Blue Jeans and a Badge (6 page)

But not with Luce Montgomery. No way. She was too much like that other woman. He knew the signs all too well. She had a gypsy soul and would never settle down. That much was obvious.

But damn, could she kiss.

And he wanted her. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her.

 

The area down around Abiquiu was one of Philip's very favorite parts of New Mexico. True, Piñon Lake up in the Enchanted Circle was beautiful with its pristine forests and commanding views of the desert below, and he liked the cooler summer climate and the big drifts of snow in the winter. That's why he'd settled up there.

But the desert drive along Highway 84 between Española and Chama was incredible. The two-lane macadam road was bordered on either side by a rolling band of red-brown earth dappled with sage, cedar and stubby grass, miles wide on the southwestern side where the Rio Chama with its blue waters and green cottonwood bosques wended its way down to the Rio Grande. To the north and east were the primitive red and yellow striated cliffs of El Monte Rojo and its compadres, to the south the purple shadows of the Pedernal; in the distant west the San Pedro Mountains stretched out like a lazy freight train along the horizon.

Certainly, it wasn't as spectacular as the Grand Canyon nor as wondrous as Bryce or Zion, but it had a stark, wild beauty that Philip had always admired greatly.

He turned to Luce to see her reaction and was pleased by the smile of appreciation on her face.

“Boy, this is something,” she said.

“God's country,” he concurred. “Georgia O'Keefe lived just up the road, you know.”

“Really?” She glanced down at the bad copy of the even worse newspaper photo in her hand. “Too bad she didn't paint this picture. I'll bet our canyon would have been much easier to locate. How on earth are we ever going to find this place in—” Luce gestured with a sweeping motion “—all that?”

He sighed. “With a lot of shoe leather and a lot more luck.”

 

As it turned out, they had no luck at all. And Luce's city sneakers didn't fare much better. They might be fine for chasing bad guys, but were definitely not designed with the rugged New Mexico terrain in mind. Before the afternoon was out, they were dirty and shredded. Philip felt sorry for her having to walk in them.

“We better pick you up some boots tonight,” he remarked as they sat on a large sandstone slab and sipped from water bottles, watching the shadows of evening creep over the vast desert splayed at their feet. The Jeep was sitting just a few dozen yards away so they didn't have to worry about getting lost after dark, and they definitely could use the rest. They'd been hiking up and down arroyos and foothills on and off for five hours, and were looking at a two-hour drive back to Piñon Lake.

“Those sneaks have had it.”

“They don't know what hit 'em,” Luce said with a chuckle, flopping her feet up and down. One of the soles had come unglued, so it flapped in the breeze. “Got any duct tape?”

“At home,” he said with a sidelong glance, bottle to his lips.

She cut him a look. “Damn, you're persistent.”

“Get used to it.”

She fiddled with her water bottle and gazed out over the landscape. He relaxed back with an elbow on the warm,
gritty slab and watched her instead of the dramatic sunset. At least she wasn't telling him to go jump in the lake.

“I guess I shouldn't be discouraged we didn't find the canyon today,” she said with a sigh, “but I am.”

“Me, too,” he admitted. “But we'll find it tomorrow.”

“Think so?”

He shrugged. “Hope so. We covered less than half the territory today.”

She propped back onto both elbows, gazing at the last sliver of sun disappear. “At least we didn't meet up with any wild animals.”

He smiled. “You stomped loud enough to scare off anything for miles around. No wonder your shoes are in pieces.”

“Your idea, lawman.”

“Well, it worked, didn't it?”

She looked over at him, amusement twinkling in the fading light. “Thank goodness.”

“For such a tough girl, you sure are a wuss, bounty hunter.”

“Yeah, but I have you to protect me.”

He knew she was just teasing, but for some reason hearing her say that gave him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to reach for her and pull her into his arms and tell her he would always protect her from whatever harm came her way.

Ridiculous, really. She could take care of herself, anyone could see that. But still, it felt good. And it got him thinking about holding her in his arms.

