Less-than-Innocent Invitation (9 page)

“You were nearly killed, that's what.”

The implication of how close she'd come to dying hit her again as Aaron Hill rushed up to them. “Miss Mason, are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“I'm so sorry. I don't know how this happened,” he exclaimed, his face red. “What can I do for you?”

“Please, see to your employees and visitors,” Melissa suggested.

“And don't let anyone leave,” Logan ordered.

“Of course.”

They watched him hurry away and disappear into the crowd of people outside the room. “I can't believe this.” Melissa looked around. “How could the chandelier fall?”

“I don't know.” At this point, Logan suspected it wasn't an accident, so he wasn't letting Melissa out of his sight until he knew her life wasn't in danger.

Her gaze took in the hole in the ceiling, swept the room, then landed on the toppled podium.

The map!

A sick feeling came over her as she pulled away from Logan. Her pulse began to accelerate again and a knot formed in her throat. “Oh, no.”

Please don't let it be gone!

One glance at her and Logan knew something was wrong. “What is it?”

“I don't see the map.” Carefully navigating her way,
Melissa went to the podium, broken glass crunching beneath her steps. Logan was hot on her heels.

Together they searched the area. The map wasn't anywhere to be seen.

“Damn.” Logan let out a harsh breath. Someone
had
been after the map. Melissa's use of it had provided the perfect opportunity. Her life had meant nothing to whoever wanted it.

Dread filled Melissa's stomach. It had been at her request that the map had been unsecured. “I'm so sorry, Logan.”

“It's not your fault.” Rage tore through him as he looked at the chandelier again, and he thought about what it could have done to her.

“Yes, it is. The map was out because of my story. You warned me about the possibility of danger, but I didn't take you seriously.”

“If someone killed Jonathan Devlin because they were after the map, they could have gotten their hands on it by breaking into the museum. Filming your story only gave them another option.”

She caught her breath at the anger on his face. “I've put you in a bad position. I don't know what to say.”

He stared at her. “You think I'm angry at you?” She bit her lip and nodded. “God, no. But whoever did this is going to be sorry when I get my hands on them.” He stroked her hair from her face.

Mark walked up, tucking his cell phone in his pocket. “I've called Gavin. He's on the way.”

“The map is missing,” Logan informed his friend.

“What?” Mark took in the damage to the podium.
“Damn.” His jaw muscle twitched as a look of guilt filled his face. “I took my eyes off it after everything broke loose. Like you, I was heading for Melissa.” He swore a few choice words under his breath, then looked at Melissa. “Sorry.”

“That's okay, Mark. I'm the one who's responsible. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't asked for the map to be displayed,” she told him.

“Let's focus on getting it back,” Logan suggested.

“The camera!” Melissa said suddenly. “Maybe we caught the thief on film.” She glanced around for Rick. Spotting him across the room, she walked over to him, Logan and Mark right behind her.

Rick stopped filming and looked at them. “Yeah?”

“We need your help.” She introduced Mark to her coworker, then explained that during the commotion, Jessamine Golden's map had been stolen. “We're hoping you caught the thief on film. When did you stop shooting?”

He shook his head. “I didn't. The camera's been running the whole time. I heard someone shout, then I heard a loud
crack
. The next thing I knew someone knocked into me. I almost dropped the camera.”

“I'm sorry about that,” Logan apologized, knowing he was the one who'd crashed into Rick. “I only had seconds to get to Melissa.”

“It's okay,” Rick said, rolling his shoulder as if to check for pain.

“Can you run the film back and play it for us?” Melissa asked.

“Sure.” Rick pushed the buttons on the camera, reset the film, then put it on play mode and turned the small
screen toward them. The replay showed Melissa speaking, then began to blur. “This is when Logan pushed me,” he told them.

Logan muttered an oath when the screen showed distorted footage for the next minute, then it returned to normal. Rick rewound it and played it again for them.

“Stop it there.” Logan pointed to a blurred image moving into range in the direction of the podium. “That's our thief.”

“It's not much help,” Mark commented. “You can't even tell if it's a man or a woman.”

“Maybe you could if I put it on a video and you played it on a bigger screen,” Rick suggested.

