Highly Charged! (14 page)

The lace cups fell away from her breasts and his mouth went dry. He'd never get tired of seeing her.

“Just keep in mind that turnabout is fair play.” She undid the ties on her pajama pants for him, the sound of silk sliding through her fingers like a sigh.

“I'm very aware.” He allowed himself one kiss just below her navel, his tongue darting across her skin for a taste while he shoved the filmy fabric down her legs. He straightened to find her panties—

Absent?

He swallowed his tongue. Her body was utterly perfect in the moonlight, her breasts puckering for his kiss. Her legs parted just enough to give him room there.

“You went commando,” he finally managed, the word pushed from a dry throat as he fought the urge to cover her.

“I dressed in a hurry,” she reminded him, smoothing her palm down her hip and halting just above the cradle of her thighs.

He watched, mesmerized, as her fingers played over her skin. Then, recalling her threat about turning the tables, he put the daisy stem in her hand.

“Why don't you show me where you want me first?” He'd have to work up to teasing her with the flower when he wasn't plagued with this fierceness to have her. As it was, his pulse slammed through his veins harder than if he was facing down a booby-trapped bomb.

She surprised him by skimming the petals higher. Higher. Finally landing on her lips to circle her mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I want that, too.” Leaning over her, he claimed her mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss. He stroked her tongue with long, sinuous licks, savoring her like the last of an ice cream cone.

She followed his movements with her own, her fingers clamping around his neck to keep him close. He inhaled her. Devoured her. And she writhed under him impatiently, arching her back to graze her breasts against him.

With superhuman effort, he forced himself back, inserting some space between them on the bed.

“Where else, Nikki?” He gazed down into her dark, slumberous eyes glittering in the moon glow. “Where else should I touch you?”

The daisy had grown a little bedraggled, crushed between them during the kiss. But she splayed the petals against her neck and rubbed them along her throat, lingering at the soft depression at the base.

He leaned forward, eager to follow through. Dying for another taste of her. But she placed her palm on his chest and held him back with gentle force. Confused, he saw her continue the flower's journey. Lower. Lower.

His head swam.

He had a vague impression of her circling back up to the rosy pink crests of her breasts, but by then, he was already on her. He slid his thigh between hers, bracketing her hips with his hands to keep her steady. He kissed her neck, taking a straight line to the deep cleavage between her breasts. She smelled like flowers and meadows, soap and sex. He'd only known her a short time, but he'd recognize the scent of her anywhere.

He couldn't kiss her enough and shed his clothes, too, but he made a hell of an effort at both. She helped him, her hands shoving away his shirt and hauling down his shorts whenever his attention lingered too long on her. He throbbed to be inside her, his erection straining to painful lengths. She helped him there, too, pulling a whole strand of condoms off the nightstand until she managed to tear off one and roll it over him.

“I can't wait,” she pleaded in his ear, her words a strange manifestation of what he'd just been thinking himself.

Palming her thigh, he shifted her where he wanted her, his thumb grazing the damp, pulsing heart of her sex. She rolled her hips toward him in blatant invitation and he plunged deep. Hard.

Their shout of satisfaction mingled into one sound and he stayed there, buried inside her, for a long, hot moment. He cupped her face in his hand, needing to connect with her in every way possible. The commune
that went on there was wordless but profound. He could have lost himself in her dark gaze. Breaking the moment with a blink, he slowly withdrew from her, only to return harder. Deeper.

They danced together that way for endless moments, as if time stopped to give them the gift of the night. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled her on top of him, wanting to see her, poised above him with her dark hair tousled in a wild, silken tangle, her lips full and red from his kisses, a slight sheen on her skin.

She was more than beautiful. She was The One.

The realization startled him almost as much as her sudden arch against him, her body racking in spasms so hard he could feel them squeeze his release from him in turn. His breath left his body in a whoosh and he wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. But the grand finale she'd wrung from him was so amazing he couldn't find it in himself to care.

For long minutes they lay beside each other in the half light, breathing in the cool spring air blowing in the open window. He wasn't sure what to say next. The moment seemed so fragile and so ripe for shared declarations neither of them were ready to make yet.

