“What about you?” he demanded, circling the hardened peak with his tongue.
“What?” Her voice was distracted as she trembled beneath his teasing strokes.
He kissed a path to her other breast.
“Are you sorry you approached me?”
She arched against him, her head tilting back to allow her curls to tumble down her back in a blaze of gold.
So beautiful.
“I’m not sorry,” she assured him. “I knew from the beginning we could make a great team.”
His hands lowered to unfasten her jeans, pulling them down her legs along with the tiny wisp of fabric that served as her underwear.
“Team—I like the sound of that,” he murmured. “Of course, I get to be the coach.”
Her lips twitched, her eyes dark with desire. “Why do you get to be the coach?”
“Because I have the right equipment.”
She released a startled laugh that turned to a groan as he used the tips of his fingers to trace her slender curves. At the same time, he allowed his gaze to take a lingering survey of her naked body.
He released a slow breath. She was just as exquisite as he’d known she would be.
Firelight danced over her skin, revealing the soft, rounded breasts tipped with rosy nipples. The curve of her waist that flared to the slender width of her hips. And the trim legs that were the perfect length to wrap around his waist once he was buried deep inside her.
Obviously, it’s true. Great things do come in small packages.
As much as he wanted to spend the next few hours simply appreciating her beauty, there were things he wanted to do more.
The sooner the better.
Kicking off his shoes, Griff stripped and allowed his clothes to drop to the blanket.
Carmen’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of his hard, flagrantly aroused body. He smiled, using her distraction to his advantage as he pressed her back against the blanket.
She instinctively grabbed his shoulders, her hair a golden halo around her flushed face and her eyes glowing with passion. A lethal tenderness squeezed his heart. She looked young and vulnerable and utterly edible.
Yes, edible.
The thought passed through his mind as he tugged her legs gently apart and then moved to kneel between them. Carmen held out her arms in invitation, then blinked, momentarily confused as he remained on his knees, his gaze roaming over her silky pale skin.
“Is something wrong?” she demanded.
“Everything is perfect,” he assured her.
Holding her gaze, he gently pushed her legs apart, allowing him access to her most intimate secrets.
Her lashes fluttered, but at last she gave a small nod and he leaned forward so he could settle between her legs. The sweet scent of her teased at his nose, and with a low groan, he angled his head to run his tongue through her moist heat.
Carmen made a choked sound of bliss, her fingers threading through his hair as her toes curled into the blanket.
Griff took that as an open invitation to continue his taste test. He plunged his tongue inside her body before tormenting her clit with short, relentless strokes.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, her breath coming in soft pants.
She felt like velvet beneath his tongue, her soft moans music to his ears.
A beautiful symphony.
“Griff, I want to feel you inside me,” she rasped.
He allowed himself one last, lingering taste before he was reaching out to grab his jeans. With fingers that weren’t quite steady he pulled out his wallet and located the condom.
A minute later he had it rolled on and was moving up to brace himself over the top of her. Gazing down, he studied her with a need he didn’t entirely understand.
Lust, he knew all about.
But this. This was so much more.
“Let me in, Carmen,” he growled.
A smile curved her lips. The smile of a siren.
She reached down to circle his arousal with her fingers, positioning him at the entrance to her body.
“I’ m not stopping you,” she told him.
“I don’t mean your body.”
Holding her gaze, he slowly pressed himself deep inside her. There was a shocked moment as they both adjusted to the shattering bliss. She was hot and wet and tight around his erection. They groaned in unison.
Like a rising crescendo in their glorious symphony.
Holding her gaze, he started to move. Slowly at first, then gaining speed as her legs wrapped around his waist and her fingers tangled in his hair.
“Griff,” she muttered, her breath coming in small pants.
He leaned down, kissing her with a maddened sense of urgency.
“Let me in,” he demanded.
* * *
Carmen woke to find herself tightly wrapped in Griff’s arms. He’d made love to her twice more before he’d added wood to the fire and found a blanket to wrap over them. Then, they’d fallen into an exhausted slumber.
A perfect, glorious night.
One that Carmen didn’t regret for a minute.
His gentle caresses. The slow, delicious kisses. The feel of his hard body covering her as he thrust deep inside her.
But even as she savored the memory of their sizzling passion, a part of her shied away from the words he continued to whisper in her ear.
Let me in.
She knew what he was asking. And she knew the danger if she gave in to his demands. She’d accepted that she could trust him with her life. And even her body.
But her heart?
That was something she didn’t allow anyone to touch.
Which was why she wiggled out of his arms and headed toward the shower as soon as she woke. She wasn’t in the mood for any postmortems.
Thankfully, her panicked flight clearly warned Griff not to press the issue. After his own shower they shared a breakfast of frozen waffles. Not the finest meal, but at least she had plenty of hot, black coffee.
Once they were done eating, Carmen shuffled through her grandfather’s desk until she found the number for the local auto shop.
