DESI'S RESCUE Page 16

  Tam stuck out his foot and stopped it dead, then pushed inside and grabbed her. Before she even knew what was happening, he'd laid claim to her mouth, kissing her with a fierce, explosive heat that was in no way gentle or kind or even asking forgiveness.

  Desi exploded, and they were locked in a frantic, deep embrace, lips and tongues locked in a bruising kiss, her hands on his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as she could. When she could get her hand inside, she bent down and bit him, nipping with less than gentle teeth, and he growled and didn't bother with her blouse. He unbuckled her belt and shoved down her jeans, unshackling himself, then grabbed her. She leaped and he caught her buttocks in his hands. Her legs wrapped around his waist and Tam, without missing a beat, turned and planted her back against the wall and rammed himself into the sheath of her hot and waiting flesh.

  Desi cried out as he drove himself home, all thick heat and power, her arms around his neck, her legs tight around his waist. It was brutal and primitive and when she exploded in orgasm, it was also wildly satisfying. He roared, his body going rigid, and bit down into her shoulder, as if he were an animal, holding her still.

  They panted together but didn't speak for long moments. Desi's head fell on his shoulder, and his nose was in her neck, and he held her as if she weighed no more than a little doll.

  "We didn't use a condom," Desi said.

  He raised his head and met her eyes. "That's because—" he said, and bent to suck her lower lip into his mouth, "—I gave you a baby tonight."

  Desi swallowed. "Why would I want a baby with you?"

  He grinned and sucked her lip again, running his tongue over the place. "You do." He pulled back and carried her toward the pallet on the floor. "And just to be sure, I think we're gonna do it again."

  Desi started to fight him. "What makes you think I want to?"

  He laughed, falling down on top of her, catching his weight on his elbows. "Because this is the best sex we've ever had, right here. You fit me," he said, and moved his hips, his member thickening within her in the most erotic feeling Desi had ever known. She couldn't seem to move away, and when he tugged at the hem of her sweater, she let him peel it upward, skimming it over her head, without ever losing touch with their joining. She was there in her bra and nothing else. He still had on boots, and his jeans were around his ankles and his shirt hung open around his bare chest. "And you know it, too," he said gruffly.

  Beneath her fingers, his skin felt as sleek and pliant as a horse's flank. She traced a muscle that run from his shoulder to his neck, traced the line up his ear, around his cheekbone, over his eyelid, down to his lower lip. He sucked her finger into his mouth and Desi felt a rush of anticipation down her spine. "I just don't think I can stand to fall in love, Tam. The only other time just about killed me."

  "It wasn't falling in, was it?" he asked reasonably, "It was falling out."

  "Yes. That's always the bad part." She sucked in her breath as he brushed his lips over her collarbone and then tried to unfasten the front hook of her bra with one hand. When he wasn't successful, he used both hands. Her breasts tumbled out into the cool air, and he gathered her up.

  "Better," he said in a soft voice. His organ twitched, but he stayed still, her thighs on the outside of his, her body clasping his, little echoes of greeting back and forth between them.

  He bent to take her nipple into his mouth. "You like this, don't you?"

  "What, sex?"

  "This part, in particular," he said, and sucked on her nipple, then released it, running his tongue around the tip until there was a low, urgent pulsing between her legs. Around his sex, which simply rested there inside of her, almost too big, stretching her, not moving.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "What else?" he said, and raised his head. "What else do you like?"

  "About sex?"

  "About me."

  And in that single second, Desi understood that he was far more vulnerable to her than he let on, that he genuinely wanted to win her good opinion. "So far," she said honestly, looking into the green of his eyes, "I haven't found anything I don't like about you, Tamati."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." She nuzzled closer, rubbed her cheek on his jaw.

  "That's what I like to hear," he said, and very slowly, very erotically, began to move.

  * * *

  Later Tam held her close as she dozed. He felt stunned and stung with sweetness and he just held her very close. Quietly, looking into the fire she said, "It's not easy for me to let down my guard, Tam."

