Pippa's Rescue (8 page)

She chuckled and unzipped the white, almost iridescent dress hugging her form. No other clothing clad her ripped body beneath the borrowed dress. The skirt caught on her boots as she slid the shiny fabric over her hips. “What does sap mean?”

Despite her beauty his throat didn’t dry out as he’d expect. “Gullible. Someone who is easily fooled. Don’t tear the dress.”

Skogul huffed. “When did you become such a girl?” She did, however, place the dress on a hanger and slide the gown into the plastic bag.

He sighed, wondering how much longer this trickery would last. Maybe the darkness had taken on a new form, by the name of Skogul. “And how is it you’d know what kind of person I am?”

She frowned, as if she’d said too much. It would be interesting to find out how easily lies came from her perfect pouty lips. “You know me, Basil. I’m Skogul, a quick screw from your past.”

Had she read his mind? She must have divined his thoughts because, vague past or not, he’d remember a hot broad of this caliber. He pulled the slide on the gun, felt the memory bump on the pistol. She glided around the bed and skimmed over his legs, while taking the revolver from his hand. “We met before, when you and Harrison were eating at the little Mexican restaurant near his parents’ house. Remember?”

Because she’d mentioned Harry, he didn’t protest when she took the weapon and placed it on the table. She acted quite comfortable around a pistol. If she knew Harry, and she’d yet to prove that, then she might know the location of his...Basil swallowed the horrible thought. “No, I don’t remember. Where exactly? What were we eating?”

She should know. Basil always ate the same Mexican food; he never deviated.

“Harrison’s home town, two hours north of here. He had a burrito and you, my lover, nachos. But you enjoyed the margaritas the most. Umm, salty and sweet. Citrus with a buzz.” She sat fully on his lap, her bare breasts in his face.

Any given day he’d enjoy a free lap dance, but not today. Not after making love to Pippa. This felt dirty and wrong. He placed his hands under Skogul’s arms, trying not to touch boob. “I’m not your lover, never have been.”

A loud knock and the squeal of the door opening brought him upright. Skogul fell flat onto the hardwood floor.

“Basil?” Pippa, dressed in a light pink barely-there tank and shorts that showed her butt cheeks underneath, stood sideways in the doorway, half-in and half-out. The atrium chandelier, cranked up to full power, created shadows in the background.

“Something wrong?” He didn’t mean to growl, but such was his reaction. A naked woman trying to ride him followed by the one he desired appearing at his door, nearly naked, made him painfully porn-star stiff.

“I thought I heard talking and something else.” Her chest heaved, as if she’d run across the room. “Someone’s here. An intruder.”

You’ve got that right
. Basil glanced at Skogul, slowly rising, her back to Pippa. He wasn’t sure if he should cover his phantom with the blanket at the end of the bed or pretend she wasn’t there. He glanced at Pippa. She hadn’t seen the moving target? Only fright remained in her eyes and that fear brought out the knight-errant in him.

“Don’t worry, lover, I’ve got your back,” Skogul said. Covers sliding against sheets sounded as loud as a freight train.

“Pippa.” He stomped toward her, just in case the noise behind him needed to be masked. “I’m sure it was nothing. Come with me and”—he wrapped his arm around her waist urging her into the living room—“we’ll search under the beds and in the closets together.”

“I’m not a child,” Pippa said, her tone filled with offense.

“No, darlin’, you certainly are all woman.” Basil moved closer to her, trying to speed her exit, while her soft white skin caused his gut to clench in lust agony.

“I heard talking. Were you on the phone?” Pippa glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t you need your gun?”

“No.” He had to move fast, before she saw the dress bag. “You forget I’m with Special Ops. I can take down the strongest—even evil forces lurking in the bedroom wardrobe.”

Skogul’s laugher rang clear, even as he kicked the door shut.

****

Pippa tried to think of a way to postpone Basil from returning to his room. Their search through the house came out empty. Had she dressed in outdoor clothing, she would have suggested a little promenade. They’d ended their tour in her bedroom. How hard could it be to circle the queen-sized bed, with the creamy yellow sheets pulled down, and say
Join me
? “It’s rather late. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

Chicken!
she scolded herself. How quickly courage had abandoned her.

