Scout's Honor (13 page)

She could drown in those eyes, Anna thought,
her nervousness melting away under the languid heat of his gaze.
Ever since his first kiss her body had been telling her something
in no uncertain terms. She and this man could be magic.

The tux jacket was thrown over the back of
the couch, the French-cuffed sleeves of his shirt rolled halfway up
his forearms. He stood there, his arms hanging at his sides as if
he were forcing them not to reach for her.

Then he broke the intangible contact by
picking up the bottle and pouring the rest of the wine into her
glass. “I’ll get us another bottle,” he said, stepping around her
on his way to the kitchen.

Anna didn’t understand. Something was wrong.
It showed in the stiff impatience of his movements, the stark mask
of his face. She sat down on the couch and curled up in a corner.

Mitch returned and sat back down in the
middle of the couch, closer to her than she’d expected. “Will this
one do?” he asked, lifting the new bottle for her inspection.

She nodded, wishing he would smile. He’d
been awfully serious since they’d come off the yacht. Maybe he was
frightened and upset too. No, that didn’t fit. He’d kicked
Carlton’s ass and come away grinning, more concerned about her than
about himself. Which reminded her . . . She leaned over and picked
up his hand. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he said, pulling his hand away.

Now what? she wondered in exasperation. What
was eating at him?

“Thanks for . . . uh, taking care of
business,” she said. “I’m not sure how it would have turned out if
you hadn’t been there. That was a pretty impressive set of moves
you—”

“Dammit, Anna,” he interrupted her. “Don’t
you understand? Your life was in danger tonight and it was my
fault.”

Oh, guilt, she thought, lifting one brow.
That she could understand. “Look, Mitch. I’m a big girl. I make my
own decisions. Taking risks is what I do.”

His piercing gaze saw through her flippant
response. “Not with your life,” he said.

She couldn’t very well argue that particular
point.

“Nick didn’t plan his party very well.” he
continued, agitation deepening the creases on the sides of his
mouth. “Those men should have been frisked before he allowed them
on his boat. And having the game out there in the first place was
pure hotshot.” Frustration was making his voice harsh. “The gun
took him by surprise. None of you expected it.”

“And you did?”

He shook his head. “No. If I had I wouldn’t
have let you go.”

“Mitch.” She almost reached for him again,
but changed her mind. “I’ve had bad surprises before. This one
turned out okay . . . except for Carlton’s being very unhappy and
wanting to do something about it.”

“Great,” he said
, his hands tightening on his
wineglass. “Now what do you do? Spend the rest of your life
watching your back? I’ve tried it, Anna. It’s a rotten way to
live.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said shortly. He
pushed himself off the couch and paced behind the table.

“Carlton can’t do anything to me I can’t do
to him first—and worse. You . . .” He paused and looked down at
her. “You’re vulnerable. You don’t know about men like
Carlton.”

The way his voice lowered in concern touched
her heart, but she was still confused. “Wait a minute, scout. Back
up to my original question. What do you know about watching your
back and men like Carlton?”

This time she knew he wouldn’t ignore her
question. He was taking his time about answering, watching her with
a mixture of wariness and appraisal, but he wouldn’t ignore it. One
thumb was hooked into a pocket, and the other hand was running
through his hair, sweeping it off his face as he looked at her out
of the corner of his eye.

“I was a cop, Anna. San Francisco,
Chinatown. A case went bad, and it was highly suggested that I take
a leave of absence – a very long leave of absence
.”
He stared at her, waiting for a reaction.

Fascinated, she
leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand, fixing him with a
quizzical look. “Is that how you broke your nose
?”

“That and a few other parts of my anatomy,”
he admitted.

“I never would have pegged you for a cop.
How did you end up chasing bad guys?”

“We’re getting off the point . . .”

“I want to know.”

He eyed her speculatively, then dropped into
a chair with a weary sigh. “Life-story time, huh?”

“Why not? We’ve got all night, or what’s
left of it,” she added, noticing the pale light of dawn breaking up
the darkness. She wished he’d come back to the couch, but she
wasn’t going to push her luck.