As if reading his thoughts, she rolled onto her side and mirrored his head-on-hand pose.

“Philip?”

“Yeah?”

“Regarding what we were talking about earlier.”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“I'm honestly not trying to be difficult or old-fashioned or anything.”

“Okay.”

“I just think, under the circumstances, starting…anything…would be—”

“A bad idea.”

She puffed out a laugh. “Do I sound like a broken record?”

“A bit.”

It was dark now, but they were lying so close he could still see her features, illuminated by the brightening canopy of starlight. It was hard not to reach out and run his hand along the curve of her hip, or his finger along the edge of her cheek, but somehow he managed to still the impulse.

“On the other hand…” She sighed. “I'd really like to kiss you right now.”

His body suspended for a second in surprise. Then leaped in anticipation. “Okay.”

“Here's the thing…”

He struggled to keep his expectations under control. “Mmm?”

“Just a kiss. It can't be more than that.”

Knowing very well he'd take whatever he could get, he pretended to consider. After an appropriate pause he said, “Okay.”

“No getting naked. No going to your place. No sex.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Take it or leave it. But I wouldn't blame you if you said no.”

The woman was obviously not too knowledgeable about men if she thought a few rules would stop him. “I'll take it,” he said. Duh.

He smiled and waited.

She waited, too. After a moment she said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren't you going to kiss me?”

“You said
you
wanted to kiss
me.
”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I did.” She licked her lips and scooted her body a little closer. They were still not quite touching.

It was torture, but he didn't jump her. He let her take her
time with him. Enjoying the tightening sensations in his body caused by the anticipation, he didn't budge an inch to help.

“You're not making this very easy on me,” she murmured.

He lifted a brow and smiled. “What's this? Don't tell me the lady's scared to kiss a man?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed, and edged a tad closer, so their thighs skimmed up against each other. He felt himself grow hard, even at that delicate contact. “It's just…”

With supreme effort he didn't move, not even when she took a deep breath and her breasts brushed softly against his chest.

“Just what?”

“I'm usually the one trying to keep my distance.”

“I noticed.”

She puffed out a nervous laugh. “You're not like other men.”

“Trust me, I am.”

“No. Other men would be all over me.”

“Give me about thirty seconds if this keeps up.”

He could feel the smile on her lips when they met his. It was a sweet, tentative kiss, and all too short.

“Mmm,” he said. “That was nice. But I happen to know you can do better.”

She moved her body right up against his. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said in his best dare-you voice.

This time when she put her lips to his she didn't pull back. She put her arm around his neck and drew him closer. He opened his mouth to let out a moan of bliss, and she slid her tongue between his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, and gave himself up to the taste and sensation of her hot tongue gliding over his, probing, teasing, driving him mad with want. He put his arm around her bottom, pulling her body tight to his, center to center as she kissed him.

Her other arm went around his neck, bringing him down off his elbow to cant over her. His knee landed between her legs, his chest pressing into her breasts.

“This is a dangerous position,” he whispered into her mouth.

In answer, she levered over, spilling him onto his back, with her canted over him. “Better?” she asked between kisses.

“Define
better.
”

He felt her smile again, and she grasped his wrists in her hands. A spurt of excitement curled through him when he realized what she was doing. He willingly let her gather his wrists above his head and straddle him, her mouth never lifting from his.

Her breasts squashed onto his chest, their hard little tips poking into him, tempting his fingers to seek them out for special favors.

But he'd promised.

“Take off your top,” he urged, hoping she'd forget.

“Just kissing,” she reminded him, lacing her fingers through his, still above his head.

“Damn, woman,” he groaned. “You're killing me.”

“Want me to stop?” she asked, her succulent mouth pausing in its task of licentious exploration.

He closed his eyes and forced his wound-up body to uncoil a little beneath her. “Maybe when I'm dead,” he murmured.

He could do Zen. He'd do anything it took to keep her on top of him with her mouth fused to his.

