The Heart Heist (19 page)

Tom shrugged. "These matters rarely happen quite the way we imagine."

These matters
? Wait a minute. She and her father were now talking about two wildly distinct things. "Uh, Dad, when you asked...I didn't mean...That is, Gary isn't
the one
. The man."

"The man you're going to marry, make a home with and raise children together." Tom nodded contentedly as he continued to fiddle with the wires.

"Just so," Kerrin agreed. "Gary isn't the one. I -- I thought you meant was he the convict, the one the DWP hired. Yes, he is that one."

"Indeed," Tom drawled lazily. "That's what I said."

Vague
, Kerrin decided, sighing as she watched her father exchange the soldering iron for a pliers.
Her father was definitely deep in the vague state
. Then a shiver ran up her spine, a particular shiver she'd discovered meant only one thing.

She turned to find Gary leaning in the open doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Tom looked up and gazed at Gary over his bifocals. His expression brightened. "Ah. Did Matt finish showing you around?"

A half smile curved Gary's mouth. "He would have taken longer about it, but I reminded him he had class work due tomorrow, so he went back to the house to take care of the matter."

Tom straightened from the task upon which he'd been so engrossed that he'd completely misunderstood Kerrin. He took off his glasses. "So, tell me. What do you think?"

Kerrin held her breath. Gary, she remembered, didn't pull punches. She imagined that on a scale of one to ten regarding credulity, Gary would come down a solid negative one.

"I have a couple questions." Gary uncrossed his arms and stepped into the room.

Tom rested his elbows on the tall table. "Shoot."

Gary gestured toward the door, in the direction of the copper array. "Do you seriously believe you're going to hear anything, from out there?"

Tom Horton rubbed a hand across his jaw as Kerrin silently wilted. "Haven't the vaguest idea," he surprised his daughter by admitting. He gave Gary a broad and impish grin. "But it's sure worth giving it a whirl, don't you think?"

Obviously flabbergasted, Gary regarded Kerrin's father as though he, himself, came from another planet.

"Now, why don't you two get on out of here," Tom went on. "This connection's a bit tricky. Need to concentrate, you know. Catch you later, Gary."

"Sure," Gary murmured. "Later." With one arm he absent-mindedly scooped Kerrin off her stool.

As they went out the door, Tom looked up briefly from his work. "Oh, and Kerrin," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting choice."

Kerrin frowned, but didn't have time to study her father's face to figure out whether he was still in the vague or had moved into the incisive state. Gary's arm was firm against her back as he led her out into the floodlit night. So firm that she didn't even experience her usual nerves from a man's touch.

They'd gotten to the center of the array when the lights suddenly sighed off. Gary's arm tightened reflexively around Kerrin's waist in response.

"They interfere with the reception," Kerrin explained. "Dad figured since you've seen everything we didn't need them anymore." Her calm explanation sounded a little breathless, however, with Gary's arm bringing her so close against his hard body.

He kept her close to him as he squinted up at the stars. "You really believe this stuff? I mean, I know he's your father, but you're an intelligent woman." In the starshine Kerrin could see Gary's mouth stretch in a faint smile. "At least as intelligent as myself, anyway."

"At the risk of overturning such a flattering assessment," Kerrin teased, "I'd have to say yes -- a qualified yes. I think that anything is possible."

"Anything," Gary repeated softly, looking down at her.

His eyes were dark pools in the night. God, he felt warm and solid and...good. So good that she wasn't even shaking. In fact, she liked being right where she was, liked it a whole lot.

"Hell, I must be hanging around you too much, Kerrie."

"Why is that?"

"Because..."

The wind soughed gently through the mesquite and the copper leaves surrounding them danced softly in unison. A million stars spread across the velvet sky. All of it seemed to make perfect sense to Kerrin, as though Nature were speaking right to her. She felt a viable part of the whole as Gary drew her even closer and lowered his mouth over hers.

He moved his mouth over her lips in that way he had and all the magic of their first time fell over her again. Oh, this was too good to waste energy panicking, even when he did something practiced and masculine to coax her lips apart. Kerrin had never had a man's tongue in her mouth. Gary's was rough, demanding, and extraordinarily exciting. Her fingers dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders.

