Fools Rush In (8 page)

The sharp surge of excitement caught her off guard.

One moment they had been arguing, and the next, without warning, the air was charged with electricity, a taut, quivering awareness that pulsed between them and made every nerve ending in her body stand at attention.

His nearness, the warmth in his gaze, the husky timbre of his voice, all had a devastating effect on Erin. Her heart beat faster; her chest tightened. She was acutely conscious of the light touch of his hand against her cheek. Beneath it, her skin grew flushed as a tingling heat radiated outward from each tiny point of contact.

Her breathing was suddenly shallow, almost painful, and as she gazed at him in the shadowy dimness, she felt an insane desire to turn her face into his palm and kiss it, to run her tongue over that ridged, sensitive flesh and taste him.

The thought shocked her, and she swallowed hard, thrusting it away. The attraction was strong—she felt it humming between them—but she knew that she couldn't, she mustn't give in to it. No matter what Max's feelings were, Elise was in love with him. She had to remember that.

Erin edged back just enough to pull free of his hand. "Well, since you insist, I have to admit that I'm grateful for your help," she said, striving to keep her voice polite and friendly, unaffected. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure whereto start."

Max allowed the retreat, but the look in his eyes promised that the matter was far from forgotten.

He settled back against the door, drummed his fingers on the seat and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That would depend on whether or not you think she left town."

"I'm almost certain she did," Erin replied, relieved that the moment of sensual tension had passed. "Elise avoids stress or trouble of any kind. Something like this would send her—or anyone, for that matter—running, just as hard and as fast as she could go."

"Well, at least she didn't take her car. That was a smart move, and it shows she's not so panicked that she can't think straight. If someone on the police force is involved, it would be a simple matter to run a check on it. She'd probably have been picked up before she made the city limits."

Erin shivered, recalling the trouble she had attracted by using Elise's car.

Determinedly, she pushed the chilling memory aside and forced herself to think. "Which means she must have left by bus. Even if she managed to get on a flight, she would have taken a bus to the Albuquerque airport."

"Not necessarily. She could have taken a taxi or rented a car, or had a friend drive her." Max shrugged. "She may have even hitchhiked, for all we know."

Erin gave a startled little laugh. Then, realizing he wasn't kidding, she cocked her head to one side and studied him curiously. "You really don't know Elise very well, do you?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you all evening."

"Yes, well, believe me, it would never occur to my sister to stand by the side of the road with her thumb out, not even in a dire situation like this one."

Max grinned, his teeth a flash of white in the dimness. "No, that'd be more your style."

"That's right," Erin replied with a wry grimace. "If someone were after me, I'd light out of here any way I could."

"Then let me remind you that, indirectly, someone is after you. With that face, you're in just as much jeopardy as Elise."

Erin drew in her breath and clamped down on the spasm of fear that rippled through her. She could sense a lecture coming and was determined to dodge it. "All the more reason to hurry," she said briskly. "The sooner we discover where Elise went, the sooner I can get out of here. I think we should start at the bus station. I have a hunch she would have felt safer traveling in a group of people rather than being by herself in a rented car."

. Max fixed her with a hard look. She could feel his anger and exasperation simmering just below the surface, and she braced herself for an argument, but after a moment he heaved a sigh and straightened in the seat. "God, you're a stubborn woman," he muttered as he flicked on the headlights and put the car in gear.

She chose to ignore the remark, and after a moment Max said, "You do realize, don't you, that this will probably be a wild-goose chase. She could have caught a bus for the airport at any of a dozen or so hotels."

"Yes, I know. But we've got to start somewhere. If we don't have any luck at the bus station, then we'll try the airlines."

"Okay. Whatever you say. Just don't get your hopes up."

Falling silent, Erin turned her head and looked out the window. Hope was all she had at the moment. Since she'd arrived in Santa Fe her concern had grown steadily into worry with the passing hours. Now, knowing that someone out there was intent on harming her sister, that worry had burgeoned into outright fear. Without hope, it would overwhelm her.

A car darted in front of the Continental. Max cursed and slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward against their seat belts. Erin looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring straight ahead, intent on negotiating the narrow congested streets, but as Erin studied the grim set of his profile she felt a fresh rush of guilt.

