Mountain Fire (20 page)

“Doesn’t that feel good?” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Dear lord,” he ground out. “Too good.”

Anxiety transformed to mischievousness. “I like it, too.” She rubbed him again, and he growled deep in his throat.

His legs were on the verge of collapse. If she kept touching him he was going to lose all sense of restraint. He reached down with both hands to cup her breasts, then eased himself from her hold and knelt in front of her. Toying with one nipple with his fingers, he tantalized the other with his tongue and was rewarded with whimpers of pleasure.

She seemed to liquify under his hands, his mouth, and flowed backward until she was lying on the bed. He followed her, licking, sucking. Sensations blended together in a heady swirl of lust and love. He slid into her wet and ready warmth. Only then did he allow himself to let go, to bury himself in her over and over again. She wrapped her legs around him and surrounded him, enfolded him. Arching passionately against him, she tightened. He thrust one last time.

They lay together, trembling, panting with exertion. He reveled in the long length of her pressed against him, the softness of her breasts brushing his chest as they breathed, the strong muscles of her thighs, the slenderness of her waist.

“Can you hear my heart?” she whispered. “I think it’s beating out of my chest.”

It came to him then, and the knowledge was so right, so perfect, it brought a tranquility he had never known. “I love you.” He marveled at how easy it was to say. His fingers cupped her breast absently, his eyes locked on hers.

She lay motionless, searching his face. He waited. She remained silent. His sensation of peace dimmed. “Did you hear me? I love you, June.”

“You love me?” she asked.

“I think I’ve been denying it to myself for days. But today, when I found you on the mountain...I couldn’t pretend anymore.” His hands cradled her face. For the second time that day he prayed.
Please, God. Please let her love me back.

Deep in her eyes a light glimmered. This time when she spoke he heard the joy, the anticipation. “You love me?”

“I do.” One corner of his mouth quirked self-consciously. “I never believed I’d say that to anyone. But then I met you, and I’ve never known anyone like you before. I don’t think I could live without you. The idea of not having you in my life makes me crazy.”

“You’re not having a reaction to all the excitement, are you?”

This time he gave her a full on grin. “I’m positive. Want me to say it again?” She nodded. “I love you.”

She lifted her hand, cupping the hard edge of his jaw. “Damn right you do. And guess what? I love you, too.”

Elation burst inside him. He drank in the exultant gleam in her eyes, rejoiced in the gleeful curve of her lips, a mirror to his own. He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her on top of him, hugging her fiercely. “Say it again,” he said, hoarse with emotion. “Tell me again.”

A carefree giggle bubbled out of her throat. “I love you.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you.” And his other cheek. “I love you.” And when her lips met his, he found home.

****

June’s first view when she opened her eyes the next morning was Alex, lying on his back on top of the bed covers, arms crossed over his chest. Stubble shadowed his strong jaw, and despite sleeping soundly at the moment, dark bruises under his eyes attested to a disturbed night. She had vague memories of him throughout the wee hours, waking her to ask simple questions, watching for the dangerous symptoms of concussion, each time allowing her to slip back into a healing sleep.

Scrapes and bruises tugged at her, and her knee was slightly swollen, but the headache had almost disappeared. Carefully she slipped out of the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for any sign of light-headedness or nausea. When all seemed well, she limped out of the room, shrugging into her robe on her way to the kitchen.

The display on the coffee machine told her it was barely nine o’clock. While the liquid dripped into the pot, dispersing delicious curls of caffeine-laden scent into the air, she puttered around the room, putting away the dishes Alex had washed the night before.

She filled two mugs and headed back to the bedroom. He lay as she had left him. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he still did not stir. The knowledge that he loved her was so big, so new, she could hardly believe it. She stroked her mouth against his. His eyes opened, dark and drowsy.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was gruff. He cleared his throat, then gave her a hopeful look. “Is that coffee?” He shifted to rest against the headboard and gratefully took the mug she handed him.