Logan's gaze cut to him. “Good idea. Can you do that for us?”

“Sure, but I'll need access to some equipment.”

“Would they have the equipment you need at a television station here in Royal?” Mark asked. He and Logan shared a look.

Rick shrugged his shoulders. “Probably. I think we have an affiliate station here in Royal, WRYL. It'll take a few phone calls, but I can probably use their equipment once I get permission.”

“Don't worry about it. We'll arrange it,” Logan told him.

Rick raised his eyebrows. “You can do that?”

Mark reached for his cell phone. “Consider it done,” he said, then he left them.

“All right,” Rick said. “Let me know when I can go there. Until we leave, I'm going to shoot some more footage,” he told Melissa.

Melissa waited until Rick had walked away. “Let me get this straight. One phone call and we have access to a room full of technical equipment at a local television station?”

Logan studied her curious expression. “We have contacts.”

“Sheesh.” She blew out a breath. “Who else do you have contact with? The President?” she asked flippantly.

Grinning, Logan admitted, “We've chatted a time or two.”

T
hree hours later, Melissa and Logan were still at the museum. The area where the accident had occurred had been cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. Sheriff O'Neal had arrived on the scene quickly and Logan had left Melissa to talk with him. A short while later he'd returned and informed her the sheriff wanted her to wait until he'd cleared the museum of everyone else.

Logan and Mark had assisted the sheriff by talking with witnesses and taking notes until everyone had been interviewed. Melissa watched them work, impressed by their efficient handling of the crisis. She was seated on a folding chair that a museum employee had gotten for her when Logan and Sheriff O'Neal finally approached her. She stood and held out her hand in greet
ing. A handsome man, the sheriff's muscular body moved with authority and confidence.

“Melissa, I'm sorry to make you wait so long.”

“I understand.” She smiled, but inside her heart was beating harder and faster than normal. “Believe me, as a reporter I'm used it.”

Gavin flicked a glance around them. “Only a tornado could have caused more damage. You have my word we'll do a thorough investigation. I'd like to hear what happened from you. Though we're lucky to have your video, it may not have been focused on something that will help us solve the case.”

She shrugged. “I'll tell you what I can.” She recounted how she'd been taping her story when the ceiling fixture fell.

“Did you hear anything suspicious?”

“I heard a loud noise, like something breaking or ripping. I'm not sure which. After that, I heard it again, louder.” She looked up. The chandelier had left a jagged hole in the ceiling when it pulled free.

“Pretty much everyone else's story,” Logan commented. “Including mine.”

“Then what happened?” the sheriff asked.

She smiled at him. “Then I was hit by a two-hundred-pound man.”

Gavin smothered a grin when his gaze met Logan's. “What happened next?”

“I was on the floor, Logan on top of me. I didn't realize the fixture had fallen until I got up and looked around. Logan rescued me just in time. Do you have any idea of how this could have happened?”

“From what we can tell right now, the bolts holding the chandelier came loose and it fell.”

Though Gavin's expression remained composed, Melissa detected the underlying thread of anger in his tone. “So someone could have tampered with it?”

He shrugged. “It's one of the possibilities.”

She gave him a direct look. “Which means it wasn't an accident?”

He nodded.

Melissa thought about that. “So whoever was responsible, were they targeting me or were they after the map?”

“At this point I'm not sure.”

“Am I in danger?”

Shooting a look at Logan, Gavin raised his eyebrows. “Why do I feel like I'm the one being interviewed?”

Logan smiled wryly. “She's a reporter, remember?”

Melissa's instincts told her they were holding back information. “Something else is going on here. That the chandelier fell is strange enough, but then the map disappeared. This
accident
is tied into Jonathan Devlin's murder, isn't it?”

Folding his notebook, Gavin tucked it in his pocket. “That case is still under investigation. As to whether they're related, it's too soon to reach that conclusion. We're not ready to reveal any of our findings on Jonathan Devlin's murder to the press.”

She gave his comment consideration, then said, “I can appreciate that, Sheriff, but I'm obligated to report to my station what I've learned.”

He met her gaze. “Fair enough. How about if you
sit on this for a while and when it breaks, you get the exclusive?”

