Set the Dark on Fire (14 page)

Sleeping with her was a mistake. Not taking the necessary precautions, a disaster.

What the hell was he thinking? He knew better than to have unprotected sex. He’d never been this reckless, not even when he was eighteen. Las Vegas was a great place to catch an STD, so Luke had always been careful, always responsible, and always polite.

Another thought occurred to him, one more frightening than the last. She had to be on some kind of birth control. Didn’t she?

He scrambled to his feet and yanked his pants up his hips, working his zipper over his flagging erection. She came back into view, her eyes cool, unsurprised by what must have been an expression of dismay on his face.

Saying nothing, she searched the blanket for her underwear. Luke knew a moment of distraction, because her naked body was … achingly lovely.

He cleared his throat. “You’re on birth control, right?”

“Wrong.”

The air rushed out of his lungs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t ask?” he repeated, dumbfounded. “What the hell did you think I meant when I said I didn’t have a condom?”

Her pretty mouth twisted with annoyance, but she made no reply.

“You let me come in you,” he said, incredulous. “I was going to pull out, and you …” He trailed off, needing no explanation for why she’d held him close. Her orgasm had been explosive.

“I what? Forced you to stay in me?” Securing her bra and panties, she wrapped the blanket around her body like armor. “You’re stronger than I am, Luke. If you wanted to pull away, you could have pulled away.”

Luke clenched his hands into fists. He could still feel her nails digging furrows into his back, her long legs wrapped around him like a vice, and the delicious clasp of her body. Sure, he could have pulled away. He could have spilled on her soft little belly or on the ground, and in doing so completely ruined the moment for her.

She turned over, facing the cave wall and shutting him out.

A maelstrom of emotions raged inside him. He raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, cursing himself for a fool. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so undone by a woman.

Actually, he could. He just didn’t want to.

Living in Vegas had caused him to tire of hedonism early, and the seedy atmosphere had definitely affected his dealings with the opposite sex. In a town full of scantily clad women looking for a wild time, it was wise to exercise caution. Luke had been too staid, perhaps, but he’d never been a saint. The moment he laid eyes on Leticia Nuñez, he’d wanted her.

It was lust at first sight.

She’d been sitting at an outdoor café, sipping iced coffee and reading a book, her black hair in a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, a pair of square-framed glasses on her adorable nose. Her legs were crossed prettily, showcased by a slim pencil skirt, the fullness of her breasts apparent beneath a prim white blouse. The fantasy was carefully crafted, a sexy librarian no man could resist, and he’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

God, she’d been beautiful. And he’d been criminally naïve.

Another image flashed into his mind, one far less pleasing to the eye. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been lying cold and dead on an examination table, her face almost as gray as the stainless steel beneath her, all of those curves he’d worshipped a distant memory, her body as sunken as her hollowed cheeks.

Would things have turned out differently if their relationship had been fueled by something less volatile than passion? He’d always thought so. And he’d never dated a woman based solely on sexual attraction again.

Until now. Although what he’d just done with Shay could hardly be called a date.

Stifling a groan, he sat down at the edge of the cave and watched the dawn creep over the horizon, as raw and pink as a fresh-knit scar. Using protection was his responsibility, and despite the miscommunication, he was angrier with himself than with her. He shouldn’t have started touching her in the first place. He hadn’t intended to take it so far.

Upon further deliberation, he’d taken advantage of her. She was in shock. She was injured. She was vulnerable. The post-coital interrogation hadn’t been well done, either. Safe sex was a topic to be discussed before the deed, not after.

Luke was a man who was always accountable for his actions. He seldom acted on impulse and entertained very few regrets. But he’d done Shay a great disservice, from that inexplicable kiss in the camouflaged shelter to his startling lapse of judgment at the, ah, culmination of their encounter, and he owed her an apology.

Feeling nauseous at the prospect, he hazarded a glance at her. Unlike him, she appeared to be resting comfortably, unmolested by second thoughts. In the hazy dawn light, he could see the outline of her body beneath the blanket, the sweet curve of her waist and the enticing swell of her hip. Her hair was a mass of rumpled blond silk; the cat’s paw on the back of her neck visible through the tangled strands.

