Nanny

chapter 41

 

The Laramie Airport was quiet at this late hour. A few tired travelers waited for their baggage, glancing out at skies that promised snow.

 

Didn’t it just figure that they had lost her bag, Summer thought. After two delayed flights and ten hours of nonstop traveling, she was dead on her feet, and now her bag was gone.

 

She shouldered her backpack and headed to the information desk to file an inquiry. With her luck, they wouldn’t find the bag until she was back in Philadelphia on Monday.

 

What was she doing here, anyway?

 

Frowning, she backtracked through the last month, beginning with the news that Cara was completely recovered and she and Senator Winslow were finally tying the knot. But Summer was in the middle of a tough case and she still had five rehabilitation classes to complete. She didn’t have time to fly out to a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Despite her protests, Summer soon found out that San Francisco’s assistant DA was a hard person to refuse—and her two winsome girls were even harder to refuse than their mother.

 

Audra wanted to show Summer how her kickboxing moves were coming along.

 

Sophy needed to display her latest ballet technique.

 

Despite her exhaustion, Summer smiled at the memory of that last, hectic phone call. The deciding point had come when Cara mentioned that Gabe wouldn’t be attending because of his Navy duties. Summer still remembered the sharp, stabbing pain of hearing his name again.

 

Not that the pain wouldn’t heal, because it would.

 

Maybe in twenty or thirty years. Meanwhile, she had a wedding to attend.

 

A television echoed in the deserted airport coffee shop, blaring all-night news. Summer noticed that her current case was mentioned briefly, with the facts largely garbled. She shook her head as a weatherman in a string tie pointed to a colorful map, warning that bad weather was headed in over the Rockies.

 

Just her luck. First her bag bit the dust, now a major snowstorm was roaring straight toward her.

 

 

 

The man at the information desk was courteous and efficient when Summer gave him her name and hotel address. He seemed to study her for a moment, then handed her a receipt, explaining that her bag would be delivered directly to her hotel, assuming it was found before the storm hit.

 

“Gonna be a bad one,” he added gravely.

 

Not overly optimistic, Summer asked for directions to the nearest store. She couldn’t go to a wedding in blue jeans.

 

 

 

Summer was just picking up the rental car Senator Winslow had arranged for her when her cell phone rang. Izzy’s voice boomed out, energetic as always. “So how’s Wyoming?”

 

“Do you have a tracking device on me, Izzy?”

 

The woman at the rental desk looked up and shrugged. She’d probably seen and heard everything, Summer thought.

 

“Nah. I checked the national flight database, confirmed you were on board, and tracked your arrival time. Nothing major.”

 

Summer nodded at the rental agent, collected her papers, and headed toward the parking lot to find her SUV. “Glad you’re on our side, Mr. Teague.”

 

“That’s Izzy to you, ma’am.” Papers rustled. “I thought you might like an update on the Winslow case. I’ve got some interesting news about our not-so-friendly family chef.”

 

“You mean Patrick Flanagan?”

 

“Patrick Flanagan, aka Patrick Cash. When the police searched his apartment they found a key to a storage facility. Yesterday it was finally located and opened.”

 

“And?”

 

“And they found a shitload of files and photographs, begging your pardon.”

 

“No problem. What kind of files and photos?”

 

“Surveillance stuff, records of phone calls Cara O’Connor had made and received. Notes on the girls, on their school schedules, and details about Audra’s friends.”

 

“Including Tracey Van Doren?”

 

“One and all. Tracey told her mother that she had been involved with Patrick for about six months, sneaking out secretly at night. Apparently, he was using her to get inside information about the family. Her self-esteem was pretty shaky, so it wasn’t hard for him to use her.”

 

Summer stared at the darkening sky. “Bastard.”

 

“No doubt about it. We knew he was involved, but not how carefully he had planned every move. He toyed with Tracey’s head, but now she’s in therapy, and that’s helping to straighten her out.”

 

“Therapy has helped Cara and Audra quite a bit. Cara’s sister and her family have been involved, too. They’re all going to be at the wedding, I hear.”

 

“Nice people. I spoke to Cara’s sister several times about some media concerns.”