She knew that Max was concerned for her safety and still not convinced that they were doing the right thing. She felt guilty for having involved him. It wasn't his problem.

But even more, she felt guilty for being attracted to the man her sister loved, guilty for the way she responded to him, for the feelings she couldn't seem to control. For those reasons alone she should have refused to let him help her.

It was strange, really, when she thought about it. She and Elise had never been attracted to the same type of man before. Erin smiled to herself as she recalled her brother-in-law's sandy-blond hair and ail-American wholesome looks. Tommy Holman had been an easygoing, loving, uncomplicated man with an endearing boyish charm. Even she, once she had stopped thinking of him as the nerdy boy next door, had realized that he was the perfect mate for Elise. But he'd been a far cry from Max Delany.

Erin had always been the one with a weakness for good-looking devils. The kind with that intriguing air of recklessness about them. Once again, she cut her eyes toward Max. Yes, he was definitely of the breed—a bit wild, a bit dangerous, a man of unbridled masculinity and passions. It was there in the roguish gleam in his eyes, the honeyed, slightly wicked drawl and that devil-may-care smile that played havoc with a woman's breathing and scattered her common sense to the winds.

Andre was such a man, Erin thought with a touch of sadness. Or at least, he had been in the beginning, when love was new. But he had changed, had become more and more conservative. Rigid. Demanding. What he had once found exciting and delightful had become an irritant, an intolerable flaw.

Erin had thought that her marriage and its demise had cured her of her penchant for dashing devils. Even for men in general. Since her divorce she hadn't been in the least attracted to any man... until Max.

And her sister had first claim.

A small, bemused smile tugged at the corners of Erin's mouth as she gazed past her own reflection in the side window at the darkened storefronts flashing by. In all honesty, she wasn't sure whether she should curse the fates or count her blessings.

Max pulled into a parking space by the curb and cut the engine. Erin glanced around and saw that they were stopped in front of a nondescript, darkened building. "Where's the bus station?"

"A couple of blocks down the street. Do you have a picture of Elise with you that I can show to the ticket agent?"

Erin gave him a dry look and reached for the door handle. "I don't need a picture. I've got this," she said, tapping the side of her face with her forefinger.

"You're not going in," Max stated. However, Erin was already climbing from the car, and the words bounced off her back.

"Oh, yes I am."

"Dammit, Erin! Will you— Oh, hell." The damaged door gave a protesting groan as he shouldered it open, and another when he slammed it shut. Max skirted the hood of the car at a lope and caught up with her before she reached the corner.

He stepped in front of her to block her way, but Erin kept going, and he found himself backpedaling as he argued. "Erin, listen to me. It would be better if you stayed out of sight. Can't you see that? What if whoever is looking for Elise is watching the station? Why do you think I parked so faraway?"

"I am not going to sit in a dark car like a frightened little mouse while you do everything, so just forget it, Delany. Besides, I doubt that they would still be watching the station. It's been hours since Elise took off."

Grim-faced, Max accepted defeat. "All right, you win. I just hope you're right," he muttered as he took her arm and fell into step beside her.

Despite her brave words, Erin's stomach muscles tightened as they stepped inside the brightly lit terminal, and when Max slipped a protective arm around her she didn't object. Alert and wary, he held her close against his side, his hard gaze making a continual sweeping search of the waiting room as they made their way to the ticket counter.

At that hour the terminal was not crowded, though it was far from empty, containing the usual assortment of weary travelers and people awaiting arrivals. Some were milling around, but many were reading or attempting to nap, while others passed the time in desultory conversation. A few just sat slumped in their seats, idly watching the ebb and flow of humankind around them.

A piercing wail rose above the low hum of voices. Erin felt Max's body tense as his head snapped around in the direction of the sound, then relax fractionally when he spotted a harried young mother struggling with an infant and two restive older children.

Ragged nerves and apprehension, both her own and Max's, put a fine edge on Erin's sensory perception, making her aware of every minute detail. The click of her heels against the floor, the staleness of the air, the rumble of engines and the hiss of air brakes beyond the glass doors, the ringing of the phones—each sound, each smell, each individual movement around them imprinted itself on her consciousness with sharp clarity.