He tightened the weave of their fingers and waltzed his tongue over hers. And prayed he had the strength to be patient. Because there was not a doubt in his mind that he was right. She
would
end up naked under him.

It was just a question of when.

But there was a bigger question starting to play in his mind. One he wasn't quite so comfortable with. And that was, how would he ever let her up once he got her there?

T
he whole next day Luce spent following Philip's backside up and down the steep, rocky washes and flat-topped cliffs around Abiquiu—which he called arroyos and mesas—looking for Clyde's box canyon.

As backsides went, Philip's still made her mouth water, just as it had that first night. So, even though her legs ached and her new boots pinched a little through the thick socks Philip had made her buy with them, she didn't mind so much traipsing along after him. Let him watch for the canyon. She enjoyed watching the back of his jeans.

Even though they hadn't found the canyon yet, it had been a fun day together. She'd grown more used to hiking around in the middle of nowhere, and wasn't totally unnerved by the great outdoors any longer. Philip kept up a running narration on the various plants, birds and rock formations, bringing the harsh landscape to life. It was nice being with him. Comfortable.

This morning at the motel hadn't even been awkward,
which was slightly amazing. In the past whenever Luce had played hard-to-get with a man, he'd always avoided her like the plague afterwards, usually permanently. Not that she'd ever been
playing.
She'd just rarely wanted what those men had wanted.

Last night she'd been tough on Philip, kissing him for a long time before declining to go any further, as she'd told him from the start was her intention. He probably had no clue that the line had probably been harder for her to draw than it had been for him not to cross it. Because this time she
did
want what he wanted.

So after all that, she'd been more than a little surprised when he'd shown up at her motel room door that morning with a smile and a kiss and a bag of crullers like nothing at all unusual had happened the night before.

Okay, all right, there had maybe been that one awkward moment. When he'd seen the red patches on her jaw and told her she needed to wear more sunscreen today because she'd gotten sunburned yesterday, and she'd informed him that it wasn't the sun that had burned her. It had taken him maybe ten seconds to figure out what she meant. His hand had gone to his own jaw, and a weird look had come over his face.

“Oh,” he'd said, running his hand over the dark stubble that had yet to appear there that early in the morning, “Sorry. Next time I'll have to shave first.”

But he hadn't looked sorry at all. In fact, he'd looked proud and possessive, like he was making a note to himself to see whether he could put that redness onto other parts of her body later on tonight.

“Don't shave for my sake,” she'd told him. “I kinda like it rough.”

Right about then is when she'd grabbed the Walther and hurried out of the room because he'd gotten a look in his eyes like maybe he didn't want to wait until tonight, after all.

But when he'd gotten to the Jeep he'd been fine. More or less. He'd buckled up, then leaned over, grasped her behind
the neck and given her a thorough kiss, and said, “I had a real good time last night.” Then he'd let her go, started the Jeep and they were off to Abiquiu.

From then on it had been business all the way. For him, anyway. Okay, for her, too, since her business had been watching his butt all the way up and down those arroyos and mesas.

She really had to get a grip. Six hours, you'd think a woman would get tired of the same view.

All at once she ran right into him.

“Oof!” he went, and grabbed her arms to steady her. “Hey, watch where you're going, there.”

“I am,” she assured him, trying to hide her smile.

“Getting tired?”

“Not yet.” She felt her lips twitch.

“Is there something you're not telling me?”

“You don't have that kind of time.”

He gave her a puzzled look, then said, “You
haven't
been watching. You didn't even see that bear, did you?”

She did a semipanicked three-sixty of the landscape, which was thankfully devoid of wildlife. “What bear?”

He harrumphed. “I knew it.”

She scrunched her mouth up. “You tricked me.”

“You're supposed to be looking for the canyon, not watching the ground for snakes. That's why I'm going first.”

She blinked. So he wasn't on to her. Thank goodness. “Sorry. It's just, you've got the newspaper photo. And everything looks the same to me, anyway.”

