DESI'S RESCUE Read online

  "And did you have such long hair when you were a girl?"

  "No. My mother always made me cut it. When I left home, I grew it out to spite her." She fingered the end of her braid. "It's too long, I know. I should find some style that would be more flattering, but somehow I can't seem to find the heart to do it."

  "I hope you don't," Tam said.

  Stepping into the clearing by the hot springs grotto, Desi waved a hand toward the jewel of her property. Sunlight streamed down into the bowl surrounded by trees and poked yellow fingers into the green waters, illuminating the depths, setting free an even deeper fragrance of humus and earth and minerals.

  "Ah," Tam said with respect in his voice. "It's lovely."

  Desi nodded, her hands in her pockets.

  Tam took her braid in his hand and gave it a mild tug. "When will you invite me to come swim in it with you?"

  A shiver walked down her spine. She looked up at him. Even that—looking up at the man—was a pleasure. "When would you like to come?"

  He stepped closer and wound her braid around his wrist. "I'm at your command, love."

  Her imagination produced a vivid picture of his body, naked, next to her in the water, the swirl of bare flesh against her own nakedness, her breasts free and swishing against his chest, her hair loose in the water, his hands—

  She ducked her head, closing her eyes tight against the vision. "Not a great idea. Let's just not, Tam."

  "Not what?" he asked quietly. "Not swim? Not … kiss?" His mouth moved very close to hers, and a bolt of something hot and not entirely welcome burst through her.

  And yet she didn't move away.

  * * *

  Tam wanted her. Simple, clear, plain. He moved his nose over the side of her head, her neck and he felt the tension in her body, the jangled disparity between her wish for him and her wish to resist him.

  "I think," he said, touching her ear with his mouth, "that you like control. That you've been calling the shots for so long you don't know how to let go."

  "I do what I have to do," she said, and started to move away.

  He caught her wrist, and she looked up at him, her eyes showing the same slightly hostile warning of the she-wolf. "It's safe, isn't it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "If you're the boss, you never have to lose control. You don't have to care." He narrowed the space between them until she was staring up at him. He looked hostile, aroused, nostrils flaring, but stubborn, too. Not about to give in. "I think," he said, "you want someone to take control."

  "Don't be ridiculous," she said, and rolled her eyes in the dismissive gesture he'd come to recognize was fear.

  He simply looked at her for a moment, gauging his next move carefully. Hands? Yes. With a quick move, he captured her wrists in his hands and moved his body into full contact with her own. The layers and layers of fabric between them did not let him feel much of the shape her body, but her breath caught in an aroused way.

  He bent his head and breathed his words over her forehead. "I think you've been waiting your whole life for a man who is as strong as you are, as fierce as you are and as sexual." He flicked his tongue over the edge of her eyelid. "Am I right, Desdemona?"

  Her breasts rose and fell in a hurried fashion, and he moved his body in a slow way across hers. She did not answer.

  "I think," he said in a low voice, "that you want me to kiss you, that you want my hands and my mouth on you, on your lips and your neck and your breasts. I think you want me to tear open your shirt and see your nipples, hard as pointed little nails, sliding into my mouth."

  She made a sound, a soft whimper, and Tam pressed his erection against her. Her face was turned sideways, her hands in his wrists. Slowly he bent his head to her ear and sucked her earlobe into his mouth, and when her attention was absorbed there, when her arms went lax, he quickly shifted both wrists into his right hand and bit her earlobe with a quick, sharp nibble. She gasped, writhing against him, her voice a low whimper.

  "Yeah?" he said, and circled her ear with the tip of his tongue. With his now-free hand he opened the collar of her shirt and shoved the fabric away, settling his mouth on her neck, making little sucking kisses there. Across her throat, his hand beneath her collar. "I'm thinking you're aching to have me look, that you know we're going to have the hottest, most intense sex of our lives. Either one of us."

  With a quick gesture, he unzipped the jacket she wore, and said, "Look up at me, Desi."

  She raised her eyes, her mouth parted. Her lids were heavy.

