Highly Charged! (12 page)

Not that she was imagining some rosy future, damn it. The thought was just that—a thought.

The tall grass flattened as she jumped down. She strode from the private paradise, eager to return home and start the search for Chloe's missing diaries. After this and last night's tantalizing experiences, Nikki un
derstood better why Chloe had exhorted her to express her sensual nature.

Chloe had been a visionary—a woman before her time who'd embraced her passion rather than suppress it. Generations later, why did Nikki struggle to do the same?

She needed to learn what made Chloe so fearless. Understanding the source of her strength might empower Nikki to take an emotional risk with Brad.

In minutes she'd reached the porch, given the nearly healed blue jay food and water, and let Killer inside. She gave him a cold drink and bowl of kibble before taking the stairs two at a time. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she grabbed one of Chloe's earliest diaries from a mahogany bookcase in the bedroom.

This one was an original, but Nikki wasn't certain how many people knew it since Chloe had sewn the binding of a dry, nineteenth-century political treatise onto the journal. She hadn't given Nikki the original diaries for her dissertation, but had assured her she'd have access to them after her death. And she'd been true to her word. Nikki has hoped to gather all the books before she sat down to read them as a set. But since she hadn't found the others yet, maybe there would be a clue as to where the missing journals were located here.

The lowering sun glowed through her eyelet lace curtains in the master bedroom. No way was she reading this indoors when spring beckoned outside. She grabbed a pillow and blanket before climbing through the gable window. It was a slippery scramble across the slate roof to a flat widow's walk encircled by an intricate, black iron fence.

Inside the enclosure, she leaned against the downy pillow and began leafing through the journal. Much of it was the same as the published, edited diaries she was already so familiar with. There were no references to Eduardo, the mystery lover, in this diary since it traced events prior to 1943. However, as Nicky leafed through the pages, a yellowed scrap of paper fluttered loose from the book. At first, she thought she'd found an old letter. But as she opened it, she realized she'd found a misplaced diary entry from one of the volumes they were missing.

The entry was dated April, 1943.

A secret wedding? Nikki wondered if it had ever taken place. Not once had Chloe mentioned Eduardo or any engagement. Had she hidden such a thing the whole time Nikki had known her? She took a deep breath and shuddered. Once more her life had strangely paralleled Chloe's.

If rocks could talk…

She peered through the bars of the widow's walk, seeking signs of Brad. He would want to know about the diary entry. But instead of the rumble of a Jeep's engine, she heard only a weak meow whispered down from above. Nikki squinted through the dense white oak towering over her. Finally, she spotted it, nearly a good fifty feet from the ground. On a branch narrower than her wrist clung a tiny ginger kitten.

A wind gust buffeted the limb. The kitten held on, swaying perilously.

Nikki's hand rose to her mouth, panicked at the kitty's dangerous predicament. She had no idea if she was strong enough to climb that high. And if she did reach it, would her weight send them both tumbling?

Nikki stepped over the low wrought-iron railing. A slate shingle slid beneath her foot and dropped over the edge. She flinched as it shattered into pieces three stories below.

Another desperate meow sounded. Nikki inhaled deeply, grabbed hold of the nearest ranch, and peered
up. The kitten seemed so far away. He must be hungry to scale those heights in search of food.

“Don't worry,” she called with more confidence than she felt. “I'm coming.” As if understanding, the kitten meowed even louder.

Where was a hero when she needed one?

As if on cue, Brad's Jeep swerved into view.

B
RAD'S TIRES CRUNCHED
over fragmented stone as he screeched to a halt. This mess of gray rock hadn't been here this morning. Had Nikki been working on another project? Or had someone been here causing more damage?

He took the porch steps in one bound and slammed through the screen door.

Why had she left it unlocked when someone was out to cause trouble for her?

“Nikki!” he shouted from the living room. Book piles littered the floor, unchanged to his trained eye. The plywood-covered front window was still intact—but that didn't mean an intruder hadn't strolled right through the front door.

Brad ran his hands through his closely cropped hair, tugging the short strands in frustration. Did she not grasp the danger she faced? Maybe hearing Angelica's news would make her take things more seriously. Either way, dead bolts were going on the doors tomorrow.

He raced to the kitchen. Killer wagged his scruffy tail, but barely lifted his head from a bowl of dog food, his
ears flopping on the sides to drag on the floor. Nikki's keys, cell phone and beach bag lay on the table. She had to be home, so why couldn't she hear him?

His protective instincts shifted into overdrive. He flipped open her cell, scanning for clues—like more threatening texts.

He swore when he read this morning's message.

Those bastards. As if he would leave Nikki alone and unprotected. Brad vowed her crisis would be resolved before he left. And when he finished with the responsible parties,
they'd
wish they'd had more protection.

But why hadn't Nikki shared it with him?

Upstairs, he checked her bedroom. A yellow terrycloth robe sprawled across the bottom of her white, four-poster bed. Open drawers spilling tops and shorts suggested she'd dressed quickly.

Had she heard an intruder? Gotten an unexpected visitor?

As he turned to go downstairs, he heard more stone shatter in the still, early evening air. Instinctively, he ducked, then sprang to the window.