The owner answered on the seventh ring. In this area a small business didn’t have secretaries. Or answering machines. On the other hand, the owner easily remembered being called to haul a stuck vehicle out of the road.
Five minutes later she ended the call and turned to meet Griff ’s curious gaze. He was standing near the window, his lean face bathed in the pale, winter sunlight. Her stomach clenched, raw desire blasting through her.
Obviously, one night in his arms wasn’t enough.
Not nearly enough.
“Well?” he demanded, thankfully unaware that she was imagining the pleasure of urging him out of his sweater and jeans so she could run her fingers over his naked body.
She gave a shake of her head, forcing herself to concentrate on her recent conversation with the mechanic.
“You were right,” she told him.
She half expected a smug reaction. Instead, he merely nodded. Griffin Archer was a man who was used to being right.
“Someone called to be pulled out?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get a name?”
“John Smith.” She held up her hand. “And, before you ask, he paid in cash.”
Griff ’s jaw tightened with frustration. “Of course he did. What about a description?”
She grimaced. “Average height and weight. Nothing that made him stand out.”
“Hair color?”
“He was wearing a hat.”
Griff took a step toward her. “Did he at least get his license number?”
She shrugged. “No, but he did say that he was driving a white Ford Focus.”
Griff made a sound of disgust. “What do you want to bet it was a rental?”
Carmen heaved a sigh. “Another dead end.”
He drummed his fingers on the side of his leg, his expression distracted as he tried to consider the be
st way to track down the intruder.
“I’ll run a search through the car rental agencies in Louisville,” he said. “We might get a lucky hit.”
“The mechanic said he came out the day before Thanksgiving,” she told him. “He remembered because he had to pull out two other cars who were in the area for a funeral.”
“So it happened before you received the photos.”
Her brow furrowed. “Do you think that’s important?”
Before he could answer there was the buzzing sound of a phone on vibrate.
“Hold on,” he murmured, pulling his cell out of his pocket. He glanced toward the screen, his lifted brows indicating surprise. He turned to walk into the kitchen, his phone pressed to his ear.
Carmen stiffened, something that might have been jealousy slashing through her. She was certain she’d heard a female voice as Griff had strolled away. Was it his lover? Did he have a woman back in California?
With a sharp shake of her head, she dismissed her childish urge to think the worst. She was terrified of being betrayed. Which meant it was easier to find a reason to push people away than to trust they might be sincere.
But not even her damaged heart could believe that Griff could have spent the night making love to her and then calmly taken a call from another woman. He no doubt had plenty of faults, but he wasn’t a jackass.
At least not a deliberate jackass.
Almost as if wanting to prove her point, Griff returned to the living room, still holding the phone in his hand.
“That was Nikki,” he said, his expression tense.
It took a second for Carmen to place the name. “Your FBI contact?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
“She needs us to meet her at her office in Chicago.”
Carmen frowned. “The FBI office?”
“Yep.”
A hard knot of anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach. As far as she knew, Griff hadn’t been in contact with the agent since he sent her the Polaroids.
“Why?”
He shoved the phone in the front pocket of his jeans. “She refused to tell me any more over the phone.”
She licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. “That can’t be good.”
He moved toward her, his hands framing her face so he could tilt it back, forcing her to meet his steady gaze.
“We don’t know anything yet,” he said in firm tones.
“Do you think—”
He bent his head, halting her words with a brief, searing kiss.
“I think it doesn’t do any good to speculate,” he insisted.
He allowed his hands to drop and turned to begin gathering their few belongings, which were spread around the room.
His motions were brisk, confident. But Carmen hadn’t missed the unease smoldering in his eyes.
He was just as afraid as she was that they were about to discover those photos weren’t just a hoax.
Chapter Seventeen
December 26, Rural Indiana
Griff insisted on driving. He didn’t want Carmen behind the wheel when she was distracted. Especially not when a light snow had fallen during the night, covering the roads in a layer of ice.
It also prevented him from spending the next three hours brooding on Carmen’s reaction to their night of hot, endless passion.
He hadn’t expected her to leap around the house with sheer joy. Had he? He grimaced. Okay. Maybe he’d expected a leap or two. They’d set off fireworks during the night, for Christ’s sake. That deserved recognition.
But one glance at her panicked expression as she’d scrambled out of his arms had warned him that Carmen wasn’t ready for a heart-to-heart.
He hadn’t even dared to give her a good-morning kiss.
A fact that gnawed at him like a pit bull with a bone.
He’d never thought of himself as affectionate. He liked to touch women when they were in his bed. A lot. But he’d never been a man who’d been into public displays of affection. Women who were forever kissing him and snuggling close when they were walking down the street, or eating in a restaurant, were more annoying than charming.
Now he wanted nothing more than for Carmen to lean across the cab of the truck to lay her head on his shoulder. Or to place her hand on his leg as they traveled through the back roads to reach the I-90.