  "I know, love," he said, and kissed her ear. "I'm patient."

  "We can't have a commitment until I know what's going on with the charges against me."

  "Why?"

  "Because I might go to prison." She rolled over and looked up at him. "You deserve more than sitting around waiting for some woman to get out of jail."

  "You deserve more than to go." He half smiled. "What if we run away to New Zealand?"

  "Now?"

  "No, I'd rather stay here if we can. I love my pub and it'd make my heart sore to leave it, but I think prison would kill you."

  A flicker of something sharp crossed her face. "I am afraid of that, too," she admitted. "How could I bear never being outside?" An involuntary shudder moved down her spine. "What do you do inside all day?"

  "We won't let it happen, Desdemona. I promise."

  Her smile was brittle at the edges. "Even you thought I did it, Tam. There was enough doubt that you would have had to convict me if you'd been on a jury."

  "No! I—"

  She looked at him. "Don't lie."

  He took a breath. "It's a terrible case. We have to find out who did it, that's all."

  Desi nodded. "My sister found some great stuff about geothermal conditions," she said, and explained to him about the lake.

  Tam whistled. "So what are you going to do?"

  "I'm meeting with the reporter tomorrow—and I've been public about it. I hope that strikes some fear into evil ears somewhere."

  "Ah."

  "And," she said, "I think I'm going to contact all the Native newspapers in the country and see if I can rally some political support."

  Her grin was so pleased Tam had to chuckle. He bent and pressed his nose to hers. "In my culture," he said, with a wry little grin, "that is called hongi. Exchanging breath."

  She brushed her palm over his cheek, then kissed him. "I like it." she said. "Can we do it again?"

  "Absolutely." And when they were pressed close, nose to nose, a wild sense of rightness filled his chest. "If you go to jail, I'll wait for you," he said.

  "I don't want to talk about that anymore," she said, then drew back. "But do not leave me sleeping. I hate that."

  He chuckled. "You've been mad all day, haven't you?"

  "Not mad," she said. "I just hate it."

  "Understood." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I have to go tonight. That woman who was at the bar, the skinny one?"

  "Skinny A or skinny B?" Desi asked dryly.

  "Well, you know Elsa, don't you? The model."

  "Oh, good grief. Of course." She rolled her eyes. "It's bad enough your old girlfriend was a beautiful, young blonde. That she's also a recognizable model is a little bit hard to compete with."

  "You have no reason to try to compete. You're fantastic."

  She raised an eyebrow.

  He slid a hand beneath Desi's breast and lifted the luscious heft of it in his palm. "Your breasts are beautiful," he said. "Like you."

  She shook her head. "Whatever. I mean, thank you."

  He laughed.

  "Anyway, the woman? Skinny A, I take it?"

  "Right. That's my mate's widow. The one I told you is having a hard time?"

  "And?"

  He took a breath. "She's sleeping on my couch."

  "I see."

  It was impossible to tell from her face if this news annoyed or bothered her. "So I should go home."

  "All right." She shifted, as if to let him
get up.

  "Are you irked?"

  "No."

  "Sure?"

  She looked at him. "Do you want me to be?"

  He inclined his head slightly. "Well, if you were, I'd have to stay here, wouldn't I?"

  Desdemona laughed. "Call her then, and tell her I'll be furious if you go spend the night with another woman in your house. Apartment. Whatever."

  He pressed her nose with his own again. "Don't start fretting all over again."

  She yawned. "Okay."

  His own body returned a yawn, and they fell asleep, wrapped up in a pile like a pair of wolves.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

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  Desi awakened to Tam kissing her forehead. "I promised not to leave you sleeping, sweet," he said. "Are you awake now? I've got to get to town."

  "I am awake," she said. She touched his springy hair, his angled cheekbone. "Thank you for a wonderful evening."

  "Second of many," he said, and winked.

  Desi wasn't so sure, but she wouldn't argue about it this morning. She was up for a very long jail term. No one should have to commit to that. "Let's take it one day at a time."