Basil hovered near the door. Arms crossed pulled the thin, tight tee, outlining the outrageous muscles of his chest. Part of the hem stuck in the waist band. He wasn’t eyeing the unmade bed either. “Yes, maybe the noise you heard was just electrical wires hitting the side of the house.”

She twisted the edge of her tank. Coyness and assertiveness she’d forsaken to practice in her younger days. Instead she learned the basics of ranching and, after her father passed and David went overseas, the details of managing a farm. Too bad. She could use some womanly wiles right about now. “Yes. It could have been.”

He stalked her with slow, deliberate steps, backing her into the wall beside the door frame. He pried her fingers from her now frayed top. “Why are you nervous? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Guilt,” she whispered.

“Excuse me?”

She stared at the dark wood floor wishing the floorboards would disappear, and she’d be sucked into the hole. “I feel guilty about this afternoon. I’ve never done anything like that and I’m not as loose as I’m sure I appeared.”

He laughed. Big hearty bellows.

What the hell? She jerked and tried to step away from his deliciously fragrant body, but was pinned against the wall. If she slid a few steps to the side she could shove him and his spicy cologne through the doorway and lock the damn thing, but the burning in her soul urged her otherwise. She enjoyed his muscled weight pressing alongside hers.

As skilled as a ballet dancer, he reached around her and gently shut the door. His muscular back flattened to the wood frame. “I’m sorry. My laughter was rude. I’m the one who should apologize. Couldn’t sleep thinking about my lack of finesse.”

He took her hands into his. Sincerity was evident in his eyes, but Special Ops were taught to deceive the enemy. Should she trust him? “Lack of finesse?”

His fingers caressed her palms. “Yes. You’d think I was a youngster by rushing into love…making. I wanted to take my time, explore and excite you, but you’re so beautiful, bright, and bold. I’d built the moment so much before we got there—climax came immediately.”

Good God, how embarrassing. She’d never had this honest of a conversation regarding sex, and it had to be with him. A man she’d started to adore. She glanced at the bed. His moves were excellent the first time they came together. Could she handle Basil with finesse? “Want to try again?”

He cradled her head in his hands, drawing her mouth to his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He possessed exceptional kissing skills. Slow exploration, simmer, then hot rapid-fire tongue and nipping, addictive and sexy.

“I know a guy’s always supposed to be prepared but I don’t have any condoms.” His sheepish grin melted her core. “You wouldn’t happen to have some, do you?” His hard shovel-calloused hand slid under her top, creating a new tingle as he caressed her breast.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t usually have men stay overnight.”

“Umm.” His lips moved to the sensitive area of her neck, near her ear. The tingles became an outright riot of desire.

She exhaled and placed her hands on his shoulders. “As much as I want you, I’m not much of a risk taker.”

He kissed her, a sweet simple peck, then looked toward the door. Was he anxious to get back to his room? Facing her again, he stroked the side of her face. “I’ll get some condoms tomorrow. I’ll leave, so you can rest.”

“Would you stay with me?”

Chapter 9

Basil squinted at the sunlight pouring into Pippa’s bedroom. She’d opened the curtains last night when she sought her intruder, and he hadn’t bothered to close them. Her cell phone bleeped. As she reached for the device, he stroked her backside. She cat-backed and murmured a greeting into the rectangle.

Pain pulsating through his groin and cock made him inhale. He’d held her through the night and as much as he wanted to make love to her, he remained a gentleman and didn’t push her into anything she’d regret. However, today was a new day and Pippa’s warm, shapely body next to his made him hurt. Perhaps together they could find a solution to ease the agony.

“What?” Pippa sat upright and dragged the covers off. “Who was there yesterday?” She ran to her dresser, grabbed the trousers and a shirt which had been carefully folded on top, and laid the mobile on the wood surface while continuing to talk into the phone. “The new guy, the one Doc’s interviewing?”

From Basil’s distance, Mattie’s voice held undistinguishable angst or excitement rippling with each word she spoke. Something was up. He threw off the covers.

Pippa slipped into her pants and top and his erection throbbed with disappointment. Within seconds she held the phone to her ear. “I’ll be right there.”

