Against the Fire (25 page)

“You have the softest, most kissable lips,” he said as he captured her bottom lip between his teeth then sank his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her long and deep, kissed her as if he could go on just that way all night. She felt warm all over, her body liquid and pliant, so distracted by his attentions she didn’t even notice when he left her to remove his own clothes.

As he walked back to the bed, she surveyed his tall figure, his solid chest, wide and lightly furred with golden hair, his body so lean each muscle stood out and she could watch them flex and bunch as he moved.

He was hard, she saw. Bigger than she would have imagined and fiercely aroused, his erection riding high against his flat belly. Still, when he came up over her and started kissing her again, she didn’t feel rushed, didn’t feel as if she had a performance to give.

“This is what you wanted, Tracy.” He kissed the line of her jaw, bent and softly kissed each of her breasts. “You wanted me to make love to you and that is exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Sam…” The tears returned to her eyes. She reached up and touched his dear, beloved face. “I think…I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Sam traced his thumb over her tear-damp cheek. “Then my plan is actually working.”

Tracy breathed a sigh into his mouth as he very softly kissed her. She was falling in love with Sam. She had said so and he wasn’t even scared.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Tracy. Whatever happens, I’d never do that.”

“Oh, Sam…” For the first time in her life, she felt as if everything was going to be all right, that at last her life had settled onto its proper course.

Winding her arms around Sam’s neck, she welcomed him into her body with a joy she had never felt with any other man.

Twenty-Four

The kitchen was fragrant with the smell of rich, dark French roast coffee. Gabe had made breakfast this morning. Mattie declined the bacon and eggs he wanted to cook for both of them, inwardly wincing at the thought of all that cholesterol.

But she was thrilled with the nicely halved bagels, cream cheese and raspberry jelly he set on the kitchen table. Gabe put two pieces on her plate and she slathered one of them with cream cheese and jelly and dug in.

“I know Debbie Gleason,” she said as she took a sip of the dark, steaming brew in her mug. “I did some design work for her husband and she and I kind of hit it off.”

Gabe had told her he planned to visit the contractor’s wife today, see what she might be willing to tell him about her husband. “If you want to find out what’s going on with Vance, maybe I can help.”

“They’re getting a divorce. That’s what Jackson said. And Vance has filed bankruptcy.”

“That’s too bad. It’s got to be hard on Debbie.” She smoothed her knife blade over a gob of raspberry jelly and took a bite.

“I thought he was a pretty good husband,” Gabe said, “and fairly savvy in business. I guess you never know.”

“You’re thinking that if Clay turns out to be innocent, maybe the arsonist is Vance. You figure the stress he’s been under might have gotten to him and he shifted the blame for his failures onto you.”

“I guess it could happen. The police are convinced it’s Clay, but I think it’s worth checking out.”

“All right.” She popped the last jelly-coated bite of bagel into her mouth and took a final sip of her coffee. “Let me grab a quick shower and we’ll go see what we can find out.”

A wicked blue glint came into his eyes. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

Mattie grinned when he joined her in the shower, not the least surprised. By the time they got out, the water had turned cold and she was shivering.

It was worth it.

Vance Gleason lived in a two-story brick home in Highland Park. Or at least he had until his wife kicked him out.

According to Gabe, Debbie Gleason and her two young children still lived there. Gabe had called ahead and asked if he and Mattie might stop by for a few minutes. Debbie had agreed. Mattie spotted the pretty brick house with the white shutters and vast expanse of well-cared-for lawn and wondered, with the divorce and bankruptcy, how long Debbie and her kids would be able to stay.

Pulling the Beemer over to the curb, Gabe turned off the engine and they both got out of the car. They made their way up the flower-lined walk and Gabe knocked on the front door.

The door opened and a small, dark-haired woman with her hair pulled back in a ponytail stood in the entry. “Hey, Mattie, good to see you.”

“You too, Debbie.”

“Hi, Gabe. You’re right on time. I admit I’m a little intrigued that you wanted to see me.”

“I hope this isn’t too big an imposition,” Gabe said as Debbie invited them inside.