  "We're going to clear your name, Desdemona. That's a promise."

  When he left, she got herself together, made a list of the things that needed to be done and headed down the mountain. Her first stop was the Red Buffalo Café, which was—as she had anticipated—stuffed to the gills with locals. Skiers tended to eat at their hotels or at the Re-New, so they could get on the slopes as soon as possible. By seven-thirty, the time this morning, they'd already boarded the lifts, leaving behind the core of Natives and long-term locals, and—as she had hoped—the news crews.

  She'd been avoiding the local hot spots since Claude's murder and her subsequent arrest, finding the suspicious eyes and gossipy whispers too painful. All of her life, she'd looked for home, and she thought she'd found it in Mariposa. To discover that they'd closed ranks against her over a charming ne'er-do-well like her dead ex had been crushing.

  This morning she planned to change that. She wasn't ducking anything or anyone. She would follow her old routines, show up as usual at whatever functions she wished to attend, and to hell with what anyone thought.

  "Morning," she said to the rancher in shirtsleeves and cowboy hat at the counter.

  "Morning, Doc," he said in his ragged smoker's voice. "Heard you had some trouble last night. Your wolves okay?"

  Surprised, but willing to run with it, Desi said, "They're fine. Charles Red Bull and his boys were there, so we only lost one building. Not too bad."

  He clicked his tongue. "They got the bastard in custody, though, eh?"

  "Yeah. I haven't heard any more."

  On the rancher's other side, another man leaned in so he could see Desi around the first man. "I heard they linked it up to Biloxi."

  "Really?"

  The second man snorted. "Yeah, they want to put in some stupid spa or sumthin', anyway. I get tired of the Californians comin' in here. We got to have some land we're not building up, right?"

  Desi nodded, bemused. The waitress came by, a fiftysomething brunette with ropy arms and an impressive bustline. "Mornin', Desi," she said. "We've missed you around here."

  She ordered the pancakes and eggs, her stomach growling from the long days and nights she'd been expending so much energy, and ate them while she read the newspaper. All through the meal, people stopped to ask her how she was doing, if the wolves were all right, if she'd lost anything in the fire.

  Just like that she was back in the good graces of the town.

  Or maybe she'd never been out—maybe her own shame and embarrassment had kept her from finding support in the one place she could count on it: her hometown, the place where she'd found her pack.

  Josh, holding Glory's hand, came in as she was getting ready to pay. "Hey! It's good to see you," he said, touching her arm. "Can you sit with us for a little while?"

  Glory hugged her legs. "Hi, Auntie. I got a cookbook! You want to see it?"

  "Sure," she said to both of them, and went back to a table and sat down. She was expecting a child's cookbook, but it was a glossy guide to thirty-minute meals.

  "I love Rachael Ray," Glory said, petting the front of the cookbook. "I want to learn to cook everything in this whole book!"

  Desi grinned. "You're just not like anybody else, kiddo, you know that?"

  Glory took a deep breath, let it go in a long-suffering sigh. "I know."

  "I heard this morning," Josh said, stirring sugar into the coffee the waitress brought over, "that the judge is going to push to get your trial moved up."

  The bubble of pleasure around Desi's morning popped, just like that. She bowed her head. "Because he's mad at me," she said. She would have cursed, but mindful of Glory said only, "That … rat."

  "We need to look seriously at hiring somebody from the outside."

  "Do you have someone in mind?"

  "Yes." He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and passed it over the table. "James Marquez. A buddy of mine from the service."

  "I'm game. Let's call him." Her phone rang, and Desi answered it curtly. "Dr. Rousseau."

  "Petersons have a colicky horse," Sasha said. "They want you to get right there."

  A sick horse was a manageable problem. With relief Desi said, "Tell them I'll be right there." She hung up the phone. "Colicky horse," she said, sliding out of the booth and clipping the phone to her waist again. She kissed Glory's head. "You'll have to cook something for me very soon."