"That's right, honey," Gary murmured against her mouth. "Hold on tight."

He kissed her again; deeply, completely, and Kerrin felt herself falling into a dark, warm, and wet vortex. The vortex was inside of her but she'd never known of its existence until now, as it beckoned to her with delicious abandon.

Gary's hands moved across her back, caressing and pulling her still closer, pressing her against his muscled body, heating her through.

"Oh,
God
I want you," she heard him mutter as his lips left hers and made a course down the line of her jaw.

Kerrin suddenly became aware of a number of things at once: that the sensation of Gary's lips against her neck was robbing her of a good deal of muscle and nerve control, that unmentionable, private parts of her were becoming uncomfortably damp, and most blatantly, that parts -- or to be specific, one particular part -- of Gary had become hard and stiff against her lower abdomen.

Too much
. The thought came at Kerrin like a freight train. To proceed with this was to change everything. Not just her relationship with Gary, but
everything
. Her whole life, the entire safe and secure structure she'd built, would be destroyed. She'd become completely vulnerable.

Some of the panic in her mind must have transmitted to Gary because he stopped nipping at her earlobe. With a muffled groan he simply put his nose against her neck and held her. "I know, I know," he whispered. "Shh, shh. I'm stopping. It's okay now. I promise."

Kerrin realized she was trembling in his arms. What in the world must he think of her, falling to pieces over a few kisses? "Gary?" She wanted to explain -- something.

"Hush." His voice was full of remorse. "Damn, I didn't want to frighten you, sweetheart."

Kerrin pressed her forehead to his shoulder. "I feel like an idiot."

"Don't." This command was stern as Gary pulled back to look down at her. His hands grasped her shoulders. "I'm afraid that title goes to me." His eyes were pure darkness, concerned. "You want to talk to me about it?"

"About what?"

"Whatever it was I did that got you spooked."

Kerrin shook her head. What could she say? The idea of sex scared her to pieces, and she wasn't even sure why. Was it because she was certain she'd be bad at it? Or was it because it might change her life?

Gary sighed and brushed a hand across her cheek. "I hope you understand that I would never hurt you, sweetheart. Never."

She smiled faintly. "Yeah, I think I've figured that out by now."

"Good." His voice was gruff. "All the same, maybe I shouldn't have come over this evening."

Her stomach sank. "Why do you say that?"

"Because..." He covered the hand she held pressed against his chest with one of his own. "I wouldn't hurt you, but on the other hand, I'm not made of stone, honey. I've got my full complement of healthy adult male urges."

Her heart took a running dive.

As if sensing her apprehension, he tightened his hand around hers. "It's a fact. The more time I spend around you, the more I want you. And I'm pretty sure one of these days I'm going to get you."

Kerrin stilled. "You think so?" She was frankly amazed by his arrogance, for just a minute ago she'd come to the opposite conclusion. She was horribly stunted in this department. "Um, Gary, I gotta tell you, I don't think that's going to happen."

"Oh, honey." He let go of her hand to press a finger against her lips. "You can forget that. I know you think that it -- whatever it is -- makes you immune." A faint smile edged his mouth. "But I can tell you exactly where that line of thinking is going to get you."

She was truly fascinated now. "Where?"

The stars shone on his white teeth as he let his smile slowly broaden. "Right into my arms."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Matt plunged into the icy water. Every muscle in his body stiffened against the cold, but he pushed forward with all his might. Getting to the island in the middle of the mountain lake was the only hope he had of finding the bomb and defusing it. He didn't have time for cramps. In five minutes the explosive was set to go off. His legs kicked powerfully as his arms lifted and fell with the motion of the crawl --

A sharp, intense pain shot through Matt's thighs. The mountain lake abruptly disappeared. His hands went down to his legs and he squeezed. At his usual spot by the bedroom window, he waited, teeth clenched, for the pain to subside. It did, but left his muscles quivering. Slowly he released the pressure of his fingers.

