To Love & Protect Her (12 page)

“I have some back at the cabin.” He swept her
into his arms again and kissed her. “Why don't we go back?”

“Yes,” she said, and sat up. Her shirt fluttered open, and she pulled it hastily together. Griff reached out and rebuttoned it, and her heart speeded up when she saw that his hands weren't quite steady.

“Let's go.” He quickly stuffed the blanket back into his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he took her hand and they headed back through the trees.

Neither of them spoke as they walked to the cabin. Desire still hummed along her nerves, making her shaky and weak. Griff looked everywhere but at her. When they reached the edge of the clearing, he squeezed her hand, then let her go. “Wait here for a minute. I'll be right back.”

He disappeared around the corner of the cabin, then reappeared less than a minute later. Taking her hand, he gave her a smile. “Everything's okay.”

But when they walked into the cabin and locked the door behind them, he didn't sweep her into his arms immediately. Instead, he took her hand and led her over to the couch by the fireplace.

“What's wrong?” she asked, because she saw in his face that something was.

“Nothing's wrong,” he said slowly. “But there are some things you need to know before we make love.”

“I know all I need to know about you.” She took his hand. “Nothing else matters.”

“I want to tell you about my job.” He held on to her hand, but he didn't look at her. “You were right
earlier. I owe it to my family to tell them, and I owe it to you. You have a right to know what I do, Willa.”

“You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not. It's not going to make any difference in how I feel about you.”

At that he did turn to look at her, and his face was somber. “Don't say that until you hear what I have to tell you.”

“All right, tell me about your job.” She settled back against the cushions of the couch, but she didn't let go of his hand.

He looked away and stared at the fireplace and the ashes of their fire from the night before. “I work for British Intelligence,” he said after a moment. “I'm what they call a covert investigator. I work undercover, sometimes for months at a time. My job is to infiltrate groups that we consider dangerous and extract information from them.”

“It sounds very dangerous.”

“It's a dirty, ugly job,” he said. “Do you understand what it is that I do? I make people believe I'm their friend, that I believe in their cause, and then I betray them. I watch them get arrested and sometimes I watch them get killed. And I've killed people myself when I've had to.”

She stared at him for a moment, then she reached out and touched his face. “And how many deaths have you prevented?” she finally asked.

“That's not the point—”

“Yes, it is the point. We all want to live in freedom, to take our democracies for granted. But we
can't do that unless there are people like you, willing to risk their lives to keep the rest of us safe. If there weren't people like you, we'd be at the mercy of every fanatic in the world, every fringe group with a grudge. We would live with fear every moment of every day. I don't know why you feel you're dirty or tainted,” she said, her voice fierce. “The rest of us should be thanking you for what you do, every single day that we wake up in a free country.”

Slowly he shook his head, but the lines on his face had eased. “You're choosing not to understand.”

“I understand just fine. I'm sure that some of the things you do are ugly and would horrify me. I'm sure you could tell me things that would give me nightmares for months. But I'm just as sure that you're a good man, and an honorable one. Your job isn't going to change the way I feel about you. I'm proud of you for what you do.”

The hardness disappeared from his eyes. He cupped her head in his hands and leaned forward to kiss her. “You're too good to be true, Willa. I'm going to have to hold onto you tightly, to make sure you don't disappear on me.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Fortune. And you can take that to the bank.”

He grinned. “I suspect that's American slang. But I think I like the sound of it.”

He bent to kiss her again, and she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. His kiss tasted of desperation, and she knew he expected her to turn away from him. Not only did they come from
different countries, they came from different worlds. She knew nothing about the shadowy, dangerous world he inhabited. And he was about as far from a college professor as he could be. Logically, sensibly, she and Griff didn't belong together.

But she wasn't feeling very sensible. And Griff's arms around her, his mouth on hers, made her feel as if she'd finally come home.

She had always been cautious and careful, both in her personal and professional life. She had always believed that relationships developed slowly, with care and nurturing. But she had never felt this wild need before. No one had ever stirred her blood the way Griff did. She had never wanted anyone more.

“Let me make love with you,” he murmured into her mouth. “Let me touch you and taste you and lose myself in you.”

She leaned back and opened her eyes and saw the need in his face. “Yes.”

He rose from the couch and scooped her up into his arms, then carried her into the bedroom. He let her slide down the length of his body, then he yanked back the quilt from the bed. She reached up to unbutton her blouse, but he gently drew her hands away.

“Not yet.” He kissed her palms, his mouth lingering until she trembled, then he gently let her go. “Don't move. I'll be right back.”

He hurried out of the room, returning in a moment to set a handful of foil packets on the table next to the bed. She stared at them, then looked at Griff, a
slow smile gracing her mouth. “I like the way you think.”

