GRAY TRIED NOT to stare at Stormy as she surveyed the ranch. He hadn’t brought a woman home in…well, not since Hannah.
“You didn’t tell me.” Stormy brought her chin up, nailing him with a narrowed gaze.
“Tell you what?”
“That you’re rich. This place is more than just a ranch. It’s a mansion.”
“Not a mansion.”
“My last apartment would fit into the foyer.”
He laughed and the sound echoed off the backsplash of the modern kitchen. “I’m not rich. My father is. Big difference. He was one of the most prominent attorneys in Wyoming and he had a golden thumb in real estate investments. He likes to stay busy.”
“Ah, so you came by it honestly.”
“I remind him of that when he complains that I don’t visit enough.”
He watched her run her fingers along the smooth tip of the granite countertop and how she admired the space. Unfortunately, the kitchen was designed for a chef, but there was none in sight.
“And this is the place you’re running from?” She smiled. “I’d have to say you might be a little crazy.”
“Not running, sweetheart. Good news is, no one gets onto the property unless they’re buzzed in first. Also, watch this…” He stepped over to two folding doors at the backside of the kitchen and opened them, revealing a row of legitimate looking monitors and keyboards. He flipped a switch and the screens came alive. “You can see every angle.”
“This is a bit overwhelming.”
“If it helps, we’ve never had any issues out here. My dad built the fortress after he had a client threaten him. That’s when my mom was still alive and I think he did it for her peace of mind.”
“Your mom passed away? You didn’t tell me.”
He shrugged. “I guess that’s another thing that I don’t open up about often.” He stepped away from the monitors. “How about I show you to your room? Do you have a preference in color?”
“I have that choice?” Her eyes widened.
“I think I know which you’d like. Follow me.”
He grabbed her luggage and led her up the back-winding stairs to the closest room on the right. He set her bags down and opened the door, pushing it all the way open with his foot. He motioned for her to step in first.
She took several steps, stopped, then turned on her heel. “Wait. What. This is your room, right?”
“I needed to make sure you knew how to get to me if you needed me in the middle of the night.”
Her cheeks flushed. “How considerate of you.” She quickly turned and he wondered if she was wanting to hide her obvious flustered reaction.
Once they were back out into the hallway, he showed her to the closest guest room and left her alone. He guessed she’d like to shower and clean up and he wanted to scrub the last few days off his body too Then he had some work to do. The Ghost Hawks were onto Phantom. Although he wasn’t in their grasp yet, they were very close to nailing him. The bastard thought he had the upper hand, but he’d find the end of his rope and there he’d find Gray waiting ready to throw his ass behind bars.
Back in his bedroom, he stripped his clothing, turned the shower temperature as hot as he could stand, and stood under the spray until he felt some of the tension ease from his body. When he finished scrubbing, he climbed out, dried off and decided it was high time he shaved. Although he was anxious to check in with Jamison, he also wanted to leave a good impression on his guest. Maybe even provide her with a good meal. His stomach growled at the thought of eating something that didn’t come out of a can. Although growing up they had a cook who prepared their meals, when Gray enlisted in the Navy he’d learned right quick that if he wanted to survive, he had to learn some skills and cooking was one of them. If he said so himself, he could grill a mean steak and mix up a salad, and maybe even dessert. And truthfully, he wanted to impress Stormy. He’d never wanted to with anyone else, wanting a woman to take him as he was, but he was learning if a man really cared for someone, he had to change some.
Once his jaw was smooth and he was dressed in clean clothes, he strolled down the hall and stopped momentarily at Stormy’s closed door. He could hear the water running and an image of her naked in the shower, soap running down her body certainly did test the seam of his jeans.
Dragging himself away from the position and the fantasy, he hurried down the stairs. At the refrigerator he grabbed two fresh steaks and laid them on the counter on his way to the office off the kitchen. Sitting behind the desk, he picked up the phone receiver and dialed a familiar number. If Jamison was still on the mountain, he wouldn’t have service, but when the phone was picked up on the second ring, Gray’s heart hitched. “Nail the bastard?”
“Sorry, man. I searched the cabin where they were staying and both were long gone. I did find something that’ll make you a happy though.”
“You found a print, didn’t you?” He leaned forward, grabbed a pen and clicked it in restless energy.
“I found bloody gauze in the trash can and, drumroll please, a hairbrush that had fallen underneath the vanity. I’ll send both to the lab for top priority. However, I did find a partial print. Could be his or hers, but I’ll run them through the scanner and see what we come up with. Once I get a face, you’ll be the first to know, but it might take some time. As far as catching a trail, I saw evidence of more than two people at their location, which means your first thought of them having help was right on. Also, it appears our terrorist has come up in the world. They had a helicopter pick them up at a nearby clearing. You know what that means.”