Which was true enough. She'd just about figured out the difference between a mountain and a mesa. The mesa was flat,
mesa
being the Spanish word for table. She was still working on arroyos and barrancas, which looked identical to her.

Philip gave her a sympathetic smile, and pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in his arms. She sighed, suddenly realizing that was exactly what she'd wanted him to do for the past
few hours. She
was
tired and really wanted to be grouchy, but she liked being with him so much she couldn't bring herself to be upset about wasting almost the entire day on a wild-goose chase. God, what was wrong with her?

“Shall we call it a day?” he asked, even though it was only about three in the afternoon.

“We haven't covered the whole area we wanted to check,” she protested, but only halfheartedly. She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “We should keep going. My boss only pays for three days' expenses per job, so starting tomorrow I'm on my own dime.”

“He pays a per diem?” Philip asked.

“Only as long as I keep up my success rate,” she joked. But not really. She was lucky he paid any expenses at all. Most bondsmen didn't.

“You could move in with me,” Philip suggested. His voice was neutral, but she could feel his muscles pull her closer.

“Yeah, that would be a good way to keep myself out of your bed,” she answered with a wry chuckle.
Not.

“I have a guest room.” He tipped her chin up. “Don't you trust me?”

“It's not a matter of trust, Philip. It's a matter of prudence.”

“Hmm,” he said, and kissed her.

She gave a hum of enjoyment as she opened to him, loving the taste of him in her mouth and the smell of him surrounding her. She was getting used to touching him, having his body pressed up against hers. She liked it. She liked it a lot. Which was why this whole thing was so dangerous.

But before she could pull away, he did.

“Let's get out of here,” he said. “I have an idea.”

So did she. She just hoped his wasn't the same as hers.

Because then she'd be in big trouble.

Not that she wasn't already.

“Where are we going?” she asked when they'd gotten back to the Jeep and were bumping down the dirt road.

“I realized we've been going about this canyon thing the wrong way.”

“Oh?”

“Didn't the old ladies say the kids hid out in some kind of ruins in that canyon?”

“That's how the story went.”

“Well, have we seen any ruins yet?”

“Nope.” She slapped her forehead as it dawned on her where he was going. “Lord, why didn't we think of that before?”

“Pretty dumb not to check the archaeological maps, eh?”

“Or talk to someone. Do you know anyone in the ruins business?”

He thought for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah. I know someone who works as an archaeologist at the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture in Santa Fe. We could call her.”

Luce didn't know why the instant he said “her” Luce's insides suddenly churned into one big, irritated knot. She certainly didn't want to know how Philip knew “her.” Or how well.

“Sounds good,” she forced herself to say, and turned to look out the passenger window until she could get her frown under control.

“Renata's great,” he said, oblivious to the fact that Luce didn't give a tinker's damn how great Renata was. “She's one of those women who walks into a room and lights it up with her presence and enthusiasm,” he continued, and Luce set her jaw. “She moved here from somewhere in Europe when she was a teenager and has been studying Indians and ruins ever since. She's absolutely beautiful,” he said, and Luce wanted to lean over and strangle the breath out of him so he'd stop talking about the stupid b— “You'd never know she just turned seventy.”

Seven—

Luce whipped him a glance and he returned a guileless smile. The rat. He'd known exactly what he was doing,
and
her reaction to it.

“Delightful. Can't wait to meet her,” Luce said. And wondered about the sad state of her sanity. But she didn't have time to wonder too much, because just then Philip's cell phone rang.

He grabbed it off the console and glanced at the screen. “It's Ted. Maybe he found something for us. Hey, buddy,” he said into the phone. “What's up?” He listened for a moment, then said, “We're heading that way right now.” After another moment he looked at his watch and said, “Sure, we'll meet you there about six.” Another pause, then a grin. “Yep, she'll be with me.”

When he hung up, she tipped her head at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Says he might have something of interest concerning Clyde Tafota.”

“He's turned up?”

