Dangerous Refuge

chapter Seven



Less than an hour later, Shaye was relaxed with the nice twin that had saved her from the party. “It’s a good thing Kimberli needs to stay on your sunny side.”

Tanner made a sound that could have been agreement.

Hard to tell, since he had a mouthful of burger. She took a delightfully sinful french fry from the container she held on her knees and wondered if he had the same fizzy feeling in his blood as she did.

Maybe it was just escaping from a gala. Maybe it was Tanner, her unlikely knight in rented armor, rescuing her from a dragon in a red dress and making her wonder how it would feel to be thoroughly kissed by a man like him.

Stupid teenage thoughts. But I can’t stop thinking them.

Tanner’s eyes reflected the moonlight coming through the windshield.

She shook her head. “You look like a wolf with a lamb chop. And Kimberli . . .” Shaye’s laughter bubbled up in the darkened car. “Oh, to have a picture of her face when you whisked me out of there. She’s too used to having men hanging on her every word.”

“More like her cleavage,” he said, licking ketchup off the side of his thumb.

Shaye tried not to agree, but it was impossible.

Like being here, now, with Tanner. Impossible.

Smiling, she savored another fry while he wolfed the rest of his burger and reached for another.

“Good thing I wasn’t hungry,” she said.

“I offered to share.” In fact, he’d like to share a lot more than a hamburger with her. She was surprisingly easy company, unafraid of either silence or conversation.

“When I went to the gala, the last thing I expected was to be eating dinner overlooking Lake Tahoe with the mythical tall, dark stranger sitting next to me,” she said. “Especially since he could have scared off a dragon by looking at it last night.”

“I said I was sorry,” he answered without complaint. “I’m different, not strange. And this is a greasy take-out snack. But I’ll give you the lake.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted a place on the water.”

He smiled and wondered if she’d bolt if he gave her the kiss he’d been thinking about since he first saw her at the party and wished he hadn’t been such an ass the night before. “I can see how you got around Lorne.”

“I didn’t ‘get around him,’ ” she said instantly.

“Relax. It was a compliment not a poke. You have an easy way about you, that’s all.”

She sighed. “Sorry. It’s been a rough few days.”

“The lawyer told me about the scavengers and Lorne’s body.” Tanner licked up another stray drop of ketchup. “Must have been a shock for you.”

She just stared at him.

“Look, when you’re a cop, you get used to poking at the grim and grimy details of life and having it not kill your appetite,” Tanner said. “Or you starve.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed, tried again. “That explains the bedside manner. Do you . . . like the work?”

“It’s complicated. And you swiped my fries.”

“I was just holding them for you,” she said, chewing one, wide-eyed and innocent.

“Prove it. Feed some to me.”

She met his eyes. The dare and the male heat made her feel like she was sixteen again. She picked up a fry and held it in his direction. He took her hand and nipped the greasy bit of potato from her fingers.

“You left some ketchup on me,” he said in a deep voice.

For an instant she thought about cleaning his lips with her tongue. Then common sense kicked in. Flirtation was one thing, expected in a social setting. What was in his eyes was another thing entirely.

Without a word she handed him a napkin and the rest of the fries. He ate some more as if nothing had happened.

And licked his fingers.

Is it crazy to find a man’s tongue sexy? she asked herself as she watched him.

Then she forced herself to look at the moonlight instead of the man.

Stupid inner teenager. You’ve just gone too long without. And maybe you want some of tall-dark-and-handsome, but are you ready for an old-fashioned fling?

Why not? God knows marriage didn’t work.

For a while there was silence broken by munching sounds as Tanner finished off the food. Through half-closed eyes, Shaye watched the night and the black water turning silver in the moonlight. Slowly her pulse went down to normal.

Finally she let out a silent sigh, feeling herself uncurl in the quiet. For all his hard edges and male hunger, Tanner was an easy man to be with—when he wasn’t biting into her like a burger. He didn’t require constant conversation, admiration, and attention. Like her, he was at home in his own skin. Not smug or arrogant. Just not anxious for approval.

“Don’t judge the Conservancy by Kimberli’s public persona,” Shaye said finally. “Both of them do good work, necessary work.”

“So does a cop or a garbage collector.”

“And nobody dresses up to thank either one of you.”

