Chapter Twelve
“You finished?” Linc asked as their lunch came to an end.
Seated across from him, Carly tossed her white linen napkin down on the table. “I’m done.”
This late in the afternoon, the restaurant was nearly empty, just a few waiters moving around picking up and resetting the tables for the supper crowd.
Linc stood up and pulled out her chair. “I need to get back to the office. I’ve still got a couple more hours of work before I’m finished.”
“I’ve got plenty to do,” Carly said.
“I pulled the address of the couple who found Miguel’s body out of the case files.”
“The Grangers,” she said. “I remember seeing their name.”
“I thought we could pay them a visit before we head home. Sometimes people remember something later that doesn’t seem important at the time.”
“I had that thought myself.”
“Ross could do it, but I’d rather he keep digging around in Iron Springs.” Linc ushered her out of the restaurant, into the back of the town car. She’d seemed preoccupied all day, but so had he. He figured she was thinking of El Jefe and what had happened last night, worrying about how to handle things from here.
Linc wished she’d sold him the company, let him deal with the threat, but that wasn’t going to happen.
At the office, both of them went back to work. By six o’clock he was finished and guiding her toward the elevator up to the roof.
“What about the Grangers?” she asked. “I thought that’s where we were going.”
“Millie called to set up a time. They’re out of town until tomorrow. We’ve got a one o’clock appointment tomorrow afternoon. I thought we’d come in and talk to them, then catch an early dinner before we head home.”
Carly didn’t jump at the idea but eventually she nodded. “Okay.”
The chopper took them back to the ranch. From the helipad, Linc grabbed Carly’s overnight bag out of the helicopter while she shouldered her laptop.
Walking beside her, he carried her suitcase up the wide stone steps into the massive entry and set the bag down on the floor.
“You want a tour first or shall I take you up to your suite?”
She didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the twin sweeping staircases leading up to the second story, the huge crystal chandelier suspended above the inlaid Italian marble floors, the black and sienna sunburst pattern beneath her feet.
Her gaze went left, to a living room done in white and gold with heavy gold draperies and gilded French antiques.
“So what do you think?” he asked, watching her closely.
“It’s . . . umm . . . It isn’t exactly . . . It’s just . . .”
“It’s just what?”
“It’s just that it . . . It just . . . it doesn’t seem to fit you.”
He frowned. “You don’t like it?” He had never brought a woman to the house who didn’t gush over the opulent interior, who wasn’t impressed by the sheer spectacle of the place, the millions it had cost to build.
“It’s fine. It’s just . . . it’s a surprise, is all.”
“It’s a surprise because you don’t think it fits me.”
“Well, I don’t know, I didn’t expect—”
Linc reached down and grabbed her bag, turned, and started striding back toward the door.
Carly adjusted the strap of her laptop on her shoulder and ran after him. “Wait a minute! I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s a very nice house. It’s just—”
He stopped so fast as he turned, she collided with his chest. “It just doesn’t fit me—that’s what you said.” He started walking again, heading for the garage.
“Where are you going?” She trailed after him as he punched in the code and one of the garage doors began sliding open.
He walked over to the black Jeep Wrangler sitting in the bay, tossed her suitcase into the back, slid in behind the wheel, and fired it up.
He backed out of the garage, turned and pulled up next to her. “Get in.” The Jeep idled like a big black cat. One of his favorite toys, it was fully tricked out: chrome rims, wide off-road tires, a heavy duty roll bar. A top covered the front seats, but the rest of the vehicle was completely open. It was rugged, perfect for the ranch.
In her slim skirt, Carly struggled to climb into the passenger seat. Linc grabbed her hand and pulled her aboard. He took her laptop and settled it behind her. Carly buckled her seat belt and Linc hit the gas. The vehicle lurched forward, speeding off down the dirt road that headed toward the back of the ranch.
“So . . . umm . . . where are we going?”
“Someplace else.”
She leaned back against the seat as he drove the Jeep along the dirt road. He was taking her someplace he had never taken a woman. It was the second time it had happened that day.
He’d told himself to stay away from Carly, that it was what Joe would have wanted.
But it wasn’t what Linc wanted. Linc wanted Carly in his bed. He wanted her with a need he had never felt for another woman. He wanted her for more than a night, though how much longer he couldn’t say.
He thought of Joe and the promise he had made. But Joe Drake was a very smart man. He knew Linc and he knew his granddaughter. He must have considered what could happen. Carly wasn’t a fool, and Linc wasn’t the same wild kid he had once been.
A few minutes later he pulled up in front of the single-story red brick ranch house. Outbuildings dotted the open fields around it: a barn, and what he called his toy garage where he kept a pair of ATVs, a Prowler UTV, and other miscellaneous recreational gear.
Carly followed his lead and jumped down from the seat. He grabbed her overnight bag out of the back while she retrieved her laptop. Setting a hand at her waist, he guided her into the house. In the living room, he set down her bag.
Carly set her laptop down on a side table. “What is this place?”
“This is where I live. I stay in the big house when I’m entertaining, but when I’m at the ranch by myself, I stay here. This is my home.”