“No, something about a job he did recently.” He shot her a wink. “I really think Ted just wants to meet you. I said we'd meet him at the Shamrock Slipper for dinner. My treat.”

She wasn't sure quite how to respond to any of that. So she settled for, “Why would he want to meet me? How does he even know about me?”

“I may have mentioned you in passing.”

She hiked a brow.

“A couple times.”

She hiked the other brow.

“I may have confessed I thought you were hot.”

Her jaw dropped. “Do grown men really say stuff like that?”

“Only when they're not thinking straight.” He gave her a little-boy smile. “Anyway, that's probably why he wants to meet you.”

She covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. “Oh, my God, Philip. What am I going to do with you?”

His smile turned lopsided, and she held up the other hand as she laughed, waving it in a “stop” gesture. “Don't answer that.”

“We could start with dinner and a movie,” he suggested, grinning.

“There's a movie theater in Piñon Lake?”

“No. But we can rent one and go to my place after dinner.”

“You've got a one-track mind, O'Donnaugh,” she said with amused exasperation.

She'd never experienced this kind of pursuit before—where
she
was the quarry being run to ground. But it also felt…good. Nobody'd ever wanted her this much, in quite this way. Not a nameless he-just-wants-to-jump-her-bones way, but in a real, he-wants-Luce-Montgomery way. Philip had made it clear he wanted her, but he really wanted
her.

“Determination,” he said. “That's what makes me a good cop.”

“I can believe it,” she muttered, affection and admiration all mixed up with a rising dose of alarm. How could she possibly keep this man at arm's length?

“I guess it's only fair to warn you,” he said, and suddenly she wondered if she really
wanted
to keep him at arm's length.

“About what?” she asked, even more alarmed because somehow, deep down, she already knew the answer.

Then he looked her straight in the eye and smiled. “I always get what I'm after,” he said. “Always.”

 

Since they had plenty of time for the trip back to Piñon Lake, Philip made a stop in Santa Fe at the museum to see if Renata was in town or out on a dig somewhere.

“Dr. Jesper will be back from Albuquerque tomorrow,” they were informed.

Philip left her a note, and they walked around the collections for a few minutes before leaving.

“Some beautiful things,” Luce said as they admired the ancient pottery. “These are awesome. How old did you say they were?”

“These are a few hundred years old, but some of the pueblos around here make some pretty good reproductions if you're interested.”

“Yeah? I may have to think about switching my collection.”

“You collect pottery?”

She gave him a goofy smile. “Um, not exactly.”

“What do you collect?”

She stuck her tongue inside her cheek. “It's a little embarrassing to admit.”

“Dildos?”

She barked out a burst of laughter and smacked him lightly on the arm. “No! Not— I collect Santas.”

“Santas? As in ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas?” She nodded and he broke out in a wide grin. “You're kidding me.”

She smothered her own grin and poked him in the chest. “One more word and you're a dead man, O'Donnaugh.”

He lifted his hands as he laughed. “Okay, I surrender.”

“I've collected Santas ever since I can remember,” she said, and rubbed her arms up and down as if cold. “My mom said Santa's image was a comfort to me when I was first adopted, so she indulged my obsession.”

Philip's laughter caught in his throat. He pulled her to him and kissed her temple. “Well, I think it's sweet. We'll have to find one for you with a southwest flair. Maybe one landing on a cactus in the fireplace or something.”

She chuckled and nestled in his embrace. “You don't think it's silly?”

“Nothing wrong with silly,” he said, and kissed her. “So, do you have fantasies about Santa, too? You know, like maybe after he's done with the presents he sneaks into your bedroom and—”

“Philip!” she squeaked, scandalized, pushing out of his arms with a giggle. “You are so bad!” She marched off toward the front entrance.

“Just wondering if I should get myself a red suit,” he
called after her, raising the curious head of a guard along the way.

By the time he'd chased her back to where they'd parked the Jeep, she was laughing and put up only a token fight when he swept her into his arms and gave her a proper kiss. The one he'd been wanting to give her all day.