Playing With Fire (25 page)

“This calls for a face to face conversation, Erin. How about
I put you on the sofa?”

He rose to his feet, carrying her over to the large leather
sofa facing at an angle to the fireplace. Perching her against the rolled
leather arm, he tucked the blankets securely around her. Erin was struck by how
easily he carried her — as if she weighed nothing. While he went to kitchen to
get more hot chocolate for her, she had a better chance to examine her
surroundings. The great room was extraordinary. Gazing at the log walls, high
wooden beams anchoring a twenty-four-foot-high vaulted ceiling, and the
phenomenal stone fireplace covering most of one wall, it was hard not to be
overwhelmed. Wall-to-ceiling windows along the back of the house looked out on
a forest of towering pines, birch, and maple trees through which Erin could see
a lake. Even with the wind and rain sheeting against the windows, the view was
masterful. She never dreamed Nate lived in a place like this. It looked like a
home straight out of Architectural Digest.

Nate entered carrying a tray with a mug of cocoa, a bottle
of water, and a plate of fruit and cheese. Under his arm he’d tucked a bottle
of Blue Moon beer. He put it on the table in front of his chair with a sheepish
grin.

“Sorry, Erin. I can’t let you have any alcohol until we’re
sure you aren’t flirting with hypothermia. But, your color is better and your
body feels good — warm.”

He winked.

“In fact, the best word I can think of to describe it is
‘hot.’ By dinnertime, maybe you’ll be ready for a glass of wine.”

“No, no. I prefer hot chocolate. Especially the way you make
it. I can’t remember the last time I had marshmallows,” she added. She tossed
him a grim smile. “If I ever have. I think I may just be conjuring up a
different kind of childhood than I had.”

Nate’s eyes darkened.

“Someday, maybe you’ll tell me about that childhood, Erin.
It sounds like we had the same kind of beginning, but I got plucked out of the
sewer by the Langs — and John Roberts.”

“The Police Chief, John Roberts?”

“One and the same. He’s my mentor. Luke and Connor are like
brothers to me. They are my best friends. The Chief is the father I never had,
and I hope he’d tell you I’m the son he always wanted.”

Erin was stunned. She looked at the big man lounging in the
chair across from her. There was so much swagger on the surface, but a deeper
thoughtfulness resonated in his dark solemn eyes. She sniffed.

“No wonder you weren’t worried about Blake reporting you to
the Chief.”

Nate chuckled.

“Nah, the Chief’s been stockpiling reports on me since I was
fourteen years old. Some of them are even good.”

Erin hesitated, but she needed to bring it up.

“Nate, I need to call Blake.”

She wasn’t surprised at the flush that lit his cheeks or the
way his jaw tightened. The animosity between the two men was fierce. And
mutual.

“Nate, I was supposed to meet him. That’s where I was going
when the accident… when it happened. He’ll be frantic. He already worries about
me so much. I need to call him.”

Nate huffed out a hard sigh.

“You’re right, Erin. You do. Pete Marshal gave me your cell
phone. Somehow he managed to retrieve it from the wreck. But before you call
Blake, a couple of conditions. You can’t tell Blake, or anyone, where you are.
Do you understand? We’re gonna talk about this in a minute, Erin. But we both
know what happened today wasn’t an accident.”

Erin frowned.

“You can’t think Blake had anything to—”

Nate shook his head.

“No, as much as I can’t stand the guy, he does care about
you. It’s more than that, Erin. Until we figure out what the hell is going on,
you are in protective custody. You are safe here. This place is like an armed
fort. Just what you would expect from a paranoid son of a bitch like me. But
when you leave here, I’m gonna have an even tighter guard on you than I’ve had
up till now.”

Nate’s reference to having a “guard” on her startled her.
She was shocked that he had people watching her. His brazen assertion reminded
her of the ugly truth she’d been trying to forget. She was Nate’s number one
suspect in the murder of her husband. The dreadful thought twisted her stomach,
spoiling the taste of the sweet chocolate drink.

“I don’t know what thought caused that unhappy look to cross
your face, Erin. But go ahead and call Richards. Then you and I are going to discuss
a lot of things that we’ve been avoiding.”