At the edge of an unstable slate roof perched Nikki, her fingers wrapped around an overhead branch barely within reach. In attempting to keep her balance, she must have sent the tile flying. That at least explained the mess in her driveway.

His breath caught at the precariousness of her position. Given the degree she leaned out from the rooftop, she had nowhere to go but down.

“Nikki,” he called softly. “Don't turn and don't let go. I'm coming for you.”

She nodded but otherwise remained silent. Probably
frozen in fear. Why would she do something so crazy? Had someone threatened her, forced her out here?

He slipped out the window. His sneakers slid slightly on the tiled surface. Another part of the old house that needed work. One wrong move and he might send them both flying.

He reached her in three heart-pounding steps.

“On the count of three, you'll feel my arms around you. Then, and only then, will you let go, pushing backward with your feet at the same time. Got it?” he directed.

“I can't,” she whispered.

“Yes, you can.” He'd used the same tone with edgy insurgents. Calm, authoritative. “I won't let you fall. You're a hundred percent safe.”

A stiff breeze picked up, rustling the oak canopy.

Brad swore inwardly as Nikki swayed with the branch, one of her feet momentarily losing contact with the roof.

“Actually, I'm not trying to get back to the roof.” Her dark curls bounced as she nodded upward. “I was on my way out to get the kitten.”

For the first time, Brad heard a soft meow from above. Was she risking her life for an animal? He pictured the blue jay and chipmunk. She was serious.

Time to change strategies.

He peered through the tree limbs to find the kitten's location. It wasn't too far above her head. And he could hardly argue with her obstinate compulsion to help those in danger. They had more in common than great sex.

He'd take care of this crisis himself—as soon as he'd secured Nikki.

“I see it.” He took off his shoes as he prepared to go out on a limb. “And if you let go when I grab you, I promise to go after it. Okay?”

“Thanks, Brad.”

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“One. Two. Three.” He grabbed her by the waist as she let go. Their combined backward momentum sent them sprawling against the hard roof. For a few heart-stopping moments they lay against the cold stone roof, Nikki flung over his chest.

Reminding him why he'd rushed over here like a bat out of hell. Not just to tell her what he'd found out at Angelica's. But to strip all her clothes off and bury himself deep inside her.

She squirmed to his side then sat up, clearly thinking about cat rescue more than sex right now. As another frantic
meow
floated down, he knew he needed to get moving.

He half walked, half slid to the roof edge, grabbed the nearby branch and vaulted up.

“Be careful,” she called.

He didn't respond. This operation required focus and daring. Being careful would only keep him on the ground.

 

N
O MAN SHE'D EVER KNOWN
would have done this for her. Nikki hadn't dated widely, but she hadn't been a nun either. And thinking back over the guys who'd been in her life, she was certain none of them would have rescued a cat fifty feet up on a swaying oak limb. None of
them had understood how important it was to her to take in a stray that might otherwise be forgotten. Alone.

She'd already dashed into the pantry for some pet food and milk for the poor little thing, laying the bowls at the foot of the bed for when Brad saved the animal.

“Hey, kitty,” Brad called. He stretched, full out, along a limb above her that didn't look any thicker than his arm. It dipped with his weight but seemed to be holding, for the moment. Just out of reach huddled the miniature beige-and-white-striped feline.

She saw him extend his hand, his fingertips just brushing the kitten's branch.

“Wouldn't you like to come with me? We have warm milk inside,” he coaxed.

The kitten's ears pitched forward, listening.

“Come here, kitty. Come on.”

Another breeze sent Brad and the kitten gliding through the air. Nikki covered her mouth to keep in a cry of dismay, waiting for one or both to tumble to the ground. Miraculously, they held on. When the wind stilled, the kitten inched closer, sniffing Brad's finger. He held up his hand and the kitten butted its head against it. Instantly, Brad snatched the young animal, holding it gently by the scruff of the neck.

Her relief suddenly turned to concern. It dawned on Nikki that Brad's one-handed descent would be far more dangerous than his climb. Fearlessly, he swung and dropped from limb to limb with agility even an Olympic gymnast would envy. Within moments, he reached the roof.

The ungrateful animal clawed its way free and leapt through the open window to safety in her bedroom.

Straight to the bowls she'd laid out. The ginger kitten dug in, winding its tiny tail around its body to devour the meal. She'd just adopted a new pet.

“You're a hero.” Nikki flung herself in Brad's arms, eager to give him a proper thank-you. Relief and gratitude mingled with all the other things she felt for Brad—warmth, attraction, admiration…it was starting to form one heck of a powerful package of emotions.

She rubbed the bunching back muscles beneath his snug, army-issue tank. How could a woman express herself in the face of his completely unselfish act? “Thank you.” She wanted to make sure he understood how much she appreciated what he'd done.

“You're welcome.” He breathed the words over her mouth before brushing another kiss along her lips. “I locked the door downstairs if you're ready to shower me with gratitude.”

“Mmm.” She pressed herself to him fully, loving the feel of his toned, hard body.

“Come on.” He tugged her back into the house as the twilight shadows deepened.

