Woman On the Run (31 page)

Then a freak storm in Lexington had delayed his flight out until Sunday morning. Cooper spent the day grimly battling his way across the country from airport to airport with only one thought in mind—getting back home and getting back to Sally.

He’d missed her fiercely. The nights had been the worst part. He’d spent every night with an iron hard-on thinking of her, wishing with every cell of his being that he was back in bed with her.

Bernie had kept him informed via e-mail about what was going on in Simpson. How Sally was helping Alice redecorate the diner and how Sally, Alice, Chuck, Matt, Glenn and Maisie were working on the diner over the weekend. Cooper had e-mailed back, directing Bernie and as many of the men who could be spared to give a hand. He’d ordered all the old horse troughs to be taken out, cleaned with steam hoses, sanded and brought to the diner.

But he’d been champing at the bit the whole time, frustrated that he wasn’t there to help. Frustrated that he wasn’t with Sally.

Cooper finally made it to the ranch by five in the afternoon, quickly showered and changed into work clothes. He broke the speed limit into Simpson. It didn’t matter because there wasn’t anyone around to arrest him. Chuck was at the diner.

It was after six by the time he walked into Carly’s.

And there she was.

Cooper’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tall stepladder in the corner. Sally was precariously perched on the top rung, arms outstretched to reach the top corner. She was doing something complicated with a roller. Cooper couldn’t tell what, but the effect sure was pretty. The walls looked mottled, pale blue and white, like the inside of a robin’s egg. Around the top of the wall near the ceiling was a pretty light green leaf stenciling. If it had been explained to him in words, he wouldn’t have understood it. But it was very attractive.

Sally had haunted his thoughts and even his dreams while he was in Kentucky and it wasn’t just sexual obsession. Whatever it was, it was real because his heart picked up speed when he saw her. She was dressed in work clothes—faded jeans and an old shirt, but they couldn’t disguise the slender, elegant lines of her body. He wanted her with ferocious intensity, but there was more to it than that.

He was a horse breeder and he knew all about the sexual pull the female has on the male of any species, horse or human. It had been over two years since he’d felt the pull, but it was as strong as any he’d seen in his stallions. So it was sex, sure, but also something more. Much more.

He wanted to fuck her, but it went further than that. He wanted her around, all the time. He wanted to tell her about his week. He wanted her to redecorate his house—hell, redecorate his
life
—like she was redecorating Alice’s diner.

Something about the atmosphere in the diner was already different. The sad air of despair was gone. It was a miracle. The dusty old diner that he’d known for as long as he could remember was gone forever.

And good riddance. He could hardly count the number of heartburns he’d had thanks to Carly and Alice. And if Maisie Kellogg was handling the cooking end of it, they’d all be fine and not risk ptomaine poisoning.

Alice was flitting about like a hummingbird, looking focused and happy. Chuck was busily hammering nails into a two by four held by a serious-looking Matt. Loren and Beth were wiping plates. Cooper was satisfied to see that Bernie and his men were being useful. Rafael and Fred were scampering around happily, getting in everyone’s way.

Glenn and Maisie were there, too, Maisie dressed in her cleaning clothes with a red bandanna around her hair. They all looked transformed and energized. Alice, Chuck, Matt, Glenn, Maisie. Even Bernie and Rafael were looking happier than two weeks before.

And all because of Sally.

Cooper watched her up on the stepladder, stirred to the bottom of his soul because he knew that he was being transformed by Sally, too. Turned into someone better and happier just like she was turning the diner into a better and happier place.

Cooper stood a moment, trying to get a grip on all the unfamiliar emotions washing through him. They were clean and powerful and brand-new. He was brand-new.

She had fixed his broken window.

Chapter Fifteen

When Julia tired of painting, all she had to do was think of Cooper and she’d get new energy in her painting arm by picturing slapping the paint all over him.

She’d missed Cooper with a ferocity that shocked her.

The nights were the worst. To her amazement, she missed the sex. Julia had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual woman, but a few nights with Cooper proved that she had had no idea of how quickly you could get addicted to good sex.

Not even good sex, really. Cooper wasn’t much on foreplay, preferring instead to get straight down to business. No matter. Her body didn’t care at all. The instant he started moving in her, she started moving towards orgasm. It was like reaching some erotic zone, where she would just have orgasm after orgasm. Santana, the danger she was in, Simpson—all her problems just fled her mind in an explosion of climaxes.

When she was with Cooper, there was no thought of anything but the wild, heart-stopping pleasure he gave her.

These past nights without him had been terrifying. She’d spent the evenings rattling around alone in the little house, unable to settle down to anything, waiting until it was time to go to bed, dreading it. Bed time was when the horror started.

She’d had a nightmare every single night. Around three every morning, she’d wake up, heart pounding, disoriented, dry-mouthed and terrified. It was getting so she was scared to fall asleep, because that’s when the monsters came for her. Terrifying dark shapes, waiting…

That’s when she missed Cooper with an intensity which was almost as terrifying as the nightmares. It was scary to want someone that much.

Be back Friday
, he’d said. Hah! she thought, pushing down violently on the paint roller, easing up again when she saw she was spattering.

She’d started waiting for Cooper with a deep sense of anticipation already early Friday afternoon, when she and Alice and Maisie had started going over the plans. She’d look up expectantly every time the diner door opened, only to be disappointed. Bernie, Chuck, Glenn, Loren, Matt, even Fred had all crossed the threshold and each time a man approached, her heart leapt into her throat. And then sunk back to her heels.

All day Saturday while they’d worked on the diner, she’d been in a state of expectant tension, making excuses for him in her head.

The flight was delayed. He’s tied up at the ranch. He’s been kidnapped by aliens.

