Authors: Cara Ellison
It shocked him. His heart suddenly felt like it was going to crack open.
I love you.
He had never uttered those words to anyone before, a fact that Shelby had reminded him numerous times. He held them back, kept them precious in reserve for the woman for whom he had no doubts. And they sprang, quite suddenly, to his heart. He had to grit his teeth to prevent them from coming out of his mouth. Not now, not like this.
The realization added another dimension to his awe of the situation. Aimee was precious and she trusted him. He better fucking be worthy of it.
He held the thick head of his cock against her slick entry, wetting himself with her hot lube. Mark slid the blunt tip inside, letting her get used to the sensation. She delicately arched her hips, wanting more. Mark slowly nudged and prodded his way inside by slow degrees
making her sigh and stretch. She was wet and soft from her previous orgasm, but it was still a snug fit.
He ran his hands down her back, dazzled by the contrast of his darker skin against her luminous creamy complexion. The gorgeous sine wave of her waist to her hips was so beautiful. He slowly sank in deeper, coaxing and nudging.
Outrageous. He felt her body flexing and accommodating his cock. He tried to listen to the cues, to hold himself in check, though most of his brain was occupied with the desperate desire to fuck her. Fuck her hard, fuck her into oblivion.
His tightly controlled urge was beginning to take over. He prodded himself in, and she accepted more of him, jerking her hips back eagerly for more with every stroke.
His hands roved over her smooth skin, then settled on the sweet curves of her hips. Pulling her back onto him jerked a little cry from her lips. He could feel the energy gathering inside her, the sudden urgency for friction, and he obliged, plunging in deeply against her core. She went off suddenly, with a strangled cry, her pussy fluttering around his cock. That was all he could stand. His body responded in kind, the orgasm bearing down over him like a force of nature, tearing him apart.
Her arms sagged. She collapsed onto her belly over the island. He followed her down, bracing himself on his elbows so she could still breathe. He felt glued to her. His cock was still hard. His mind was … dim. He struggled to breathe into lungs that hitched and caught.
She twined her fingers through his, then brought his hand to her mouth to kiss the knuckles. He felt humbled by her gentleness, the sweet nurturing that she gave so freely.
He gently pulled out of her, then removed the condom, throwing it in the trash. Aimee looked up, propping her head on her hands and smiling at him. Holy Fuck. She was so beautiful, naked and posed on the kitchen island like a cheesecake pinup girl. Only that smile was just for him. And her wet and dazzled eyes were looking directly at him, through him.
“I was wrong,” she said softly. “That was amazing.”
Mark spun her around so her luminous, delicious, fuckable body was pressed up against him, her beautiful face tilted back and looking into his. “I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
“I know that,” she said softly. She rested her head against his chest, soft and pliant.
The phone suddenly rang. Aimee tensed as he reached over to pick it up.
“Hey,” John Jenkins said. “It’s Larissa’s birthday. I forgot so I’m trying to get a group together for a nice dinner in Whitefish. What do you say you and Lauren meet us up there?”
“Hold on.” He covered the mouthpiece. To Aimee he said, “It’s Larissa’s birthday. Do you want to go up to Whitefish for a party?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay we’re in.”
“Meet us at Latitude 48 at seven o’clock. And sorry about the short notice.”
“No problem. See you then.” To Aimee he said, “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of May and be up to join you in a minute.”
“It’s a deal.” She grabbed her clothes then ran out of the room and up the stairs.
Mark glanced out the window and saw a big black SUV approaching. It was not a vehicle he recognized. He automatically picked up his underwear and jeans and yanked them on, then pulled the shirt over his head.
As he suspected, the car turned toward his ranch, and then pulled into the drive. May began to bark and Mark quieted her, then gave her a treat to occupy her.
He felt nervous. Anyone with the patina of Washington D.C. did that to him these days.
He watched two guys get out, both dressed in dark G-man suits.
The doorbell rang and Mark answered.
In his career at the Agency, Mark had known military men of every rank, and he’d met more spooks and Special Agents than he cared to count. He immediately recognized the expensive suits and fancy shoes on the two men standing on his stoop as the latter.
“Help you?” Mark drawled.
“Hello. My name is Guy Theriot with the NTSB and this is Agent Kevin White at the FBI. May we come in?”
“What is this about?” he asked.
“We’re investigating the crash of United 134.” Silently Mark willed Aimee to enjoy one of her long, leisurely showers that left her rosy and smelling of exotic flowers. Because he certainly did not want her clamoring down the stairs right now.
“Sure, come in.” He opened the door and allowed them into the living room. Guy Theriot sat on the sofa and Kevin White took a leather club chair. Mark took the chair across from Guy Theriot.
Kevin White glanced around the ranch and smiled. “Ranching must be lucrative.”
“I’m not a rancher. That was more my grandfather’s forte.’” Mark said evenly. “So what can I help you guys with?”
Theriot said, “We’re sorry to burst in on you like this.”
Mark didn’t take the bait and say that it was no trouble at all. He just watched Theriot’s intelligent brown eyes watching him back.
