface under her make-shift bed felt like rocks under her hip and shoulder.
Mike turned on the radio to a classic rock station. Heart sang
Dog and
Butterfly
. Mallory grinned when he joined in, off key.

He
waited for several minutes,
then
asked, “All set?”

 
“Yes.”

The
radio went silent and then the engine. Mike climbed over the seat and folded
his two blankets. He got between them, facing her, and only about six inches
separated them. He still looked peaked. She reached out and touched his cheek.
He was warm, but not feverish.

His
eyes darkened.

Her own
temperature rose. She touched her dry lips with the
tip of her tongue. If he moved just a few inches closer he could kiss her. She
slid a fraction of an inch toward him.

He
reached out and smoothed a piece of hair off her cheek.

Her
stomach tightened. This wasn’t smart. He had almost drowned a few hours ago.
She was worried about him, nothing more. A kiss or two might help him forget the
trauma.

His
hand slid around the back of her neck and threaded into her tangled hair.

Her
eyes drifted shut. Maybe just one
kiss
. Only to make
sure he was on the road to recovery.
Nothing more.
She
moved another eighth of an inch.

Pulling
her head close, his lips brushed hers.

She
parted her lips. Once she made sure he was all right they would stop.
Just one kiss.
Another tiny maneuver and their lips met.
Just one tiny kiss.

He
covered her mouth with his and tasted her. He teased the corner of her mouth,
but didn’t try to enter. Why? She touched the tip of his tongue with hers,
then
did it again when he tightened his hold on her hair. He
let her take the lead and she tormented him, teasing him with the promise of a
deep, lasting kiss,
then
darting away. He tried to
capture her, but she kept up the game until he moaned.

With
one hand wrapped in her messy curls, he unzipped the sleeping bag with the
other. With the nylon barrier no longer dividing them, he scooted closer so
that their bodies pressed together. His erection pressing against her belly
told her exactly how much he wanted her. If he had any ill effects from his
near-drowning, he masked them well.

Lying
face-to-face, her breasts squashed into Mike’s chest, their legs intertwined,
she wanted to feel his skin with her fingertips. She reached for the hem of his
shirt but he beat her to it, leaving her mouth long enough to jerk the cotton
tee over his head. With slow, curious strokes she explored his chest. Her
fingers skimmed downy soft hair and firm muscles underneath. She spread her
hand wide over his left
pec
, liking the strong,
steady heartbeat she felt there.

There
was more to discover.

Her
palm slid for the waistband of his trunks.
  

No
longer content to let her tease him, he dunked his tongue deep into her mouth
to play his own version of cat and mouse with her. With a firm grasp in her
hair, he held her fast. His other hand reached for her breast. He held her over
her clothes, and the sensation of his firm, gentle grip nearly undid what
little control she had. He squeezed and she cried out, the sound muffled by his
mouth over hers.

Untangling
his fingers from her hair, he slid them down, settling his palm on the curve of
her hip. Mallory shifted slightly to her back, and felt something under her spine.
Drawing away from Mike, she reached to smooth out the lump. Her fingers curled
around something familiar.
Her purse.
She’d placed it
in the back when they’d put the seats down to make the bed.

Reality
crashed over her.

The missing map.

She
had just kissed the man who was protecting someone who had stolen her property.

Stupid move.

Trusting
him was a big mistake. She sat up and ran both hands through her hair, pushing
it off her face.

 
“What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice
nearly changed her mind. But men had fooled her before.

 
“Nothing.”
She
fiddled with the strap of her bag. “We better stop before we go too far.”

 
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” The tone of his
voice said he didn’t agree.

Avoiding
his puzzled eyes, she knelt and straightened her sleeping bag, stuffing her
purse inside. She wiggled in and covered her head, once again zipping it tight.
Keeping her purse strap wrapped firmly around her wrist as a reminder that she
really didn’t know Mike, she tried to ignore her swollen lips and jumping
nerves.

~*~

Mallory
woke up feeling like one big aching bruise. Her whole body hurt. She liked the
outdoors, and camping, but she could do without the sore body that came along
with it.

She
peered over the edge of her cocoon and retrieved her glasses. Putting them on,
she saw she was alone. Where was Mike?
Probably answering the
call of nature.
She crawled out of the warm blankets and shivered when
the cool air hit her. She tugged on her jacket and reached in her purse for a
brush. A hot shower would make her feel like a new woman, but in the meantime
untangling her hair would have to do.

As
she was tying her shoes, Mike lifted the hatch. “You’re up. Good.”

A light
stubble covered his chin and his blond hair hadn’t
had the benefit of a comb.
Very sexy.
Like the rest of
him. His lips, his muscled arms, big hands that made her tingle . . .

 
“Yes.” She bent forward and concentrated on
folding the blankets and sleeping bag and rolling it back into a tight roll.
“Can we cross?”