“I've wanted you for a long time, Willa.”

He fisted the material of her blouse in his hands and bent to kiss the hollow above her collarbone. When she shivered in response, he began to unbutton her blouse. It fell away with a whisper, and he moved his mouth slowly down to her chest. Her bra disappeared next, then he feathered his hands across her breasts.

Desire speared her, sharp and hot and urgent. She reached out and unbuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers, pulling it away from his shoulders. His skin was hot and smooth, and the muscles beneath were taut. When her fingers fumbled with the fly of his jeans, he gently pushed her hands away. “Let me.”

His jeans dropped to the floor, and she stared at him, moved by the powerful beauty of his body. Then he knelt in front of her and unbuttoned her jeans, kissing her thighs, then her calves, as the rough denim slid down her legs. By the time she was naked, she ached with the need to feel him inside her.

He slid onto the bed next to her, and when she touched him, he tensed and closed his eyes. After a moment, he groaned and moved her hand away. “I'm going to explode if you keep doing that. And I've waited too long for you to let that happen.” He rolled over and kissed her, pinning her hands to the bed. “You can play all you want later.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

“You can hold anything you want. Later.”

He covered her mouth with his, and she lost herself in his kiss. When he cupped her with his hand, she moaned his name and moved against him. “I need you, Griff. I can't wait any longer.”

“Willa.” He rose above her, then took her mouth in another devouring kiss. When she strained to meet him, he slid into her, filling her and claiming her.

They moved together, their hands clasped, their mouths clinging together, completely joined. Sensation bloomed and grew until it filled her completely. When the first wave crashed over her, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, whispering his name. And when he shuddered against her, the only sound she heard was his, murmuring her name.

Griff waited until his breathing returned to normal, waited until the world stopped spinning, then he shifted to the side and gathered Willa close to him. She murmured contentedly and burrowed her head into his neck.

“Are you all right?” he asked, when she didn't move.

Finally she lifted her head and looked at him. “I'm not sure. Am I still alive?”

The stunned expression in her eyes eased the sudden vise around his heart. “Let's check you out.” He smoothed his hand down her back and shaped her hips and buttocks. Her satiny skin sliding against his palm made him stir again. “You feel more than alive. You make me feel alive.”

Her hand fluttered against his back, and she tight
ened her hold on him. “I had no idea,” she said, and her voice sounded stunned, too.

Tenderness filled him, and he kissed her again. “Maybe we should try that again so you can be sure.”

She raised her head to look at him, and slowly she smiled. “Maybe we should. I'm trained to observe, you know. But I need plenty of data to support my conclusions.”

“I've got all the data you can handle.”

W
eak morning sunlight streamed in the window when Griff woke up the next day. Without thinking, he moved closer to Willa. She lay curled up next to him, her face against his chest, one hand resting on his leg. She looked vulnerable and innocent as she slept beside him.

He pulled the sheet up to cover her, then rolled over and stared at the ceiling. In spite of what she'd told him, in spite of the way she'd touched him and tasted him and made love with him, he still felt as if he'd robbed her of some of her innocence.

He didn't care what she'd said. Willa didn't belong with a man like him. And sooner or later, she would realize it. His heart contracted, but he forced himself to face the truth. Sooner or later, she would come to her senses and return to her safe, unstained world.

But he would enjoy the time they had left. Another surge of wanting came over him as he looked at Willa, sleeping beside him. They had made love several times during the night, but his need for her was just as fierce, just as powerful as it had been before he'd touched her. And if her reactions were any indication, she felt the same way.

He rolled over and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her tousled head. Sleepily she smiled up at him.

“Hi, there.”

“Hi, yourself.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth, then sat up, ignoring the need that gripped him. “How about some food? I think we skipped a meal or two yesterday, and I want to make sure you keep up your strength.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She reached for the sheet, holding it in front of her as she sat up in the bed. A delicate pink suffused her cheeks.

“It's too late for the sheet,” he said, his voice solemn as he tried to hide a grin. He felt younger than he had in years. “I've already seen all there is to see.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “No gentleman would point that out to me.”

“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” He bent over and kissed her thoroughly, then stood. “Why don't you take a shower? I'm going to call Ryan and find out if he's made any progress.”

The laughter disappeared from her eyes. “All right.”

She moved to get out of bed, but he put his hand on her arm. “Wait, Willa.”

Slowly she turned to face him. “What?” He saw that she was hurt, and cursed himself for his insensitivity.

“I want nothing more than to forget about Ryan, forget about what happened in College Station, and
stay here with you.” He leaned forward and kissed her, desire stirring hot and fierce once again. “Can you have any doubts about that?”

“I hope that's true,” she murmured against his lips.

