Obsidian (18 page)

Jamie slipped off his shoulder holster and set it on a side table before peeling off his own wet shirt and spreading it out onto the flagstone surround of the fireplace. Shelby continued to stare into the fire. Uncontrollable tremors racked her body, jolting her beneath the thin sheet. He needed to get her warmed up.

Grabbing the arms of the chair, he dragged it closer to the fire. She looked up at him and blinked.

“Thank you.” Her words were enough to reassure him, but he still needed to convince himself that she was going to be okay. The sooner he got her dry and warm, the faster she’d be able to handle whatever was ahead of them.

She protested as he pulled the sheet off of her. He pulled her to her feet in front of the fire and wrapped an arm around her to keep her steady. He lifted the wet fabric of her shirt free from her jeans and over her head, throwing it down onto the hearth next to his own. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, as he tried to bring the warmth back to her body. She shook as the cold air touched her wet skin. The thin fabric of her bra was transparent and flimsy against the effects of the cold. She fought against his hands.

“What are you doing?” Her angry words came out as a strangled gasp as he pulled her closer against him and set to work one-handed on the button of her jeans.

“I’m trying to warm you up.” Under better circumstances the sight of Shelby standing before him, clad only in a lacy bra the color of cotton candy would have him thinking of hot summer afternoons spent beneath cool sheets. Her half-undone jeans caused enough heat in him to fill the old house. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Right now, he needed to focus, damn it. He needed to get her dried off and warm and safe, not seduce her.

“Don’t.” The words were growled between her chattering teeth. He worked harder on the zipper of her jeans. Her cold palms pressed against his chest. Her fingers splayed against him and he willed his body not to react. Now was not the time to indulge in fantasies, no matter who inspired them.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Shelby, but if I don’t get you out of these wet clothes you’re going to end up sick. I don’t want you to get sick. It’s nothing personal.” But it was fast becoming personal to him. It was hard to ignore the attraction coursing through him when he was near her.

He pried down the rest of her zipper and moved to slide the pants down, her legs were pale and translucent in the firelight. Only a scrap of pale blue lace covered the rounded curve of her bottom and her delicate womanly V. The high rounded legs and low waist fit Shelby like the molded leather seat in a fine Italian sports car.

Now was not the time, he reminded himself again.

“Thank you.” She was chattering less now. The involuntary shudders had lessened. He sat her down in front of the fire and wrapped the sheet around her again. She closed her eyes as the heat of the fire seeped into her.

“I don’t think I have ever been so cold.”

He grabbed another sheet off a nearby chair and shook the dust from it before using the edge to rub her wet hair. She pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them, keeping her back to the fire and Jamie.

Her shivering lessened until it was just an occasional quiver. She opened her eyes. Gone was the wide-eyed look of fear. She gave him a weak smile. “You must be frozen.”

Jamie shrugged and continued to use the cloth on her hair. He was hot enough sitting next to her. She was having a warming effect on his senses. “Cold doesn’t bother me too much. I spent some time in Alaska a couple of years ago, so being in Maine during a hurricane is nothing.”

The sound of the crackling fire helped to muffle the roar of the elements outside as Shelby stared out at the blackness beyond the windows.

How had she ended up here? How could she have gotten to his point? Her brain was still fuzzy from the numbing wet cold, but a few things still registered. Her brother had disappeared, Marianne was dead and someone was now after them. How had her life gotten to this point?

She was a simple woman who’d lost her husband and had still managed to eke out a life for herself. She was happy running a family business and living in the house she’d grown up in. She was happy with her life. So why was it that once again fate had chosen to throw a monkey wrench into her mild mannered life?

Jamie got up from his place near the fire and opened a cabinet near the window, rummaging through in a search for something.

“Are you sure the owners won’t mind us being here?”

“They won’t mind.” His response was muffled as he dug further into the far corner of the cabinet. “Aha! I knew there had to be one in here somewhere.” He pulled out a flashlight and tested the switch.

“It’s not the greatest, but it should be enough to help.” He strode back toward her with the flashlight in hand.

The light of the fireplace flicker across his chest. It was the first time she’d seen him without a shirt on. The orange and yellow flames deepened the dark lines of his body. A trail of coarse dark hair trailed down in a narrow line before disappearing below the waistband of his jeans.

“We should be safe enough here. This place belongs to my family.”

Her gaze shot back to his face. “I thought you said you were from New Orleans?”

“This is our summer home. It’s been in the family for over a hundred years. My great-grandfather built it for his wife as a way to escape the heat of New Orleans summers.” He scooted down next to her, flashlight in hand. His smile was the same, masking one he’d given her before.

“My parents used to come every summer until my father got sick.”

He laid a hand against her cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your fingers and toes aren’t hurting are they?” He reached for the fingers she curled around the edge of the sheet. Her skin
tingled as he ran his hands over hers, holding them up to the light of the fire. “They look fine.”

His touch burned her skin
.
She pulled from his grasp and clasped the blanket tighter around herself.

“I’m fine, really.”

He looked at her for a moment. His gaze driving into her as though trying to discover what was beneath her skin. With his hair slicked back and the light of the fire behind him, the whitened ridge of the scar above his eye was more pronounced. She put a finger up tracing the length of it before he reached out, stilling her action.

“How did you get the scar. It can’t be that old.”

Jamie pulled away at her words, not physically, but mentally. Gone was the intent introspective gleam. She’d gone too far. She’d crossed an invisible line he’d drawn for himself and back again was the protective wall of anonymity.

