Green Fire (14 page)

Zipp sat on the bed behind her, watching her through half-shut eyes. Rani turned around to scratch his ears. "You were a hero today, Zipp. Did you realize that? Tracked me down through the woods like a smart hunting dog. Sorry, no offense."

Zipp's purring engine rumbled into full throttle. Rani watched him for a moment as he sprawled contentedly on the bed while she thought about her other rescuing hero. Flint hadn't quite matched up to her inner image of a hero, although she had to admit he had arrived on the scene with excellent timing. Timing was undoubtedly a major factor in that sort of thing. In all her safe, prosaic life Rani had never before gotten herself into a situation from which she needed rescuing. She wondered at her odd reaction.

Maybe it was the sight of the gun Flint had been carrying when he'd shown up out there in the woods that had upset her. Here she was complaining about all the hunters on the loose in the vicinity without even being aware that her nearest neighbor had a very ugly weapon of his own. Rani knew enough about guns to know that handguns did not come under the heading of sporting equipment. Handguns were designed with only one purpose in mind. That purpose wasn't shooting deer.

Something else was bothering her, too. There had been a quietness about Flint when he'd found her in the woods. A lethal, efficient, competent quietness that she only now acknowledged. It had seemed to come from deep within him, and it hadn't faded much when they'd reached the safety of the house. Rani stood gazing out her window into the garden, absently stroking Zipp. It was Flint's unnatural inner stillness that was causing part of her feeling of unease. Rescuing heroes were supposed to sweep you into their arms and offer comfort and soothing sympathy. Rani didn't think she was likely to get very much of that from Flint. Perhaps it was just as well. She wasn't quite sure how she would react if Flint ever took her in his arms and offered real comfort.

The clatter of glasses being taken from the kitchen cupboard jerked her attention back to the moment. Rani sighed, stopped petting Zipp and headed down the hall to the kitchen. Aware that the free stroking was over for the moment, Zipp bounded off the bed and followed.

"Want a drink?" Flint inquired calmly as Rani appeared in the doorway. "Personally, I need one." He was already pouring himself a glass of amber liquid.

"Where did you get the whiskey?" Rani asked, more for something to say than anything else. She just couldn't quite figure out how to take Flint Cottrell, she realized.

"Picked it up in town after I went to the hardware store."

"Oh. I think I'd rather have a glass of wine."

"Suit yourself." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Chemin Blanc that Rani had been chilling. "How are you feeling? Still shaky?"

Rani began to relax a little, coming to the conclusion that Flint was now genuinely concerned about her emotional state. "Not really. But I feel a bit strange. I guess near misses affect a lot of people that way.''

"Ummm." He removed the cork efficiently and poured wine into a glass. Vaguely Rani recalled that he'd once tended bar in some far-off corner of the world.

"You, uh, been around a lot of near misses in the course of your career as a handyman-gardener, Flint?" She hadn't intended to ask such a provocative question, but as he put the cold glass of wine in her hand, Rani couldn't seem to stop herself. Something about him made her want to goad and provoke a little. She was beginning to realize she wanted some answers about this man.

"A few." He leaned back against the sink and sipped the neat whiskey. His steady green gaze rested on her face. "The sheriff said he'd send someone out to scout the area where the shots were fired but warned us not to expect anything. Whoever was hunting out there will be long gone by now."

"Especially after having taken return fire from the 'deer' he thought was going to be such an easy target. I'm sure you put a scare into whoever it was, Flint."

"You looked more than a little scared yourself when I found you. I'm glad you had the sense to get down and stay down."

"It came naturally after the first shot went overhead," she retorted.

"Yeah, I guess it would. Don't go for any more solitary hikes again, Rani."

She slanted him a half-resentful glance. "I don't need the lectures, Flint. I've told you that. If it's any consolation, you don't have to worry. I won't be running around in the woods until after hunting season is over."

"Poor Rani. You're not used to getting lectures, are you?"

"Nope." She smiled suddenly. "But I do know how to say thank you. I do owe you my thanks. I was very glad to see you coming through the trees this afternoon, Flint." She put down her glass and stepped toward him. He didn't move as she stood on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his.