  Holding her gaze, he reached between them and fingered open the buttons of her blouse, then with a quick movement, pushed it open. She gasped. Her breasts, unbound, spilled out.

  His head nearly split open. Beautiful, full breasts, tipped with broad, coral-brown nipples that were, indeed, at full alert. His member, already throbbing, leaped in eager delight, and Desi felt it. She moved her thigh, and with the slightest, most delectably inviting gesture, she arched her back ever so slightly.

  Tam made a low, guttural noise and bent his head into the softness, skimming his chin, his cheek, his forehead over her softness. When she wiggled a little, not so much in control as that shimmy would have led him to believe, he very, very lightly rubbed the bristles on his chin over one nipple, then the other. She wanted his tongue and he gave it to her, but only in tiny, flickering sweeps. Hot tongue. Cool breath. Lightly bristling chin. Her arms fighting him now just a little. Tongue. Breath. Tongue, breath. A soft sound panted out between her lips. She arched, wordlessly begging for depth—

  And he gave it, suddenly, suckling hard, and at the same time, sliding his hand between her legs. She cried out in surprise and arousal and wiggled away from him a little, but he didn't let go, just suckled and swirled, teased and suckled and rubbed, ever so lightly, between her legs. "Tam!" she cried. "We have to—"

  He shifted to the other side, repeated the sensual torture. She cried out again, her shoulders straining backward, and he made a noise of his own.

  Suddenly Desi shoved him away, and stumbled backward, pulling her blouse closed. "This is a bad idea."

  He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "Why?"

  "Because the whole town hates me. You don't want to get mixed up in all of that. Because I'm not in a great place emotionally and I'll probably get all needy on you."

  "That's okay."

  "It's not okay with me, Tam. I hate that."

  "You're fretting too much, love. I'm not a girl."

  "I noticed. What does that have to do with anything?"

  "I don't care if people don't like me."

  "You have a business to run," she said, shaking her head. "You don't know how insular this town can be."

  "Don't I?" He crossed his burly arms. "I'm an outsider, too, you know."

  "True. How did you get people to warm up to you so fast?"

  He shrugged. "The pub was welcome and it's known I fought the Hayman fire. And it doesn't hurt to be an ex-rugby player. Americans love an athlete, yeah?"

  Desi laughed. "I'm not sure how many of them know anything about rugby, but you're right about the rest." She flicked a small pile of fresh snow into the warm green water. "It also doesn't hurt that you're big and gorgeous and have an accent."

  He inclined his head. "Never hurts."

  Desi glanced at her watch. "I've got to get this day going. Come on, let's get up and check on Fir."

  With a gentle gesture he captured her braid. "Not so fast," he said. "Before I move one more step, I'm pinning you to an invitation. When can I come and swim. It'll just be a swim, I promise. And I'll even bring some New Zealand beer, how's that?"

  "Tomorrow is Sunday," she said. "It's supposed to snow. Come tomorrow afternoon."

  He smiled and let her braid go. "I'll be here."

  * * *

  Tam felt a wolfish swagger in him as they walked the rest of the way up the hill, as if he were puffing out his chest, his tail high. He had a vision of himself as a cartoon character, wa
ist exaggeratedly small, shoulders and chest and arms oversized, and chuckled inwardly.

  Next to him, Desi was makeupless, her hair simply scraped back from her face into a braid and she wore a variation of her plain uniform: jeans and a red ski sweater with a white cotton turtleneck below. Objectively speaking, there was absolutely nothing about her that should have snared him so completely. He liked her full lips. He liked her dark, guarded eyes. After some covert evaluation, he thought she was going to look pretty great dressed only in her skin.

  But it was none of those things that was drawing him in so much. It was odd, but he liked the way she smelled. He wanted to nuzzle in close to those folds of flesh, snuffling like a dog, and the urge embarrassed him in its elemental directness.

  The wolves were howling as they mounted the last hill, and Desi gave Tam a glance over her shoulder. "Something's going on," she said, and smiled. "Maybe Fir has made her way back." Waving a hand, she leaned into a run. "Come on, boys! Let's see what's happening!"