“Law and order is a Summers tradition. Dad
was the best beat cop Frisco ever saw. It didn’t get him anywhere
except an early grave, but damn, he was good. So the sons follow in
the father’s footsteps.”

“Is that like the code of the West?”

He smiled, finally giving her the crooked
grin she’d been missing. “Kinda, but Steve decided on living long
and prosperously. He went to law school. I didn’t have the ambition
for it. So I ended up on the streets, and I loved it, maybe too
much
.
” He paused and the smile faded. “It’s an old story, Anna. You and
your partner spend months undercover, putting everything together,
then the bust goes bad, and your partner doesn’t make it.”
Memories
glazed the soft brown eyes, and he shook his head. “If I was good,
Danny was better – until he got reckless. Then it was all over. No
one blamed me, but
…”

“You blamed yourself.”

He didn’t answer, and she dropped her gaze,
reaching for her wine.

“So
what
do you do in Colorado?”

“I teach skiing in the winter and guide
fishermen the rest of the year, and after the first few years, I
didn’t miss the cops and robbers game quite so much.
Steve and I split the profits from leasing our fishing rights.
You’ll get a part of those now from your riverfront acreage.”

She smiled
.
“Income property, just what I needed to round out my
portfolio.”

“And is that all you need, Anna?” he asked.
“A little property to round out your portfolio?”

And there she was, flustered again.

“Our
positions
are hardly comparable. I like what I do and”— she cocked her
head—“I’m very good at it. It’s just that lately I’ve been feeling
as if there should be . . . I don’t know . . . more, I guess.”

“Yeah
.
I’ve been feeling a few pieces are missing myself,” he said, gazing
at her with an intensity that went right to her core. Sooner or
later she’d learn not to underestimate him.

If he’d been sitting next to her, she would
have reached out and trailed her fingers across the worry lines
etched into his face, smoothing them away, easing the seriousness
back into a smile—or soothing it with a kiss. He knew it too. She
could tell by the way he was watching her, searching her face with
an almost tangible caress. He focused on her mouth, then sighed as
he met her eyes.

Tension flowed between them, heightening
their awareness of every nuance of movement and emotion.
Anticipation hung in the air, heavy and sparked with excitement.
Anna’s mouth went dry, and she wanted his tongue to wet her
lips—tasting, giving, taking.

Imagining his kiss, the feel of him in her
arms, caused her to catch her breath with wanting. But she was
afraid to move, afraid of breaking the sensual spell weaving around
and through them.

“Don’t go to Miami, Anna,” he said.
“Come with me.”

His request left her speechless. She
hadn’t expected anything like this, and she wasn’t sure what
prompted his offer: protectiveness or desire. He could fulfill her
need for protection and satisfy her longing, but what did he
want?

Before she had time to think, let alone
formulate an answer, he spoke again, cooling the emotional impact
of his first words.

“Miami is too close to Nassau. For all we
know, Carlton could be based in Miami. I’d like time to check him
out and I’d feel a lot better if you were where I could keep an eye
on you. I’m responsible for this situation, and I
don’t take my
responsibilities lightly. With luck I can get a handle on Carlton
in a few days
.
When it’s safe, you can head back to Miami
.”

Keep an eye on her?

“You
didn’t
seem too hot on going toFlorida
anyway,” he continued, “and
you’ve got a home in Colorado now, your own place. The acreage
comes complete with a cabin. It’s not what you’re used to, and
you’re welcome to stay in the main house, but—” He cut his rambling
short, dropping his hands between his knees and slowly raising his
head to meet her eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, we both know
there’s something special going on here, Anna, but there are no
strings attached to the offer.”

No strings? Was he crazy? Her emotions were
strung out in a hundred directions between wanting him and
apprehension. She hadn’t taken St. John’s warnings to heart, but
Mitch obviously considered them very serious. That alone was enough
to unnerve her. Personal violence was outside her realm of
experience, and she didn’t want to deal with it now. She wanted to
laugh off his fears for her safety, tell him he was blowing it out
of proportion, go back a week in time, and never meet Mitch
Summers.

