Microsoft Word - DeadHeat_wrp356.doc (18 page)

pies. “Dessert anyone?”

Brett moaned and rubbed his stomach. “Millie, I

swear you're spoiling me. I might have to move in here

permanently.”

Jenna smiled. “None for me, Millie. I'm stuffed.”

“Me either,” Rye added. “At least not now. I might

sneak down later, though, to grab a piece.”

Jenna pushed back from the table and excused

herself.

Concerned at her paleness, Rye asked, “Going to bed

already?”

She nodded. “If you don't mind.”

“Of course not.” Rye turned to Brett. “Do you plan to

go through the storage boxes tonight?”

“I've no choice. I'll be up after I eat my pie.”

Rye stood. “I'll move them to your room.”

He followed Jenna out of the dining room and stayed

behind her, enjoying the sway of her rear as she climbed

the stairs.

“I'll help you,” Jenna said quietly once they entered

her room.

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“That's not necessary. Get ready for bed. I'll take care

of it.” She shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom.

Rye repacked the boxes and made two trips to Brett's

room before he found himself back in Jenna's. She was

still in the bathroom and he settled in the chair, telling

himself he just wanted to say good night.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped into the

room, eyes going wide when she saw him. “Is something

wrong?”

“Not at all. Just wanted to tell you we'll leave for the

track about four thirty in the morning. Millie will have

the coffee ready by four.”

The braid hanging down her back, coupled with the

large nightshirt, wasn’t what he'd call a sexy outfit. Then

why did he get instantly hard just looking at her?

Her fingers fidgeted with the bedspread. She took a

deep breath, straightened and met his gaze. “Are you still

lending me a car?”

Rye considered her question before he asked, “Am I

that bad of a driver?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Of course

not. I don't like depending on people. I miss my

independence.”

“I can understand that. But until your father and

Dimitri's murders are solved, you should forego your

independent streak.” He paused, gauging her reaction. “Is

it really so much to ask?”

The quiet in the room was deafening. The smell of

the soap she'd used floated through the air, stirring his

senses. He didn't recognize the scent. She must have

brought it from her apartment.

“No. You're right,” she said, her voice tinged with

defeat.

“Good.” Rye spoke brusquely and rose from the chair.

“Climb into bed. I'll get the light on my way out.”

“Rye?” Her voice drifted across to him in the

darkness.

He stopped in the doorway, his back to the room.

“Yes?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

A disappointed sigh escaped his mouth. What had he

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expected her to say?
Come lay down and make love to me
.

“You're welcome.” The door clicked when he shut it.

An hour later he paced the floor, unable to relax

enough to fall asleep. Twice he started for Brett's room,

but looking through Joe Green's files would only wind him

up all the more. He wanted his life to return to normal.

A spattering of rain against the windowpane

announced the arrival of a spring storm. Dragging a chair

to the window, he sat watching tree branches sway in the

wind. Thunder rolled through the valley and shook the

windows.

The lights flickered once, then again. The third time

the room went dark. A loud thump came from Jenna's

room. What the hell? He moved through the darkness to

the nightstand and opened the drawer, his fingers

searching for the flashlight he kept there for emergencies

such as this.

The instant he stepped into the hall, he encountered

Brett. “You don't have a backup generator?” Brett asked.

“Not in the house. Only in the stables and barn.

There should be a flashlight in your nightstand. I'm going

to check on Jenna.”

Rye slipped into Jenna's room before Brett could

comment. Rye angled the beam of light to the bed. Empty!

His heart flip-flopped.

Fear crawled across his skin as he swept the room

with the light. He found her on the floor by the bed,

picking up pieces of a broken lamp.

She raised her hand to her eyes. “Hey. Don't shine

that in my face.”

His thumb pushed the off switch, plunging the room

into darkness. “Sorry. I heard a thud and wanted to make

sure you were okay.”

“I reached over to turn the lamp on and knocked it on

the floor. Did the storm knock out the power?”

Rye turned on the flashlight again, set it on the

nightstand for illumination and hunkered down on the

floor to help her. “Yeah. Right when I heard the lamp

fall.” Their hands touched as they reached for the same

broken piece. “You're bleeding.”

She brushed his hand away like it was an irritating

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fly. “It's nothing. Just a scratch.”

He grabbed her arm and wouldn't let go. The cut

wasn't deep. Jenna was right. It was more of a scratch,

but the skin had been broken and might get infected. “It

needs to be cleaned. I'm not taking no for an answer. Sit

on the bed. And watch where you step.”

Once she was settled, Rye held her hand under the

light. “Well, it's not life-threatening,” he chuckled as he

met her gaze. “Stay right here. I'll get some antiseptic.”

Rye was surprised to find her still sitting on the bed.

He'd grown accustomed to her following the beat of her

own drum.

The mattress lowered when he sat next to her. Heat

seeped from her thigh to his. Excitement raced through

his veins. It took all his concentration to keep his fingers

from trembling as he cleaned and bandaged her hand.

“There,” he announced. “Good as new.”

She tugged on the hem of her nightshirt, dragging it

down almost to her knees. “Thanks.”

Outside, the wind howled. Branches rubbed together,

reminding him of the rattle of dry bones. Jenna shivered.

Instinct told him to share his warmth. Common sense told

him to get the hell out of her room. Kneeling, he

continued to pick up what was left of the lamp.

Once he had all the pieces in the wastebasket, he

wiped his hands on his jeans and picked up a candle. “I

found this in the bathroom.” He took a book of matches

from the drawer and lit the wick. A citrus scent wafted in

the air. “That should give you enough light. I'll see you in

the morning.” Without looking at her again, he pivoted to

leave.