She hugged her own cup with both hands, enjoying the heat seeping through the porcelain. “I feel almost one hundred percent, thanks to you.”

“Anytime.” He studied her over the lip of his mug. “How’s the headache?”

“Hanging on, but not bad. Much better, in fact.” Unaccountably, she felt shy, wondering how to bring up the subject she most wanted to talk about.

“I didn’t dream last night, did I?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Dream what?”

“That you told me you loved me?”

Relief surged through her. She smacked his knee. “I’ve wanted to tell you for days. I was waiting for you to see the light. Too bad it took a near death experience—mine—before you did.”

The glow in his eyes set up a throbbing in her veins. “I love you, June. And I’ve never been happier about anything in my life.”

They sat, smiling idiotically at each other. She blew on her coffee, took a sip. “So, what happens now?”

He sputtered into his mug. “What, about us? Can’t a guy have a few months to get used to the idea?”

She stared blankly at him, then the penny dropped. Her snicker rolled into a howl of mirth. She laughed until her sides ached, until tears rolled down her cheeks. He was forced to rescue her tilting coffee cup.

“Today,” she hiccoughed. “I meant what happens today. Oh, God. You should have seen your face.”

He gave her hair a quick yank. “All right, that’s enough out of you. If that’s the case, what happens now is that you have breakfast, and get more rest.”

She wiped the last of her tears on the bed sheet. “What about Richard and Schwarz-Silber? Did you hear anything last night after I fell asleep?”

“Samantha brought back your truck. The keys are in the kitchen.”

“Good. What else?” His expression betrayed his urge to dodge her questions, to hide knowledge from her. “Tell me, Alex.”

“Detective George called,” he said reluctantly.

“Who’s that?”

“The younger of the two investigators into Iain Prevost’s murder. You met him at my office the day you brought the note.”

She curled her legs under her and sat cross-legged on the bed. Her knee complained but the stretch felt good. “What did he say?”

“They haven’t found any sign of the helicopter, Fleetham or Schwarz-Silber.” His eyes drifted down and she realized her robe gaped open slightly. She covered herself and he took a gulp of hot coffee, wincing.

She huffed out a breath. “So now what? What do we do?”

“Detective George wants us to go into the detachment today so you can give your report directly. Then we come home. And we wait.”

“Wait!” There must be something they could do, she thought in disgust.

He clasped her hand. “We wait. The RCMP has it under control. We could do more harm than good if we go off on our own. You have to trust them to do their job.”

She firmed her lips. “Fine. I’ll get dressed and we’ll go in.” She put her coffee down with a thump and stomped off down the hall.

Chapter Seventeen

Alex and June were leaving the RCMP detachment when her cell phone rang. Tabitha Scala’s voice bounced enthusiastically out of the speaker.

“June, I wasn’t sure I’d get a hold of you. I thought you were going camping.”

“I did go out of town for a couple of days, but my trip was...cut short.”

“Isn’t that totally lucky. For me, I mean.” Tabitha’s laughter trilled. “I’m having a bit of a soiree tonight, and I’d love it if you could come.”

Alex lifted an enquiring eyebrow, and she motioned for him to continue out of the parking lot. Their next stop was her parents’ home. June hadn’t wanted to worry them since everything had turned out fine, but Alex had insisted. Even though she hadn’t mentioned Fleetham and Schwarz-Silber at all, because she wasn’t sure what the RCMP would like kept confidential, and had glossed over the grizzly attack, Monica and Karl had insisted she come out so they could see for themselves she was okay.

“Tabitha, I’m sorry. But I don’t think I’m up to it. I came back into town early because I wasn’t...wasn’t feeling well.” She ignored a quiet snort from the driver’s seat. “I really need an early night.”

“Don’t say that. It’s a party in honour of Richard. He’s been nominated for an award...”

She let Tabitha continue, but covered up the mouthpiece and said, “Tabitha Scala. I think I’ve mentioned her before. One of Richard’s groupies.” He nodded. “She says she’s having a party tonight because Richard’s getting an award.”