Incredibly, he still wanted her.

He wanted to brush aside that soft hair and press his lips to her neck, to peel away the wool blanket and bury himself in her warmth. He’d made a mistake in sleeping with her, but Christ, what he would give to do it again. Really, he hadn’t done a thorough job the first time. He’d barely whetted his appetite.

He forced his gaze away from her, focusing instead on the wall carvings above her head. Now the artwork mocked him with its blatancy, the lips of a woman’s sex so obvious he felt like a damned fool.

Plagued by self-loathing, he lurched to his feet. What a place to slip up. The only time he’d failed to use protection in his entire life, and he was in a fucking fertility shrine.

With jerky, frustrated movements, he pulled on his shirt, which was no longer wet but reeked of smoke. His shorts and socks were also dry, so he put them back on, along with his damp boots. When he opened the pop-top on a small can of peaches, Shay stirred.

He shoved the can at her. “Here,” he said, more gruffly than he’d intended.

She rubbed her puffy eyes but took the can and started eating peach slices with her bare hands, as raw and sensual and unaffected as ever.

“How’s your knee?”

She swallowed a mouthful. “Better.”

“Can you hike?”

Under the blanket, she stretched her legs. “I think so.”

He rummaged through the pack, looking for his cell phone. It was still dead.

“Don’t you want any?” she asked, clutching a piece of golden fruit between slippery fingers.

He thought about all the ways he’d wanted to touch her last night but hadn’t. “No.”

With a shrug, she finished the contents of the can, upending it and drinking the juice. “What about that last power bar?”

He tossed it at her. “It’s yours.”

Instead of eating it, she held the bar in her hand, a crease forming between her brows. He supposed she was planning to save it for later, which was a good idea. They were miles from civilization, and he didn’t want her getting weak or falling down on him again.

After a moment, he realized she was waiting for him to avert his eyes so she could get out from underneath the blanket. Was this the same woman who’d walked around buck naked in the moonlight? “Let me see your knee,” he said.

Wearing a defiant expression, she stuck out her injured knee, keeping her torso demurely covered. He knelt down beside her and unwrapped the bandage, trying to ignore the way her skin felt and looked, like cream-colored silk against his dark hand.

She had a nasty purple bruise but the swelling was down. During his years at UNLV, Luke had ruptured his ACL, so he knew what a more serious injury looked like. “Good,” he said, winding the bandage back up tight.

“Thanks, Doc,” she said lightly. Her eyes burned into his, communicating something far less congenial than gratitude.

Jaw tightening, he stood and gave her his back, allowing her some privacy to get dressed. Feeling a pang that had nothing to do with hunger, he released a slow breath, knowing what he had to do. Putting it off would only prolong the inevitable.

“About last night …” he began, wincing at the tired old cliché.

“Don’t
even,”
she warned.

He looked over his shoulder. She was buttoning her pants. “Don’t even what?”

“You know what,” she said, wrestling her tank top over her head. “I don’t want to hear your lame excuses.”

“I was going to apologize.”

“For what?”

“You were … hurt, and I shouldn’t have … taken it so far.”

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

Luke forged ahead, wanting to get it over with. “I also don’t want there to be any misunderstandings. I’m not planning to stay on, in Tenaja Falls, so …”

She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips, daring him to feel lucky enough to say more.

He knew he was screwing this up royally, but he didn’t have any experience with letting a woman down easy after a one night stand. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re …” Beautiful, sexy, dynamite in bed. “Sweet,” he said. “And it was …” He stared at the blanket on the floor, searching for a word to describe the most mind-blowing sex of his life. “Nice.”

She gaped at him incredulously.

He suppressed the urge to duck and run for cover.

To his surprise, she didn’t start throwing sharp objects at his head. She merely crossed her arms over her chest and arched a dark blond brow. “Honey, if you think what we did on that blanket was ‘nice,’ you must not have been paying very close attention.” Stepping forward, she fingered the buttons on the front of his shirt. “And if you believe, even for a second, that I’m ‘sweet,’ you are so far out of touch with reality it’s no wonder you can’t tell the difference between a rock carving of a vagina and the real thing.”