If anything, the connection he'd felt to her scared the hell out of him when he didn't have his head screwed on straight and didn't know what the future held for him—professionally or personally. Too late, he understood Doc Leonard had been right and that Brad should have been focusing on getting to know her better—and not just in the physical sense.

Funny that he'd initiated sex because he hadn't been ready to share anything more about himself when she'd
wanted to talk. Yet what they'd just shared had somehow tied them together more deeply than he could even begin to comprehend.

And as scared as he was of screwing up with her and sending her running, he realized he couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. Not with a woman who'd given herself to him the way Nikki just had.

Come hell or high water, he'd at least give her what she'd asked for.

“I couldn't defuse a bomb fast enough.” He hated trotting out his baggage for a woman he really didn't want to send running. “That's what happened to my leg.”

The trees outside the window creaked and moaned in the gathering wind, the overgrown branches scraping the window screen like fingernails on chalkboard. Or maybe it was just because the truth raked him raw that the sound went right through him like that.

“Is that why you had a nightmare on the futon?” She lay very still beside him, staring up at the ceiling as the cool breeze blew through the room. “Because of that bomb?”

“Pretty much. The explosive in the dream is a little different. The circumstances more muted. But I know what it means. It started coming to me right after that accident.”

“You've had it more than once?” She sounded concerned, and she hadn't even heard about the Iraqi farmer or his kid yet.

His chest hurt and he had to tell himself not to be such a candy ass. His leg would heal. He had to keep in perspective how lucky he'd been.

“I've had it a lot,” he admitted, able to tell her the
truth since she wasn't the one who had to sign off on the papers that would clear him to go back to work. “But last night, I didn't have it when I was with you. I've been seeing a shrink—that is, a psychiatrist—and he seems to want to know I've gotten over those dreams before I return to Iraq.”

If she thought seeing the doc made him a head case, she hid it well. She turned toward him, settling her head on his biceps in a way that felt…nice.

“You must have been very fortunate not to have been hurt worse. As the guy defusing the explosive, you're obviously the closest person to it, right?”

He closed his eyes; seeing that day vividly behind his eyelids, he wrenched them back open again.

“Yes. But we have protective gear. I'd suited up to check out the bomb. It wouldn't have been a big deal except—” His throat caught on a dry note. “There were civilians nearby.”

“Oh, God.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “There were other casualties?”

“No deaths.” He tried to remind himself of that, but sometimes the farmer's fate had felt worse than a death if he hadn't received good medical treatment. Or if he couldn't figure out how to adapt with only one arm. But since meeting James, he had at least a little ray of optimism for how some people made that work. “But there was a kid nearby, a boy I'd befriended other times when I was off the base. I tried to tell him to go, but with the language barrier and everything splitting my attention, his father had to come out to the field to haul him away. The kid was fine, but his father lost his arm.”

She covered her eyes as if she couldn't bear the vision
that created for her. And yeah, he totally understood how that felt. He was sweating even though he wasn't hot, the ceiling fan clicking overhead not doing him a damn bit of good. If he wasn't careful, the shakes would kick in soon.

“How awful for all of you.” Her hand slid away and her eyes glistened with unshed tears when she met his gaze. “For you. For the boy. For the dad.” She shook her head in mute sympathy. “But thank God that boy was okay and the father saved him in time.”

It hadn't occurred to him to thank God for any part of that hellish day. His muscles eased a fraction even though he still felt nauseous.

“The kid had to see the whole thing.” He couldn't get past that part. That and the fact that the boy had been there because of Brad in the first place. “He was in that field to see me. Because we were pals after I'd seen him around town a few times.”

“You're so good with kids.” She brushed her fingers along his chest and then laid her hand there, over his heart. “And I'm sure you can imagine exactly how that farmer felt seeing his boy in danger. He was ready to sacrifice his life for his son, as any good parent would be. But he'll walk away from that injury and have more days to be with his boy. If you ask him, I'll bet he's thankful at how it turned out.”

Brad wasn't so sure he agreed. He hadn't even brought up the fact that the guy might not have had good medical care afterward. He just didn't know. But Nikki had shown him a different perspective on the day. If a bomb threatened Nate, hell yes, Brad would gladly throw himself between the kid and danger. It felt different to be
the hero though, than the guy who'd failed to defuse the bomb in time.

