The Black Sheep and the Princess (30 page)

“It is suspicious. I guess.” They walked on in silence for a few steps; then she said, “Did you find anything today in the cabin remains that backed up your new theory?”

“How the fire was set could be deemed suspicious. I was interested mostly in where it originated. The starting point would be set to cause maximum damage, or to make sure the spot of origin specifically burned, or both.”

Kate slowed. “And?”

“And I still think I'm on to something.”

“How do you know what to look for? You were a cop, not a fireman.”

“I've learned a few things since starting to work with Finn.”

“Oh, really?”

He smiled. “Oh, really.”

She didn't pursue that line of questioning, but he could tell from her contemplative expression that it was only going to be a matter of time. That was fine with him. He liked it that she was curious about him, that she'd want to know more. Oddly, he'd never once felt compelled to share the day-to-day parts of his life with anyone. In fact, while he'd been on the force, he'd been thankful there was no one waiting at home that he'd have to find a way around talking to. He'd never want to put someone he cared about through some of the gruesome or depressing realities of his job. Only now did he realize that when it was a true partnership, not only did she deserve to hear the truth of his life—after all, anything less was a sign of a lack of respect—but that, also, there might actually be some comfort in being able to share the lows as well as the highs. He'd never once looked at it that way. Now that seemed incredibly limiting to him. And kind of…lonely.

Of course, other than the occasional warehouse bomb, his life these days didn't involve the sorts of things he'd feel compelled to protect those he loved from knowing about. But that didn't mean his assignments weren't interesting. He'd actually enjoy sharing some of his Trinity exploits with her, seeing her reaction, hearing her take on some of the things they'd done, the people they'd helped.

Just as he wanted to know more about what it was, exactly, she did with the kids she was so determined to help. And if she'd ever thought about having any of her own someday.

Whoa. He had no idea where that had come from.

“Earth to Donovan,” she said, a half smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I asked you why the cause of the fire seemed suspicious?” She bumped shoulders again, and they paused as Bagel went off the path, investigating as far as his leash would allow him. “Where did your mind just go anyway?”

It was enough that he wanted to share stories with her he'd never shared with anyone other than those who'd been involved at the time. No way was he telling her about that last little mental detour. “Just that you might be surprised by some of the things we've done.” It was more truth than he'd intended to share.

“You'll have to tell me about them.”

His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that he saw the little shadow that crossed her face after she said it. They were so comfortable with each other, it was hard to imagine that in a short period of time, very short if his suspicions proved correct, they would be out of each other's lives. Possibly for good.

“But for now, I'll be happy with the story of what you found in the cabin that makes you think it was set to destroy rather than distract or deter me from staying.”

“There wasn't much left to look at, and I was limited in what I could do and stay consistent with the firemen's movements, but the point of origin appeared to be oddly placed. Center of the main floor. Not the corner, where it would climb walls, consume the ceiling, burn faster. And opposite the fireplace, flue is melted, but the lever is still closed. I need to look around a bit, check out some of the other cabins, see what else I can find.”

“You think they used more than that one? Should we be worried about more fires?”

We. He had to admit he liked how she thought of them as a team, so naturally, like that. “I don't know.” He saw the slight slump to her shoulders, squeezed her hand. “I wish I could be more reassuring.”

“What—what about my cabin?”

“I think they've done enough damage for one day. I'll go through the other cabins in the morning, then wait for the marshal, go through that ordeal, then we'll see what's what from that point. Possibly go into town, speak to Gilby again, depending on what we learn.”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.” She squeezed his hand back, but there was clear trepidation in her voice.

“We're close, Kate.” Close to finding out who was doing this. Which meant close to him leaving. He turned his mind back to the matter at hand. “Tell me, are all the cabins built on the same blueprint? I mean, the ones of that particular size?”

She shrugged. “Some are. I haven't been in all of them. Some of them aren't safe to go into. I need inspectors to help me go through them, but, as of yet, I can't get any help that way. I've spent most of my time up here researching funding and loans. Besides, you'd probably know more about that than I would, growing up here.”

He shook his head. “Never went in them.”

She sent him a surprised look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, in the summer, they were filled with paying guests, and in the off season, I had other things to do.” Namely staying anywhere but Winnimocca whenever he had the chance. It was the main reason he'd played sports in school. Anything to keep him from going home each day until he absolutely had to.

“But, even with Raphael and Finn here? I mean, I guess I thought you'd been in and out of their cabins every summer while they were here.”

He shook his head. “We hung out, but never in the cabins.” Cabins filled with a half dozen other campers, none of whom would have welcomed the local trailer trash into their midst. Not that he, Rafe, and Finn couldn't have held their own against them, he just had no motivation to do so. He'd had nothing to prove to those boys.

She didn't ask, but from her quiet expression, he figured she didn't need to. Anyone who'd spent five seconds in the camp back then had known he wasn't one of them.

“Even the girls' cabins?” she asked.

That surprised a laugh out of him. “No, not even the girls' cabins.” He'd had plenty of other places all scoped out when that was his mission. Staking his claim on them had been, in some ways, enough of a middle finger to the world at large, and the rich boys in particular. That they'd come to him willingly made it all the sweeter. He'd always treated the girls with respect, even as he was divesting them of their panties. It wasn't something he was particularly proud of now. But he wasn't going to beat himself up over it almost twenty years later either.