Luke felt heat creep up his neck. Although he hadn’t heard any complaints from her last night, he wasn’t so deluded that he thought he’d knocked her socks off.

“Let’s get another thing straight,” she continued, “there are no misunderstandings between us. I never asked you to be my boyfriend. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re not interested in filling the position.” Her gaze dropped to the front of his pants, then reconnected with his. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and keep your nightstick to yourself from now on, huh?”

“With pleasure,” he growled, lying through his teeth. “And why don’t
you
do us both a favor by keeping your clothes on and your …” he gestured angrily toward the carving behind her, “…
yoni
out of my face!”

“Fine,” she said, glaring at him.

“Fine,” he repeated, shrugging into the backpack. He should have been glad they’d come to an agreement.

Instead he felt like putting his fist through the cave wall.

13

Shay wanted to plant her fist in Luke’s face.

If he hadn’t acted like such a jerk after they slept together, she’d have apologized to him. She’d just had her period a few days ago, so they were probably safe, but she shouldn’t have told him to go ahead, knowing he didn’t have a condom. She also shouldn’t have panted and moaned and clawed his back like a low-class hooker.

The sex hadn’t been
that
great, she told herself huffily.

What had he called it? Nice.

Bastard.

Gritting her teeth, she loped along, careful not to rest too much weight on her injured leg. Her knee was better, but a long hike was always tough on tender muscles. Her other leg began to ache from overcompensating.

Much of the area they covered was burned and black. The fire had raged hot and fast, burning out as quickly as it started. Charred tree trunks peppered the hillside and a fine, light ash clung to the ground, rising in smoky wisps from their footprints. The wind was low and the air was clear and crisp, several degrees cooler than the days before.

When they came to the trailhead where Luke’s truck was parked, the fire’s origin was immediately clear. The grass on the opposite side was swaying in the breeze, untouched. His truck was also intact, to Shay’s relief. She didn’t want to walk anymore.

Clay Trujillo was standing there waiting for them, studying the black ground at the side of the dirt road. His white Ford Ranger was parked behind Luke’s truck. “I was about to send a rescue team out to look for you guys,” he called out.

“We’re fine,” Shay said. “Cell phones got wet.”

Clay held out a bottle of fresh water for her, his blue eyes showing concern. “What happened?”

Shay accepted the water and took a long drink. “The fire came up near the summit,” she said, catching her breath. “We had to take shelter in the Devil’s Cup.”

He let out a low whistle, acknowledging the close call. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah. A bump on the knee is all.” She stared at the ground beneath her feet, toeing the charcoal-colored earth. “We stayed at the fertility cave.”

“The fertility cave?” Clay laughed, his teeth making a brilliant contrast to his dark skin. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

Shay felt her cheeks heat. Beside her, Luke was tense.

The smile slid off Clay’s handsome face. “Because of the legend, you know. Folks say the shrine brings babies.”

“We get it,” Luke said.

Clay looked back and forth between them. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “You two light up any cigarettes on your way out yesterday?”

“No,” Luke answered, as humorless as ever.

“What about you, Shay? Smoking the loco weed?” He held an invisible roach up to his lips, sucking in air.

Clay was only joking, but Luke narrowed his eyes at her. “No,” she said, giving him a dirty look. “Of course not.”

“Do you think that’s what started it?” Luke asked.

“Hard to say.” Clay waved his hand at the grass-covered hill on the other side of Luke’s truck. “A lit match would have done it.”

“It was arson?”

Clay shrugged. “No chemicals, no incendiary device. No proof.”

Shay glanced at Luke, feeling sick to her stomach. She wouldn’t have believed the fire had been deliberately set if the evidence wasn’t right there for the whole world to see, just a few hundred feet from Luke’s truck.

Someone had it in for him.

“You making a lot of friends in town, Sheriff?” Clay asked.

A muscle in Luke’s jaw ticked. “Tribal police are the only ones who knew where we were going.”

Clay blanched at the implication, and Shay saw a glimpse of her boy-next-door buddy she’d never seen before. A hint of violence lurked behind those pretty blue eyes.

