The Lawman Read online

  He noticed the sweep of her gaze. “It’s the body of a street cop,” he said.

  “The body of a brave man.”

  “No.”

  She put one knee on the bed and leaned toward him to run a hand over his chest as she gazed into his eyes. “Yes, brave. Not because of the physical dangers you’ve faced, and there have been many, but because you’ve dared to reach out for love. From your son. From me.”

  He caught her hand and tried to draw her closer.

  She backed away and gently disengaged her hand from his. “Not yet.”

  “I can tell you this much about your secret remedy. I’m not getting any cooler watching you move around in that silk number.”

  She laughed softly. “Actually, you won’t get cooler. The secret is that soon, you’ll no longer mind the heat.”

  “I want you, Leigh.”

  “I want you, too.” She reached for the massage oil. “But there are levels of wanting, levels of pleasure we have yet to explore.” She poured a circle of oil in the palm of her hand. It pooled there, warm and moist as the delicate scent of safflower and coconut drifted around her. “Now roll over,” she whispered. “And let me worship you.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, and then he complied. Kneeling beside him, she smoothed the oil over the broad expanse of his muscled back. She anointed several puckered ridges where a bullet or a knife had gouged his flesh, and the violence that had caused the scars flooded into her hands. She took it in, breathing deeply to cleanse herself, and him.

  She knew healing physical injuries was possible with her touch, yet now she sought to heal the deeper scars, the ones that didn’t show. He moaned as she rotated her palms down his spine, over his firm buttocks. Replenishing her supply of oil, she manipulated the muscles in his thighs and calves. When she reached his feet, she used her thumbs to stimulate, as well as soothe. His breathing quickened.

  With long, languorous strokes she returned to his hips, his buttocks, the small of his back, until he grew as pliable as warm clay beneath her fingers, until his breathing synchronized with hers. “Melt for me,” she murmured.

  Arms flung to the sides, he closed his eyes and surrendered to her rhythm. A slow, steady beat grew through the music, through her kneading fingers. “Give way,” she crooned, wanting nothing less than capitulation.

  He sighed, a sound wrenched from the depths of his soul.

  “Yes.” With gentle hands she guided him to his back. He moved with fluid grace born of total relaxation, his eyes closed, lines of care erased from his forehead. She covered his chest with smooth strokes, working the oil into his body, the peace into his soul. And the paradox that she had dreamed of came true. The more he relaxed, the more he surged with desire. His shaft thickened and pulsed. She saved the final massage until last.

  Then, when his body obeyed her every pressure, moved in tune with each kneading motion, she swept up that rising expression of his need with one firm stroke, and he groaned the groan of a man carefully, completely aroused.

  “I think,” she whispered, “that you are ready.” Her own preparation had been in tandem with his. Learning his body, she’d schooled her own in the perfect way to fit, to mold, to caress.

  Sheathing him became part of the massage as she unrolled the condom slowly, deftly, giving pleasure as she prepared him for greater joy. At last she unclasped the silk toga and allowed it to fall away.

  “Open your eyes.”

  As his lids lifted, the blaze of passion there took her breath away. She had imagined what she was building, but her imagination had failed to conjure up the burning depths in his eyes.

  As she rose over him, he grasped her shoulders, his fingers biting into her with a force that stopped just short of pain. His voice was rich with husky desire. “If you’ve ever loved another man this way...” He paused, holding her tight. “I just might have to kill him.”

  “No.” She drowned in the molten lava of his gaze as she lowered herself, taking him in. “Never another...like this.”

  He gasped and closed his eyes. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.”

  That he could beg, this man so used to command, was all that she needed to know. Using the rhythm of the ages, she loved him. Desire took him over the edge, pummeling his defenseless body, conquering his will until he arched and cried her name. Over and over. And then, as she melted with him, she called his name, as well, wanting the universe to hear their names spoken together. Then she flew with him across an unbounded and uncharted frontier, a sensuous landscape that would demand no less than all they had to give—forever.

  * * *

  JOE HAD TROUBLE returning to reality—or what he’d always considered to be reality. The mystic world that Leigh offered him when they made love was so powerful that he had to acknowledge its existence, too. How the guys in the precinct would laugh if they saw him now, stretched beneath a woman who believed in crystals, dream-catchers and unicorns. But more important than all of that, she believed in him.

  He stroked her shoulder and she stirred, as if coming out of a trance. He’d felt exactly the same way as he’d gradually become aware of birds chirping outside the window and footsteps in the hallway. “Someone may come looking for us soon,” he murmured.

  “That’s likely.” She lifted her head and gazed down at him, her hair tumbling around her face and swinging down to tickle his nose.

  He ran his fingers through it. “I love your hair.”

  “I love your mustache.” She traced his upper lip.

  “I love your eyes.” He recognized that they were circling a sensitive topic, playing it safe instead of saying the words they were probably both thinking. But that was okay, for now. They both had a lot to deal with in getting used to such forceful emotions. “I think you’ve hypnotized me.”

  She smiled. “A little, perhaps.”

  “A lot, perhaps.”