“That none of this makes sense. It seems Phantom has switched his operation. Initially I believed he was on Whispering Mountain hiding out until his next hit, but instinct warns me there’s something else going on.”
“You thinking he was there solely for the purpose of getting you alone?”
“Hell, nothing makes sense. What am I missing? I think he’s out for me, sure, and after what happened on the mountain he’ll be hell-bent, but this seems a little elaborate.”
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, man, but watch your back.”
“Did you have a chance to stop at the cabin where Stormy and I were staying?” Gray dropped the pen.
“I grabbed everything I saw and cleaned up. After a bit of research, the cabin belongs to a private owner who rents it out online. The owner gave me a name. Sandra Wolford. Ring a bell?”
“No, but I bet she also goes by the name of Dory Shewalter.”
“I ran both names and came up empty.”
“I figured you would.” Gray moaned. “Thank you, buddy. Stay in touch.”
After hanging up, he went back into the kitchen and turned on music while he prepared the steaks for grilling.
He heard her before he saw her. Her soft footsteps sounded on the stairs. The fourth step creaked, and he looked up just as she took the last step. His breath came out like a gust of air. She looked radiant with her hair brushed out around her shoulders and she wore a red floral off the shoulders filmy top with skinny jeans.
“I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a shower more,” she said as she stepped into the room, bringing with her sunshine.
It took him a good five seconds to get his tongue to work. “I-I hope the guest room is to your liking.” He attempted to concentrate on seasoning the steaks, then remembered he’d already seasoned them once. He was off his game when she was near.
“To my liking? Seriously? I could move in.” She must have realized what she said because her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean literally. I’m just saying—”
“Stormy. It’s okay. I knew what you meant.” He smiled. He should find humor in her discomfort, but she looked so cute flustered.
“If this is your dad’s place, where is he?” She strolled in, bringing with her a fresh, clean coconut scent that reminded Gray of a sweet drink on an island.
“I don’t know, but this isn’t anything unusual. He likes to take off to some exotic location when the mood hits.”
She slid up on the wrought iron barstool and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “So, we’re alone?”
Did he see some concern flash in her pale blue eyes? “Are you worried?”
“Uh, no, I was just asking.” She turned her cheek and looked at the security monitors. “It’s odd to be able to see every view around the house.”
Sure, she was changing the subject and he’d let it go, although he didn’t want her to be afraid. “It’s easy to get used to.”
“When someone stops at the locked gate it chimes?”
“If they press the button. If it’s someone who has the access code, they can enter it into the system and come in without being buzzed in.” He placed the steaks on the table. “I’m heading out to put these on the grill. Would you like a beer, glass of lemonade or tea? Water? I could open a bottle of wine.”
There was a pointed hesitation and a flicker of her tongue rolling across her bottom lip. “I think a glass of wine sounds good.”
“Coming right up, madam.” He stepped over to the row of bottles set up neatly in a decorative wooden case. “I bet you’ll love this.” He felt her eyes on him as he opened the bottle that came loose with a loud pop.
“It’s hard to believe we were drinking whiskey out of a bottle last night.”
He smiled, grabbed a wineglass from the cabinet and poured her half a glass and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge. “Care to join me?”
“Outside? In the snow?”
“No. I’m grilling them on a covered patio. It’s heated.”
He waited for her and Lola, and once they were out, he closed the door and followed her, liking the soft sway of her hips as she made her way across the covered patio. The sun rays shining caught the blonder highlights of her hair. After setting the steaks on the preheated grill, he walked over to the stereo, hit power and found a station he knew played a variety of music. After all, he had no clue what genre she listed to.
After fifteen minutes of talking about everything from the weather to movies she liked to watch and skirting around the heavier issues like bad guys and killers, they ate in comfortable silence. An hour later, their dishes were set aside, and he asked, “I’m going to grab another beer. Can I get you another glass?”
“That sounds perfect.”
He wasn’t sure if it was because she was safe or because of the wine, but she seemed much more relaxed. Once he grabbed the drinks he stepped back out and sat down at the glass table. She had her feet propped up on one of the chairs.
“Dinner was delicious,” she said with an engaging smile.
“So was the companionship.”
“Ah, are you trying to sweet talk me?” She brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.
He took a long swig of his beer. “Maybe.”
*
Stormy sipped at the expensive red wine, enjoying how smooth it went down. Unfortunately, she could imagine drinking several glasses easily and once she stood up she’d be tipsy. The wine was just that good. It eased the tension and soreness in her body and the easy conversation between she and Gray relaxed her back into the comfortable cushion of the chair.
“So, what was it like growing up rich?” She rolled the tip of one finger around the rim of the glass.