 

Summer heard something in his voice. “What is it, Izzy?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“I still can’t believe how Patrick conned everyone. He seemed so helpful, so unthreatening.” Summer sighed. “I should have read him better. The man was too good to be true.”

 

“Forget feeling guilty. He was a master of manipulation, but his cooking skills were real. He was also involved in Costello’s protection rackets and smuggling down in Mexico. A real credit to his employer, you might say.”

 

He’d been there all along, right under their noses. Summer blew out a long breath. “How do you hear these things first?”

 

“Must be my charming smile.” Izzy laughed. “That and my superior surveillance skills.”

 

“What about Patrick’s involvement with Amanda Winslow? Won’t that all come out now?”

 

“Maybe not. With Patrick and Amanda dead, everything changes. Costello’s still trying to prove he’s a stand-up guy, completely reformed, and he won’t be anxious to have his connection with Patrick revealed, since it will harm his appeal. In fact, I doubt that Patrick planned the murder. My guess is, the assignment from Costello was to frighten Cara into helping with the case.”

 

“So the poison was Amanda’s idea?” Summer considered the pattern. “It makes sense. Costello wouldn’t want Cara dead until his appeal was granted.”

 

“That’s how I figure it,” Izzy said grimly. “But Cara and Tate will have to live with the possibility that someone else may surface who knew what Amanda had planned.”

 

Summer rubbed a knot at the back of her neck. After his mother’s funeral, Tate Winslow had postponed his presidential run indefinitely. The discovery of Amanda’s dementia had left him shaken, determined to spend time mending fences and taking a long, hard look at his future.

 

Whatever he decided, Cara would be at his side.

 

Izzy cleared his throat. “So how are you holding up?”

 

“Fine, except that my suitcase is lost.”

 

“Anything I can do to help?”

 

“Buy me some lingerie? Hack into the national airline database and find the missing bag?”

 

“I could try.”

 

“That was a joke, Izzy. I’ll be fine. I may simply head for the nearest store and shop till I drop.”

 

“Then you’d better pick someplace close, with that storm front rolling in. There’s a nice place about six miles away, I see. You want driving instructions?”

 

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

 

“Nothing of any value,” Izzy said calmly.

 

Silence fell. Summer watched two sleepy boys in cowboy boots and miniature Stetsons cross the lobby with their father, a tall cowboy who was waving at a woman with snow dusting her hair.

 

So the storm was already here.

 

Izzy cleared his throat. “I’ll tell Gabe I spoke to you.”

 

Summer gripped the cell phone tightly. “There’s no need. He’s too busy to be interested in me.” She ignored the burning pressure at her throat. “I have to run, Izzy. It’s starting to snow and I don’t want to be stranded.”

 

“Sure. Drive carefully. I’ll tell Gabe you said hi.”

 

The phone went dead.

 

Summer took a hard breath. No more remembering. Gabe had moved on, and so would she. She was halfway to the front doors when she heard her name called.

 

“Ms. Mulcahey?” It was the woman from the rental car desk.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’m afraid I forgot something.” The woman held out a long box. “This came tonight and was to be held for your arrival.”

 

Frowning, Summer took the box and opened the cardboard lid. Inside a single red rose nestled on white paper. “For me?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. It was prepaid. Somebody knows how to be very romantic.”

 

Probably Izzy, Summer thought. Trying to cheer her up. The man was unbelievable. “Did he leave his name?”

 

“I’m afraid not.” The attendant glanced out at the white flakes dancing over the entrance road. “Enjoy your rose. And drive carefully. It’s getting pretty nasty out there.”

 

 

 

One hour and two aspirins later, Summer stood in one of Laramie, Wyoming’s, few dress shops. A long red dress and a lacy bra lay on the bench beside her as she stared in the long mirror. Her current selection, a dress of blue silk with a clinging skirt and a beaded hem, was nice. Either this dress or the red one would be perfect for Cara’s wedding—except that Summer wasn’t in the mood for a wedding.

 

They said when you fell off a horse, the best medicine was to climb right back on. Maybe she should check out the unmarried men and find a nice tall cowboy to carry her off into the Wyoming night.