“Garrett knew,” Shay said, jumping to Clay’s defense.

Luke shot her a dark glare. It probably wasn’t a sound investigating tactic to rule out one suspect in front of another, but she’d known Clay her whole life. She’d known Garrett that long, too, so she understood what each man was capable of.

Clay relaxed his stance. “Garrett Snell?” He made a tsking sound. “He’s some piece of work.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He gambles. More than he can afford to lose.”

When Luke glanced at her sideways, Shay gave a terse nod. She knew Garrett’s addiction was a disease, but it was no excuse for him to treat his wife like crap. Before Lori got married, she and Shay had been inseparable. Their friendship had suffered since, because Garrett was a constant sore spot between them.

Luke and Clay walked along the edge of the burned area, burying the hatchet long enough to confer about the origin of the fire and speculate on the lack of distinct tire marks. When they came back to where Shay was standing, Clay gave her a thorough once-over. She must have appeared a little worse for wear, because he frowned and said, “I’ll take you home. Or to the doctor, if you need it.”

Startled by the offer, Shay looked at Luke. He stared back at her, eyes flat, expression closed, waiting for her decision. The two men stood side by side, of a similar height, broad shoulders almost touching.

Shay sighed. She’d had enough male posturing for the day, and it was only 8:00 A.M. “Whatever,” she said, starting toward Clay’s truck.

“Hang on,” Luke said, reaching out to wrap his hand around her wrist.

Her heart, ever foolish, skipped a beat. She turned to face him.

“I need to stop by the Round-Up tonight. Talk to the regulars.”

She pulled her hand from his grasp. “So?”

“I’d like for you to come with me.”

Shay couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask. If Clay hadn’t been there, she’d have told him to take a hike. Then again, no one at the Round-Up would talk to Luke if he went by himself, and she was obligated to help with his investigation.

That didn’t mean she had to let him walk all over her. “Why don’t you come, too, Clay?” she asked. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Sure thing, blondie,” he said with a smirk, opening the passenger door for her. “I can pick you up at eight.”

Luke’s mouth made a thin, hard line. “See you then.”

After he turned away from her, his spine ramrod straight, Shay climbed into Clay’s Ranger and sat in silence while he drove down the hill.

Of course, Clay wouldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. “What’s between you and Meza?”

Shay tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing. Why?”

“I thought he was going to start growling at me, like a dog guarding a bone.”

“He’s a little stiff,” she acknowledged.

“A little?”

“He’s from Vegas,” she said, as if that explained his unfriendly personality. “And speaking of guard dogs, why were you being so protective? I didn’t need a ride.”

“I don’t trust him,” Clay said, looking in the rearview mirror. “I thought maybe he tried to put the moves on you in the fertility cave.”

Shay stared out the window, feeling her cheeks get hot.

“Is that why you asked me to come along tonight? Because if that guy’s been acting like a creep, just say the word, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Trip and fall all over him?”

Clay smiled, amused by the joke at his expense. He wasn’t the most coordinated fellow. “I throw a mean elbow,” he boasted.

Shay smiled back at him. “He’s not a creep.”

“So he didn’t try anything?”

She nibbled at her lower lip, trying to think of a plausible lie.

“He did,” Clay surmised, “but you didn’t mind.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Jesse’s going to flip out,” he said, sounding pleased.

Shay realized she hadn’t thought about her ex in what seemed like ages. It was funny how upset she’d been yesterday when Jesse saw her and Luke at the café. Now his opinion mattered about as much to her as a puff of smoke.

Speaking of smoke … “Jesse already saw us together at the Bighorn,” she said. “You don’t think …?”

They exchanged a worried glance. For the first time since she’d entered the cab of the pickup, the mood between them was strained.

“No,” Clay said. “He’s still hung up on you, but he’s not homicidal. And unless he was following you, how would he have known where you guys were going?”

Shay relaxed a little, resting her spine against the back of the seat. Then it dawned on her that there was one other person who knew where she and Luke had been headed. Someone with a dysfunctional family background, a history of rebelling against authority, and a penchant for playing with fire. Her little brother, Dylan.