No. She pulled her thoughts to a screeching
halt. She’d still want to meet Mitch, still want the kiss under the
shower.

“I don’t like being backed in a corner,
Mitch,” she said quietly
.
“What the hell was your brother—a lawyer, for crying out
loud—thinking?”

“Your involvement is my fault, Anna. Not
his.” Mitch’s voice was cool, his eyes unwavering.

“I don’t need this,” she snapped, resenting
how easily he shouldered all the responsibility
.
“Dammit
.” She
got off the couch and headed toward her bedroom

She slammed the
door behind her and
immediately felt like a fool. What was happening to her? Her not
completely dissatisfying life was crumbling around her ears and
there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. If she was in danger,
this was not the time for childish reactions.

She slowed her breathing and listened for
the inevitable shutting of the front door. When it
came she winced, hating herself for
being such an idiot. Ten minutes ago she couldn’t have imagined
throwing Mitch Summers away. More than anything she’d wanted to be
closer to him. He’d shared something important, offered his help,
and she’d slapped him in the face with it. Damn.

She’d give him fifteen minutes and then call
his hotel. He was right. She had no business hanging around Nassau
waiting for Carlton to make a move. The odds weren’t in her
favor.

The sound of voices penetrated her thoughts.
Angry voices. So he hadn’t left. She listened closer. St. John had
arrived. Her hand reached for the doorknob just as someone
knocked.

She opened the door and looked up at Mitch.
His face was expressionless, without a hint of the softness she
remembered in the brown eyes. It hurt to think she’d put the
blankness there. One of his grins was worth a thousand false
smiles, and she wished she had a magic word to bring it back.

She’d never thought she’d make a fool of
herself over a man again, but maybe now was the time to take a
chance.

She opened the door a little wider, reached
for his hand, and pulled him into her room. She didn’t want St.
John to witness what she had to say. Mitch hesitated, but she’d
already decided on her course of action—and it started with an
apology. Her courage was bolstered by knowing that Mitch, of all
men, would be the least likely to throw it back in her face.

The room was dark, and she was thankful he
couldn’t see the myriad emotions crossing her face as she struggled
for a beginning.

“Mitch . . .”

“Anna . . .”

They both spoke at once, but Anna was
determined to say her piece, to give him the upper hand.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s stupid for me
to stay in Nassau. There are a hundred places I can go besides
Miami. I just want you to know that I don’t hold you responsible.”
Her voice trailed off as he dropped her hand and stepped back,
turning away from her.

His voice was a husky whisper in the
darkness. “Don’t do this to me, Anna.”

She could barely make out the dim outline of
his back, his shoulders hunched, his arms stiff, and his hands
shoved into his pockets.

“Don’t run away,” he said, “I can understand
why you wouldn’t want to go to the ranch. You’d probably go crazy
stuck in a dump like Hot Sulphur Springs. But if you want to go to
Monte Carlo or Paris, all I ask is that you let me come with you
until we know whether Carlton can do any damage.”

He turned back around, and even in the
darkness she felt the intensity of his gaze. “I’d go crazy
wondering if you were safe.”

On the outside Anna marveled at his
boundless capacity for opening himself up, leaving himself an easy
mark for rejection. On the inside her heart warmed at his concern.
And, she had to admit, she hadn’t turned him down yet.

She needed one more piece to pull this
puzzle together, and she was tempted to turn on the light just so
she could watch his reaction to her next words.

“You care about me, don’t you, Mitch?”

“I haven’t made any secret about that,” he
murmured, cupping her chin in his rough hand.

She stood perfectly still under his gentle
caress, touched on a level deeper than physical sensuality. “I’m
not talking about attraction. I mean caring.” She wished
desperately that she could see his face. She was taking a chance,
pushing him like this, and her heart started to pound as she waited
for his reply.

In answer he brought his other hand up to
her cheek, holding her face and running his thumbs across her
satiny skin. “That’s what I’m best at, Anna. And since I met you,
I’ve been getting better all the time.”