“But the way the girls talked, it sounded like—”

“I never went in their cabins.”

“Huh,” was all she said, making him continue to grin into the darkness.

She sounded almost a little…jealous. Or maybe possessive was the right word. It was silly, really, that he sort of liked that reaction from her, especially over something that happened so long ago as to be completely irrelevant. Still, he held her hand a little more snugly in his.

“So,” she said, at length, “now what do we do?”

“Now we finish walking the dog, and, seeing as my place is a bit charred at the moment, you could invite me back to your place, we spend the night in your bed together, then we get up and find whatever we need to prove my theory.”

“Where do we start?”

He stopped and turned toward her so she naturally stepped into the shelter of his body. She looked momentarily surprised, but she didn't move away. Yeah, he could definitely get used to that.

“What?” she asked.

“You wanted to know where I was going to start, and I seem to recall you saying something earlier about showing not telling. So I was going to show you.”

“I meant where do we start to look for proof.”

“Oh.” He stepped back. “Okay.” He went to turn, then smiled as she immediately tugged him back. “What?” he asked, parroting her.

“This…showing. I do believe in that. Strongly.”

He leaned down, almost brushing his mouth across hers. “Strongly?”

“Mmm hmm. Very.”

“Deeply?” He pressed a very soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

She moaned a little. “Repeatedly.” She lifted up on her toes. “Please.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “You know,” he began, dropping little kisses along her jaw, “I'm thinking the finding-proof thing can wait until morning. Late morning.”

“Late morning,” she agreed, sighing and letting her head drop back to afford him greater access.

“Ask me to come home with you, Kate,” he murmured against her neck.

She tightened her hold on him. “Let's go home, Donovan.”

His hold on her tightened almost convulsively. Home. A home with Kate. It sounded so good. It made him want to never search for proof, never find the answers, never conclude his only real reason for being here. It made him want things he couldn't have. Want them so badly he ached for it.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice almost gruff. “Let's go home.”

If he thought he could have managed it without his knee buckling, or getting them both tangled in the dog leash, he'd have swept her into his arms and carried her all the way back to the cabin, straight to bed. He'd never been a romantic before, but she made him want to make grand gestures, made him want to literally sweep her off her feet.

And maybe a part of him wanted to do whatever it took to keep them in this moment, this heady, almost euphoric, need-filled, anticipatory moment where nothing mattered but their want for each other. And all other talking would cease, talking that might lead to solutions, to him finishing the job and leaving, or worse, to him revealing how badly he wanted to stay.

As it happened, he didn't have to worry about that. Kate turned and tucked herself against his side, her arm snaking around his waist as she reached out and took the leash, gently tugging Bagel away from his rooting about. And they walked back to the cabin in comfortable, easy silence. If you didn't count the screaming sexual tension that always percolated between them. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and kept her close, their hips bumping as they strolled. Not racing, but not exactly indulging Bagel in any further explorations either.

The air was almost still now, and the smell of the burnt cabin lingered heavily. But the promise of tomorrow, of what they might find, and where that would lead, was something easily pushed away. For now. For now, he just wanted to focus on this moment, this walk, this woman. And Kate stayed in that moment with him, maybe, hopefully, wanting the same for herself.

When they got back to the cabin, they slipped out of their coats and boots. Then Mac unhooked Bagel from his leash, and Kate simply slipped her hand in his and took him to bed. It was different from the other times, gentler, more thoughtful, and yet familiar. Not just in the raging need he always had for her, but…it was Kate. She should feel new to him, a stranger, and yet he knew her, knew her in a way that went beyond carnal knowledge to some other place that defied rational thought or logic. He was utterly himself with her, in a way he'd never been with anyone else. No walls, no guarded moments, no worrying about where it might lead. It had already led.

Yes, she was known to him, in that soul-deep way where like recognized like, mate recognized mate. It should have terrified him, right down to his core. And, he supposed, if he let it, it would. But she was Kate. And she was his. And there was nothing terrifying in that; there was only joy. Life wasn't fair. He knew that better than anyone, both from personal endurance and intimate observation. There was never a promise of time, and anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.

He liked to think he was no fool.

Even if he could stay in this cabin forever, there were no guarantees on what he and Kate might have, or for how long. Plans could be made, but life, or fate, often had something else in mind. His time, their time, was now. He'd take the now, and worry about the later, later.

He brushed her hands aside and undressed her. If she had any inkling of what was going on in his mind, her expression didn't reveal it. Instead, she seemed much in the same place as he was, unhurried, enjoying the moment, wanting to, for once, not go at each other like starved animals. She tugged his shirt off, slowly slid off his pants. He pulled her close, liking how her bare skin felt pressed up against his own, suddenly in no hurry to toss her onto the bed.

He kissed along the side of her jaw, down along her neck, across her collarbone. She sighed, tipped her head back, and moaned softly as he indulged in a slow exploration that trailed around her breasts, with brief stops to pay particular attention to her nipples, before slipping lower. But when he reached her hipbone, she tugged him back up and began an exploration of her own.

“My turn,” she said softly, making him wish he had something to hold on to as she made his knees weaken with her own lingering trail of kisses. When she reached his hip, he tugged her down on the bed, but she pushed him onto his back and went right back to exploring. “Just let me,” she said, shooting him a quick smile, then returning to her mission at hand. Or at mouth, as the case may be.