This was not the first time pain had attacked down there. Over the past few months the mysterious arrow of pain had shot through him maybe half a dozen times. Every instance had scared Matt to death.

Please God, don't make me be getting worse
. At the time of his accident he'd overheard the neurologist telling his parents there was a small chance the nerve damage could get worse. What was left of Matt's spinal column might deteriorate over time.

For three years everything had stayed the same. The thread of control Matt retained over his legs hadn't changed. Six months of physical therapy immediately following the accident -- painful and humiliating -- hadn't done a thing to give him more power in his legs. But at least things hadn't gotten worse. At least he had the use of everything above the hips.

Matt massaged the muscles at the top of his thighs, shutting his eyes tightly.
Please God
.

"Um, Matt?"

Matt's eyes shot open. Elaine Gerard was standing in the open door of his room, gazing at him with concern.

"Matt, are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah sure." He frowned, remembering now that Kerrin had warned him Elaine was coming to clean the house today. Apparently his classmate was planning to make a career of it. She was dressed for the job in a loose T-shirt hanging over old blue jeans. Her ebony black hair was pulled back in a high ponytail.

Carefully, surreptitiously, he lifted his palms from his aching thighs. It bugged the hell out of him that she was here, that anyone from his class should see him in his own safe and private space.

Elaine's gaze skittered nervously away from Matt and she looked down the hallway. The gesture reminded Matt of somebody, though he couldn't think right then of who.

"Um, I finished all the other bedrooms, except for this one. Is it all right -- ? Or should I go do the kitchen first and come back later?"

It took Matt a minute to understand. She was asking if he'd clear out so she could clean his room. Jeez. The last thing Matt wanted was for Elaine Gerard to clean his mess. There were two days worth of clothes resting at the end of his bed, which he hadn't had time to make before Kerrin had driven him to school that morning.

Matt kept his eyes on the pile of dirty clothes. "That's okay, Elaine. It's my room. I'll clean up in here."

Out in the hall, she fidgeted and shifted weight. "I don't know, Matt. This is my job, you see. I want to do things right."

Matt crushed his teeth together. He wanted to her to stay the hell out of his room. Instead, he watched helplessly as she waltzed right in.

"Besides," Elaine said, "I'm about to start a load of laundry and I'll need these." She bent over his clothes.

"Elaine!"

Matt's voice wasn't very loud, but the girl jumped about a country mile anyhow. She straightened stiff as an ironing board and stumbled backward a few steps. Matt could see her delicately shaped throat swallow. "I -- I guess I'll come back later," she murmured, scooting out of his room like a frightened cat.

I couldn't have done a better job if I were Frankenstein himself
. Matt glared at the empty doorway bitterly. He spent the next fifteen minutes quietly calling Elaine every dirty name he could think of as he straightened up his room. He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper, stripped his bed and changed the sheets. He didn't need anyone to give him a hand. He certainly didn't want the help of someone who thought he was a freak. Anger burned through him every time he remembered the terror in her eyes, a terror that was, for some reason, disturbingly familiar.

Just in case the girl intended to carry out her threat and come back, Matt closed the door to his room. Wheeling over to his desk, he got out his Holiday Bomber journal. He scanned his last few entries. No bomb had gone off anywhere on the Fourth of July, but Matt didn't think the crazy dude had given up. He wasn't going to give up until he was caught. Maybe ten minutes passed. Matt closed the book, unable to concentrate.

He was still so damn angry. Only now Matt was rational enough to understand that he wasn't really angry at Elaine. He was angry about the pain in his legs and the fear that occasioned. He was angry he looked like a freak to anybody. And last, but not least, he was angry at himself for losing his temper with an innocent bystander. Matt's upbringing, though unconventional, was good enough that he knew he owed Elaine an apology.

She wasn't in the laundry room, or in any of the other bedrooms down the hall. Instead Matt found her in the high-ceiling living area. She didn't see him at first, or hear the wheels of his chair rolling over the soft oriental rug. Matt stopped by a low wall, frowning at Elaine's face in profile.