Her soft voice floated toward him from the shadows

of the flickering flame. “Please don't go.”

He paused, keeping his back to her. The moan of the

wind and the tick of the alarm clock were the only noises

in the room. He forced his facial muscles to relax before he

turned. He wanted to go to her, but his legs wouldn’t

cooperate. It was as if they were stuck in cement. “What

is it? What do you want?”

No words were needed. In the shadows of the lit

candle, her eyes answered his question.

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The muscles in Rye's face grew taut. “Are you sure?”

Jenna sensed he wouldn't take the initiative. The

next move needed to be hers. “Yes.” She hated that her

voice quavered. Life was too short. Deep inside, Jenna

knew that making love with this man would be a

treasured memory when she grew old.

Still, he hesitated. “What exactly do you want?”

The air sizzled with electricity, not even remotely

connected to the storm outside. “You. I want you.” A sense

of horror flooded her. Had she just told Rye Cameron that

she wanted him?
God, Scotty, beam me up
.

Swallowing the heart that had jumped to her throat,

she watched Rye move toward her, one slow step at a

time.

Once they stood toe to toe, he stopped. Jenna thought

his eyes searched for her soul. His hand lifted the weight

of her hair and curved behind her neck.

Jenna slid her arms around his neck. Would kissing

him again be as good as her memories of the time they’d

kissed in her apartment?

Her fingers threaded through his hair, and she rose

on her toes, brushing his mouth with her lips.

The kiss lasted for long minutes. Now she knew. It

was perfect. Their ragged breathing drowned out the

ticking clock. She broke away to bury her face in the crook

of his neck. His tongue traced the outside shell of her ear.

His knee pushed between her legs, enabling her to

rub her pelvis against his erection. “You feel so good, Rye.

I need to have you inside me.” Jenna ran her hands over

his jean clad thighs.

He groaned, sliding his hands down her back to cup

her bottom. He rotated her hips sensually against him

several times. The moan that escaped her mouth

competed with the noise of the wind outside.

Jenna felt a climax about to spike. Suddenly, he

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pushed her away and walked forward, pushing her

backwards. Her legs hit the bed and she sat abruptly,

then lay back, dragging him down with her.

Quickly, she raised her long legs, wrapped them

around his waist and crossed her ankles, anchoring him

against her. Then she sought his mouth.

He broke the contact and whispered, “God, you're so

warm, so willing.” Their breaths mingled.

Jenna was desperate not to lose contact with this

man. “I want you. Now.”

He stilled. The kisses stopped. His hands still cradled

her head, but his fingers ceased to work their magic.

“Rye?” She placed her hands on either side of his

face. “Look at me. What's wrong? What did I do?”

He turned his face into her neck. “Nothing. It's me. I

don't want to hurt you, Jenna.”

Those words were the last she'd expected or wanted

to hear right now. Making the decision to have sex with a

man who’d told her up front that's all it would ever be,

was difficult enough. Jenna didn't want Rye to all of a

sudden turn into a Good Samaritan.

“You won't.”

He rolled off to the right to lie on his back. Although

his breathing remained ragged, she knew he'd reined in

his emotions. “You must have heard stories about me.”

Damn him. She didn't want to go there. Not here. Not

now. “I have. People talk, and I don't live in a vacuum.”

“They're all true. The stories. I’m not known for being

nice to women.”

She laughed and playfully punched him in the ribs.

“Come on. I can handle old Mr. Love 'em and Leave 'em

Cameron.”

With one quick twist, he was on his side, facing her.

“It's no joke, Jenna. I don't want anything permanent

with a woman. A few times in bed, and I move on.”

Jenna couldn't read the expression on his face, but

she heard the sadness in his voice. Rye Cameron didn't

care for who he was.

The time for decision was now. Either accept what he

offered, a few rounds of lovemaking, or thank him for his

honesty and tell him she wasn't interested.

The throbbing in her body convinced her to seize the

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moment and to hell with tomorrow. The wisdom she'd

acquired during her life said ‘jump out of bed and run’.

Right or wrong, her heart made the decision. If she didn't

make love with Rye, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

She trailed her fingers down his cheek. “I appreciate

your honesty, but I'll worry about myself. I'm a big girl.

You've warned me. If I get hurt, it'll be no fault of yours.”

“As much as I want you, Jenna, I don't want to lose

your friendship. And I'm afraid that's what'll happen.” A

smile twisted his mouth. “Not to mention losing my best

trainer.”

She frowned. “A few days ago, you couldn't wait to

jump into bed with me. What's changed since then?”

He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed a hand across

his eyes. “Nothing. Everything.”

No way, no how had she come this far to let Rye walk

out of her bedroom. Jenna slipped off the bed. Without

taking her eyes off him, she whisked off her nightshirt.

“Sounds to me like you're trying to slither through

loopholes, Mr. Cameron.”

Before he could utter any protests, she knelt on the

bed, leaned over and unbuttoned his shirt, easing the

material away from his skin. She kissed her way from his

chest to the top of his pants. His stomach clenched, giving

Jenna a nice feel of muscular ridges. The smell of his

shower lingered on his skin.

Snuggling between his legs, she unbuckled his belt,

unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper. A quick look

showed her his eyes were closed. She eased his jeans

down his legs and off his feet. Oh God! The man didn't

wear underwear. She returned to her spot between his

legs. His body jerked when her tongue licked his erection.

“Jesus, Jenna.”