“Don’t get caught up on the rich thing. Trust me, I’m not spoiled.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled.
“I didn’t say you were, but let’s face it, this place is amazing.”
He shrugged, stretching the cotton of the T-shirt to capacity. The wine must be breaking down walls because, for the life of her, she couldn’t think why she hadn’t jumped his bones yet. He was sexy, smart, and when he talked they had easy conversation. And his hands…oh brother, his large hands. What ground they could cover on her body in such a short span of time.
“I guess.”
“Oh, come on. Are you modest?”
He laughed out loud. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that word directed toward me.”
“At least you’re laughing now and not in that crabby mood still. It was insufferable.”
“In my favor, I have been turned on only to be shot down at least a dozen times over the last few days.” His eyes twinkled in mischief.
“You’re cute.” She winked, feeling her cheeks warm and her inner thighs tremble. “I won’t fall for that. I know the real reason. You’re itching to get out there and find the bad guy, and instead, you have to stay here and babysit me.”
He gave his head a sharp shake. “Not true. I’m here, just where I want to be.” The soft lilt to his voice made her nipples tighten. Remembering how his cock pressed her bottom made her mouth salivate.
“Sure. We’ll leave it at that, but you’re allowed to love your job. My mom always said, “Find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life’.”
“I love that saying.” He eased back into the chair, bracing his feet on the bar under the table.
“I must have thought about us…in bed…at least a hundred times.” Had she just said those words? Or did she imagine that she’d voiced her thoughts. When a grin lifted the corner of his mouth, she knew immediately that she’d allowed them to slip past her lips.
His eyes darkened and she felt the pull between them grow stronger. “I like this side to you. I don’t have to wonder what’s on your mind because you speak it.”
“Oh, you don’t find it childish?”
He blinked. “Childish? Whatever for?” He brought his bottle to his lips and drank thirstily.
“Duncan didn’t like when I was, well, vocal.”
He snorted. “And you were with the guy why?”
She laughed. “Good question.”
“I think we need to stay busy.” He stood and strolled toward her, his eyes staying upon her. She swallowed hard, wondering if “stay busy” was code for “sex”? Lord help her, if he made one move in that direction she’d forget protocol and dive right in. He held out his hand, palm up. She stared, and he laughed. “You have danced before, right?”
“Yes.”
“Will you dance with me?” He lifted a brow.
Her heart fluttered at the idea of being in his arms, bodies pressed together, and she was afraid she’d make a fool of herself by asking for him to make love to her. “Sure.” She downed the rest of her wine, laid her hand into his, and he helped her up. He led her several feet to the open area of the floor and he circled his arms around her waist as if he’d done it a thousand times before. She situated her hands on his broad shoulders, enjoying how his muscles clenched under her palms.
Remembering how he’d teased her while they were stuck in the car, telling her in graphic detail how they’d make love and soon. Yes, she wanted that and now. He grazed the tips of his fingers over her exposed skin and goosebumps awakened, scattering her arms. His free hand settled at the base of her back, his strong fingers pressing into her muscles, stimulating her senses.
Good thing he couldn’t see through her clothing because her nipples were hard and her panties were wet. She was excited…beyond excited. Without thinking, she lowered her head and kissed the dip of his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin.
They moved as if their bodies were in synch. She should have known dancing would be no different than the other connections they had together. Strong and bewildering. There was no man she’d ever met that seemed this close with her.
Lowering her hands down his back, she felt the powerful muscles beneath the T-shirt and a soft moan reached her ears. She liked knowing that she could do this to him—knowing that he felt the attraction too.
He stroked her back with his fingers, moving slowly to her arms, around to her stomach, grazing his thumbs along the underside of her swollen breasts. She became the guitar and he was the guitarist. Her limbs and torso were the strings. Sweet, gentle music played from her body.
“Ah, Gray. How do I become so lost with you?”
“My hands, they want to touch all of you, roam over each delicate, soft curve and dip. I can’t help myself.”
She kissed his skin again, this time rolling her tongue along his neck. “How did we get here?”
“We drove.” He chuckled but it fizzled.
“You know what I mean.”
He lifted her hand and kissed each knuckle. Then he turned it over and his tongue darted out to lick the center of her palm. “Yes, I understand what you meant. There are some mysteries in life that we’re not supposed to understand completely.” He took the tip of her pinky between his lips and suckled gently.
She sucked in a breath, quivering and wobbly. She’d never had her fingers sucked on before and she liked it. A lot.
His gaze met hers and she held it, then lowered to take in the curve of his lips, how beautifully they were rounded, meant for her kisses. “This is all crazy, a whirlwind, but I can’t help myself. I want you to make love to me.”
“Sweetheart, I would love—”