"You always say thanks like that?"

Rani flushed slightly, moving away. She didn't understand his reaction. She'd assumed he'd appreciate the small kiss. "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. Would you prefer a check instead? For services rendered? I believe you told me that you'd done some bodyguarding during your career as a handyman. I'm willing to pay for professional expertise."

"Stop it, Rani."

"Stop what? I don't know how to handle you, Flint. You come to my rescue as though you've done that sort of thing a lot. Then you act as if it was mostly my fault that I needed rescuing in the first place. Now you criticize me for trying to express a little gratitude. What is it with you?"

He stared at her for a moment and then muttered something under his breath that she couldn't quite catch. "I told you, you gave me a scare this afternoon."

"I gave myself one, too!"

"I know. I'm feeling a little tense."

"Is that an explanation or an apology?" she asked.

"Just a statement of fact."

"Try some more whiskey," she suggested blandly. "Maybe it'll help."

He shook his head, a reluctant smile catching the edge of his mouth. "I think it's going to take more than a little whiskey. How about you?"

She slowly returned his attempt at a smile. "Speaking for myself, it's going to take at least a second glass. I'm a little tense, too."

"You want some company for dinner?"

"Don't be subtle, Flint. Why don't you come right out and ask to stay for dinner?"

He grinned and took one gliding step forward. He rested his arms on her shoulders, his glass still held in his right hand behind her head. Very slowly he lowered his mouth to kiss her, a slow, lingering, hungry kiss that penetrated all the way to her toes. When he lifted his head, there was a hint of green fire in his eyes.

"May I stay for dinner?"

"Yes," Rani agreed, aware of the huskiness in her voice. "You can stay."

For a moment they stood very still, looking at each other and then, as though satisfied with what he saw in her face, Flint nodded his head once and released her. "I make one of the world's best salad dressings."

"You do?" She watched in amusement as he opened the refrigerator again and started moving items.

"Worked for a guy once who had a French chef. I spent a fair amount of time in the kitchen. Mostly I spent the time eating. The salad dressing was the only thing I really learned how to make."

Rani didn't ask what kind of work Flint had done for the guy who'd had his own French chef.

The dressing was delicious. It went perfectly on the spinach-and-mushroom salad. By the time dinner was over, Rani's inner tension had dissolved. So, apparently, had Flint's. He made himself at home in the living room after dinner, sprawling in a chair with Zipp on his lap and talked lazily about the article he was trying to write. Rani sat listening, her feet curled under her and wondered about this most unusual man who had wandered into her life. She felt bemused and amused, fascinated and wary, attracted and cautious. All in all, she simply didn't know what to do with Flint Cottrell.

"I didn't tell you the last story I've documented concerning the ring," said Flint.

"Does it follow the pattern of the other two tales?"

"Yeah. Except the lady in this case was the daughter of a wealthy Texas rancher. She got kidnapped and held for ransom by outlaws."

"Was the hero one of the outlaws?"

"No. He was a cowboy with a somewhat shady past who knew how to handle a gun. The lady's father hired him to get his daughter back."

"Which he did, right? And then he proceeded to fail in love with the lady who, of course, spurned him," Rani concluded spiritedly.

"Have you heard this story?"

"No, but I told you, I'm beginning to see a pattern in these Clayborne ring stories of yours. What happened this time, Flint? Did the gunslinging cowboy lose his patience and rekidnap the lady for himself?"

"You
have
heard this story before," he accused.

"No, just a couple of very similar ones. It's a male fantasy, you know."

"What is?"

"Women falling in love with their captors."

"These women don't fall in love with just any captors. They don't fall for the bad guys. Just the good guys. Who, according to the legend, are captivated themselves."

"Because of the ring?"

"Or something." Flint smiled cryptically.

"Going to spend your whole life chasing legends, Flint?"

"I've already spent enough time chasing legends. What about you, Rani?" Flint asked suddenly. "Going to work in a library all your life?"

"What's wrong with working in a library?"

"Nothing. Going to get married?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't feel any great urge to marry. Do you?"

