Blood And Bone (12 page)

“What is it?” Des asked, standing.

She balanced on one foot and lifted the other. Blood dribbled down the two inches of exposed glass lodged in her foot. “I have a hunk of window in my heel.”

He frowned and held his hand out to her. “That looks bad. Come here and sit down.”

He gripped her elbow and helped her limp to the couch. She flopped onto the cushion, a sharp throb pulsating in her heel. Holding her breath, she lifted her injured foot and inspected the damage. The jagged shard jutted from her flesh. Oozing blood smeared her skin. She tugged gently on the glass, sending fresh spikes of pain shooting up her leg again.

“Let me have a look,” Des said as he sat on the coffee table in front of her. He gripped her foot and she gasped.

“Damn it. Be careful, it hurts.”

Cupping her heel in one hand, he gently probed the bottom of her foot with the other, his touch was warm and cautious. “This is in pretty deep. Is your car locked?”

She nodded. “The keys are in my purse.”

He stood, gingerly set her foot down, grabbed her purse from the table and rooted through it. “Will I find any embarrassing feminine products?”

She widened her eyes with feigned innocence. “Like what?”

The telltale jingle of her car keys filled the quiet. “Ha. Got ’em. Be right back.”

He disappeared outside, was gone barely a minute before the door clattered open. Des strode toward her, the first aid kit tucked under his arm. “I bet your father would be happy to know you’ve gotten so much use out of this.”

“I’m sure he’d be gloating. After all, there’s nothing he enjoys more than telling me ‘I told you so’.”

She reached for the kit, but he held it just beyond her grasp as he sat on the coffee table across from her.

“I can take care of myself,” she told him.

“I’m sure you can, but I owe you one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Don’t
you
be ridiculous. Besides, your hands are still shaking.”

She closed her fingers into fists. Her injury provided a slight distraction from the evening’s events, but not enough for her to feel entirely normal again. She sighed. “Fine.”

Des gripped her heel tightly, with quick fingers pulled out the glass and pressed a gauze pad against the wound to stem the bleeding. Fresh pain soared up her leg, before settling into a dull throb.

“Your foot’s really bleeding.” He lifted the gauze. She tried to pull her foot away, but his hold tightened, and he grinned. “I still need to clean the cut and bandage you up.”

She glared while he opened the antiseptic pad’s foil package. The same brand he’d complained hurt when she’d used it on his face. “Remember, I could have left you at the side of the road last night.”

“Duly noted.” He applied the damp wipe to her oozing injury. Stinging flames licked at her nerve endings.

“Sadist,” she hissed. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and waited for him to finish. At last, the pain receded. When she opened her eyes, he was carefully applying a bandage.

“All done.” He bent his head and pressed his lips to the arch of her foot in a feathery kiss. A delicious tingle rippled over her skin. He peered up at her, those smoky eyes watching her through the hair that had fallen into his face.

She forgot the pain in her foot and a new ache settled low and deep inside her.

He eased off the table until he was kneeling on the floor between her legs, his gaze never wavering from hers. Her breath caught in her throat. His hands rested lightly on her knees, then slid slowly up her outer thighs as he leaned closer. The heat from his palms seeped through the thin cotton of her pajamas, burning away the last of her nerves.

A shiver slid over her, bringing with it gnawing need.

Wrong. Letting him touch her this way was wrong for so many reasons. Her book. His family. He was seven years younger than her and—

He pressed his lips to her throat. The damp heat of his mouth shot an invisible current directly to her core. She closed her eyes and bit back the moan swelling in her throat. Oh God, she wanted him. Maybe just one kiss, then she’d put a stop to all this craziness.

With her heart beating double time, she cupped both sides of his face and lifted his head. Stubble scraped her palms. He smelled good. Clean, spicy and male. She touched her mouth to his in a slow, drawing kiss. His lips parted and she met his tongue with her own, tasting him, sweeping the contours of his mouth.

He groaned and dug his fingers into her backside, pulling her forward and fitting his hips tight against hers. The friction sent tiny rockets of need bursting inside her. She moaned and arched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her body flush with his.