  Dogs and woman dashed up the path, and Tam hung back at little, watching. She was not fast or graceful, but her legs were powerful, strength in every line of her body. Necessary for her work with large animals.

  When she disappeared around a bend in the path, he halted and looked up at the trees. Over his head. Just that fast, he was in over his head.

  His slightly abashed and pleased and bemused mood shattered when Desi cried out, "Tam! Hurry!"

  He ran up the hill, feeling the sudden burst of pain in his leg. Desi knelt by the fence, and all he saw initially was the slash of crimson staining the snow. It made him think of the rabbit, and he started to smile, thinking it was Fir who'd dragged her prey back home.

  Then Desi raised her ghost-pale face to his and said, "Call 9-1-1."

  And he saw that the blood belonged instead to Alex, the caretaker, who lay sprawled and unconscious, obviously from a blow to the head.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

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  Tam called for an ambulance and police as Desi bent over the youth, tenderly checking him over. "Alex?" she cried. "Can you hear me?"

  He didn't stir.

  "He's really out," Desi said in despair. "Damn." She checked him over. "His pulse is good. He's breathing all right. He lost some blood, but the snow stopped it pretty fast." She looked around, scowling. "Let's be careful about messing up any prints. Do you see anything?

  It had all been tamped down pretty well, and Tam doubted they'd find anything, at least right here. "I'll check the perimeter. Do you want me to do anything else? Bring a blanket for him or something? Feed the wolves?"

  "There's a volunteer who comes in at ten. She'll feed them. And, yeah, bring out a blanket." She looked away quickly, put her hand on Alex's chest. "He did not deserve this," she said fiercely.

  "No," Tam agreed. "Neither of you did."

  He walked carefully along the fence, conscious of the wolves watching him. The big one sat in an alert position atop one of the low wooden structures in the clearing, and Tam fancied he could feel the sharp gaze boring into his neck, as if the creature were tattooing him.

  There was no fresh snow, but Tam carefully noted any footprints, anything that looked fresh. Along the repaired section of fence were extra prints, but he thought those were Desi's and his own from the day before. He ducked around the far end of the border, which was nestled more deeply in the trees, and he saw a line of tracks going up the hill. Smallish tracks, a woman or small man. They followed the footprints of a wolf or a dog, and Tam figured they were from Desi following Fir.

  As far as he could tell, there were no others. Which only meant they'd used the road. He didn't have the expertise to make sense of tire treads, but surely the sheriff did, even in a little town like this. Alex had nearly been killed.

  The ambulance pulled up, lights flashing, siren silent. Tam jogged around the fence back to the spot where Desi cared for Alex. Desi explained that she'd just arrived here and found him. No idea when it happened or who could have done it. Tam saw that she was struggling not to cry, and he touched her shoulder. "Go with him downtown. I'll wait for the sheriff and do whatever else you need done."

  "Tam, are you—"

  "Sure? Yeah." A murderous feeling was in his throat. "Tell me what to do."

  "Just wait for the sheriff."

  "What about the wolves?"

  She looked at the enclosure. "You can go give the baby some attention if you want. He's in the main building. Lisa will feed the others when she gets here."

  Tam nodded, examining her face. A red blotch marked her forehead, and he thought she was fighting back tears. Her life had not been easy these past months. He wished he could build a wall around her, keep her safe. He touched her arm. "Find me later, yeah? Let me know how things are going."

  Her nostrils flared. He wanted to move toward her, comfort her, take some of that burden on his strong shoulders, but sensed she would not, in that moment, welcome his overture. Her control was too thin.

  "I will," she said, her voice raw. She climbed into the ambulance with the EMT and Alex. Watching it leave in the gilded morning, Tam felt a slight sense of disorientation. How could something so evil arrive on such a beautiful day?

  Against his hip, his cell phone rang. He carried it simply for the sake of safety when he ran or snowshoed in the backcountry. He didn't recognize the number on the screen and answered roughly. "Tam here."

  "It's me, Desi," she said. "I left my cell phone on the counter of my house. Will you bring it down the mountain?"