“Not at all. The kids are in school and as everyone in town seems to know, Vance isn’t here, since we’re getting a divorce.”

“I heard,” Mattie said. “I’m really sorry, Debbie. The two of you always seemed so happy.”

“I thought we were.” She led them down the hall into the great room at the back of the house. Beneath high-beamed ceilings, children’s toys filled a box in the corner and an assortment of kid’s books were stacked on the coffee table in front of an overstuffed sofa and chairs. “Unfortunately, Vance figured he’d be a lot happier with that little blond piece of ass he hired as his secretary.”

Mattie made a face and Debbie laughed.

“You guys want something to drink? Some iced tea or something?”

“Thanks, but we won’t be staying that long,” Gabe said.

“So what can I do for you?”

“I know you’ve been going through a lot lately,” Mattie began, “but maybe you read about the fires that were set on two of Gabe’s projects?”

“I saw it on the news. I’m sorry, Gabe, that’s just terrible.”

“How long has it been since Vance moved out of the house?” he asked.

“He’s been gone almost a month. I’ve been too mad at him to miss him.”

“After he left, did he seem… Well, how was his mental state? Did he seem depressed? Was he angry about what was happening to him?”

“He was glad at first. He got to be with his little hussy. I think now he’s starting to regret what he’s done.”

“What about the bankruptcy?” Mattie asked. “How did that affect him?”

“He blamed himself. He said he should have been paying closer attention to business.”

Gabe exchanged a look with Mattie. If Gleason blamed himself, he wouldn’t have any reason to be going after his chief competitor.

Debbie was eyeing him darkly. “You don’t think Vance had anything to do with those fires, do you?”

“Truthfully? No. I think the man who set them is currently in jail. But I didn’t want to overlook any possibility.”

“Vance is an asshole, but he isn’t crazy. And he doesn’t want any more trouble than he’s got already.”

Gabe nodded.

“We just wanted to get your take on things,” Mattie said. “Sometimes people react to stress in different ways.”

“Like I said, Vance is a little screwed up right now, but he isn’t crazy.”

“We don’t want to take up any more of your time,” Gabe said. “We appreciate your talking to us.”

“Hey, with Vance gone, I don’t have much else to do.”

“I hope things work out the way you want,” Mattie said.

“They might. I don’t know. I think Vance is really sorry. And he’s still my husband.”

Mattie leaned over and hugged her. “Good luck.”

They left the house and made their way back out to the car.

“Well, we’ve done all we can,” Gabe said as he slid behind the wheel. “While you were getting dressed this morning, I called Thomas Daily and told him about my chat with Carlton Webster. I don’t think he was particularly interested. The police have their suspect. Apparently Clay hasn’t got an alibi for the nights of either fire. Says he was in his motel room asleep. Unless something else happens, he’s going to stay in jail.”

“I’m sorry it turned out to be your friend.”

“I’d really like to talk to him, see what he has to say, but he refuses to see me.” He stuck the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.

“At least he’s not still out there roaming the streets.”

“Yeah, there is that.”

“Maybe this is finally over.”

Gabe pulled away from the curb. “Maybe. Speaking of which, your vacation is almost over and you’ll be going back to work. What do you say we fly up to the ranch this afternoon and spend the night? If something new turns up, we can be back in a couple of hours.”

“You own a ranch?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s only three hundred acres but it’s the place I feel most at home.” He reached down and caught her hand, brought it to his lips. “I’d really like you to see it.”

A little curl of heat tugged low in her belly. Her mind replayed all the conversations she’d had with herself about not getting more involved with Gabe.

“Come on. It’s only one night and we deserve it.”

Dammit, she wanted to go.

“All right,” she heard herself say. “I’d love to see your ranch.”

Gabe took Mattie back to his condo to pack an overnight bag, making sure she threw in a pair of jeans and sneakers. She could change out of the floaty little flowered sundress and sandals she had worn to Debbie’s once they got to the ranch.

On the way to the airport they stopped by the hospital, but there was no change in Angel’s condition. Gabe waited while Mattie sat with the boy for a while, talking to him as if he were awake and encouraging him to get well. Then they left for the private airstrip south of Dallas where he kept his twin Aerostar, one of his favorite possessions.