Nikki let herself be led, more than ready for him after allowing the anticipation to build all afternoon. She toppled him to the bed as she dropped inside the window, landing on the four poster with more eagerness than finesse.

“I had a dream about you today,” she confided, her skin tingling with hunger and memories.

“Please say this dream ended with us naked,” he murmured, already nibbling her sensitive earlobe. Electricity sizzled along her neck.

“At the start, I was in a secret meadow, thinking about
us,” she began, trying to shrug out of her tank top to provide him greater access.

“You're starting at the beginning of the dream? You have a habit of making me wait.” Brad's tongue traveled a serpentine path to her jaw and throat.

She almost tore her own shirt off. “I pulled you on top of me.”

“Like this?” Brad stretched out over her in a single, fluid motion.

She rolled her hips against his and arched her spine. He'd hardly arrived and she was already so keyed up she couldn't think.

His hands tangled in her hair. His teeth found the neckline of her tank top and yanked down enough to expose the swell of her breast.

Suddenly the sun slipped away, leaving them in near darkness.

Not that Nikki needed to see Brad's raw masculine appeal to enjoy it. The feel of his shifting shoulder muscles made her shiver with pleasure. His lean, six-pack stomach pressed firmly against hers. Solidly muscular thighs settled with a satisfying heaviness between her thighs.

Erotic dreams and the touch of flower petals had nothing on this. Right now, she wanted to feel the strength and power of him, to revel in the all the hard planes of his body.

He lifted his mouth from her breast long enough to peel her shirt off. She helped him by opening the front clasp of her bra, feeling the cool night air rush against her exposed breasts from the open window. Her fingers tangled in Brad's hair as she guided him toward them,
feeling deep satisfaction as he suckled each one long and hard.

She licked a path along his shoulder, savoring the taste of him. The clean scent of soap mingled with the musky hint of male. She nipped him with her teeth and then shivered as he returned the favor on the underside of her breast. Slick heat built between her thighs. Her hips gyrated against the exhilarating stiffness of his lengthy manhood, eliciting a ragged sigh from Brad.

“You feel good,” Brad whispered against her chest. He mapped the deep valley between her breasts with his hands before traveling lower to the edge of her jean shorts. He unsnapped and pulled them to her ankles in one hard tug.

Vaguely, she thought she ought to halt him since he deserved all the sensual attention tonight. But then his teeth locked on the lace of her panties and she couldn't have moved if she'd tried. His breath caressed her hip bone. He pulled the lace down, down. She wriggled to help him inch the fabric off, needing to be naked for him.

More than ready for what came next.

He shouldered his way between her thighs, making a place for himself there. She twisted helplessly against the pillow, a willing prisoner of his hands on her hips and his…mouth.

His kiss came hard and unrelenting, a deep stroke of his tongue into the heart of her. She came instantly, shattering so fast he had to hold her to keep her together. Or at least she felt like he did. Her whole body convulsed and swayed, bucking against him as he worked every last spasm from her.

She was pretty sure she didn't remember her own name by the time he was done. The aftershocks went on and on, shivering up her nerve endings in a slow, sensuous dance each time.

By the time he lifted himself off her and ditched his shorts, she was drowning in endorphins and driven by the need to give him every bit as much pleasure as he'd given her.

Reaching across the bed, she retrieved a condom from her nightstand drawer and opened the packet with shaky hands still trembling from the overdose of feel-good action in her neurons.

Straddling him, she rolled the sheath slowly down his straining erection. Then, positioning him right where she wanted him, she guided him inside—only slightly. She suspended herself for a moment, letting anticipation build.

She leaned over and licked a flat nipple. His pectoral muscles tightened beneath her mouth. And as much as she wanted to slide down the length of him to take him deep inside her, she knew it was important to savor rather than rush. Gently, she swayed her hips, letting the heat crank up all over again.

His gasps mingled with her sighs. She felt a trail of sweat on Brad's chest and she knew the effort to hold back cost him, as well.

On instinct, she lowered herself swiftly, burying him within her. He guided her upward then pulled her down, the friction impossibly good.

She undulated her hips, prolonging their enjoyment. But then Brad's hand cupped a breast while the other stroked her mound and she knew she didn't have much
time left. Exquisite pleasure sizzled through her. She bucked wildly against him with abandon. His powerful hips thrust upward to meet her, driving him impossibly deeper each time.

She didn't know how long they were locked together that way, but soon, an uncontrollable, shuddering contraction racked her. In the next instant, Brad stiffened and found his release, his shout of satisfaction driving her higher.

When she'd wrung every ounce of pleasure she could from them both, Nikki collapsed against him, nearly unconscious. It was several minutes before she realized he spoke.

A deep sigh of satisfaction escaped her as she nestled against the strong, muscular planes of his chest. Exhaustion overtook her. She struggled to keep her eyes open. There was something she needed to say.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His sexy baritone filled her ear.

“You are incredible.” Brad's arms tightened around her.

She knew there were things they both needed to say. Important things. But right now, the moment was too perfect to do anything besides hold each other. And Brad seemed to agree; he pulled a corner of the quilt over her shoulder and held her while she drifted toward sleep. It was the most beautiful evening she could remember.