She should stop this, but he felt so good.

But I guess that wouldn’t matter to someone like you
. His angry words from earlier sounded in her ears. The furious accusation in his eyes while he listened to her interview with Robert flashed through her mind.

She turned her head and tore her mouth away from his.

“We can’t,” she said, her voice hoarse, her breath ragged. “My book. Your father.”

He nodded slowly, eased back, and stood, his expression inscrutable.

“I can’t do that with you.” No matter how badly she might want to. “Your family. My book.” Why couldn’t she stop babbling?

“You’re right, I know.” He raked his fingers through his hair. His chest rose and fell quickly. At least he looked as shaken as she felt.

With a deep breath, she started to stand.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning.

“I still need to call the police.”

“Stay where you are, off your foot. I’ll get your phone.”

“Thanks.”

Shayne watched as he bent and dug through her purse, unable to stop herself from admiring his lean, hard physique or imagining it without clothes. Good God, her reaction to him was insane. There was an undeniable chemistry between them, and it had her acting against her better judgment. After tonight, she would make a point of keeping her distance from him.

Of all of Dark Water’s finest who could have shown up, why did it have to be Avery? The man grated on Des’s last nerve. The cop strutted across the living room, his chest puffed out liked he’d hidden a pillow under his shirt.

“Two nights in a row, huh, Anderson? You must be doing something right,” Avery said when he spotted Des on the sofa. Des wanted to smack the knowing smirk off the cop’s face—though, after that kiss, the man wasn’t all that far off the mark—but Des had more to worry about than some dirty-minded cop’s innuendo or whatever there was between him and Shayne.

The memory of Tic’s voice, pumped full of malignant humor, made his heart pound. He flashed back to the night he’d found Tic with the waitress from Smitty’s. Her animal-like wails still rang in his ears. Her bloody face and the way her arm dangled after Tic had popped it from the socket still haunted him.

The woman had been too terrified to name Tic, claiming Des had been wrong, she didn’t know who her attacker was, but she was certain it wasn’t Tic. When the police pushed her for a name, she packed up and left town. No one had heard from her since.

Without her to back up Des’s story, he’d been left to twist in the wind. Not that he blamed her. Tic was a psychopath. God knew what the man was capable of.

And now he’d set his sights on Shayne?

Fear speared Des. He stood and wiped his damp palms on his jeans. Shayne looked over at him and rolled her eyes while Avery nodded and scribbled in his notebook.

Why had Tic homed in on her? Could he know she’d helped Des? If the man suspected Des had something going with her… Or could Tic have noticed her on his own, the same way he had with the waitress?

If tonight was all about the man’s predatory instinct, why not come in and make good on his threats? Why warn her to leave town?

The blood drained from Des’s head to his shoes in one quick rush.

Heddi.

…strong-arm tactics… I’ll take care of that.

Surely, she wouldn’t deal with a man like Tic? But the more he thought about it, the more plausible the scenario became.

“Did you see any of them, Anderson?” Avery’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.

“No,” he said.

Shayne folded her arms over her chest and glared at Avery.

“What about anything they were driving?” Avery asked.

Des shook his head.

“Did either of you recognize anyone’s voice?”

“After my run-in with Hudson last night, you might want to speak to him,” Shayne snapped.

Avery turned to Des. “You know Hudson pretty well, did you hear him out there?”

“No,” Des said. “I told you already, I didn’t recognize any of the voices.”

Shayne glared. “There was more than one man. At least, two others. And I had a strange encounter on my first day here with a man named Tic. Maybe he was involved.”

Des tensed. Fear wriggled low in his gut like a wet worm.

Avery glanced Des’s way before returning his attention to Shayne, and when he spoke next, a little of his bravado had slipped away. “Did he threaten you?”

She sighed. “No, he asked about my work.”

“Doesn’t exactly make him a likely suspect. There’s not much I can do for you with nothing to go on. I’ll file a report.”

“How helpful.” Shayne’s lips thinned into a tight line. Anger made her eyes glint like black glass.