He closed his eyes, weary of the dream and the past that he could never set right. A moment he'd never be able to change.

“I hear what you're saying,” he told her finally, glad to at least have shared it with her. He hadn't told anybody else but the shrink and that had only been because he'd had no choice. “But I'm not quite there yet as far as dealing with it goes.”

She reached over him to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“You're an amazing man. And you do a job that would scare most people out of their shoes. Thank you.” She eased back down to tuck into the cradle of his arm, her dark hair blanketing him in silky curls. “I hope tomorrow you'll tell me all about the explosives you disarmed successfully. I'll bet there are lots more of those.”

There were. He just hadn't thought about those in quite a while.

As Nikki's breathing turned into a slow, even rhythm, his chest slowly eased. She hadn't been horror stricken or run screaming when he told her. She even behaved as if he still had something to offer.

Maybe he really could kick the nightmares and get on top of the memories before he returned. Trouble was, between the incredible sex and the warmth in his chest that he felt after talking to her just now, he had a whole new fear churning around in his gut.

He was falling for the last woman on the planet who would want to be with a military man for more than a heated affair. And wasn't that just a bomb of another kind altogether?

N
IKKI AWOKE WITH A START,
heart beating fast.

Ears straining in the darkness just before dawn, she wondered what had disturbed her. Another gunshot? Brad saying something in his sleep? But no, the world was quiet all around her. Her gorgeous hunk of a military man slept soundly by her side, a sight that touched her heart all the more knowing that he had trouble sleeping peacefully because of the awful dreams.

Not wanting to wake him, she tucked the quilt higher on his shoulder and remained still. His adopted dog—soon to be her adopted dog, no doubt—snoozed in a ball between their feet at the end of the bed. The ginger kitten was tucked up against Killer's belly, chin on her paws.

Lying back on her pillow, Nikki stared up at the exposed-beam ceiling and struggled to recall what had brought her awake so suddenly. A dream, she recalled.

She'd been dreaming about the wildflower meadow…

That's it!

She gasped, excitement surging through her veins at
the realization that had just blasted through her brainwaves.

He rolled over toward her automatically, apparently having heard her sharp intake of breath. His arm wrapped around her waist to draw her closer. Her skin tingled in response before she remembered she couldn't indulge herself right now.

“I'm sorry to disturb you.” She wriggled back a little before she got caught up in the feel of him. “Go back to sleep.”

“What is it?” He sat up, instantly alert, and she cursed herself for bothering him. “I'm awake.”

When it become obvious he wasn't falling back to sleep, she figured there was no harm in sharing the news.

“I just realized I know where the missing diaries are.”

“You found them in the middle of the night?” He peered around as if expecting to see the volumes.

Killer yawned and stretched before sighing and dropping his head back down to the bed, uninterested.

“No, but I was having a dream and realized where they must be.”

“Well?” Brad lifted a dark eyebrow, appearing skeptical.

“Where would you hide your most secret things?” She could see it perfectly now, understanding what Chloe had done.

“Safe-deposit box?”

“Secret things go in a secret place. Like Chloe's secret garden meadow.”

“The place you went today?”

“Yes!” She nodded, thinking they'd be able to see well enough if they left now. The sun was going to be over the horizon any moment. “Chloe never mentions it in the original diaries, yet she specifically showed it to me once. And she always referred to it as her secret place. Where else would you hide a secret but a secret place?”

“You knew her better than me.” Brad shrugged, still appearing unconvinced. “If you think she'd do something like that, we can go take a look.”

She practically bolted out of bed. The cat and dog both jerked upright. “The only trouble is, I'm pretty sure they're hidden under the biggest rock you can imagine.”

 

T
HE GOOD NEWS WAS, HE KNEW
exactly where to rent a metal detector.

When Brad had returned the tractor to the local equipment-rental place, he happened to notice they had a few metal detectors available. And after seeing the behemoth that Nikki wanted him to move, he figured that was their best bet. Nothing short of an earthquake would dislodge that sucker, so he felt pretty sure Chloe Lissander hadn't managed the job to hide the journals under it in the first place.

“So you think the journals are in a box that will set off the metal detector,” Nikki mused as she walked another slow circle around the huge rock in the middle of the wildflower meadow. Her long, dark curls swayed in the breeze. She wore a bright pink sweatsuit with the name of her university stitched on the sleeve of the hoodie—Old Dominion.