“Six weeks ago, United Flight 134 crashed in the Bitterroot Mountains. One hundred seventy people perished. Three survived the initial impact, but one of them later expired at the hospital.”
“Horrible,” Mark said.
“Well, yes it is. But we’re missing one person from the manifest. All the bodies have been recovered except one. We found some footprints in the snow. We can’t say for sure, but we believe the survivor made those tracks as she left the crash site. Your ranch is about the closest place to the impact site. We’re wondering if you might have seen our plane crash victim.” Kevin White removed a slender pen from his inner pocket and flipped open a small notebook.
“That plane crashed a hundred miles from here. There’s no way anyone would make it across the Bitterroot Range after a major airliner crash.”
“Why do you think that, sir?” Kevin asked.
“Because I’m a doctor. The human body can only take so much trauma.”
Theriot eyed him levelly. “I see.”
Mark knew then that they knew who he was. He masked any physical response, but answered simply, “Good.”
“Mr. Spanner, if I can be really honest with you,” Theriot said, “Before we came down here, we nosed around a bit to find out what’s around here, and it seems our great bureaucracy in D.C. thinks you’re an intelligence officer at Langley.”
“I used to be,” Mark replied. “Not anymore and not for a long time.”
Theriot was no doubt thinking that they were pretty evenly matched. Or maybe Mark had an advantage.
“I see. So you haven’t seen our crash victim?”
“No. I haven’t seen anyone unusual.”
Kevin White rose to his feet, his gaze still roving over the living room and kitchen, where something seemed to snag his attention.
“I guess that’s what we need to know,” Theriot said. “If you see anything suspicious, maybe someone in your barn or whatever, please let me know.”
Mark’s heart skipped a beat but his hold training held up well enough that he didn’t flinch. His expression remained stoic.
L
ying to a federal agent was a felony, but he wasn’t going to give up Aimee to these people.
He accepted the business card Theriot offered.
“My mobile number is on there. Call me anytime day or night.”
“Will do,” Mark said.
He walked Frank and Theriot to the door. Theriot looked over the staggered mountains in the early evening, huge, rugged peaks that rose like devil’s teeth from the earth. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “It would be impossible to make it across those.”
Mark almost shut the door, but Theriot looked him in the eye and said, “Unless you have a very compelling reason.”
“Have a good evening,” Mark replied and shut the door. As soon as he turned around, he saw the item that had caught Kevin White’s eye: a pair of white cotton panties on the kitchen floor.
Mark rapped lightly on the bathroom door, waited a beat for her to say, “Come in,” and opened the door to find Aimee at the counter, wrapped in towels. One was wrapped around her body, another around her head like a turban. She was rubbing body lotion into her arms and chest. As soon as she saw the taut expression on his face, her smile faded. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine right now. Though in the interest of our new honesty accord, I’m going to tell you something you won’t like. The NTSB and FBI were just here. Investigating the plane crash,” he said calmly.
She gazed at him, agape. Her face had gone white, and a fine tremble began to shake her elegant shoulders.
“Don’t panic. It might be a good thing to call them, in fact.”
“I can’t do that.” Her voice was surprisingly calm. It worried him. The weird quietude, her vacant look was more disconcerting than if she’d panicked and fainted like a Victorian maiden.
She dipped her chin and began to gnaw delicately on her bottom lip.
Mark embraced her stiff little body. “Tell me why you can’t do that.”
Her eyes were huge when she peeped up at him. “Because Seth will find me.”
“What else? You look like there is something else lurking back there in the recesses of your mind.”
“Just that.”
“Aimee, I’m going to suggest something radical. Maybe it would be for the best if we just confront this head-on. You can’t run forever, you know. And they were just the FBI; maybe they have no reason to connect you to Seth.”
She was no longer listening. She wiggled out of his arms, then tore the towel off her head so her mahogany hair spilled down her shoulders. She dropped the towel on the counter and walked past him. Mark followed her down the hallway to her room. At the dresser, she hesitated, then walked to the bed.
“He’s a dirty cop. I don’t doubt that he can make me disappear if he wants to.”
“You’re not going to disappear. I will protect you from Seth. I know you don’t need my protection, but if you want it, it is here. I will not let anyone hurt you.”
He spoke the words earnestly, in a restrained way that he didn’t really feel. He wanted to point out that he had taken care of her when she was showed up injured and helpless in his barn. He wasn’t about to stop tending to her until she left or insisted he stop. And he was kind of pissed that he had to play this so calmly for fear of making her think he was a controlling asshole like her ex.
She picked up a pillow from the bed and held it in front of her like a shield. “You say that…” Her words trailed off.
“I’ve
done
that,” he said pointedly.
The tone of his voice took her aback; she looked surprised. Mark knew he was being a jerk, but he couldn’t stop. He was pissed at this Seth guy. Pissed for forcing Aimee to run away like she did, nearly getting herself killed, then haunting her even when she was here, in the safest place she could possibly be. It pissed him off that she was afraid, that she wouldn’t just trust him.