He smiled slightly. “I knew there was a reason I became a cop. But you wear that little black dress like it was designed for you. Ditto for the glitter party.”

“My mother is like Kimberli, only more subtle. Either way, up-front scarlet or modestly pastel, I was raised to make the cocktail and charity circuit.”

Tanner chewed on that, then shook his head. “You must have driven your mother nuts.”

“My older sister made up for it. She never met a party or a volunteer committee she couldn’t take by sheer breeding and polite persistence.”

He noted that there was no resentment in Shaye’s voice, simply acceptance of the reality that she and her sister were different, and her mother and her sister were alike.

“You take after your father?”

“Nope. His mother. She did her own thing before it became the thing everyone had to do. So who do you take after, besides Lorne?”

Tanner accepted the change of subject, for the moment. Then he would switch it back to Shaye the first moment he could. He should be asking questions, not relaxing or wondering if the rest of her tasted as heady as the smell of her next to him.

“I’ve got Lorne’s eyes,” Tanner agreed, his voice deep.

“Noted. And his no-BS manner,” she said, sneaking a fry from his stash. “His height, and a few inches more. More muscles. Same steel core. Stubborn, too, I’d guess. And we’ve established that you have his temper.”

“Steal any more fries and you’ll find out all over again.”

She swallowed and licked her fingertips and wished she had the nerve to sample the bit of ketchup on his lower lip. “Terrifying thought.”

He watched her looking at his mouth.

She reached for another french fry.

“You were warned,” he said.

Slowly he put one big hand around her nape and eased her forward until their lips almost touched. Then he stopped, his muscles tightening against his thoughts.

“That was a little wishful thinking on my part,” he said finally against her lips.

She didn’t complete the kiss, but she didn’t pull away, either. She gave him a look that was level, curious, and warm. “Well, let’s say you’re a lot closer to it than when we first met.”

Tanner breathed out and hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he was. “Close, but not there?”

“The thing about twins? There are two of them. Yes and No. My Yes twin can be dumb as a rock.”

“So No is in charge right now.” Tanner pulled back a bit but didn’t remove his hand from her nape. “Bad luck with Yes?”

She let herself enjoy the caress of his hand against her neck. “I made a bad choice with a marriage.”

“Burned, huh?”

“Yeah. Knowing you have bad taste in men really makes it easy to say no.” She shifted herself against his hand, savoring the masculine texture and heat. “This is the first time I’ve regretted it.” Her breath brushed the back of his hand as she spoke. “But not enough to give in to temptation.”

“At least I tempt you.”

She sat back and blew out a long breath. “Tanner, you’re a living, breathing temptation to anything female with a pulse.”

He gave a crack of laughter. “You’re the first woman who’s noticed.”

She doubted that, but she knew better than to argue it. She had a suspicion that verbal fencing with him would lead to more temptation than she wanted to handle. A quick mind appealed to her more than a hard male body.

Tanner had both.

“Did you really think Lorne would change his mind if you talked to him?” Tanner asked.

“You’re giving me conversational whiplash. Wait—” She blew out a breath. “You’re right, time to change the subject. When I returned from a fund-raising retreat, there were two messages on my phone. The first was from Kimberli, who said she’d made a mistake with the contract she took out to Lorne, along with the letter of intent he was supposed to sign to firm things up before the party.”

“Must have been a bad mistake.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “The boilerplate contract allows the Conservancy to modify land usage according to the overall conservation plans for the entire Intermountain West. Lorne wanted a guarantee that the land wouldn’t be traded for any reason under any circumstances. It’s hardly an unusual response. We agreed to make the change. He agreed to sign.”

Tanner waited. The weariness in her made him want to pull her into his arms, but that wouldn’t answer any questions except the hot, male-female kind. Death was a cold business.

“Kimberli was late, as usual, for the appointment. She grabbed the wrong contract from Legal and didn’t have time to check it.”

“So Lorne found a mistake.”

“He accused the Conservancy of everything but stealing children for the sex trade and kicked Kimberli off the ranch. She left a message on my phone that I was supposed to go to Lorne and talk reason into his thick head.”

Tanner raised black eyebrows. “She has a lot of faith in you.”

“She knew Lorne was more than a job to me.”

“You said there were two messages.”

“The second one was from Lorne. He was . . . very angry. Wanted me never to set foot on his land again. He wouldn’t answer my return calls. I tried to sleep. Finally I gave up and headed for his ranch. I knew he got up before dawn.”