  “I love your eyes, too,” she said. “When I first saw you, I thought you looked exactly like a lawman from the streets of Dodge City or Tombstone. I think the right term is flinty-eyed.”

  “You liked that?”

  “Sure.” She traced the line of his eyebrows. “It showed strength.”

  “And then I became putty in your hands.”

  Her smile broadened. “Exactly.”

  He glanced around the room. “The minute I stepped in the door, I figured out this was your show. What kind of incense is that?”

  “Jasmine. For luck...and love.”

  He looked into her eyes and allowed her to see a depth of emotion that he felt unable to voice. “I like it. The music’s nice, too.”

  “And the massage?”

  He laughed. “Not bad.” His laughter faded and he touched her cheek. “I’m not good at superlatives, but you were...amazing.”

  “I want you to know something. I’ve never brought another man here. To do so seemed too personal.”

  A primitive satisfaction flooded through him. “I’m honored.”

  “Yes, you are. And now we really need to see if Freddy’s back.” She kissed him lightly and moved away.

  He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and say the hell with everybody else. Instead, he caught her hand and caressed her wrist with his thumb. “I’m afraid you’ve turned me into an addict. Do you think we can manage this disappearing trick again soon?”

  Her brown eyes twinkled. “In case you haven’t noticed, most people go to bed early around here. And my room is right by the back door. I believe, as one of the owners, you have keys to every door on the ranch.”

  “That I do.” Just the prospect of loving her again in this room tonight was enough to bring a response from his eager body. “But right now I think a cold shower is in order.”

  “Through there.”

  Her bathroom was stuffed with aromatic lotions and scented soaps. He scrubbed himself with a loofah and experimented with the pulsing jets on her shower. Such unabashed sensuality really turned him on. He might become a New Age
enthusiast yet.

  While he dressed and she took her turn in the shower, the scent of the soap she used and the rhythmic pounding of the shower jets affected him so much, he had trouble zipping his jeans. She came out of the shower wrapped in a huge fluffy towel. Ignoring her was not an option.

  He drew her into his arms, towel and all, and inhaled her sweet fragrance. “You’re delicious,” he said, savoring the come-hither look in her eyes. “That’s the only word to describe you. You’re not a woman, you’re an entire life experience.”

  “Most women are, if given half a chance,” she said.

  “I plan to give you a whole chance, and then some.” He nestled her against his chest and stroked her hair. “Look, I want you to know something, too. Just like you’ve never brought another man in here, I’ve never said this to another human being.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Anything you do, or have done, is okay with me. I’m not sitting in judgment. I just want you to know that.”

  She stiffened. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He tried again. “I respect your reasons for any actions you’ve taken, and I want to help. I’ll do anything to protect you. So you don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything.”

  She pulled away from him and clutched the towel around her. “You’re talking about the sabotage, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you still think I know something I’m not telling you?”

  “Leigh, it’s logical that you’re involved. You have the strongest motive. What I’m trying to say is that I understand. I’m sure it got out of control and now you don’t know where to turn. Turn to me. I want to help you.”

  Her eyes became dark pools of fury. “Do you imagine I could love you like that—” she swung an arm at the bed “—and still be holding a terrible secret from you?” She began to shake. “That sort of loving means stripping away everything false. You can’t have that kind of experience if you’re keeping things from each other!”

  “But—”

  “I have made a mistake.” Her eyes filled with pain. “I wanted you so much that I imagined you were ready for what I have to give. Obviously you’re not.”

  His mind whirled, trying to grasp that she was rejecting him. No. She couldn’t be slamming the door of paradise in his face. It wasn’t possible.

  “Go.”

  “Don’t do this,” he murmured. “I’m only trying to tell you that I—”

  “Think I’m a liar?” She lifted her chin with such regal poise that he imagined a goddess preparing to smite some poor mortal with a thunderbolt for his audacity. “As long as you can think that, we have no reason to breathe the same air. Now go.”

  Breathe the same air. Ah, she had such a way of phrasing things. That was exactly what he wanted to do, for the rest of his life. But he’d poisoned the air between them with his suspicion. He could not take it back. She was right, he did have doubts. By her standards, doubts were not allowed. There was no arguing with that.

  He picked up his hat from a chair and settled it on his head. Then he touched the brim. “Ma’am.” He didn’t look back as he walked out the door.

  15

  THE FLURRY OF ACTIVITIES in the days preceding the rodeo kept Leigh busy enough for her to submerge her sense of betrayal. She tried to take comfort in the growing intimacy between Kyle and his father. Joe had made progress, astounding progress, really. She’d expected too much from a man used to suspecting the worst from everyone. She assumed that eventually he’d solve the mystery of the accidents around the ranch. When he did, she’d be vindicated, but that would be too late. Joe would have to believe in her on faith alone, before he uncovered the facts that cleared her name, or all was lost.

  Two days before the rodeo, Amanda, Chase and little Bart returned from New York. Amanda had convinced her advertising agency to open a branch in Tucson, and Amanda’s family had been delighted to meet Chase. Leigh was thrilled for Chase, who had become as close to her as a brother in the months he’d lived at the True Love.

