First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 (40 page)

Her mother’s old, full-length terry bathrobe still hung on the back of the bathroom door. Keri shook the dust off it, pulled it on and cinched the belt at her waist. She wrapped a towel around her head turban style. Body shaking with nerves and still struggling for breath, she searched the bathroom cupboard. After finding a jar of pasty white cleansing cream, she slathered it on her overheated cheeks.

Now she looked as though she’d just climbed from the shower except she smelled of sweat and fear. The dogs would tear her apart if the militia men didn’t shoot first and ask questions later. Another quick search unearthed some old talcum powder. Partially caked, she thumped the container against the sink and then powdered herself liberally.

The suffocating cloud of sweet-smelling dust gagged her and threw her into a coughing fit. She’d just caught her breath again when the banging started at the front door. Someone yelled her name. Russ. He’d sure made good time.

“Coming!” The walk to the door helped her steady her nerves and breathing. Switching on the living room light, she approached the front door with one last deep breath.

“Who’s there?”

“Keri, it’s Russ. Open up!”

Her hand shook as she grabbed the door knob, and she willed herself to settle down. Opening it just a crack, she saw Russ and three other men in full combat gear. The dogs went wild at the sight of her. Teeth bared, they leapt in the air, straining against their leashes. She quickly slammed the door again.

“Get rid of them!”

He gave an order. When the sounds of their barking diminished, she cracked the door again.

“Russ, it’s late. What in the world are you doing here?” Then inspiration struck, and she allowed some of her panic to show.

“Dad? Has something happened to Dad?”

“No, no.” He shook his head and stepped closer.

“Jack?”

“No, nothing’s wrong with either one.”

“Then why in the world are you here with those vicious animals?” she asked, hoping she sounded more indignant than scared. “They sure aren’t coon hounds!”

“We had intruders at the compound. The dogs followed the scent back here.”

“Well, that’s no big surprise. My scent is probably the only human one in the woods.”

“You haven’t seen or heard anything tonight?”

“How could I hear anything with all that racket?”

She could still hear the dogs, but their handler had moved them out of sight. She nudged the door open a little farther, not wanting him or his hostile buddies to think she had anything to hide.

“Maybe the rotten thieves who stole my gas were trying to steal something from your camp.”

“Thieves?” he snapped, his expression going grimmer. “What thieves? You never mentioned ‘em to me.”

“I filled my car at the station when I came up, but someone emptied my tank that same night.”

“Did you call your dad or report it to anyone?”

She nodded, almost dislodging her towel. Holding it steady, she replied. “Dwayne stopped the next morning and gave me enough to get back down the mountain. If the thief or thieves are hiding out in the woods, I hope you track ‘em down and feed ‘em to the dogs.”

“If they’re still out here, we’ll find ‘em,” he promised in his tough-guy tone. “I’ll leave a sentry here tonight to keep watch over you.”

“Forget the sentry,” she snapped, glancing at the cold, expressionless faces of his pals. They weren’t even breathing hard. She gave them each a warning glare. “If I see any strange men lurking around the cabin, I’ll shoot them myself and ask questions later.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get all fired up. We probably scared off the intruders. Just lock your doors and be watchful.”

Keri managed a smile for him. “Thanks, Russ. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’m not stupid or careless. I’ve had caution drilled into me since my toddler years.”

He bobbed his head. “I reckon you have.”

“Now I really want to finish getting ready for bed.”

“Sure, you have a good night,” he said, taking a step back from the door.

“Good night.”

She closed the door, threw the deadbolt into place and switched off the lights. Taking a step toward the bedroom, she nudged aside the curtain and watched out the window until they’d all moved from sight.

“Damn, you’re good.” The whispered praise reached her ears seconds before a strong arm nudged her back against the wall. Lamanto pressed his body close to hers. The heat radiating from their bodies fused them together. One of his hands slipped beneath the opening of the robe and clasped her waist. His hot touch sent fire coursing through her.

Keri lifted her hands to his chest and felt the mad pounding of his heart. Her heart beat a matching rhythm as she tipped her head back to look into his eyes. Relief made her giddy. Her response came out low and husky.

“You don’t know the half of it, Detective.”

He dipped his head low until his mouth just brushed hers. “Ever consider a career in undercover?”

“Undercover as in police work or undercover as in bed?”

Her sexual innuendo drew a pained sound from him. His guttural moan deepened her smile. He pressed himself closer and started to spread kisses over her face. The cleansing cream had him spitting and backing off.

“What the hell?”

Keri giggled. She’d never been the giddy type, but once she started giggling, she couldn’t stop. The sounds kept slipping past her throat, one after another after another. He made a low sound of warning, but it just tickled her more. She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but the feel of the stinky cream on her face stirred another round of the giggles. Using the sleeves of the bathrobe, she swiped at her cheeks as tears ran down her face.

He locked his good arm around her waist and practically dragged her to the bed. Her body shook with laughter verging on hysteria. He shoved her down on the mattress and followed. She continued to laugh until he draped his body across hers and squished the breath out of her.

When she gazed into his eyes and saw the concern on his face, it made her giggle again.

