Dylan came down the steps behind her. “Listen, Liza, about tonight—”
She turned to him, pasted a smile on her face. “Dylan, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I realize you have a job to do and that’s okay. I’ll follow you to town.” She opened her car door.
“You promised me breakfast.”
“I’m not going to skip town before sunrise, if that’s your worry,” she said dryly. “I told you. I don’t leave till I’m done with something.”
He stepped closer, tugged her around and into his arms before she knew what was what. “That’s just it. I want to know if you’re done with me yet.” His kiss took her right back to where they were before the phone call. Amazing, really. When he lifted his head, she tried to tell herself it was the thin mountain air that had her head spinning. But she knew differently.
“I’m…Dylan, I—” She should just thank him for an interesting evening and wish him a happy hometown life. Something Liza had never had and could never hope to find. Was a bit shocked to even think she might want to. “It’s just that, maybe we—”
“Should have an early breakfast up here,” he finished for her. “Alone. With no tongues wagging.” He grinned. “Except ours, if we so decide.”
She smiled, couldn’t help it. “I’m beginning to see why witnesses never stood a chance with you.”
His smile faded. “Do I? Stand a chance?”
She looked into those eyes and realized she’d never wanted so badly to say yes to anyone in her life. Save maybe her best friend, Natalie. That was terrifying enough right there, and reason enough to jump in her car and race away like a bat out of hell.
“How is it you have no problem giving me orders one minute, then look at me with huge, gorgeous puppy-dog eyes and ask me something like that?”
“Puppy-dog eyes?” He look honestly affronted, then surprised her with a fast, hard kiss. “Ordering you around is much easier when you’re handcuffed and naked.”
She was still trying to get her equilibrium back from that kiss. “You’re getting entirely too good at that.”
“Keeping you handcuffed and naked?”
“Sneaking kisses.”
“Oh that.” He grinned. “Yeah. I know.” He sneaked another one, this time soft and sweet. It took her breath away.
“You confuse me,” she said, not meaning to say it out loud. Or maybe she did. Just to see what he did with it.
“Then that makes us even.”
She smiled. He brushed a fingertip over her lips.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Breakfast. No promises. And no handcuffs.”
He merely raised an eyebrow.
“Surely you can come up with some other way of controlling my wild and willful self.”
The look he gave her then shot straight down her spine…and spread heat from there.
“I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“We’ll see about that.” This time it was she who tucked in, stole a kiss. She’d meant to make his head spin a little, give herself some breathing space, a little control of the situation. But it had snapped back on her, leaving them both with the sensation of having been left dangling.
“How early is early?” she asked, hoping to mask the need and confusion in her voice.
He traced a finger over her lips, pushed the tip of his finger inside her mouth, then slipped it out again. “Sure you don’t just want to stay here?”
She slid from his arms, far too close to saying yes. She might want him, might be confused by the needs he was stirring up inside her, but she’d never regain the perspective she sorely needed if she stayed here, in his lair, so to speak. And she definitely needed some distance. Because she’d heard the same need and confusion in his voice that he’d likely heard in hers. “You go tend to your fire. I’ll be up here when I get up here.”
He grinned. “I guess I had that coming to me.”
She laughed, still feeling shivery with that delectable sexual tension that ebbed and flowed around them so effortlessly. “You haven’t had anything coming to you. Yet. But we can discuss that over breakfast.” She slid into her car before he could do or say something that would have her changing her mind. Or worse, tugging those cuffs from the waistband of his jeans and luring him back to his kitchen.
She gunned the engine and he leaned down, bracing his hands on her door. “Follow me,” he told her. “And put the top up. It’s too cold to have it down.” He leaned the rest of the way in and snagged yet another swift, deep kiss from her, robbing her of the chance to tell him where he could stuff his orders.
She could only sit, dazed, and watch his very fine backside retreat around the back of her car and climb into his truck. “Big-time danger, danger,” she whispered, rubbing her own lips as his engine roared to life.
She put the car into reverse and maneuvered around so she was facing downhill. She tucked her little car right in behind his big old police-issue truck. But, just to be perverse, she cranked on the heater and left the top down. Wiggling her fingers at him in a little wave, she laughed when he paused and looked pointedly out the driver window at her. Finally he shook his head, and she thought he might have been laughing as they headed down the mountain.
Halfway down, she put the top up, praying her fingers would thaw by morning. Making a point was only good when she didn’t have to suffer personally to make it.
Besides, he’d gotten the message.
“Question is, Liza,” she wondered aloud. “Have you?”
DYLAN PULLED OVER in front of the hotel, but Liza buzzed past him and swung into the small parking lot next door. She waved him on when he started to get out.
“Go play sheriff. I’ll see you in the morning. Leave a message at the desk if something comes up.”
He nodded. He didn’t want to. He wanted to follow her inside, up to that room and into the bed. Forget all about his job. All about the meeting with Pearl. All about what was waiting to be dealt with minutes from now.
Because this was no simple motel fire. His instincts were already screaming and he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found when he met up with Tucker at whatever was left of the Mims Motel. He closed the truck door, but waited until she was in the lobby before pulling away.
Normally his mind would focus fully on whatever task was at hand. But as he wound through the quiet night streets of Canyon Springs, his mind was more on what he’d just left behind than on what he was driving toward.
This entire evening felt surreal. And yet he had no doubts—just ask his body!—of what had taken place, or started to anyway, right there in his kitchen. God almighty, what the hell had he been doing up there with her?
Whatever the hell it was, he wanted to do it again. And go beyond. Liza Sanguinetti had cruised into his life mere hours ago, and she was already in his blood. He knew he was foolish to believe she’d really be there in the morning. She’d been as uncomfortable with what they were uncovering about each other as he had, maybe more so. Although if she knew the half of what he’d been feeling back there, she’d know she wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot.
His lips twitched in a smile. Christ, she could tie him in knots with the arch of one perfectly plucked eyebrow.
He swung around the corner, the flash of multicolored lights over the trees ahead indicating he was almost there. Yet instead of contemplating how in the hell Dugan had found out about his little meeting with Pearl quickly enough to send him a warning, and what Dylan was going to do about it, he was thinking about swinging by Liza’s hotel on the way back home. No matter the hour. She wouldn’t expect that.
And, after all, doing the unexpected where Liza Sanguinetti was concerned had served him well up to this point.
He turned the last corner and slowed as he neared the scene. Two ladder trucks were still there, along with one emergency squad. He was heartened somewhat by the fact there weren’t any others lined up. He hadn’t heard any sirens heading out to the hospital on his way in, so hopefully that meant everyone had gotten out in time.
He hadn’t radioed in that he was coming down. That, he admitted, was mostly payback for Tucker not following protocol. Dylan preferred his old friend not be prepared for their ensuing showdown.
“Dammit, Quin, who screwed up on this thing?” he muttered as he swung in behind Tucker’s truck and shut the engine off. He should have made the reservation himself. But Quin had assured him no one knew about the meeting. Thinking how cavalierly he’d had Quin make the reservation in Liza’s name, Dylan felt his stomach roll, just as it had when he’d heard his mother’s message. He knew better than to involve civilians, even in name only. His lips twitched and he shook his head as he got out of his truck. He hadn’t exactly used her real name, as he recalled. Because he hadn’t known it at that point.
He paused and took in the scene, most of his brain already clicking into gear, processing information, noticing details, filing away questions with which to grill Quin. But as he strolled over to Tucker, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what the assembled group would think if they’d known what their sheriff had been up to before being called in.