 

Except there would probably be six-foot snowdrifts by this time tomorrow, and even if there weren’t, Summer couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for snuggling up with a stranger, no matter how handsome.

 

She unzipped the dress and pulled it over her head, wincing as the silk caught in her hair. Pain stabbed down her forehead from half a dozen beads tangled in her hair.

 

Just great. A predawn departure, two delayed flights, and a food quota of four bags of salted peanuts. Life just wasn’t fair.

 

Cool air brushed against her legs.

 

She turned around slowly. “Is someone there?”

 

There was no answer.

 

“Hello?”

 

The dressing room curtain rustled behind her. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

 

Summer’s heart skipped against her chest like a small, frightened animal.

 

Gabe.

 

She took a step backward and banged hard into the wall, the dress still stuck over her head.

 

“Stop before you hurt yourself.”

 

As if he cared. “I don’t need your help. Just g-go. What are you doing here anyway? You’re supposed to be somewhere working.”

 

Summer couldn’t seem to breathe. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She was supposed to be cool and aloof, so beautiful that she broke his heart. Not caught like an idiot with her dress tangled around her and tears on her cheeks.

 

“I lied,” he said.

 

“G-go away.”

 

“I can’t. You break my heart,” Gabe said quietly, bending to untangle the beads from her hair.

 

Summer peered through a gap in the silk. He looked good, she thought. No, he looked fabulous, lean and dangerous in a black turtleneck and a black leather jacket.

 

She forced down an instinct to touch his cheek, to comb back an unruly strand of dark hair. Did the man think he could wander back into her life after months of silence, as if the awful scene in San Diego hadn’t happened?

 

“Fine, Morgan. One night. Decent sex and nothing else. That’s all I’m interested in.” He’d never expect this answer from her, Summer thought grimly.

 

He stared as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “You want sex?”

 

“Yeah, you know sex. That thing two people do when they get naked and make hot, panting sounds. You’ve got one night. And in the morning, you take a hike.”

 

“I know what sex is, damn it, but you’re out of luck.”

 

“In that case, good-bye, adios, sayonara.” Summer shoved the dress down, wincing as another clump of hair pulled free, along with three crystal beads.

 

Cursing, Gabe yanked her into his arms. “Okay, it’s a deal. But it will be one night of incredible sex. Decent won’t even come close.”

 

Summer felt a dangerous stab of desire and realized the mistake she’d just made. “But you’re not interested. Not in me. Back in San Diego you said—”

 

“I know what I said in San Diego, but I’ve changed my mind,” he said grimly.

 

“Too bad. I’ve changed my mind, too. I’m not in the mood for sex after all.”

 

“Sure about that?” He traced her lips slowly, and Summer fought not to betray her slamming pulse.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

He stared at her, his face unreadable. “If it’s sex you want, I’m your man, honey.”

 

“Do us both a favor.” Summer tilted her chin, summoning every bit of cold, angry willpower. “Go take a long hike in the snowstorm—right up to the top of the nearest mountain. And don’t come back.”

 

 

 

Summer headed out of the department store lot into a solid curtain of white flakes. She was still a little shaky and some of the blur in her windshield was from tears, but in spite of that she felt surprisingly good. She had seen Gabe and survived. He was just as rugged and handsome as she remembered, with the same dark intensity that made women turn their heads and stare in avid appreciation.

 

But Summer hadn’t caved. She’d kicked him out of her life, which was just where he belonged.

 

Feeling calmer, she peered through the snow and flipped on the radio. Dear God, no more advertisements for Viagra or used truck parts, she prayed.

 

A hand touched her shoulder. Gasping, she almost shot through the roof. Her hand was on her service revolver when she saw Gabe leaning over from the backseat of the big SUV.

 

“Get out,” she snapped.

 

His hand curved, cupping her cheek. “I was a fool, Summer.”

 

“Damned straight you were. Are,” she added fiercely.

 

“Let me make it up to you.”

 

“Not interested, Navy. And how did you get into my car?” she demanded.

 

Gabe waved a key. “Izzy has connections you wouldn’t believe.”

 

Summer spotted an abandoned gas station down the road and pulled beneath the overhang. “If you’re not out of here in two minutes, I’m calling the local FBI field office.”