Alex’s eyebrows drew together. “And he’s going to be there?”

June couldn’t imagine him waltzing casually into a party, but she broke into Tabitha’s excited chatter to ask.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but he says he probably won’t be able to make it.” The other woman’s disappointment was evident.

“When did you talk to him? Did he say where he was?”

“I spoke to him day before yesterday. He said he might have to go out of town, but that I should have the party anyway, because the award is really a celebration of everyone in RiverForce. You have to come, June.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please say you will. Everyone else will be there, they promised me.”

The wistfulness in the other woman’s voice had June weakening. “Well...”

“Oh,” squealed Tabitha, “You will! Seven o’clock tonight, my place. And bring a friend if you want. I know, bring your game warden fellow.”

“Conservation officer, and I’ll see. He might not be available.” She tapped off her phone.

They left the busy downtown streets and headed out on the highway. “Does she really think Fleetham’s going to be there?” Alex asked.

June filled him in on the whole conversation. “I have such trouble telling her no. She’s like a leftover from the sixties, and she talks like a twelve-year-old girl half the time, but I like her. I figure I’ll go for an hour or so, then plead a headache.” Traces of pain flickered occasionally inside her head, and she was sure by later tonight she wouldn’t be telling a complete lie.

“I’m coming with you. It sounded like I was invited.” He took the turn into the Brandt’s driveway.

“You are, but honestly, you don’t have to.”

“I’m coming, June.” He parked next to the garage. “Until Fleetham and Schwarz-Silber are found, I’m not leaving you alone.” Determination jutted in the set of his jaw and resolve gleamed in his eye.

She skimmed the tips of her fingers over his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that. Thank you. Now, let’s go show Mom and Dad I still have all my limbs.”

****

“You really didn’t have to come.”

The early evening shimmered with light as they headed north. Tabitha lived a half hour or so out of town, in a rural area of small farms and large residential lots dotted with all manner of homes, from custom built dwellings to double wide trailers.

“I know.”

“If you had stayed home I’d have an excuse other than a headache to get away. I could say I had to meet you.”

Alex glared at her, exasperated. “Do you have a headache now? Because I’m beginning to get one.”

June frowned. “I’m still planning on faking one about an hour after we arrive. I wish I hadn’t agreed to come. Turn right at Salmon Valley.”

They crossed a blue metal bridge and exited the main highway, merging onto a narrow two lane road. It curved and cornered, following the twists of the modest river flowing next to it. A few minutes later she steered him to the driveway of a small house with staid white siding offset by vibrant purple shutters and trim. Tabitha’s ancient VW bug was parked next to a barn with a weathered shingle roof and grey walls. The pebbly river sparkled beyond a screen of towering cottonwoods.

“You’ve been here before?”

They stepped out of the Jeep, June carrying a bottle of wine she’d brought as a hostess gift. “Tabitha had a barbeque a year or so ago for the RiverForce crew. It wasn’t long after Richard arrived at the university, actually. We had a great time.” Alex opened the low gate in the white board fence separating the drive from the front garden, and they walked up the slate path. “I don’t imagine she’ll have another this year,” she added gloomily.

Alex knocked on the door, also vividly plum. It opened immediately.

Tabitha wore jeans instead of her normal caftan and leggings. A fuchsia tunic, clashing with both the door and her own red hair, draped her to mid-thigh. It was belted around her thin waist with twisted strands of bright yellow cord.

“June! And your game warden! Come in, come in!” She ushered them into a tiny entryway and closed the door behind them.

It bothered June that Tabitha couldn’t get Alex’s designation right. “It’s conservation officer, not game warden. They haven’t been called game wardens for fifty years.” She held out the bottle of wine. “I brought this for you.”

“How sweet! Hold on to it and come through with me. We’ll put it in the kitchen. You’re the first to arrive.”