“What would you like me to do?” Avery snapped.

“Oh, I don’t know. At least make a token effort to try and find the men who did this.”

Des snorted. “That’s asking an awful lot, Shayne. Wouldn’t want Avery to break a sweat or anything.”

Avery swung around, turning his bulldog glare on him, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned back to Shayne. “Let me give you some free advice, miss. There are some dangerous men in this town. You might want to think about that.”

He flipped his notebook closed and swaggered out the door. Shayne slammed it shut behind him.

“I hate that man,” she snarled, whirling back to Des. “You know, I have friends who are cops. Contacts from other books I’ve written. I ought to call them and see what I can do about making his life a living hell.”

Des knelt and started gathering the glass on the floor. “Wow. You’ve got a vindictive side.”

“I am
not
vindictive. I just have very strong feelings about right and wrong. And this good ol’ boy bullshit is starting to wear thin with me.” She sighed, turning her attention to the mess on the floor. “Forget it. I’ll get a garbage bag.”

“I’ll do it. You should get off your foot.”

“It’s fine, really.”

He didn’t argue with her. Together they cleaned up the glass and made a shoddy repair of the window by taping a large piece of cardboard over the hole. All the while, the air around them hummed with an invisible charge, like the air before a thunderstorm. The urge to pull her back to him, feel her moving against him while he lost himself in her touch and kiss appealed like nothing he’d known before, but giving in would be a mistake. Her book, Robert’s claims of innocence and Julia’s fragile mental state were all reason enough to keep his hands off Shayne. Heddi’s bringing Tic in to drive Shayne away was just an added bonus.

Hell, what a mess.

“Are you going to do what they said?” He stood back to admire their makeshift patch. Worry and indecision tightened his stomach into knots. “Will you leave town?”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Christ, Shayne, you’ve been threatened twice now in as many nights. Don’t you think you should start taking this seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously,” she said. “I’ll leave, as soon as I’ve completed my interviews and finished the research I came here to do. I have to write this book. I’m in too far to start all over again. I know you don’t want me writing about your family—”

“I don’t give a shit about the book right now. Write it, don’t. I don’t care. You and I both know my grandmother’s behind those men coming here tonight. What do you think will happen next when threats don’t work?”

“If you think Heddra Grey arranged for those men to come here, why didn’t you say something to Avery?” she demanded.

He threw his arms in the air. “Because Avery knows! Why else would Hudson stop you last night? Heddi doesn’t want you writing this book, it’s no secret.”

“Look, I’m going to take precautions. I’ll probably move to a hotel, even if I have to take something in the neighboring town. Or maybe you could see about finding me something not so isolated to rent.”

He nodded, his mind spinning. He could tell her who had been outside, what the man was capable of, but she’d go to the police and the police would do nothing. Somehow, no matter what Tic pulled, he managed to avoid arrest. Of course, if the man worked for Heddi, that would explain a lot. Shayne’s going to the police about the man would only paint a bigger target on her.

Still, he needed to make sure Shayne stayed away from him. “That guy you ran into, Tic, he’s dangerous. If you see him again, get as far away from him as possible. And don’t ever let yourself be alone with him.
Ever
.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and he tensed, certain she would insist he elaborate. Instead, she said, “Thank you for helping clean all this up.”

“You’re welcome. Let me stay tonight.”

She gave a short laugh, but it sounded tinny and false. Her smile looked strained. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea, do you?”

“I’ll sleep on your couch. Just for tonight.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Nothing will happen, I promise, and you’d be doing me a favor too. I haven’t slept, I’m exhausted. If I drove home, I’d probably wrap my car around a tree.”

“Fine. On the couch.” She turned and disappeared into her bedroom. When she returned, she was carrying a pillow and blanket. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He took the bedding and tucked it under his arm. As she started to turn away, he grabbed her hand and stopped her. Her fingers were cold and small in his palm.

“Des…”

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked.

“Of course I am. But I can’t run away every time I’m afraid.” She eased her hand from his grip. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.”