Good Lord. He was turning into one of those kissy-face sort of guys.
Rylan would never let him hear the end of it.
His dark thoughts were interrupted half an hour into their silent drive. Slowing the truck, Griff studied the bridge that looked like it had been built by the early pioneers. Narrow planks set over a rusty frame with nothing on the side. The locals might feel comfortable with the sketchy construction, but he wasn’t nearly so trusting.
Not when the entire thing was slick with ice.
Coming to a halt, he reached toward the GPS that was built into the dashboard.
“What are you doing?” Carmen asked, blinking as she glanced around.
“I’m looking for an alternate route,” he said. “There has to be a state highway nearby.”
She nodded, leaning forward as if she intended to help him. At the same time there was a sudden squeal of tires. Startled, Griff glanced in the rearview mirror. The road had been empty for miles. The last thing he’d expected was some jerk racing over the icy pavement like he was at the Indy 500.
Watching the heavy SUV thunder toward them, his annoyance abruptly transformed into fear. This wasn’t a teenager with more horsepower than sense. Or a local who’d lost control of their car on the ice.
Whoever was driving the SUV was headed straight toward them. At a speed that meant that the driver had no intention of stopping.
Griff had less than half a second to make his decision. There was no way to avoid the impact, but he could do his best to keep them from being slammed over the edge of the steep bank and into the icy river below.
“Brace yourself,” he snapped, shoving the truck into four-wheel drive and gunning the engine as he turned the steering wheel sharply to the side.
The wide tires spun on the ice, fishtailing the back of the truck so when the SUV slammed into them it sent them spinning into the ditch instead of forward and off the bridge.
Carmen cried out, grabbing the dashboard to absorb the majority of the impact. Griff clutched the steering wheel and continued to smash his foot against the gas pedal. The tires churned through the mud, slogging them slowly forward into a nearby field.
Griff glanced over his shoulder, seeing the SUV come to a halt, the front bumper half hanging off and the headlights busted. There was a brief hesitation as the attacker was no doubt considering whether to pursue them into the field. Then, with another squeal of tires, the SUV was backing down the road at a reckless speed.
Griff cursed as he realized the damaged bumper was hiding the license plate. And worse, the angle of the sun reflected off the windshield, meaning he could only catch a shadowed outline of the driver.
Once certain that the SUV wasn’t planning another round of bumper cars, Griff stomped on the brakes and put the truck in park. Then he swiveled in his seat to study Carmen’s tense expression.
That’d been close.
Too close.
If he’d attempted to cross the bridge, the slightest tap from behind would likely have sent them spinning over the edge and into the river.
An icy fury detonated through him. Not only at the mystery driver who’d tried to ram them into the river. But at himself for not paying attention to their surroundings.
He’d allowed the empty roads to lull him into a false sense of safety. A near-fatal mistake.
“Are you okay?” he demanded, his voice harsh with a toxic combination of fear and anger.
“I think so.” She released a shaky breath. “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to drive when there’s ice on the road.”
“That was no accident.”
Griff heard her suc
k in a startled breath. “You think they deliberately tried to hit us?”
“I think they tried to kill us,” he corrected.
There was a shocked silence as Carmen glanced over her shoulder at the empty road, then toward the icy bridge. It didn’t take her long to realize how close they’d come to disaster.
Her face paled, but she turned back to confront him with a determined expression. Her courage tugged at his heart, even as it made his gut twist with dread.
There was no way he was going to be able to convince her to find a place where she would be safe until this was over.
“Did you see the driver?” she asked.
He shook his head. “The sunlight was reflecting off the windshield. I couldn’t see more than a shadowy figure behind the steering wheel.”
Disappointment darkened her eyes. He knew that it must feel like fate itself was trying to prevent her from discovering the identity of her stalker.
“Should we call the police?”
He considered their options before giving a shake of his head. The local cops would dismiss it as an accident caused by the slippery roads. Besides, they wouldn’t have the manpower or the training to locate the SUV. Griff would bet good money that it was already stashed in a hidden location until it could be repaired.
“We’ll report it to Nikki when we see her,” he finally said. “She’ll have more resources.”
Carmen shivered and he reached to switch the heater on high. He ached to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he’d already failed Carmen once by letting down his guard.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
He allowed his gaze to roam over the empty field before returning to the rearview mirror to keep watch on the road.
“It had to be one of my family, right?” Carmen demanded. “But how would they know we’re here?”
He considered her question. “They might have suspected we’d discovered the truth of the insurance money,” he at last suggested. “The logical place to search for evidence would be your grandparents’ home.”
“The evidence they already stole,” she muttered.
His jaw tightened. It didn’t matter if the actual policy was missing or not. Eventually he would be able to track down the insurance company and get a copy of it. What pissed him off was the knowledge that the bastard had intruded into Carmen’s home. How could she ever feel safe there again?