“All right,” she agreed, knowing in the end she'd get an even bigger story—one that would further boost her career. A nice finish to her reporting days before her leap to a desk assignment. “I'll keep it quiet for now.”

Gavin nodded. “Until we know more, be careful. Whoever did this could be trying to stop you from bringing attention to the map and alerting others that it could lead to a treasure. Even if it doesn't, the perpetrator may think it does and not want anyone to get in his way of finding it.”

They said goodbye and after the hectic day, Melissa was more than ready to leave. By the time she and Logan arrived at the ranch, exhaustion had hit her. Her nerves were shot and her muscles were sore and stiff. It had been easy to function right after the accident while her adrenaline was pumping, but once the excitement was over, her energy had disappeared. She leaned against Logan as they walked to the house together.

Norah met them at the door. “What happened? Someone called and said there was an accident at the museum.” She surveyed the two of them and noticed Melissa disheveled appearance and the cut on Logan's head.

“A chandelier fell near where Melissa was filming.”

“My goodness! Are you all right?” she asked Melissa.

“Yes, I'm just tired.”

“I'm taking her to my room to rest,” Logan told his housekeeper, not at all hesitant about letting her know that he and Melissa would be sharing his room.

“I'll be all right,” Melissa assured them. “Logan has a cut that needs attention. Do you have a first aid kit or something?”

“There's one in his bathroom.” She winked at Melissa. “Don't worry about Logan. He's hard-headed.”

“Thanks,” he replied dryly.

“You take care of her, Logan. I'll bring you both a pot of tea and something to eat.”

Logan took Melissa's hand and led her to his room. Shutting the door behind them, he dragged her against him, desperate to hold her, to taste her, to know she was truly safe.

Melissa pressed her body against Logan's, a shiver running through her as his mouth crashed down on hers. She hung onto him, her hands clutching at his shirt, her heart beating so hard she was sure he could feel it.

He lifted his head. “You risked your life to save me,” she whispered into his mouth as he continued to kiss her.

“Thank God I got to you, sweetheart.” Despite his gentle tone, anger still simmered inside him. Someone had tried to harm her. Someone evil. Whoever dared to hurt her would answer to him.

She leaned back and touched her hand to his forehead where the blood had dried around his gash. “I need a quick shower and we need to take care of this.”

“Shower with me,” Logan suggested huskily.

Smiling, she licked her lips. “Mm, I like the sound of that.”

Their quick shower turned into a lengthy one as they took turns washing each other, kissing and touching,
teasing each other until Melissa could barely stand, her body burning with desire.

After towel-drying her hair, she located the first aid kit under the vanity and set it on the counter. “Sit down,” she ordered Logan as she took out the hydrogen peroxide.

Logan's gaze dropped to her perfect breasts, her beaded nipples. “That can wait.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand away.

“Sit.”

He groaned. “You're awfully bossy for someone who owes me for saving her life.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your cut needs tending.”

“It's not that bad,” he protested. “It's not even bleeding.” Seeing she wasn't going to budge on the issue, he begrudgingly sat on the lid of the toilet.

Melissa smiled mischievously, then straddled his lap and sat on his thighs, her body pressed intimately against his engorged manhood. She kissed him. “You be good and let me take care of this and I'll pay you back.” Pouring some of the liquid on a gauze pad, she dabbed it on his cut.

Encircling her with his arms, he asked, “Yeah? How do you plan to do that?”

Shifting closer, Melissa grazed his chest with her breasts. “Oh, I'll think of something.”

He rolled his hips as his erection grew so hard that he hurt. Their intimate position was killing him. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to keep her beneath him all night long. “Hurry up. I can't take this much longer.”

Melissa smiled. “Just a minute.”

Logan gritted his teeth. “I'm only human, you little flirt.”

She laughed low in her throat as she dabbed his cut one last time. “I think you'll live.”

“I'm not so sure.” His hands cupped her head, dragged her mouth to his. His tongue delved past her teeth, exploring, tasting, demanding a response.

Twining her arms around his neck, Melissa kissed him back hungrily. His hands gripped her butt as he stood and carried her out of the bathroom. He stopped at the bed and Melissa slithered down his body until her feet found the floor.