  "Yeah, sure." He frowned. "How'll I get in?"

  "It's not locked," she said. "And don't lecture."

  "No," he said. "I won't."

  "Look around for Fir, will you? And you can feed the baby if you want. There's pureed meat in a yellow bowl in the fridge."

  "It's done," he said. A well-fitted SUV with police lights on rocked up the drive, and Tam said, "I have to go now. The sheriff is here."

  * * *

  Desi sat in a chair covered with orange faux leather and examined the lines in her palms. The life line, thick as a rope and unbroken from top to bottom. The love line—hahaha—jagged and looped until it hit the middle of her palm. The child lines along the outside—one, two, three. Fat chance of that. She and Claude had tried and tried and tried. She had desperately wanted children, and the tests had shown nothing wrong with either one of them, so it must have been some psychological issue.

  Don't think.

  She refocused on her hands. The knotty knuckles. The short, functional fingernails. The broad palm.

  The doctors had taken one look at Alex and rushed him into the mysterious recesses of the hospital. His family all lived on the other side of the mountain, but she'd called them on the way down. Helene was his aunt—or something. She wasn't quite sure. Alex called Josh his uncle and Glory his cousin, but sometimes those were looser designations than they were in the Anglo world.

  Anyway.

  In the background played a television. Dancing mops skidded over a sparkling floor, and Desi glared at it with annoyance. What inanity! Who could care about such things?

  The front door to the clinic swished open and two deputies, dressed in the Mariposa County official green, came in. Desi was relieved to see her nemesis Gene Nordquist was not one of them. One was Jimmy Rineheart, with his bowling balk belly. The other was a glum-looking man with eyes like a basset hound. Desi couldn't remember his name, but he'd been kind enough to her when she was in jail for several days last November. She stood up and shook their hands.

  Jimmy raised a thumb toward the emergency room. "I'm going to see what I can find out from the medical folks," he said. "Be right back."

  Desi nodded. She hoped he brought back some real news about Alex's condition. A ripple of dread moved through her belly, and for a moment she thought she might be sick. Sitting down, she said to the other deputy, "Did you talk to Tam?"

  "Is that his name, the Australian?"

  "
He's a New Zealander."

  "You don't say." Basset Hound's gold tag said Deputy-Sheriff Brian Moore. He opened a notebook and flipped it until he came to a page thick with scribbling. "Need to ask you a couple more questions, if you don't mind, Ms. Rousseau."

  "Doctor."

  He raised doleful eyes. "Pardon me?"

  "It's Dr. Rousseau," she said.

  "Oh, sorry." He settled beside her, his long legs making her think of a grasshopper ready to spring. "You found the boy this morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you hear anything overnight?"

  "Not at all."

  "Does Alex have any enemies?"

  Frustration welled in her. "No. He's really a good kid. He has family all over town and the rez. He works hard. He has a steady girlfriend. All that stuff." She took a breath. "It wasn't about him. Someone wants my land. They cut the fence yesterday and one of the wolves escaped and now this."

  The deputy nodded gravely, looking down at his paper. She noticed he didn't write anything down. He'd already got this much. "Thing is, we don't really know what to do, Dr. Rousseau. There's not much evidence we can use to track your vandal."

  "So, I have to just live with this? Alex could have been killed!"

  "No, no. I'm not suggesting that at all. I was thinking more like—" he rubbed his nose "—maybe you need to install some cameras."

  "Oh! That's a good idea, Officer Moore." She pressed cold fingers to the top of her eye. "In the meantime, do you think there might be enough evidence to show there's harassment and I might not be the one who killed my husband?"

  He blinked. Slowly. "You think it's all related."

  "Yes."

  "Well, you'll have your day in court. Soon, isn't it?"

  "Not that I know of," Desi said. A point of contention, that they still had not officially charged her, nor cleared her. Her lawyer insisted it was better to leave it like this for the time being, and selfishly, Desi wanted to be part of her sister Juliet's wedding before the trial took place. If she was convicted of Claude's murder—however wrongly—she wouldn't get to weave flowers into Juliet's hair on her wedding day.