 

As she clutched the wheel, she saw her arm, pale in the moonlight cast off the snow. The scars were small now, barely visible, but to Summer they were just as glaring as ever.

 

You didn’t see yourself the way the world saw you. The truth in your head was always different from the truth everyone else saw.

 

Only with Gabe had she managed to forget her scars and bad memories. But she wasn’t going to risk being stupid and na?ve like that again.

 

Teeth caught her ear gently. Callused fingers eased down, opening her coat and tracing the collar of her blouse. “How about I explain? Then we can have that amazing sex you wanted. Hell, with this storm moving in, you can punish me for hours.”

 

“Dream on, Morgan.” But his fingers were doing something unforgettable, and her body was remembering Mexico, coming alive in hot, reckless ways. She moved out of reach. “For the record, I’d rather cough up fur balls.”

 

“No, you wouldn’t.”

 

On the radio, a man’s voice droned on, announcing plays from a baseball game recorded earlier on the East Coast. “Line drive to center field.”

 

Gabe’s tongue brushed her ear. “I love you,” he muttered. “I was afraid to tell you that when I had no future, Summer. The woman in my apartment in San Diego was a friend helping me with my rehab. Call me stupid or call me a coward, but the surgery on my knee took weeks, and it might have failed. Hell, it still might. You need to know that up front.”

 

Something softened in Summer’s heart. “You’ll pull through.”

 

“Will I? Look at me, Summer. I’ve been rough with you, partly because I lost someone I loved once and I was afraid to go through it again. If I left you first, the problem would never arise. I regret how that hurt you, and I hope you’ll give me another chance. Even if I am a big, stupid, overbearing—”

 

Summer turned around. “I never said you were stupid,” she said shakily as Gabe’s arms wrapped around her. “All the rest will depend on you.” Her lips curved. “On how amazing the sex is.”

 

Gabe studied her with a look of sheer, focused wickedness. “Snow’s getting pretty bad. I think we’d better stay here for a bit.” He was already tugging at her coat and freeing her blouse.

 

Summer took a shaky breath and reached for the wheel—then yelped when she felt her blouse go flying. His fingers freed one breast and teased her already aroused nipple to a tight, hard point. “Stop that.”

 

Laughing softly, Gabe kissed his way along her jaw and bit gently on her lower lip. “Afraid I can’t. You’re just too damned—juicy.” He leaned closer, and his hand slid to her waist and below, cupping her through too many layers of cloth. “God, you feel good. This is definitely going to take all night.”

 

Snow dusted the windshield as her bra fell and she attacked his sweater, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. “Incredible sex, remember? Nothing less counts.” She refused to think about tomorrow. Tonight she was going to trust her heart and believe it hadn’t steered her wrong.

 

Gabe pulled her down onto the seat beside him, his eyes very dark. “I’ll do my damnedest, honey.” He frowned. “It’s been a while, though, and my knee—”

 

“Forget your knee, Navy. Tonight you won’t even know it exists.” Summer felt her heart in the words, knew her vulnerability.

 

The radio droned on as Gabe pulled off his shirt. His eyes savored every inch of her body.

 

“That’s a solid hit. Line drive to center field,” a male voice shouted.

 

Summer gasped as Gabe stripped off his pants and buried himself inside her, hot and huge and hers. Reckless or not, she never wanted to go back to the 24/7 workaholic she’d been before Gabe. Their hands joined, their fingers locked. Summer realized she was different, and that the change had started the moment she’d seen his naked body in her shower. Someday she’d tell him what a great body it was, too.

 

“Another slam to center field,” the disembodied voice announced on the radio.

 

Summer watched Gabe while pleasure took her up, fast and hard.

 

“And the crowd goes wild,” she whispered.

 

 

 

She wore a dazed smile and not a hint of anything else. Her body still tingled from the hot pull of his mouth.

 

As her pleasant exhaustion began to lift, Summer realized she was going to have beard burn in all sorts of interesting places in the morning.

 

She trusted him. She trusted herself now and how he made her feel. The combination was heady.