He leaned back and smiled. “You can take that to the bank,” he said, quoting her own words back to her. “But I need to call Ryan. He's going to wonder why I haven't contacted him. And I said earlier that I was going to call him last night, remember?”

“Yes, you did.” Slowly the pain disappeared from her eyes. “But can I hope he hasn't heard anything yet?”

“You can. And I do, too.” He was selfish enough to want a little more time with her before the world intruded. “Go ahead and take a shower while I call him, then we'll make some breakfast.”

“And after breakfast?” she said, a spark of mischief in her eyes again.

“I saw a few games in one of the cabinets,” he said, hiding another grin. “I'm sure we can find a way to amuse ourselves.”

She laughed and climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet with her. “I'm sure we can, Fortune. I'll think about the kind of games we'll play while I'm in the shower.”

He watched her walk to the bathroom, relishing the view from the rear as the sheet gaped open. When the door shut behind her, he grabbed his jeans from the floor and went into the other room to pick up the phone.

Lounging on the couch, he dialed the number of Ryan's private phone line, the one that went directly to his office. He knew Ryan would be in his home office already, hard at work. After only a couple of rings, Ryan picked up the phone and said, “Fortune here.”

“Ryan, it's Griff,” he answered. “I wanted to check in with you, let you know that everything is all right at this end. Have you learned anything in College Station?”

“We haven't learned one damn thing.” Ryan's voice was filled with frustration. “I've got investigators combing the town, but they haven't turned up the van, or any other information. And there's no sign of Clint, either. It's like those two painters vanished into thin air.”

Griff fought down the relief that overwhelmed him. “That's too bad, Ryan.”

“Yeah, well, we're doing all we can,” his uncle answered gruffly. “I'm glad to hear that you're safe in the cabin.”

“Not a hint of trouble,” Griff answered. “A belt broke on the generator, but we managed to get it going again.”

“Were there spare parts in the shed?”

“No, but we found one in town. After this is over, you might want to tell Mary Ellen to have someone check it thoroughly.”

“She has someone in El Paso who services the cabin regularly. I'll mention it to her.”

“Don't say anything until after we leave,” Griff warned his uncle.

“I know that, Griff.” Ryan sighed. “I'm sorry to leave you and Willa stranded in the cabin, but I don't want to take any chances. I'm hoping we find something soon.”

“Don't worry about us,” Griff said quickly. “Willa is safe, and that's all that matters.”

“Thanks, Griff. I owe you for this.”

“It's my pleasure,” he replied. “Call if there's any news.”

“I'll do that.”

They said goodbye, and Griff hung up the phone.

When he returned to the bedroom, he heard the shower running and he smiled. Pulling off his jeans, he opened the bathroom door.

Betsy Keene eased away from Ryan Fortune's office door as she heard him set the phone back in the receiver. Her heart raced and she knew her cheeks were flushed, but she forced herself to continue dusting as she moved steadily away from the office. If Ryan came out, or if anyone else came along, it had to look as if she were merely doing her job.

Ryan had been talking to Griffin Fortune, that nephew of his from Australia. Ryan had called him by name. And they'd been talking about a cabin near El Paso. Was Griffin the one who'd rescued Willa? Was he keeping her in the cabin?

 

Betsy's mind raced as she worked, slowly and methodically. This could be the information that Clint
had been waiting for. This could be the breakthrough that he'd wanted.

As she moved farther away from the office, a part of Betsy prayed that the information would mean nothing to Clint. Her lover meant to harm Willa Simms, she was sure of it. And she had a soft spot for Willa.

But she would tell Clint what she'd heard. She'd promised him she would, after all. Her promises hadn't seemed to matter to Clint, though. He had only become more moody and angry since they failed to shoot Matilda and failed to kidnap Willa. Ever since the night he'd raged at her in the tiny trailer, he'd been unpredictable and frightening. She didn't want to think about what he would do if he ever did find Willa Simms.

The day passed much too quickly, even though she did several small additional jobs to put off the inevitable confrontation with Clint. Finally she could delay no longer, and she drove slowly home to the trailer she had shared with him ever since his escape from prison.

Her heart sank when she saw the bottle of beer on the table next to the couch. Clint was always more unreasonable when he had been drinking. But she gathered her courage and closed the door behind her.

“I heard something at work today,” she said with exaggerated brightness as she went into the kitchen to start dinner. “I overheard Ryan talking to Griffin Fortune. He's one of the nephews from Australia.”

“I know who he is.” Clint's voice was low and
deadly behind her. “He's another one who's taking what should be mine.”

“He's not at the ranch right now,” Betsy said hastily. “But I think maybe he's with Willa Simms.”

Clint jumped to his feet. “What did you hear?”