 
“Yes, the water went down during the night.”
He took her hand and helped her step out. Brilliant sunlight blinded her for a
moment and she blinked. The road looked normal again, with the exception of an
empty SUV sitting on the side of it, lodged against a bent
palo
verde
tree. The rain was long gone, the desert back
to itself.
A puddle on the pavement the only reminder of the
storm.
A clean, fresh scent hung in the air. The cactus-covered
mountains, so spooky the day before, looked completely ordinary in the February
morning.
 

 
“I’m ready to go home,” she said. “And none
too soon.”

Something
like disappointment crossed his face, just for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive
this vehicle? I’ll drive the other one.”

 
“Back to the ranch?”
She stepped inside.

He
walked to the door and said through the window. “No, Goldfield. If Brent was
out here, I want to make sure he’s not sitting there.
He’s
not . . . never
mind. Follow me in.”

Waiting
until he got the other SUV started and turned
around,
Mallory wondered what he had started to say. Brent wasn’t what . . . mentally
stable? Anxious to question the guy herself, she was dying to hear why he
ducked around the corner when he saw her yesterday. Mike could try all day long
to defend his friend’s strange actions, but Mallory knew what she saw.

Mike
drove across the now-dry wash and headed toward the tiny town. She stayed close
enough to see him, but not so close to run into the back of his car if he had
to suddenly brake. Goldfield rushed up out of nowhere. Why had it seemed so
much further going away from it? Shrugging a little, Mallory parked beside the
other Durango, angled in front of the same café as the day before and stepped
out.

Mike
waited at the door for her and opened it. She stepped inside and waited a minute
until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Faye stood in almost the identical
spot as the day before, staring at the same TV. Bob Barker and his Beauties
filled the screen. Faye turned around.

 
“
Mornin
’,
folks.
So, I see you survived the flood.” She picked up the coffee pot.
Bet you’re
starvin
’. There’s hotcakes and sausage. Or
scrambled eggs, bacon, and Texas toast. That’s it.”

 
“How did you know we were stuck behind the
flood?” Mallory sat in the exact spot she had the day before, Mike across from
her.

Faye
poured them each coffee. “Because that nice young man walked in and told me he
got stuck in the middle of it. Figured you’d be coming back. I knew you
wouldn’t be able to cross. Did you go back to Goldfield, then?”

Mallory
nudged him with her elbow in an “I told you so” way.

 
“We couldn’t.” Mike lifted his cup and drank
deeply. “
Man, that
tastes good. We got stranded in
between two flash floods and we spent the night in the backseat of the
Durango.”

Faye
grinned. “Not a wasted night, then.”

Mallory
felt a hot blush on her neck and cheeks. His words, completely innocent,
insinuated they made love. Not the case, but too close for comfort. She shoved
her glasses up her nose. “You saw Brent? When? Where did he go?”

Faye
looked at the door. “I don’t know, but you can ask him. He’s right there.”

They
spun around and watched Brent and Dianna enter.

 
“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Dianna threw her
arms around Mike’s neck and pressed her lips to his. When he didn’t respond,
she drew back a fraction. “We were so worried.”

Mallory
watched the interchange, her stomach churning. Dianna had as much as said they
were lovers. Last night, Mike had almost made love to
her
. Did he sleep
with whoever was available?

Brent
stood beside her, his chin hanging to his skinny chest.

 
“We’re fine,” Mike assured her. “I got a
little wet, but no damage done.”

 
“Why did you get wet?” Dianna’s eyes were
hard. “Did you get out in the rain?”

 
“I waded across the creek to make sure no one
was inside the stuck SUV. I fell mid-stream on the way back.” He said it
quietly, without blame.

 
“He nearly drowned.” Mallory wasn’t going to
sit by and let him pretend it hadn’t been a near-disaster.

“I’d
say they had a wild time.” Faye poured more coffee. “Between taking a swim and
spending the night in the car, it was a rough one.”

Dianna’s
lips tightened as she straightened and looked at Mallory. “You didn’t turn
around and go back to Goldfield?”

 
“Couldn’t,” Mike said. “We were stuck right
between two floods. We hunkered down until we could cross. Besides, there’s
nothing back there. You know that.”

Mallory
pasted on her most innocent smile. “We had to share one sleeping bag.”

Dianna
glared at her,
then
turned her attention back to Mike.
“As long as you’re okay.
That’s all that matters.”

 
“We’re fine. A little tired, but nothing a nap
at home won’t cure.” He glanced at Brent. “I brought the other vehicle. Was it
you who drove it out here?”

Indecision
flitted across his face.
“Yeah.
I’m sorry I got it
stuck. I thought I could cross, but I got halfway and the current pushed me
against the tree. I climbed out the passenger side and waded to the bank on the
town side. I couldn’t do anything, so I hiked back here and called Di. She came
and picked me up.”

 
“Why didn’t you
come
look for us?” Mike’s voice held an edge.

Brent
looked shamefaced. “I couldn’t. I had to get back to the ranch.”

 
“Why did you hide when I saw you yesterday?”
Mallory pinned her best mean teacher look on him.

His
gaze skittered away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 
“Yesterday, when Mike and I came out of this
establishment, you spotted me and dodged into the alley.” Her voice rose a bit.
“Don’t deny it. I saw you.”