He crossed over to a desk in the corner and took out her
cell phone. Flipping it on, he grimaced and snorted.

“The bastard is persistent. I’ll give him that. Christ,
there must be ten calls here.”

Erin sat up indignant at his presumption.

“I was supposed to meet him. And that’s my telephone, Nate.
You have no business taking my phone or commenting on my calls.”

“Honey, it is so much my business that I’ve had a tracer on
every call incoming and outgoing that you made on this phone in the last three
weeks.”

Erin was stunned. She couldn’t believe that he would calmly
confess to such an outrageous act. As though he had every right to snoop on
her, follow her, invade her privacy. Treating her like a murder suspect… A rush
of righteous anger washed over her — giving her strength.

“This is outrageous, Nate. Give me my phone. Now. Just so
you know after my
private
conversation with Blake, I am calling a cab. I
refuse to stay here with you. I must have hit my head harder than I realized. I
can’t believe I was stupid enough to let you bring me here.”

She stood and then reached for the arm of the sofa to steady
herself. She hoped the slight wave of dizziness she felt wasn’t noticeable.

Unfortunately, Nate noticed. He was at her side, instantly
settling her on the edge of the sofa. His voice was crisp, commanding.

“Sit down, Erin. I see we are back to ‘my house, my rules.’
Only this time the alternative isn’t the hospital. It’s a safe house. After we
talk, you can decide if that’s where you want to go. Now, for the call to
Blake. Here are the rules — my rules, remember?”

Erin sputtered in fury, but Nate merely gazed at her coolly
and handed her the cell phone.

“First, the call is on speaker so that I can hear every
word. Second, you are to tell him you are safe, in police custody. You may say
that the police are concerned about the accident and that until they get
reports back on the car, they want you to stay here. Tell him that it may be a
couple of days and that you’ll call him tomorrow with an update. Got that?”

His calm arrogance told her as clearly as anything could
that he was back in “cop mode.” Erin chastised herself for falling for his bait
and switch. Thinking back on the hours since he came to the accident scene, she
was furious. Warm hands. Hot cocoa. It was all a ploy to soften her up. To get
her to trust him, confide in him. And now he wanted to talk? Damn him! Wasn’t
that just too bad.

She fought against the urge to throw the hot chocolate at
him — marshmallows and all. Instead she turned her back on him and punched up
Blake’s number. The ringing tone filled the stormy air between her and Nate.

Blake’s anxious voice pierced the air.

“God, Erin, is that you? Oh my God, you have no idea. I’ve
been frantic. Are you all right? I finally got someone at the police station to
tell me that you were in that hideous accident. I didn’t know that until a
couple of hours ago. When I couldn’t find you at the hospital I’ve been sick
with worry. Where are you? Where have you been? Are you all right?”

Erin broke in.

“I’m sorry, Blake. I should have called earlier. I was in
the accident and was a little shaken. Nothing serious, but it frightened me.”

“Of course it did. From what I heard you could have been
killed. Where are you? I will come and pick you up. Just give me the address. I
can be there in minutes.”

Erin glared at Nate when he shook his head.

“No, Blake. That’s okay. I am fine.”

“You can’t be, Erin, not after something like that. I’ve
been so worried. When you didn’t come to the meeting, I called and left several
messages. At first I thought you had gone back to bed or you were angry with me
about what happened last night.”

Nate frowned and threw her a questioning look. She raised a
dismissive brow and pointedly turned away from him.

Blake continued. “Finally, I drove over to your place. Thank
God, you gave me a key. At least I was able to determine that you weren’t
inside hurt or something.”

When Nate’s frown deepened, Erin rolled her eyes hoping he
got the message that it was none of his business who she gave her keys to. Nate
walked over to the desk and wrote a note and handed it to her. It said.
‘Changed my mind. There are no alternatives. You’re staying here tonight’. When
she ripped up the note and threw it at him, he chuckled.

“Erin, can you hear me? Where are you?”

Erin realized Blake was talking to her but she was so
distracted by Nate’s presumptuous note that she hadn’t heard what he said.

“Blake, I’m sorry. I can’t talk now. I am safe. The police
want me to stay here. They are checking to see what happened to the car—”

“Wait. You’re with
the police
? I assumed you were
with Connor or his family. I understood his wife is giving birth. But the
police?”