A soft knock sounded at the door and she pulled away. “You'd better get that.”

He found a tray on the floor outside. He brought it inside, set it on the dresser, then turned toward Melissa. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Not for food,” she whispered as her gaze traveled boldly over his body.

Logan stared at her, half crazy with wanting her. She was beautiful and sexy and he had to stop himself from going over to her, tossing her on the bed and burying himself deep inside her.

Because he loved her.

He loved her fascinating green eyes, her determination, her strength in the face of danger. He loved looking at her, knowing that he alone could strip her clothing from her and touch her intimately.

Logan's throat went dry as she lay on the bed, then beckoned him with her sexy smile.

“Make love to me, Logan.”

He joined her, his mouth taking hers with fierce need. He wanted to make her his in every way—with his
mouth, his hands, his body. He wanted her to feel as desperate at the thought of leaving him as he did. He wanted to brand her his in every way possible so when she did leave she would know that no other man would make her feel what he could.

She arched against him as his hands explored her body, moaned as his mouth left hers and trailed kisses down her throat and shoulder to her breast. Sucking gently, he drew her nipple into his mouth, nibbled it with his teeth, savored her taste, her smell, her essence.

He looked at her as she writhed beneath him, watched her eyes glaze with passion as she bit her lower lip. And still he moved lower, kissing her belly, her thighs, between her legs.

Melissa's hips thrashed as Logan's tongue stroked her. Something had changed between them, something emotional and intimate and earth-shattering. The intensity of his lovemaking, of her response to him, took her breath away. Her heart swelled with love as he moved over her.

She welcomed him inside her, tightened her arms around him as he slowly entered her. Opening her legs, she arched upward, wanting more of him than he was giving her. But Logan took his time, filling her ever so slowly. Hot and hard, building on the fire he'd created within her, he teased them both as he withdrew then entered her again. When she thought she could no longer stand it, he answered her unspoken plea and stroked her body with his over and over until they crested the peak of desire together.

Feeling as though she'd never be normal again,
Melissa ran her hands over Logan's back, loving the feel of him on top of her, still inside her. Her heart shifted. She'd known becoming involved with Logan was dangerous, but she'd also known that she couldn't have stopped what was happening between them. And as much as it hurt to think about leaving one day soon, she couldn't regret loving him.

Had she ever stopped loving him?

Tears filled her eyes and she tried her best to stop them. Despite her valiant effort, they spilled down her temples and fell into her hair.

Logan lifted his head and looked at her, his expression one of concern. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she told him, hoping he'd believe her. She wasn't surprised when he didn't let the subject drop.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his tone serious and caring. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, I'm fine. Really. It's just…”

I love you.

Clamping her lips together, Melissa stopped herself from blurting out the words.

Logan studied her face, his heart pounding. “What, sweetheart?”

She couldn't tell him. Confessing that she was in love with him would only complicate everything between them. He didn't love her. And once she wrapped up the story, she'd leave. “I guess what happened earlier is finally hitting me.”

“It's over now.” He kissed her tenderly, then moved to her side and drew her into his arms. He didn't want to let her go. Ever. But he knew in his heart he would
have to. He'd asked her to stay once before and she hadn't.

Their circumstances were different now, but the end result would be the same. She lived in Houston. There was a big promotion waiting for her. He knew she had a future in broadcasting and that one day he'd turn on his television to see her anchoring for a major network. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he stood in her way.

All those years ago he'd been selfish, expecting her to stay in Royal because they were in love. He knew he no longer had the freedom, or the right, to ask that of her. She cared for him, he knew. He could tell by the way she touched him, kissed him.

But that wasn't love—at least not for her.

No, he couldn't ask her to give up everything she'd worked for to stay here. He toyed with the idea of going with her to live in Houston, but knew that would never work.

What would he do in a big city? How long would it be before his missing the hard work of ranching came between them? He was a rancher. Like so many ancestors before him, the dirt of the Wild Spur was in his blood. He'd feel useless anywhere else.

Hell, if he offered to move, would she reject him as she had years ago? No, going with her wasn't an option.

Melissa sighed. “I know. I'm just feeling emotional, I guess.”

“That's natural after something traumatic happens.”