He let out a small laugh. “You could say that I’m a real klutz. I fell down and gashed it open. It was nothing.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jamie got up and held out a hand to her, pulling her to her feet. She pulled the drop cloth tighter around her, the length pooling around her feet. She put a hand up to her hair. It was drying from the heat of the fire, but she didn’t need a mirror to tell her that it must be sticking out all over.

“You look beautiful.” He laughed at her self-conscious gesture. “Only a woman would be concerned about how she looked after what we’ve been through tonight.” His words were meant to be a joke, but the reality was that someone was after them and that was enough to put some of the chill back into the air for her. She hugged the sheet tighter around her.

“You think I look beautiful?” She couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of her. It had been a long, long time since someone had given her a compliment.

His gaze was intense and his jaw set, when he responded. “Yes, I do.” It appeared to be a struggle for him. But why she didn’t know. Maybe he was fighting this attraction between them for a good reason. Maybe he had a girlfriend or a wife somewhere. For all she knew, he was just humoring her to keep her from going into shock.

He steered her in the direction of the stairs with a gentle hand at the base of her back. The warmth of his touch burned her skin through the fabric of the sheet, warming her inside. With one simple touch he’d managed to make her feel safer than she had in a very long time. She stepped onto the bottom step and faced him. She wanted to say thank you, but she wasn’t quite sure how she could ever thank him for what he was doing for her. Her words stilled on her lips. The height of the step had brought her gaze level with his. Stormy intensity radiated from his eyes as he stared back at her. The light from the fire increased
their brilliance.

Her gaze shifted downward to his lips. The soft sensuous curve of his lips was set in a grim, tight line. She wanted to kiss him. Maybe it was all they had been through, or maybe she’d just been alone too long. But just this once she wanted to take a chance.

She closed the intimate distance between them; her eyes drifting shut as she brushed her mouth soft against his closed lips.

He stayed still for a moment and she was suddenly afraid that she’d misread the attraction. But a low sound erupted in his chest and traveled upward. His hands came up to frame her face, his fingers cupping her jaw.

His mouth settled against hers as he gently kisses the outline of her lips. His butterfly soft touches made her melt against him and he growled again as her hands moved down his body, encircling his waist and settling against the bare sensitive skin edging the waistband of his jeans.

She opened her mouth to his, welcoming him as she pulled him even closer. His hands settled softly against her upper arms. His grip was firm, but gentle, soft, but possessive.

Her body reacted through the thin fabric of the sheet and her bra. She wanted to touch him and she wanted him to touch her.

Their tongues met, dancing, mating, matching and powerful. She responded, her body giving as good as she received.

And then suddenly he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. She kept her eyes closed, unwilling and unable to stop the surge of power coursing through her. She felt wanton, and needed, and alive.

“Wow.” Her words came out as a harsh whisper. She pulled back and dared to open her eyes. His expression was dark, soft and teasing. He smiled just a little and this time it went all the way to his eyes.

“Wow is right.” His own voice was unsteady and raspy as he fingered the line of her jaw before dropping his hands to her waist.

“You’re a dangerous lady.” His words served to bring back the seriousness of their situation. For one endless minute they’d forgotten the hellish ride, the rain, her brother’s disappearance and Marianne.

“I’m going to take the flashlight and see if I can get the old generator in the shed going. I know it’s dark, but if you go up the stairs you should be able to find some clothes to warm you up.”

His finger came up to trace the edge of the sheet where it slid from her shoulder. “Not that I don’t like this look on you, but I think you might be more comfortable in something dry.” The teasing sound was back in his voice and she smiled a little.

“I don’t think that this is the latest in fashion. Maybe something else would be better.” His eyes were darker than the storm outside. He was a man with too many mysteries. The biggest mystery was the man, himself. On the outside, he alternated between casual, languid confidence and masking indifference. But she suspected that there was much more to Jamie Rivard’s true self.

On impulse, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. She needed to touch him one last time to reassure herself that what had happened, really had happened. Jamie turned, bending toward her touch. The man was not quite as indifferent as he’d like to appear. Tonight, he’d become her protector, her knight in shining armor racing to save her

His voice was soft and low and close in her ear. “Try the room at the top of the stairs. It’s my parents’ room. There should be some clothes in there that will fit you.” He turned her back toward the stairs and gave her another gentle to guide her. She could feel the heat of his gaze following her up and into the darkness.

Jamie watched the gentle sway of her backside as she stepped barefoot up the stairs and into the darkness beyond. The way that woman walked should be a crime and the most sensual part about it was that he was sure she didn’t have a clue how just watching her walk could make him hot.

He headed away from Shelby and the direction of his thoughts, making his way toward the kitchen shed and the old generator. He should have given her the flashlight, but it was needed it to see his way to fixing the old machine. With a little luck, they’d have power before long and then they could focus on figuring out what their next step would be.

The old shed’s walls were paper-thin to the outside and the storm sounded much louder and closer than it had before.

Jamie picked his way around the piles of discarded tools and equipment to where the generator sat. Pulling the tarp off, he eyed the old machinery. It hadn’t been used in the ten years since the family had last come to Ledgeview. There hadn’t been any need for it since that summer when it had all happened.

He pushed the invading thoughts from his mind, not ready or unwilling to face the past. Now was not the time. But once again fate was playing a hand in bringing him back to Ledgeview. He’d fully intended to never come here again, but with those men on their tails they’d needed someplace safe to stay and there wasn’t any safer place than here.