For a moment there was silence. When he spoke, Blake was
clearly angry.

“Oh God, Erin. You’re with him. You are, aren’t you? Erin,
do you realize how dangerous that is? Do you understand what he is trying to
do? Erin, I’ve told you this before. He manipulates you and you let him—”

Erin cut him off. His words stung because they rang true.

“Blake, I’m fine. You need to realize as does everyone else:
I can take care of myself. I’ll call you in the morning and let you know when
I’m coming home. I’m sorry you were worried. I apologize for not calling
sooner.”

“Erin, wait, don’t say anything to—”

“Good-bye, Blake.”

Erin threw the phone across the room. It landed against the
stone hearth with a crash. She was furious at Blake for being so officious, and
furious with Nate for so many things she couldn’t count. Most of all she was angry
with herself for being such a fool. She stood up and moved toward the kitche — anything
to get away from Nate. Unfortunately she forgot Nate’s warning about her pants
being too big. Not only did they fall down, baring her bottom, but she tripped
over them at the same time and slipped on her stocking feet. She would have
crashed to the floor but Nate caught her from behind and broke her fall.
Instead of a grand exit, in a flurry of arms and legs, she landed like a turtle
on its back, her legs in the air, her bare bottom on the floor, and Nate
hovering over her. Every last ounce of her dignity fled in a torrent of tears
when his concern turned to mirth, and he burst out in a roar of laughter.

“Oh Erin, honey, tell me those are tears of laughter.
Darlin’ I’m sorry, but do you have any idea how funny this is? No, no, no,
Erin. You mustn’t cry unless you are hurt and then I will kill myself for
laughing at you. But honey, if you’re not hurt, please see the humor of this.”

Erin stifled her tears.

“Let me up, now, Nate. I’m leaving, right this minute.”

Nate rose up on his hands and knees, unable to stop
laughing.

“But darlin’, are you sure you want to do that? You don’t
have any pants on.”

Nate grinned at her tear-streaked face, trying to make light
of what happened. If he didn’t, all it would take was one look at her glorious
naked bottom and he would be on top of her. As it was, his dick was waving like
a flag on a pole. He silently groaned. How easy it would be to grab a couple of
pillows from the sofa. Put one under her head, the other under her ass and it
would be all over. With nothing but his sweats in the way he could be inside of
her in seconds.

He forced himself to kneel and pulled her up to her knees,
dragging her pants up to her waist. With her disheveled hair, flushed cheeks,
and eyes swimming with tears and indignation she looked like a little spitfire
ready to explode.

Her tirade began before he got her to her feet.

“Everything is funny to you, isn’t it Nate? And no wonder. I
admit. I am a big joke. How it must amuse you. The fact that I am humiliated.
That I am a foolish woman who falls for your outrageous charm. That I let you
hold me and kiss me while you are building a case against me? That you think I
murdered my husband? Is this the how you’re going to prove it? Is this the
plan, Detective? You’re going to screw me and then when I’m drowning in desire
for you you’ll force me to confess? Kind of like a deathbed confession, only
this is a fucked up one — a lover’s confession? Is that what you plan to do to
me, Nate?”

Tears streamed down her face. She was trembling, shaking
harder than she had at the accident scene. If he weren’t holding her up, he
knew she would fall to the floor. A flood of unreasonable fury contorted with
pain flooded him. He lashed out at her.

“Stop it, Erin. Now. You don’t know what you are saying.
Listen to me. I never thought you killed anyone. Ever! Do you hear me? Not for
one moment. I’ve always known you were innocent.”

Her face clouded with confusion. He saw the flash of hope in
her eyes quickly die. Replaced by disbelief.

Once again he picked her up, but this time he strode into
the kitchen. He parked her in one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it up to the
table. There was no way they could have this conversation unless he could look
her in the eye — and not touch her. He had to make her understand. Why, on the
surface, he had been so cruel. And why he hadn’t been able to let her know how
much it had hurt him to see her pain.

“Erin, I know you didn’t kill Dylan or Camilla or anyone
else. I’ve always known that.”