“Ryan was talking to him on the phone. He mentioned a cabin, and he mentioned El Paso. Does that mean anything to you?”

She held her breath, hoping that it wouldn't. She didn't want to think about what Clint might do to Willa. Or to Griff, who had apparently outmaneuvered him at Willa's apartment.

But a smile slowly spread over Clint's face. His eyes glittered, and he nodded with satisfaction. “My sister Mary Ellen owns a cabin in the mountains near El Paso. I know just where it is.” His smile grew wider. “I should have thought of that cabin myself.”

“Do you think that's where Willa is?” Betsy asked timidly.

Clint laughed, and the sound sent shivers up Betsy's spine. “I'll bet on it. In fact, I'll stake my future on it.” He turned his gaze on her. “And yours.”

“What are you going to do, Clint?” She wiped her damp palms on her dress. If he went to the cabin by himself, she thought wildly, maybe she could warn Ryan.

The disloyal thought shocked her, but she was chilled by the fear of what Clint would do to Willa. And to her, she admitted to herself.

“
We're
going to take a trip to El Paso,” Clint said,
picking up his beer bottle and taking a long pull. “We'll leave bright and early tomorrow morning. You can call in sick to work.” He took another drink, and Betsy saw with despair that madness glittered in his eyes again. “We have work to do in El Paso.”

 

Willa woke up and looked over at Griff. He was still sound asleep. His brown hair stuck up straight on his head, and there were no signs of the tense lines that usually grooved his face. He looked relaxed and happy, and Willa grinned.

What they had been doing for the past two days would make anyone relaxed and happy.

She couldn't remember ever being so content. Although she knew it was irresponsible, she hoped that it took a long, long time for Ryan to find out who had tried to kidnap her. Her world had narrowed to include only Griff.

Her friends, her home and her career in College Station seemed like part of another life, one that didn't belong to her. She thought back with amazement on her days at the university last fall. She had only been half alive then, she realized, only existing. There had been no colors in her life before Griff.

And now her days and nights were filled with magic.

Her smile faded as she slipped out of the bed. She hoped that magic would still crackle between them when they left the cabin. Sooner or later, they would have to return to the real world. And she was frightened of what would happen between them.

Griff, she knew, was still wary of their relationship. Although she knew that their lovemaking moved him deeply, she suspected he still felt that he wasn't good enough for her. When he didn't think she was looking, he would have a sad, brooding expression on his face. Almost, she thought, as if he were imagining what life was going to be like after he left her in College Station.

She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think at all about life without Griff. Just a few short months ago, she'd thought her job was the most important thing in the world. Now it was just a way to earn a living. Griff was far more important to her than the prestige of being a professor at the university.

He wouldn't accept that, she knew. He would be horrified at the thought. But there were other universities in the world. And she was well-qualified.

Stunned at the direction her thoughts were taking, Willa slipped on her jeans and a T-shirt, then slid her feet into her shoes. She needed to eat, and so did Griff. Then maybe she could think more rationally about their relationship, and put these crazy thoughts out of her mind. How could she be thinking of throwing away everything she had worked so hard to attain?

Before she stepped out of the room she looked at Griff, and her heart constricted. She wouldn't be throwing anything away, she reminded herself. She would simply be making a new start somewhere else. Because when she looked at the man she loved, her job faded into insignificance.

She
loved
Griff. She could allow herself to admit that now, in the quiet of the cabin, while Griff slept. He wasn't yet ready to hear it, so for now it would be her secret. She hugged it to her heart and smiled as she began to make sandwiches. She and Griff would have another picnic, she thought. After all, they'd never gotten around to eating their sandwiches up on the mountain two days ago.

But this one would be a little more intimate than the last one. For starters, neither of them would be wearing any clothes. And she wasn't even sure they would do much eating.

Smiling to herself and humming a romantic song, she finished making the sandwiches just as a knock sounded at the door of the cabin. Dropping the knife she'd been using, she went to the window and looked outside into the early evening darkness. A beat-up sedan sat in the driveway, empty. And on the porch, standing in front of the door, was a middle-aged woman.

She was short and slender, almost fragile looking. Her brown hair hung limply around her face, and her eyes were frightened. She must be lost, Willa thought, and headed for the door. She almost called Griff, but decided not to wake him. They hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Or the night before that, she thought, a smile teasing her lips.

A small, lost, middle-aged woman couldn't be a threat to her.

She opened the door a crack, bracing it with her
foot so she could shut it quickly. “Can I help you?” she asked politely.

“I hope so. I must have gotten turned around, because I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the main road?”

Willa stared at the woman as fear rose in her throat. Her heart pounded and her palms became slippery with sweat. She opened her mouth to call Griff, but no sound would come out.
She recognized that voice.