 

She felt his strong body turn beside her as he slipped one arm beneath her head. Given that they were wedged into the backseat of a Jeep Grand Cherokee, the fit was tight.

 

“You still alive?” she whispered.

 

Gabe stirred. “Possibly.” He propped his head on his hand. “Of course, the night’s not over yet.” He traced the pinkish mark on her upper breast. “Did I do this?”

 

Summer nodded smugly. “You need a razor.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Apologize and I’ll have to shoot you, Navy.”

 

Gabe’s lips curved. “Don’t suppose that I did that anywhere . . . else.”

 

Outside the highway was white with newly fallen snow, but inside the car, they were warm and snug, body to body. Summer stretched slowly. “A skilled operative like you could probably find out.”

 

“Is that a challenge?”

 

“You bet.”

 

“I always like a good mission plan.” Gabe shoved away scattered clothing, Summer’s cherished rose, and the blanket he had brought with him all the way from California as part of his careful plan. “One on your hip. It looks uncomfortable.” He whisked it lightly with his tongue. “One on your elbow. Another one on this pink and very beautiful nipple.” This area received his particular scrutiny, followed by the loving rasp of his tongue.

 

The car was warm, the motor idling. Outside the windows, snow continued to veil the night. A red motel sign blazed across a white-swept field, less than a mile away, but neither had been able to wait. Summer still couldn’t believe she was having wild, reckless sex in the backseat of a rental car with her clothes in a crazy tangle around her.

 

Life was good, she thought weakly. When Gabe turned his attention to her other breast, life became even better. “Arkh.”

 

“I beg your pardon.”

 

“It’s code. It means that you were—amazing.”

 

Gabe drew her closer, running one hand gently along her cheek. “Good.”

 

“Was it—what I mean is, were you disappointed?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You know. With me. With us.” Summer cleared her throat, frowning at the roof of the car. “As a good . . . well, whatever you men call it.”

 

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “A good lay?”

 

“Or whatever.”

 

“Mulcahey, I could barely move when you finished with me. And when you straddled me and took me in your hand . . . Disappointed? Hell, I almost had a coronary.”

 

Summer flushed. “That’s not an answer.”

 

“You want to know how it felt?” Gabe nudged her up onto his chest, so that their legs intertwined and Summer was seated firmly on his thighs. “Let me think.”

 

“Amazed?” Summer murmured.

 

He moved slightly, and their bodies slid into an intimate fit. “Engorged. Amazed, too.”

 

“This is important, Gabe.” She stared at him gravely. “I mean, we both know I’m not exactly Dream Date material. I’d probably be the first to get voted out of the tribe—”

 

He cut her off with a curse, holding her perfectly still. “You keep me up at night. You make me smile when it’s the last thing I want to do. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met, especially if you’re willing to take a chance on a hard case like me.”

 

“In a second,” she said softly.

 

He traced her breasts with one finger, smiling when she shivered, her nipples going taut. “I forgot to mention that you’re so damned responsive you take my breath away.”

 

“Only with you,” Summer whispered, shocked that he could make her feel this way again so soon.

 

“Glad to hear it. At least I won’t have to kill anybody.” His voice filled with something low and primitive.

 

His hand slipped between their bodies, exploring her slowly. “You’re wet, honey.”

 

Summer felt a delicious stab of heat as his fingers moved deeper. “Hard not to be, with you wedged naked against me and gorgeous muscles everywhere I look.” She wiggled against his chest.

 

“That old man in Mexico was right,” Gabe said huskily. “You are definitely juicy.”

 

“You think?” Summer licked her dry lips, remembering how he’d felt inside her, slow and relentless, so hard she’d screamed when he’d driven her up to a mind-shredding climax. “Why does this keep getting better and better?”

 

“You mean this part?” He pushed slowly inside her until her muscles tensed, clutching around him. “Or this part?” As he spoke, he moved again, seating himself higher.

 

Summer panted, unable to answer, her nails digging into his back. The car windows were completely fogged up, and some part of Gabe’s mind found that amusing. Another part couldn’t have cared if everyone in Wyoming was camped outside to watch.

 

He was beyond caring.