  No sooner had Chase and Amanda unpacked than they asked Belinda to watch the baby so they could take a horseback ride with Leigh.

  “Are you sure you want me to go?” Leigh asked as they all saddled up. “I can understand wanting to get on a horse again after all that time back East, but you two probably haven’t had much time alone since you left.”

  “Yes, we want you along,” Chase said firmly. “We want to go up and see how the reconstruction’s coming on the pond, for one thing, and with the hands up there building the dam, we wouldn’t have much privacy, anyway. Besides, we have a few things to tell you.”

  Leigh was secretly glad for any excuse to get away from the ranch for a while. She kept running into Joe, and keeping up a pleasant exterior was becoming increasingly difficult.

  On the way up the canyon, Amanda and Chase exclaimed over the damage caused by the flash flood.

  “I was hoping Joe would have solved this business by the time we got back,” Chase said. “Doesn’t he have any idea who’s behind the accidents?”

  Leigh decided not to mention that she was Joe’s chief suspect. “It’s difficult working on his own and trying to keep the investigation quiet. When the dam was dynamited, he and Ry talked about putting in an insurance claim, but the insurance company would have sent investigators out here.”

  Chase sighed. “If Joe doesn’t solve this soon, we’ll have to call in the police. We’ve been lucky nobody’s been seriously hurt. Or killed.”

  Leigh shivered. Joe thought she had something to do with incidents that could have cost lives. The concept made her soul ache with the injustice of it.

  She, Chase and Amanda inspected the progress on the pond. A temporary dam had been constructed farther upstream, and now the hands were replacing the rocks at the original dam site. All the dead fish had been hauled away, but the scummy bottom of the pond still didn’t smell very appetizing.

  “Yuck,” Amanda said, wrinkling her nose. “Let’s go upstream.” She turned her horse and started up the canyon.

  A muscle in Chase’s jaw twitched as he eyed the scene. “I would love to get my hands on the jerk that did this. In fact, I look forward to meeting him. He has a lot to answer for.”

  “Don’t forget that Duane and Belinda are still on Joe’s list of suspects.”

  Chase shook his head. “Neither of them was responsible for this.”

  “Try telling Joe that.” Leigh realized she’d revealed some of her bitterness when Chase glanced at her, a question in his green eyes. She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t mind me. We’ve had an eventful few days while you’ve been gone.”

  “I take it you and Gilardini aren’t getting along?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  She gave him a weary smile. “Maybe. But not right now. I agree with Amanda. Let’s go upstream.”

  They found a spot near the temporary dam where a gnarled oak provided enough shade for all three of them. They dismounted, tethered the horses and carried their canteens under the tree.

  “Okay,” Leigh said when everyone was settled. “What’s the big news?”

  “We didn’t want to make a general announcement, but we wanted you to know,” Amanda said. “We found out about Chase’s mother.”

  Leigh’s gaze swung to Chase and he nodded, a sad smile playing over his face. Raised in a series of foster homes with no idea who his father was and no knowledge of his mother’s whereabouts, he’d been ashamed of his background for most of his adult life. Amanda had encouraged him to confront his past and try to find his mother. “You don’t look very happy about what you found,” Leigh said.

  “It’s not a happy story, but I’m glad I know it.” He reached for Amanda’s hand. “If Amanda hadn’t come into my life, I’d have gone on believing my mother wasn’t a very nice person.”

  “You’re speaking in the past tense,” Leigh said.

  “Yeah
.” Chase sighed. “We found out where she’s buried, in a grungy little cemetery. We’re buying her a decent headstone. Amanda helped me with the words on it. Helen Marie Lavette, mother of Chase. She gave everything she had.” Chase looked up, his eyes bright, his voice husky. “And she did.”

  As if sensing Chase would have difficulty telling the story, Amanda took up the tale. Through a medallion Chase wore that had belonged to his mother, they’d located Helen’s grammar school and eventually one of her old classmates, Suzanne, who’d kept in touch with her. They learned that Helen had been managing to support her only child with a series of minimum-wage jobs, but she had no family, no safety net of any kind. Then she developed cancer and knew she would waste away, possibly traumatizing her small son. She’d put him in foster care before the deterioration started. As long as she had the strength, she’d kept tabs on him, creeping up to the window of the house where he lived or peering over the fence to watch him playing in the yard, until she was hospitalized for the last weeks of her life.

  “She must have loved you very much,” Leigh said, her throat tight.

  Chase swallowed and stared at the toe of his boot. “Yep.”

  “We’re keeping our fingers crossed that our next baby will be a girl,” Amanda said, “so we can name her Helen Marie.”

  Leigh focused on them and allowed her mind to expand beyond this moment under an oak tree. “I think you will have a little girl,” she said with a smile.

  Chase looked at her. “You think or you know?”

  Leigh chuckled. “Actually, I know, but I usually pretend I’m not sure, so people won’t freak out.”

  “We won’t freak out,” Chase said with a grin. “We know you’re weird, and we love you for it.” He got to his feet and helped Amanda up. “We’d better get back. We’re not keeping the story about my mother a secret, exactly. We just wanted you to be the first to know.” He glanced at her. “Unless you knew all this already?”