Shay didn’t think she needed to see a doctor, so she had Clay drop her off at home. Although she’d been working all weekend, she had duties at Dark Canyon that couldn’t be put off another day. Her plan was to take a quick shower, grab some breakfast, and head out to the preserve.

As soon as she walked through the front door, she was confronted by another set of arduous responsibilities: Dylan was home.

He was sitting on the couch in the dim morning light. The TV wasn’t on and there was no punk rock music blaring. The surface of the coffee table was clear.

“Why aren’t you at school?” she asked, dreading his answer. Please God, not another suspension.

Dylan scowled, drumming his fingertips against his jean-clad thighs.

She put her hands on her hips. “Well?”

“I didn’t go to school,” he said with a glare, his voice gaining volume, “because I’ve been up all night worrying about you!”

“Oh.” She sank into the armchair beside the couch, feeling the wind go out of her sails. “Sorry. My cell phone went out.”

“I thought you burned to death.”

Her stomach dropped. Had Dylan really been concerned, or had guilt kept him awake? “How did you hear about the fire?”

“It was on the news,” he said, giving her a disgusted look, as if he knew what she was thinking. “And there was smoke all over the place.”

Shay closed her eyes, her heart twisting in her chest. Last night, she hadn’t thought of Dylan. She hadn’t considered his feelings. Not once. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, hating the inadequacy of those words.

“Never mind,” he muttered, wiping his palms on his baggy jeans. “Just write me a note for school. I’m late enough as it is.”

“I’ll drop you off on my way to work,” she said. So much for a meal and a shower. “But first we need to talk.”

“Let’s talk in the car. I can’t miss calculus. In that class, I have to actually show up and pay attention to get an A.”

Shay smiled ruefully. She hadn’t been able to help Dylan with his math homework since the fifth grade. She was a mediocre sister, a bad role model, and a terrible guardian. “Fine,” she said, getting up with a groan.

“What happened to you?”

“I hurt my knee.”

“How bad?”

“Not that bad.”

He grabbed the keys off the counter. “I’ll drive.”

She sighed, too weary to argue. The inside of her car wasn’t an ideal setting for the discussion she had planned, but at least she’d have a captive audience. “So let’s talk about Angel,” she said, settling into the passenger seat.

“Let’s not,” he replied.

“Dylan—”

“Look, I know what you’re going to say. I should be thinking about college, not girls. You don’t want me to screw up my future. I’m not supposed to be drinking, or having sex, or hanging out at the Graveyard—”

“The Graveyard?”

“Yeah. And don’t worry, Angel isn’t my girlfriend, and I’ll probably never come close to getting laid ever again. So thanks for interrupting.”

Shay’s head was spinning. “Back up a minute. When were you at the Graveyard?”

He sighed. “Friday night.”

“Pull over,” she said, bracing her hand on the dash. “Pull over!”

Slamming on the brakes, he jerked to a stop at the side of the road, sending a cloud of dust floating around them. “What’s wrong?”

“The victim of the lion attack was at the Graveyard, Dylan. It was Yesenia Montes.”

“Whoa,” he said, raising his brows.

She grabbed his T-shirt. “You know her?”

He shook her off. “Not like that. Jeez.”

“Tell me everything about the night at the Graveyard,” she ordered. “Who you were with. What you were doing.”

He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, deliberating.

“Please. It’s important.”

“You promise you won’t put me on restriction?”

“Yes,” she said easily. She’d never been much of a disciplinarian.

“I was with Chad and Travis.”

The wonder twins, Shay thought. They shared the same pea-sized brain.

“Chad filched a twelve-pack from the Qwik Mart and we took it to the Graveyard. Angel was there with another girl and some guy. I don’t remember their names.”

“What happened?”

“Angel’s friend took off in her car with the guy. Angel thought she was coming right back for her, but it got late …”

“Then what?”

“Chad told her he would give her a ride home if she would, ah, do him a favor.”

Shay didn’t have to ask what Dylan meant. She knew the way Chad’s disgusting little mind worked. “She agreed?”

“Of course not. But we couldn’t just leave her there. She got in the backseat with Travis and I was riding up front with Chad. They were both pretty hammered.”