A Marine, looking serious and young in his spit-and-polish uniform, paced slowly in front of the wall of lockers and glanced at the clock every now and then. In a corner a pair of lovers held hands and stared into each other's eyes, their faces somber and sad. Two elderly ladies sat side by side, nimble fingers working and knitting needles clacking, never missing a stitch as they chattered away. Across the aisle from them a derelict hunched down in his seat, trying to make himself invisible to the policeman standing by the door.

Three yellow Caution signs marked off an area where a custodian was swinging a wet mop across the floor in lazy arcs, and with each swipe the caustic odor of disinfectant rose from the damp surface to mingle with the other smells of cigarette smoke, cold coffee, diesel fuel and human bodies.

There were several ticket agents behind the counter, all of them busy with customers. Max steered Erin toward the shortest line, and while they waited he turned sideways and kept up his cautious surveillance. Finally their turn came, and they stepped forward. At the same time the clerk looked up.

"Good evening. Can I help—" He stopped, his eyes widening when they fixed on Erin. "Well, hello there, young lady," he said in mild surprise. "What are you doing still here? I thought you'd be halfway to San Francisco by now. Don't tell me you missed the bus?"

Erin's heart leaped with excitement, and she glanced at Max hopefully before answering. "No. That is.. .that wasn't me. It was my sister who caught the bus. Which is why we're here." She glanced around, then leaned closer and continued in a lower voice. "You see, it's important that I find her. Very important. Obviously she bought a ticket to San Francisco, but could you please tell me when she left, and what time she will arrive?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm not sure I should give out that kind of information."

Max made an impatient sound and reached for his wallet, but before he could get it out Erin leaned over the counter and placed her hand on the man's arm. "Please. This is a matter of life and death," she said, gazing at him beseechingly. "You have to help us. Please."

The man frowned, hesitating. He looked down at the delicate hand on his arm, then into her eyes, and apparently he read the desperate entreaty in her face. At last, coming to a decision, he glanced at his co-workers on either side and began to flip through the schedule book. "Well, now, let's see. If you were to take the 6:25 a.m. bus, you'd arrive in San Francisco—" he ran his finger down the timetable "—the following morning at 9:20." Keeping his face deadpan, he looked up and gave them a conspiratorial wink. "How's that?"

Erin's answering smile was brilliant. "Fine. Just fine. Thank you very much. You've been most helpful."

Max added his thanks and took Erin's arm. As they were about to leave he turned back to the man. "One more thing. Has anyone else made inquiries about a woman fitting the same description?"

Once again the man glanced at the people on either side of him. "Not that I know of. But then, I just work the night shift. And there are a lot of other ticket agents."

"I see. Thanks."

As they hurried from the terminal Erin could hardly contain her excitement. "Can you believe our luck?" she crowed. "We picked the right agent on the very first try. And he remembered her! Without our even asking!"

"It's that red hair," Max muttered, glancing at the short mop of curls that glittered in the artificial light. "It makes you stand out in a crowd." Plus, a man would have to be half blind or senile to forget a face like that, he added to himself, unreasonably irritated.

He hustled her toward the door so fast that Erin practically had to skip to keep up. Just before they reached it she dug in her heels and hung back.

"Max, wait! I want to use the phone to call the airport. If I can get a flight out right away, I can get to San Francisco in time to meet Elise's bus."

"Not here." Max looked around. His gut had been eating him alive ever since they stepped into the terminal. "C'mon. We'll find someplace less public," he urged, but Erin was already tugging him toward the row of pay phones.

Left with no choice, he stood beside her, facing the waiting room and impatiently tapping his foot as she made the call.

When she hung up the phone she was beaming. "There's a flight to Las Vegas with a connection that will put me in San Francisco hours before the bus arrives. If I leave right now, I'll just be able to make it. As soon as I get my bag out of your car, I'll take a taxi to the Albuquerque airport." She sighed and closed her eyes for an instant. "I can't believe we found her."