Her fingers ran over the face of the cell, then she shoved it into her back pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Basil dragged on the jeans from last night and fastened them. For a moment he wished he’d brought his shoes and a shirt. Now he’d have to go back into David’s room and possibly see Skogul, the interloper from hell.

“Something happened to the new horse, Titan. Unbelievable.” She scraped her midnight hair into a knot and folded it over to secure it with lose strands. “I need to go.”

“Sure, no worries. I’ll get dressed and join you.”

She zipped out the door without a response. What had happened? From the sounds of chatter and the faint whistles coming from outside, something had more than Mattie riled.

Basil sighed in relief when he didn’t see the loose Amazon cannon in his temporary bedroom. He sat on the edge of the perfectly made bed. Rifling through his bag, he pulled out socks. Tugging on the fresh pair, he shoved his feet into the boots. A used T-shirt lay crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed, so he gave it a whiff, swiped deodorant under his pits, and slipped the jersey on as he walked out the door.

A small crowd had gathered around stable one. The roar of a massive motor caught his attention. He shielded his eyes against the morning sun. The Kingdom Animal Services SUV marked the vet’s presence. Pippa would be in tears if one of her precious horses had gotten injured.

Oddly the first thing he smelled when he entered the stables wasn’t horse dung. The place was ripe with joy. Sweet elation resembled a mix of hay and oats and excitement. Goodwill poured from the bystanders surrounding the almost-white horse standing in the center of the barn. Pippa’s gentle hands rubbed the sides of the beast’s neck. He blew frequent breaths, more than likely nervous of the crowd gathered around him. Titan was alive. Basil sent a small prayer of thanks.

He broke through the crowd. Situated on the rail between stalls was Skogul, looking a bit put out and, if he guessed correctly a touch of fear shone in her eyes. She met his glance and nodded in acknowledgment. No sarcastic words, no giggles of enjoyment. Something was fucked up. He moved his gaze to Pippa. Her grin spanned her beautiful face.

“What’s going on?” Basil nodded to the horse.

“Oh, Basil, he’s been healed. Look.” She pointed to the missing gash on his hindquarters. “All of his wounds have mended.”

“How is that possible?” Basil asked. Murmurs of agreement came from behind him.

“That isn’t possible,” Doc said as he came around to the side of the horse.

Basil hadn’t seen him since the horse healer had drugged him. He’d have a word with the quack when he got him alone.

“Excuse me,” a deep male voice said.

Basil moved to the side, until he heard a sharp inhale from Skogul. He glanced at her. She stared at the man with a baritone voice, whose sole attention was focused on the horse. “I’m sorry, let me move. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Basil Vanguard.”

“Aidan Hall. Nice to meet you.” Aidan shook Basil’s extended hand.

Aidan stood aside and waited for Pippa to walk away from the horse. Titan shifted to the side, closer to his stall. Pippa’s hand went to Titan and stroked his nose, whispering soothing words. A couple of snorts and the horse calmed. The vet bent to evaluate the recently injured and miraculously healed stallion’s hide. Basil kept his glance on Skogul. She smiled, and not the can’t-wait-to-see-what-happens-next grin, but a sappy love-look. Harry’d had a similar dazed look when he talked about his angel. Harry’s angel, according to the information he’d found on Harrison’s laptop, was Kiara.

“What kind of super-antibiotic did you give Titan?” Pippa asked Aidan as he ran his hands across the horse’s flank.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I make my own salve from herbs, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” Aidan responded.

“Maybe it’s the salve then,” the old doc stated. He stood hip to hip with Mattie. “Did you add anything new?”

“No.” Aidan scratched the back of his head. “Who else has administered care to Titan?”

“Just me.” Though Pippa and Skogul spoke at the same time how many, if any, heard Skogul?

But Aidan looked directly at Skogul. Could he see her? Hear her? Basil stomach quivered with anticipation, hoping he wasn’t the only one. How could he prove it? He stared at Skogul. Her bright-red cheeks glittered in the dim overhead light.

Basil glanced at Pippa. “Maybe we should take him outside to see the healed wounds in natural light?”

“No, don’t take him into the light!” Skogul’s shout went ignored.

“Good idea,” Pippa said. She took hold of the leather strap next to Titan’s left cheek. The mass of enthusiastic volunteers and workers followed the horse into the open area in front of the stable.