Tanner listened to Shaye’s words with the skill and intensity of a man who made his living sifting lies from truth. Nothing in her body language or tone rang any alarm bells.

“Did he ever complain about pain or shortness of breath or being stiff in his left side?” Tanner asked.

“No. Other than a knee that bothered him on cold, damp mornings, I never heard him say a word about pain. I never saw him hesitate to pick up a bale of hay or a bucket of water, either.”

“He got the sore knee when he was bucked off a horse that was meaner than he was,” Tanner said, remembering his uncle’s blistering language as he was slammed into the corral fence. “He got back on, rode the horse into the ground, and sold him the next day.”

“Sounds like Lorne.” She hesitated. “He died quickly. He didn’t thrash around or try to crawl back to the house. Just lay faceup to the sky.”

“You found him on his back?”

Shaye nodded.

Tanner’s fingers tapped once on his thigh. “Odd.”

“Why?”

“Unless the person is already lying on his back, most quick, natural deaths fall facedown.” He rolled up the paper trash and stuffed it into the fast-food bag. “Had he argued with anyone else lately?”

“Other than Kimberli, not that I know of. I warned her not to be late with the contract because it was poker night and—”

“Wait. If he was signing a contract, why the letter of intent?”

“Lorne doesn’t—didn’t—trust anyone. Before he signed the letter of intent, he wanted to review and initial every clause of the contract. He was going to officially sign the contract tonight, at the gala, and wanted to be certain he was signing the same contract that he had approved.”

Tanner nodded. “Sounds like him.”

“Anyway,” she said, “Tuesday night was his poker game and he hated being late. With Kimberli, late is a religion. I wanted her to wait until I got back from the retreat so I could handle the whole thing, but she wanted to nail down every detail as soon as possible.”

“Go on.”

She looked at Tanner and saw nothing but the moonlight drawing dark planes and angles from his face. “My guess is Kimberli was late as usual, and just grabbed the contract from Legal without reading it over herself.”

“Is that what she said?”

Shaye shrugged. “It’s what she does—rush from one thing to another, leaving a scatter of papers. She’s goal-oriented rather than detail-oriented. The details are left to the rest of the staff.”

Tanner’s long fingers did a single, rippling tattoo against his thigh. “When you usually saw Lorne, was he wearing work boots and an old Stetson?”

“Unless he was in town. Then he wore the boots I found him in. And he was in town clothes, too.” She frowned, remembering. At the time all she had cared about was the scavengers. “All these questions aren’t giving me a good feeling.”

“Hey, I’m a cop,” he said absently, watching moonlight glide over Shaye’s smooth skin. “We do a lot of questions. Second nature.”

“Try the sheriff. He knows more than I do.”

“I will, and I doubt it.”

Moonlight and silence and a slight breeze ruffling the water.

“One more question,” he said finally. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Shaye blinked. “What?”

“Serious dating, live-in lover, that sort of thing. Seeing someone.”

“If I was, I wouldn’t be here. Are you stepping out on someone?”

“No.” He tossed the bag of trash into the backseat. “I’ll take you back to your car and follow you home to make sure you get there.”

“Why would you—”

“It’s a cop thing,” he said. “We’re the last of the real gentlemen.” He turned the car key and flipped on the headlights. The engine made a snarky sound, balked, then started. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine. Earlier, if you’re the dawn type.”

“I’ll meet you at nine, but I can get myself home just fine.”

Even though my gas gauge isn’t trustworthy.

“I’m sure you can. I’m also sure not going to leave a woman alone in a vehicle as old as the wreck you drive.”

She started to argue, then shrugged. “You’re not coming inside with me.”

He nodded.

“Why will you pick me up at nine?” she asked.

“We’re having breakfast and you’re working hard to talk me into giving the ranch to the Conservancy, remember?”

“Hey, a girl has to eat, right?” she said neutrally.

“We need to talk about your enthusiasm.”

She looked sideways at him, focusing on his mouth, imagining the smooth, resilient heat of his lips and the sensual textures of tongue and teeth.

“Tomorrow,” she said.

And she wondered where that low, sexy voice had come from. Obviously Tanner had a bad influence on her.

Or a good one.

Maybe.

She had all night to decide.