 

He shifted, holding her motionless above him while snow drifted cool and silent against the fogged windows. His eyes were dark, holding unspoken promises. “This is once in a lifetime, honey. It’s never been this way for me,” he said savagely. “There have been a lot of others, Summer. After Rosalita, I wasn’t going to take a chance on caring too much. But then there was you, and God help me, I can’t stop thinking of you or wanting you like this.”

 

He rose without warning, driving deep. He felt her stiffen, watched her lovely eyes darken with surprise, then blur as she shot to a panting climax that left her nails raking his back. As she gripped him, it was all Gabe could do to keep from throwing himself over that jagged edge along with her, but the sight of her pleasure was too damned erotic to miss.

 

He held back, opening his senses to the amazing experience of her body riding him while he hoarded the memory of her hoarse, throaty cries. If she wanted reckless, she could have it—morning, noon, and night. If she wanted long, slow cherishing, she’d have that, too. And if any of her fellow agents tried to harass her, he’d see that they turned up with a few broken bones. They’d already received indirect warnings to that effect, delivered through her SAC, who sounded like a stand-up guy. Better still, Summer had been officially cleared of any involvement in her partner’s death.

 

Of course, Summer had no idea that Gabe had made a call to Tate, who had handled the matter discreetly. If she found out, she would probably murder them both.

 

Gabe dragged in a breath when he felt her body shift, her hands moving down to cup the most sensitive part of him, taking him between her fingers. Slowly she explored him, testing the smooth curves, lifting gently.

 

“Damn, honey, if you do any more of that—”

 

She did, rising slowly.

 

Sliding down onto his rock-hard erection.

 

Gabe sucked in a breath as his control shredded to confetti. She took him with hungry urgency, drawing him deep, her hands an exquisite torment.

 

To hell with waiting.

 

Gabe growled her name and poured himself inside her.

 

 

 

Someone moved.

 

Gabe smiled up into the darkness. “If a fire starts inside the car anytime soon, don’t bother to wake me.”

 

A slow, sated laugh was Summer’s only reply.

 

“Come to think of it, I just saw sparks. They were right above your . . .” He showed her where with skillful fingers.

 

Summer shivered. “Static electricity, Morgan.”

 

“Oh.” He traced her hip slowly. “Is that what they call it?”

 

She gave another husky laugh.

 

“I’ve got one thing to ask.”

 

“Sorry. Too tired.” Her hand moved down his thigh. “All your fault.”

 

Gabe didn’t hide a possessive smile. “Just one, I promise.”

 

“You can try.” Summer moved her thigh sleepily across his leg. “I may not remember anything beyond the last twenty minutes, I warn you.”

 

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else. Something that only I will know.”

 

Summer opened one eye slightly and considered. “I have a freckle on my left thigh, just below my . . .” She raised one leg in the dim light. “There.”

 

“Nice, but not what I had in mind. Tell me something personal.”

 

“Is this some kind of weird test?”

 

“Call it a beginning. We’re building things here. New things like trust, understanding. Hell, Summer, I want to do everything right with you.”

 

Another arrow slid painlessly into her heart. She couldn’t fight her happiness any longer. Love had crept up on her and she wouldn’t hide from it. “No complaints from this side of the seat.” She took a breath, her body tensing just a little. “Here’s my thing. I don’t know how to dance. Even the thought scares the heck out of me. And to do it in public—” She blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Sheer panic.”

 

“But you helped with Sophy.”

 

“Kids and their moms. That doesn’t count.”

 

Gabe kissed her shoulder. “I think you’d be great.”

 

“Never. Don’t even think about it. I mean that.” She pushed up onto one elbow. “Your turn, hard case.”

 

Gabe frowned. “I’m not—”

 

“Yeah, you are. I’m waiting.”

 

“Singing.”

 

“You don’t like music?” Her brow rose. “Frank Sinatra? Jon Bon Jovi?”

 

“No, me singing. In front of someone else, damn it.”

 

Summer traced his mouth. “As I recall, you were singing the first time we met.”

 

“That was different. I didn’t know you were there and my leg hurt, so I was trying to distract myself from the pain.”

 

“I thought you were just being a jerk.” Summer laughed softly. “For a jerk, you had a world-class butt and abs to die for.”