He looked thoughtful. "I haven't until now."

"You're almost forty, aren't you?

"Don't remind me."

"If you have successfully resisted marriage this long, you'll probably manage to do it a while longer."

"It's not that I've resisted it, exactly," he said, frowning. "There just hasn't been room in my life for a single, special woman."

"Because you're always on the move? Always chasing legends?"

"That part of my life is ending, Rani."

"How many times have you told yourself that in the past?" she countered gently.

He looked startled. "Not once. This is the first time."

"Don't worry. I'm sure by the time you're finished here, you'll be anxious to move on again."

"Is that why you're so wary of me? Because you're afraid I can't make a long-term commitment? You always play it safe, don't you? You're such a sweet little coward, Rani."

"No," she protested softly. "Just cautious."

He smiled faintly and pushed Zipp off his lap. The cat stalked off to the kitchen to see what was left in his food dish. Flint watched him go and then looked at Rani. "You'll never get rid of that cat, you know. He's with you for the duration."

"He knows a good thing when he's got it."

"So do I, Rani." Flint got to his feet and reached down to tug her up beside him. "So do I."

Rani felt the jumble of emotions within her suddenly begin to swirl together in a dizzying mix. She tried to recover her sense of wariness but found herself getting excited instead. Instinctively she made another grab for self-control only to discover she was clutching desire. It was unsettling. Flint was unsettling.

"Show me you're not a coward," he whispered, wrapping her slowly, inevitably, within his arms. "Thank me again for coming to your rescue today.''

"Subtlety is definitely not one of your social skills." But she was smiling up at him, her eyes full of the precarious mixture of emotions she was feeling.

"I'll skin the subtlety and try for honesty." Flint took her mouth with sudden intensity, one strong hand curving around her head to anchor her for the deep kiss.

Rani sucked in a shaky breath and felt the most dangerous of the swirling emotions rise to the surface. Flint's mouth was hard and warm and infinitely exciting. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the passion that flared between herself and the unpredictable, mysterious man who held her. There was no doubt about the need in him, no question of his desire. Of that much she could be absolutely certain.

Rani's hands settled on Flint's shoulders where she could feel the strength in him. But there was a curious gentleness in the way he held her, a tenderness that took away any fears she might have had. When she parted her lips for him, Flint groaned and eagerly took the offering. He explored her mouth urgently, seeking to know the warmth and promise there. Only when he had drunk his fill did he break off the kiss to taste the skin of her throat.

"Flint." His name was a faint, breathless whisper on her lips as Rani nestled against his shoulder. His leg moved, his thigh pushing deliberately against her. The hardness in him took away what remained of her breath.

"You're trembling, sweetheart." He held her even more tightly, as if to stop the fine tremors that rippled through her. "Don't be afraid of me."

"I'm not," she said simply, unable to explain why she was shaking. The thrilling excitement rushing through her could not be contained. She caught his head between her palms and kissed him with soft fierceness. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking down at her, his gaze so brilliant it almost dazzled her.

"I'll take care of you, Rani. I swear it. I'll take good care of you."

"I believe you." She smiled gently. "But I'm not sure that being taken care of is quite what 1 need tonight."

He bent his head and delicately nipped at her earlobe. "No? What do you need?"

"Do I have to put it into words?"

"Please," he asked in a dark, husky voice. "I need to hear the words."

She sighed, leaning into him so that she could feel all of his heat and desire. The last of her caution evaporated in the flames of this new, raw emotion. "I need you."

"Ah, Rani, my sweet, Rani." Exultantly he scooped her up into his arms and strode toward the bedroom. Rani clung to him, burying her face against his shoulder, one hand toying with the button of the blue cotton work shirt he wore.

With a conscious act of will, she put all thoughts of past and future out of her head.

The bed lay in darkness, and Flint didn't bother to turn on a light. He settled Rani down on the quilt with infinite care and leaned over her, his hands planted on either side of her. She lay looking up at him, her eyes slumberous, her mouth slightly parted. When she touched the side of his face with her fingertips, Flint turned his head to kiss her palm.