* * *
Carly just stared. Linc had brought her into his home. His inner sanctuary. When he said nothing more, she slipped off her heels and began to wander the living room, trailing a hand over the burgundy leather sofa that had to be at least nine feet long. There were brass studs around the rolled arms, the arms of both matching chairs, and the legs of the ottoman.
The furniture sat on a throw rug done in an Indian design in front of a big rock fireplace. The coffee table and end tables were very dark oak and they looked as if they carried some kind of brand.
“This is the original ranch house,” Linc said. “That’s our brand. Rocking BR—for Blackland Ranch.” Which explained the burn marks in the wood.
She studied the paintings on the walls, very Western, with herds of cattle being driven to market, one of a cowboy catching a nap on his horse. A colorful painting of a run-down roadhouse hung a few feet away, a group of men sitting on their motorcycles out in front.
She kept walking, spotted a wall of photos. Pictures of Beau Reese with his race car, photos of Linc sitting on his motorcycle in his leathers with the guys she had met at Jubal’s.
She looked up at him. Everything about him appealed to her: his size, his strength, his intelligence.
“I’ve never brought a woman here before,” he said.
Carly went still.
“I don’t know where this is going,” he continued. “Neither of us can know that. I can pick up that bag and drive you back to the big house. You’ll have your own private suite. I’ll play the gentleman and we can take our time, get to know each other, play the game.”
She moistened her lips. She couldn’t manage a single word.
“Or you can stay here. There are two other bedrooms besides mine, but aside from the powder room, the only spare bathroom is down the hall. There’s no chef to cook for you, just me. No housekeeper to chaperone us. What’s it to be, Carly? You want to stay with the man who lives up at the big house? Or you want to stay with the man who lives here?”
Her throat felt tight. Her heart was beating, thumping inside her chest. Tension seemed to scorch the air between them. There were so many problems, so much she had to deal with. She couldn’t get involved with Lincoln Cain.
She took in a slow breath of air, her mind battling the desire pulsing through her body. Just looking at him made heat throb between her legs. She had never wanted a man the way she wanted Cain. Never felt this kind of need.
She picked up the suitcase and started down the hall, paused in front of the master suite. “Your room or the one next door?”
“Mine,” he said, his hot gaze like a fire burning into her flesh.
She dropped the bag just inside the door, turned, and walked back to him.
She slid her arms around his neck. “I want you to kiss me. You can’t imagine how much.”
His eyes moved over her face, fixed on her mouth. “I can’t make you any promises.” His big hands spanned her waist. “I don’t know how this is going to work.”
“I don’t need any promises.”
He dragged her hard against him and his mouth crushed down over hers. She could taste his hunger, his desire. His tongue was in her mouth and hers was in his. The kiss went on and on, deep and plundering, as if he couldn’t get enough. As if she couldn’t.
She wanted him out of his clothes, wanted him naked, wanted to be skin to skin, nothing but heat between them. She wanted him to touch her all over.
Carly shoved his suit coat off his broad shoulders and it fell to the floor. She loosened his tie, pulled it off, started unbuttoning his shirt, dragged it open, ran her fingers over the beautiful muscles across his chest.
Linc kissed her again. “Too many clothes,” he said, and began peeling them off. He toed off his shoes and unfastened his cuff links, stripped off his shirt. He was down to his slacks, bare-chested, biceps bulging and amazing.
An instant later, her suit jacket was gone. He unfastened the clasp in front of her apricot demi-bra and tossed it away, unfastened her skirt, and it dropped to the floor.
She was wearing an apricot lace thong, her lingerie as expensive as the rest of the clothes she’d splurged on in Paris. When Linc stepped back to look at her, when she saw the glitter of heat in his eyes, she knew the cost was worth it.
Linc kissed her, long and deep, kissed her until her legs felt weak and her skin burned. All the while, he caressed her breasts, cupped them, plucked her nipples.
Carly moaned. She reached for the button on the waistband of his slacks. “Too many clothes,” she said.
Linc caught her hand. His fingers were big and strong, as powerful as the rest of him. “We can go into the bedroom, take this nice and slow. Or I can take you right here, take you as deep and hard as I want to. The choice is yours.”
The words sent need pounding through her. Her breasts were aching, her body throbbing. Carly went up on her toes, slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled his head down for a kiss.
“Right here,” she whispered. “Right now.”
His erection leaped against her. His mouth claimed hers as he backed her up against the wall. She heard the jangle of his belt buckle, then the glide of his zipper as he freed himself.
She was wet and trembling as he slid the thong down over her hips, let it fall to the floor, found her sex, and began to stroke her.
“I knew it would be this way,” he said. “I could feel the heat from across the room.”
She whimpered.
A condom came out of his wallet. He sheathed himself, lifted her, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Carly gasped at the feel of him, even bigger than she had imagined.
“It’s all right,” he said, pressing his mouth against the side of her neck. “I won’t hurt you. We’ll just take it slow.”