 

“You looked? You made such a big deal about ignor-ing me.”

 

She’d looked, all right. No woman alive could have ignored that amazing body. Even Mother Teresa would have stolen a quick peek. “So sue me. What happens now that we know each other’s deep, dark secrets?”

 

“Nothing. It’s enough to know, and feel safe that someone else knows. It’s about trusting, not necessarily about doing.”

 

Another arrow zinged deep into Summer’s heart.

 

“Smart guy.” She slid her leg across Gabe’s body. “If I had any strength left, I might just—”

 

Gabe cut her off, frowning as a dark shape moved out of the snow. “Hell.”

 

“What?”

 

“We’ve got company.”

 

Summer stared over his shoulder. “Just a snowplow. See, he’s turning in the opposite direction. Life has to go on, I suppose.”

 

“Not for me,” Gabe muttered. “I may just change my address to the backseat of this car.”

 

“Good plan.” She collapsed against him, scattering provoking kisses over his chest until he pulled her down and stilled her with a tongue-to-tongue, openmouthed kiss that started the whole dizzy madness all over again.

 

 

 

An hour later Gabe could barely move and his knee hurt, but he’d never felt so alive in his life. He owed it all to Summer.

 

Not because she didn’t have a clue how graceful, gorgeous, and sensual she was. Not even because of her focus and intensity, which he found more sexually arousing than any low-cut lingerie.

 

It was because of the bond that had grown, unshakable between them. Because of their trust. Either way, it added up to a four-letter word he hadn’t had the courage to use for years.

 

His parents’ marriage had been rock stable for fifty years, and they’d held hands right up to the day his father had died of a massive heart attack. Gabe had figured they were some kind of freak of nature and had long ago stopped hoping to find the same kind of intensity in a relationship. The women he met usually wanted a few drinks and a night of gritty sex, no strings attached.

 

And when they waved good-bye, Gabe had always felt a sense of relief.

 

But Summer had stirred a different reaction right from the start. He’d needed to know more about her, wanted to get closer, from the second he’d seen her glaring at him outside the shower.

 

She wasn’t bouncy and perky. Her nose was slightly crooked, her shoulders were a little too wide, and she had a mouth that could raise welts. But he found her blindingly irresistible. The sex was incredible, too, but this went way beyond sex. Staring into the darkness, Gabe smiled.

 

Her eyes were closed, and her breath skimmed his cheek as she slept, curved against his chest. Even the slightest friction of her thigh against his groin rocketed down to his growing erection.

 

It was happening again. She made him feel fifteen again, awash in hormones and sheer lust.

 

But she had to be tender after all they’d done. Ignoring his need, he pulled the blanket over them and drifted off to sleep while snow whispered muted promises in the night.

 

 

 

“You asleep?”

 

“Mmnrah.”

 

“Summer?”

 

“Wmmmm.”

 

Gabe shifted her sleepy body, peering through the gray, predawn light.

 

A motor raced nearby.

 

Gabe pulled the blanket up over her breasts. “We’ve got company.”

 

“G’way. Not on duty,” she rasped.

 

He almost smiled. What had happened to the 24/7 work-obsessed field agent he’d met a few months ago? “It’s Gabe, honey, not work.”

 

“Gowaywannasleep.”

 

The blanket twisted free, hitched across her shoulder. Her lovely breasts glinted up at him in the dawn light.

 

Cursing, Gabe covered her up, then reached for his pants. “I think you need to wake up, here.”

 

Sighing, she pulled the pillow over her head.

 

Gabe dug under the seat and found his jeans. After digging through more clothes and Summer’s dropped cell phone, he found the weapon he’d stashed during the night. Not that he expected trouble, but Gabe had learned that trouble usually came when you had your pants down.

 

Metaphorically speaking.

 

Car lights flashed through the swirling snow, and a voice drifted toward him.

 

Gabe eased the gun into his palm as a figure loomed out of the snow, bending toward the window.

 

Gloved hands brushed off a wedge of snow, and dark eyes flashed in a dark face. “Damn it, Morgan, don’t you ever answer that overpriced cell phone I gave you?”

 

 

 

 

 

Christina Skye's books