“You know what they say about the difference between men and boys,” Mattie said as Gabe tossed her bag aboard, helped her into the cockpit and settled her in the copilot’s seat.

“The only difference is the size of their toys?” he teased with a wicked grin.

Mattie laughed. “No, it’s the cost of their toys, you rogue.”

Gabe just laughed. Walking beside the red stripe down the side of the plane, he made his final inspection, then climbed aboard and settled himself in the pilot’s seat. A few minutes later, they were rolling down the tarmac.

“How often do you get to fly?” Mattie asked as they left the ground and began to skim over the patchwork pattern of farms and ranches below, lots of green and the occasional gleam of water.

“Not often enough. I head up to my brother’s place in Wyoming a couple of times a year and get to the Hill Country as often as I can, but I’m usually busy working.”

“I know what you mean,” Mattie said, leaning back in the butter-soft-cream leather seat.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” The plane carried five passengers comfortably, though he had never hauled that many people at one time.

“I’ve never given it much thought,” Mattie said. “I work to support myself, to have the things I want and put enough away to take care of myself when I get older.”

“Sometimes I think maybe I should take the time to enjoy a little more of the here and now.”

“Give up your business, you mean?”

“I wouldn’t do that. I was thinking more about taking time to have a family, raise a couple of kids.” He watched her from the corner of his eye. “You wanted a baby once. You’re still young enough to make that happen.”

Mattie turned her gaze out the window. “I haven’t thought about it lately.”

“Maybe it’s time you did.”

She made no reply, and the hum of the engines filled the cabin.

Gabe didn’t say more. He was afraid she would feel boxed in, afraid she would stop seeing him if he pressed her for a more serious relationship.

But he had started to think that he wanted just that, had begun to think of Mattie as his woman, the one he wanted by his side over the years. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, couldn’t seem to stop wanting her.

And he was coming to believe that wasn’t going to end.

After less than two hours in the air, the plane landed at a small strip south of Kerrville and taxied to the condo hangar he’d bought to store it in whenever he came to the ranch. He kept an old Jeep at the airstrip, and they drove along the curvy Hill Country roads till he reached the turnoff for Rolling Acres, the name that had been burned into the weathered sign on the property when he’d bought it.

“The land around here is beautiful,” Mattie said as they drove down the narrow, bumpy road to the house. “I don’t get out in the country often enough.”

“Neither do I, but I sure enjoy it while I’m here.”

He pulled up in front of his white, Spanish-style ranch house with its red-tiled roof, and turned off the engine. He helped Mattie down from the Jeep, then carried her overnight bag inside.

She paused in the entry that opened into the tile-floored living room.

“Oh, Gabe. This is exactly how I pictured the house you would live in. Western paintings on the walls, bright-colored serapes over the furniture, wildlife bronzes on the tables. I can see now what you meant—this is really your home.”

He didn’t try to hide the pleasure he felt at her words. “I’d be here full-time if I could figure out how to make a living.” He had put away money enough to retire when he was ready, but he was still building his nest egg and the truth was he liked what he was doing. He wasn’t ready to quit.

Mattie ran her hands over the back of the brown leather sofa, gently picked up and admired the hand-painted Indian pottery jar on the roughhewn table next to an overstuffed chair upholstered in a colorful Indian print.

Gabe watched those slender fingers carefully glide over each piece of artwork, thought how good it would feel to have them skimming over his body, and his groin tightened.

The housekeeper had filled the fridge, freshened the sheets and towels and, at his instruction, left for the next two days. Pedro Vasquez, who took care of the horses while Gabe was away, wouldn’t return until late tomorrow evening.

Seeing Mattie there in his house, looking so pretty and feminine and exactly as if she belonged there, sent a wave of desire sliding through him. His blood began to pulse, pool thick and heavy in his loins. He was hard when he turned her into his arms and settled his mouth over hers, felt the softness of her lips under his. Mattie made a little mewling sound in her throat and slid her tongue into his mouth. Her nipples tightened into firm little buds against his chest and her hands slid up around his neck.