  "Okay. You can come over and pick it, and then we'll cook it together!"

  "Sounds perfect." To Josh she said, "Call your friend. Get him here. I think I need him."

  As she turned to go, one of the ranchers at the counter said in a loud voice, "Hey, Doc, don't let the bastards get you down, you hear?"

  She turned, and where she'd seen enemies and trouble, she saw a roomful of faces looking toward her in friendship and support. She raised a hand and waited until she was outside to blink away the tears of gratitude that had gathered.

  * * *

  After she saw the horse, Desi realized she was on the same road that led to the judge's ranch, and in a sudden moment of decision, she headed out to his place.

  The day was sunny and clear, and in the exposed areas in front of the house, snow dripped noisily to little rivulets of streams that would freeze and melt, freeze and melt a dozen times more before they melted this summer. At the sound of her truck door slamming, the judge came out of the house.

  "I don't have anything to say to you, Desdemona," he said. "Go on back home."

  "Well, that's funny," Desi said. "Because I have a few things to say to you." She strode to the step. "All this time I thought you really cared about me, and it was just about the land."

  "I gave you a chance to have a good life."

  "You mean by marrying you?"

  "It could've been a good partnership. We had a lot to offer each other."

  Something snapped. "No. I have a lot. You don't have anything to offer me." She glared up at him. "I'm young. I'm healthy. I have all that land that's worth all that money, and now I know there's an aquifer, too. What do you have to offer me?"

  His eyes were cold and hard. "I could have offered you protection, you stupid heifer. I did offer you protection."

  "You just wanted to get laid, Judge," she said, and stepped back. "You wanted a young wife so you could feel like a young man, and if she had plenty of land and money, all the better." She shook her head.

  "What would I want with a woman like you, Desdemona? Even an old man can do better than a—" Words failed him and he looked down her body with disdain.

  Or what appeared to be disdain. What Desi saw, for the first time, was his lust. He wanted her. Specifically her. Her body. Her mouth. Her breasts and hips and legs.

  "Nice try," she said, shaking her head. With a gesture she didn't know she had in her, she tugged the rubber band out of her b
raid and shook her hair free. "You will never have me. Or my land."

  "You'll be sorry, Desdemona," he said.

  Desi shook her head and turned on her heel, headed back to her truck. It shocked her when he came after her, grabbing her arm and pushing her into the truck. His body pressed into hers. "You still have a chance," he said. "Marry me now and I'll make it all go away. Don't, and I guarantee you'll be sorry."

  She met his gaze levelly. "No. Way. You betrayed me worse than my ex-husband. At least I knew he was a player. I trusted you."

  He lifted an eyebrow. "More fool you."

  Desi didn't move. "Let me go."

  For one long moment she didn't know if he would. There was something hot and mean in his eyes, and for long seconds, the possibility of assault was in the air.

  Abruptly he let her go. "Get off my land," he growled.

  "Gladly." Desi said, and jumped in her truck. By the clock on the dashboard, she saw that she had just enough time to get back to town and meet the reporter at the Black Crown.

  * * *

  Tam served Mick Reed a bottle of Steinlager and asked if he needed anything else. The man shook his head. "I'm just waiting for the vet. She's supposed to meet me here at noon."

  "Is that right."

  "You think she killed him?" Reed asked, lifting the beer. "Her husband? Sounds like he was a bastard."

  "That he was. But she didn't kill him. I don't know who did, but somebody needs to find out."

  Desi blew in, a little breathless, her cheeks flushed. She took the stool next to the reporter and cocked her finger toward Tam. He grinned, feeling about fifteen and delighted to be singled out. She stood on the racks of the bar and leaned over the bar and kissed him. "That's so everybody knows I'm your girl, all right?"

  He chuckled. "All right. I'm glad to let them know it. You want something? Coffee? Sandwich?"

  "No." She grinned at him, then at the reporter. "Let's get started. I have a feeling there might be trouble, and I want this all out in the open."

  Reed flipped his notebook to a clean page. "Go."