He slid in a little deeper and her body relaxed around him. He felt so good. Unbelievably good. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. She began to squirm, pressing herself down on him. “Please, Linc.”
“Dammit, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please . . .”
Linc caught her mouth in a savage kiss and thrust home. Carly cried out. She had waited so long for this, wanted him so badly. The instant he moved, she started coming. The world expanded, colors exploded behind her eyes. He was driving hard and deep and she just kept coming. Clinging to his powerful shoulders, she hung on tight as her body spun out of control.
The moment seemed to go on forever. She was beginning to spiral down when Linc finally let himself go, reaching his own powerful climax, which set her off again.
For long moments she floated back to earth. Linc just held her, the clock on the shelf ticking softly. Kissing the top of her head, he slowly lowered her to her feet, kissed her, and left to dispense with the condom.
When he returned to the living room, he scooped her up and carried her into his bedroom, settled her in his big king-size bed.
She watched him moving around the room, all hard muscle, long legs, broad back, and narrow hips. He rummaged around in the closet, took a carryon bag down from the shelf, unzipped it, and pulled out a string of condoms.
“We’re going to need these,” he said, and tossed them onto a nightstand. None next to his bed. He had told her the truth. He didn’t bring women into his home.
As he settled himself on the mattress, she realized he was already hard again. She took a shaky breath, was aroused once more just looking at him, wanting to touch him all over.
Linc followed her gaze to his heavy erection, and a corner of his mouth edged up. He came up over her and very thoroughly kissed her. Sliding himself deep inside, he slowly began to move.
* * *
Linc’s cell phone buzzed, vibrating softly next to the bed. Instantly awake, he turned onto his side and plucked the phone off the nightstand. The number on the screen belonged to his foreman, Joaquin Santos. Santos didn’t call if it wasn’t important.
Linc answered before the phone could ring again. As he rolled out of bed, he flicked a glance at Carly, who still slept soundly, a tangle of heavy blond hair spread out on the pillow next to his.
Even though he’d had her three times last night and again this morning, arousal slid through him. With a resigned sigh, he ignored the urge to climb back into bed with her and padded out of the room into the hall.
“Joaquin, what is it?”
“There is trouble at the gate, Señor Cain. The security guard called me. I am there now. People with signs are marching around. Some of them are giving speeches, some are singing songs.”
“Songs,” he repeated, his mellow mood darkening. Had to be the same bunch who had hassled him outside the courthouse.
“Sí, señor. I tried to get them to leave, but they will not go. Do you want me to call the sheriff ?”
“Not yet. Let me see if I can talk to them. I’ll be right there.” Ending the call he went back into the bedroom to grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, found Carly sitting up in bed.
Though his mood had turned foul, he smiled when he saw her. “Morning, sweetness.”
She shoved back her thick blond hair. “What’s going on?”
“Long story short? Those protestors I mentioned are out at the gate trying to stop Tex/Am from opening that tire rebuilding plant I told you about.”
“We use those rebuilt tires all the time,” Carly said. “Saves money and recycles the rubber instead of having to find some way to dispose of it.”
“Exactly.” The shower would have to wait . . . which might not be bad if he could talk Carly into joining him. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll go with you. Maybe I can add something that will help.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. Drake Trucking had been a fixture in Iron Springs for years. “All right, but you better be quick. If we don’t get out there soon, they’ll probably tear down the gate.”
* * *
Five minutes later, he and Carly walked out the door. They climbed in the Jeep and he drove past the stone house to the big iron gates out on the highway.
Joaquin was right. Twenty some people paraded up and down the roadway carrying the same damn signs he recognized from the courthouse. SAVE MOTHER EARTH. PROTECT PLEASANT HILL. STOP POLLUTION NOW! Linc took one look at the group, felt the hostile vibes pouring off of them, and knew any sort of confrontation would only make matters worse.
“Call the sheriff,” he told Joaquin. “Let Howler handle this. Rousting a bunch of loonies might actually be something he can handle.”
“Sí, señor.”
They got back in the Jeep, turned around, and drove off to the sound of jeers and a fresh chorus of singing. One guy was playing a harmonica, a self-styled Bob Dylan.
“People can really be idiots,” Linc said as he pulled up in front of the ranch house.
“Maybe they aren’t idiots. Maybe they’re doing this because they want something. Someone could be stirring up trouble because he’s got some kind of agenda.”
Linc paused at the front door and gave her a look. She had Joe’s brains, too. “You could be right. I’ll have my people look into it, see if they can find out who their cheerleader is and what his motives are.”
“The plant would be good for Pleasant Hill and also Iron Springs. I hope you get it approved.”
He smiled. “So do I.”
They walked into the house and Carly headed for the bedroom. “I really need a shower,” she said as he walked down the hall behind her.
His eyes ran over her sweet little ass in the snug-fitting jeans. “Yeah, so do I.”
Carly turned and grinned up at him. “I’ve seen the size of your . . . shower. I suppose there’s room for two.”
Linc chuckled and followed her into the bathroom. For now, he’d leave the protestors to the sheriff. The trouble at the front gate could wait a little while longer.