“Absolutely. She wouldn't bury it without protection from the elements. She probably just tucked it near here, but I hate to dig up the whole perimeter of the rock when we can find it faster with the metal detector. That way, if it's not by the big-ass boulder, we can expand the search easily.”

She nodded, but she was biting her lip in thought.

He could tell she was disappointed he hadn't offered to start shoveling now, but he didn't want to undertake backbreaking labor without a plan.

“What makes you think this place is such a secret anymore? If Chloe grew up in that house, her whole family must know about the meadow and how she liked it out here.” He could see why it was a special spot. Different from the surrounding woods, the sudden pop of color up here was unexpected.

And the thought of Nikki lying half-naked on that rock just yesterday, stretched out like some kind of pagan sacrifice and dreaming about him…

He'd be lucky to leave the meadow without begging for a reenactment so he could see that for himself.

“Chloe's family didn't own this part of the property when she was younger. She bought it about ten years ago when the former owner died.” She paused her circling by a thatch of some purplish flowers and knelt down to examine the ground there. “When she was growing up here, she said the boys rode their bikes into town to hang out with their friends. She was the one who roamed the countryside on her own.”

He supposed she could have bought up the land to ensure her secrets were safe there. And who knew how
long ago she actually “lost” the diaries? She could have hidden them there at any point over the years.

“See anything?” He moved closer, wondering what caught her eye.

“Chloe loved Virginia bluebells.” Pointing to the spiky blooms, she grinned. “I'm betting this is the spot.”

They walked back through the woods together, crossing a dead log over a rushing creek and climbing down a tall hill. In the few years he'd owned the house right next door to Nikki's, he'd never known any of this existed. His first glimpse of her place from this angle was a revelation, as well. The old farmhouse with its oddly fanciful widow's walk truly was a neat property.

“The house is going to be really cool one day,” he told her, knowing Nikki would make sure it came together just the way it should. She'd worked so hard already. “Is it the first place you've owned?”

She nodded. “My first real home.”

No wonder it meant the world to her; she'd never had a place to call home in the tumultuous race from house to house that had constituted her childhood. Understanding that made him all the more determined to get as much done as he could before he left in nine days. By the time he came back, they'd probably be ready to put on some finishing touches if the contractors she hired didn't—

Shit.

Had he really thought about a future with her?

He'd tried not to think about his realization of the night before, hoping maybe he'd been wrong about what he felt for her. Didn't he know better than to start something with a woman so intent on putting down roots and
staying in one place? Things his job just didn't make possible?

No doubt about it, he should be putting on the brakes before someone got hurt. Tough to do when he had nothing else to do for the next nine days but climb the walls and return to his nightmares. Not to mention, he wanted to keep her safe from whoever was trying to oust her.

Speaking of which.

“Uh-oh,” Nikki muttered at the same moment he saw a sporty Mercedes convertible in the driveway. Bright red.

He'd recognize the car of a wealthy cheerleader mom from a mile away.

“We can see about a restraining order,” he suggested, though Nikki was already shaking her head and picking up her pace to greet the visitors.

“I'm not going to cut them all off because one or two of them are making trouble.” Still, she threaded her arm through his and he liked that she reached his way for back-up.

Yeah, he was liking that a whole lot. The protective charge that gave him made him want to give the sporty Mercedes a good he-man shove right out of the driveway and the Ralstons out of Nikki's life.

“Trouble is, we don't know who to trust.” He could see Angelica now. And she'd brought her precocious teen with her. Their bright red track jackets contrasted with the house's faded red screen door.

“Hi there,” Nikki called, waving at them with her free arm.

Brad tucked the other arm even tighter to his side,
wondering what Nikki would think if he installed eightfoot fencing and a security gate.

“Hello.” Angelica shoved her daughter forward as Brad and Nikki closed the distance between them. “Emily has something to say to you.”

The teenage flirt who Brad had met at the door yesterday now had puffy red eyes and a far more contrite demeanor. She looked as if she'd been up all night and—considering the late-night trouble she'd caused—she probably had.