A hundred times, she’d turned to Bernie, the question burning on the tip of her tongue: where’s Cooper? But she was embarrassed and anyway, she didn’t want to hear the answer. What if it was—Coop’s back at the ranch, but too busy to make it into town?

And what was so special about Cooper, anyway? Why should she care about him? He wasn’t handsome and he certainly wasn’t charming. He was—

“Cooper?” she whispered. She was reaching for the last bit in the corner to stencil the wainscoting when there he was at the bottom of the ladder—as if her thinking of him had suddenly conjured him up out of thin air.

He was looking stern, as always. With his dark skin, high cheekbones and midnight-black hair he looked a little like an Incan god. She stared at him for a moment, taking in his impassive features.

All the paint was dripping, destroying an afternoon’s work. She lunged to catch the pale blue drops and overbalanced. The stepladder tilted and she felt herself falling.

“Cooper!” she screamed.

“Right here.” His voice was low and deep and calm as he stretched up and caught her by the waist. His grip was gentle but strong. Julia let the roller drop to the floor as she instinctively braced her hands on his broad shoulders. As easily as if he were lifting a can of coffee down from the shelf, he lifted her off the ladder and let her slide slowly down the length of his body.

Julia could feel his strength permeate her entire being. It was as if the world—the universe—suddenly stilled and she and Cooper were the only people left on the planet. His face above her filled her entire field of vision. Julia reluctantly dropped her hands from his shoulders as her feet touched the floor and aligned her arms along his as he held her waist. Her hands clutched his rock-hard biceps for balance.

Everything suddenly came into alignment, as if that missing piece from the heart of her world had suddenly slotted into place. He was inscrutable and impassive and silent and she had been impatiently waiting for eight days for him to show up. With an almost painful jolt, she realized that she was falling in love with Cooper.

“You’re back,” she said breathlessly, stupidly.

“Yeah.”

She tried to read his face, but couldn’t. All she could see was that he was in the grip of some strong emotion, but she couldn’t begin to decipher which one. His eyes glittered and the skin was stretched tautly over his sharp cheekbones.

“When did you get back?”

“’Bout an hour ago.”

“I thought—I thought you said you were coming back on Friday.” Julia knew that she should release Cooper’s biceps and step back but she couldn’t make herself do it.

“Had a meeting. Flight was delayed. Had a hard time getting back.”

“Well, I’m…glad you’re back.”

His jaw tightened. “Glad to be back.”

“We’re redecorating here, did you know?”

“Heard that. E-mailed Bernie.”

Julia was finally able to smile. She’d almost forgotten his laconic way of speaking. “I guess you left all your pronouns back in Kentucky,” she said.

“Guess so.” One side of Cooper’s hard mouth kicked up in a smile. Funny, Julia had never really noticed what a beautiful mouth he had. His large hands tightened on her and he stared at her for long moments, his gaze roving over her face, finally settling on her mouth. Then he slowly bent his head.

Julia could feel his body heat all over, she could feel his arms under her hands, his long thighs aligned with hers. Julia’s eyes started to close and she rose on tiptoe.

“Oof!” Julia was knocked sideways as Fred launched himself at Cooper and only Cooper’s quick reactions kept her on her feet. Fred was wriggling with happiness, woofing and trying to lick them both.

Half a dozen people were watching them with interest. At Cooper’s glare, Chuck coughed into his fist and turned away and the others drifted off, like spectators after the show.

“Maybe you should brand her, Coop,” Bernie said to Cooper with a grin. “That way there’d be no mistake.” He lifted his hands at Cooper’s snarl. “Just a thought, boss. Just a thought.”

“Come on, dearie,” Maisie said kindly to a dazed Julia. “What you need is a good cup of coffee and my special double chocolate brownies.” She led Julia to the kitchen and Julia followed her on rubber legs, knowing she needed a sugar infusion to get the blood flowing back to her head.

* * * * *

Sydney Davidson dipped a finger into the tepid water in the old, stained bathtub and rolled his eyes with a groan. He shivered. Damn but it was cold out here in Idaho! He thought with longing of his house in Virginia and its brand-new Jacuzzi.

Of course, dead men don’t need Jacuzzis, he reminded himself.

Not for the first time, Sydney Davidson was sorry. Sorry he’d been tempted by the money, sorry he’d misused his training as a biochemist. Sorry he’d gotten his life so far off track.

Even now, he could hardly believe how easy the slide downhill had been. A few insignificant favors—say, a little recreational pharmacology for a party or two, in exchange for the use of a condo in Vail a few weeks a year. More favors—more substantial this time—but a brand-new Lexus in return. And soon he was spending more time on his…extracurricular activities than on the job, while the money just rolled in. And then it had all started spinning out of control, and here he was, running for his life.

Still, all in all, an old bathtub was better than a new coffin.

This was his second chance. By God he was going to do this right.

When this mess was all over and he’d testified, he would…he would dedicate his life to good works.

Not entirely sure exactly what good works entailed, Davidson reflected on how he could turn over a new leaf. The only thing that sprang to mind was the Red Cross. Yes! he thought excitedly. Red Cross workers were dedicated souls, combing the planet for lives to save. Surely that was stressful work. Surely they’d need a little help in coping with all those floods and earthquakes and famines and guerrilla wars.

Let’s see now
, he thought,
I could fix them up with a nice little cocktail to make them feel better. A few milligrams of desapramine and phenylethylamine for the stress, add a dash of serotonin-uptake inhibitors to feel better and forget all that ugliness. That would do the trick.

He turned the hot water tap a little further to the right.

While Davidson was happily thinking of better living through chemistry, a tiny sensor, only a few angstroms thick and undetectable except under an electron microscope, caused a semiconductor to become a conductor instead of an insulator. A live wire that been so carefully frayed, not even the keenest microscope could detect that it had been done deliberately, plunged straight into the boiler.