“I'm sorry!” she blurted, staring at the ground while Angelica stepped back a few feet to give her space. “My boyfriend was the one with the idea to fire the shot because he said he heard Granddaddy saying we should chase you back to Tennessee or wherever it is you come from.” Emily glanced up, shrugging helplessly as if she couldn't be responsible for what her grandfather said.

Brad had a feeling where this was leading, directly to a request for Nikki not to press charges, and it was all he could do not to order both of them off the property. But that wasn't his call and it wasn't his land. And, oh, man, this possessive thing was going to be tough to fight. He had Nikki clamped to his side as if the cheerleader might drag her off any second. He carefully loosened his grip to a more appropriate reassuring squeeze.

“So you came out here in the middle of the night to scare me because it was your boyfriend's idea?” Nikki did not sound like a woman swayed by teenage tears and he had a vision of her as a kick-butt mom some day. He'd bet she'd seen plenty of adolescent-drama teaching college courses.

“I—we—that is, I'd been drinking a little.” She
lowered her voice over this part and peered back at her mother as if scared to confess it.

And to be fair, Angelica looked like she might take the girl's head off, but she simply kept her arms tightly crossed, her Botox no match for her frown. Brad could almost feel sorry for her.

Emily turned her attention back to Nikki. “But I'm breaking up with him today. He's a bad influence and I'm really sorry. I guess he thought that prank we pulled would impress my granddad enough to give him a job on his crew, but—” she rolled her eyes in a move perfected by girls of that demographic everywhere “—guess that's not gonna happen now, is it?”

Nikki pursed her lips.

Emily cleared her throat. “Anyway, I'm sorry for what I did and I came to offer my help in fixing up the house if you want. I can rake or mow or—” she peered around the property “—something. I understand if you want to press charges, and either way the offer stands because Ralstons fix their mistakes.”

After this last bit, and Brad admitted it was a good ploy, the girl dared a hopeful glance back at her mother, who continued to glare at her.

Nikki gave a nod.

“I appreciate the offer and I will take it into consideration after I speak to the police this afternoon. Thank you for coming.”

Angelica returned the nod, and then marched her daughter back to the sports car, depositing her in the front seat before the two of them roared away.

“How much you want to bet there are no slots on the
cheer team for kids with police charges pending?” Brad observed.

“For a Ralston? In this town? There'll be a slot even if she's serving hard time. That offer to work off the bad behavior is all Angelica's doing. I know you don't think much of her, but I'm telling you, she's not half-bad.”

“So when are we going to talk to the granddad who put the target on your back?”

Nikki spun in his arm, smiling. “We don't have to, because we're going to find the diaries today and have all our answers straight from Chloe herself.”

She pressed against him in a way that made him think he could have her all to himself in that bed upstairs with just a little effort. And he wanted that. Badly.

But she was looking forward to digging up around the rock and he needed to be careful of falling any deeper into dangerous terrain with her. He settled for pulling his keys out of his pocket instead.

“How about we go rent a metal detector?”

“Deal.” She headed toward the Jeep. “But if we find those diaries under the purple flowers, just like I said? I'm going to seduce you on that rock and use one of those blooms to torment you just like you did to me last night.”

His mouth watered on cue.

As they tore out of the driveway and up the street toward the heart of the town, Brad knew he should say something to Nikki about the things he was feeling for her—to give her a chance to cool things off if she wanted. Who'd have thought a brief no-strings affair could have tied his heart in knots within days? But when a woman went Terminator on your nightmares and warmed your
bed in the most amazing way possible, any guy would be in trouble.

His efforts to help Nikki find her inner vixen had worked a little too well. She seemed to be thriving on the sensual combustion while Brad had taken a direct hit.

Doc Leonard had tried to tell him not to focus so much on the physical, but he'd figured being with Nikki was the best thing that had happened to him in a hell of a long time, so what could go wrong?

Yeah, that's why Leonard had the psych degree and Brad was the one sitting for the head exam.

 

N
IKKI THOUGHT SHE NOTICED
a distance in Brad that afternoon as they worked with the metal detector around the rock in the garden meadow. She wasn't quite sure when it had taken root, but it sat between them like a palpable thing despite the gorgeous day and an activity that was a heck of a lot easier than tearing down the chicken coop or reshingling the porch roof, or any of the other hundreds of tasks she needed to tackle at the house.