When his frown deepened, she asked, “What’s wrong, Copper? Didn’t they teach you how to deal with hysterical women in cop school?”

In response, he dropped his mouth onto hers, kissing her hard and deep. His tongue invaded and swiftly conquered. Within seconds all her emotional tension found a new release in his kisses. Keri welcomed the hot, passionate invasion with fervor.

She put her arms around his waist and gripped him tightly, sliding her hands under his clothes to reach warm, damp flesh. The feel of him reassured, comforted and inflamed her. So many conflicting emotions whirled through her, with the joy of being safe in his arms superseding the others.

They finally broke off the kiss and stared at each other in the dim light. Lamanto supported most of his weight with his good arm, with his injured one resting on the bed. Keri knew the position had to be uncomfortable for him. She rolled sideways, easing him with her. When they lay face-to-face, they continued to search each other’s features.

“At the risk of another giggle fest, I have to tell you that you really stink, lady. What’s all that sour-smelling stuff on your face and the sickening-sweet stuff on the rest of you?”

She grinned. “Menthol cleanser on the face. Talcum powder on the rest of me. I had to do something to disguise the BO.”

“You succeeded. No wonder the dogs went berserk.”

She shuddered. “They did track my scent. I wonder how crazy they acted in the woods.”

“I heard ‘em racing around the propane tank shortly after I locked myself in. I figured they’d start digging at the trap door, but they moved on.”

“No trouble in the tunnel?”

“Pitch-black, but it’s tight enough to find your way.”

“How badly is your arm aching?”

“Like a sonofabitch.”

Keri reached over and touched his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if the dampness stemmed from sweat or if he’d pulled his stitches. “I’ll have to check it as soon as we’ve cleaned up. By the way, you do not smell like roses yourself.”

“It was worth some sweat and pain to get a look at that compound. I would’ve liked to get inside the fence, but an outside look confirmed my suspicions.”

“Not your typical backwoods militia camp,” she said on a sad sigh.

“No.”

“What’s happening over there?”

“A terrorist camp with a dangerous agenda.”

“What’s your connection to all this? Your coming to Thornsbury can’t be a coincidence.”

She stiffened when he hesitated too long. After all they’d been through in the past few days, she deserved more respect and his trust.

Available June 2012

Three Weddings and a Murder

By Tessa Dare, Leigh LaValle, Courtney Milan

and Carey Baldwin

Four friends who care have each contributed their own story to bring you this very special anthology. You’ll enjoy three historical romances and one romantic thriller—four distinct voices united for one cause. All profits from the purchase of the anthology will be donated to the Avon Breast Cancer Walk. Funds will be used to support research to find a cure or prevention for breast cancer and for outreach programs with an emphasis on assisting low-income, elderly and minority individuals. Find out more at
www.CareyBaldwin.com

Note from Carey:

Whether you love humor, heart, or thrills there’s something for you in this anthology. And guess who wrote the murder! My story, Solomon’s Wisdom, is a friends-to-lovers tale with a deadly twist. I’m delighted to share the page with these three extraordinarily talented authors and to be a part of the wonderful community of romance readers and writers. Please help us make a difference and get yourself a rockin’ good read in the process.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Solomon’s Wisdom:

Anna Kincaid was the turned-down page-corner in the book of Charlie Drexler’s life. With a placeholder like Anna, he had to question his decision to skip ahead in the first place. But firefly nights of long ago and not-so-forgotten memories aside, the sight of Anna picking her way across the summer grass, precariously balancing a tray of, yes sir, those were deviled eggs all right, would still have knocked the wind out of him.

Dream girl walking.

The corn-silk hair she’d crimped as a teen whipped long and naturally straight behind her, maybe because straight hair was the current fashion, but he rather hoped it was because she’d finally realized she was goddamn beautiful in her own right. A white cotton dress with spaghetti straps slipping off bronzed shoulders conjured sensuality from innocence, and the curve of her hips backlit by a setting sun shamelessly reminded him he was a man who’d been buried in the books for far too long. His heartbeat hesitated, and then kicked up with the wind that carried the familiar scent of her vanilla soap.

Eschewing the vanity of perfume, Anna had always opted for natural scents and handmade soaps. To his way of thinking, her fancy soaps might be a natural, organic vanity, but they were a vanity all the same. Yet year after year he’d bitten back the urge to point out the flaw in her reasoning simply because he flat out loved the way she smelled.

The way she smelled.

The way she shook back her hair when she laughed.

The way she moved.

And unlike times past, today he wasn’t the only one taking notice of Anna. An overfed blue jay pecking the corncob bait on the railing of the Carlisle front porch paused to crane its neck and jabber a compliment as, with downcast eyes, Anna sideways-climbed the tricky steps. On second thought, maybe it wasn’t the steps that were tricky, maybe it was balancing those eggs in high heels. High heels that showed off a pair of amazing gastrocnemius muscles. All he really knew was that he wanted Anna to look up. And when she saw him, he wanted her to smile.

Raking a hand through his hair, he waited for the moment of truth. Anna reached the top, stepped onto the porch, looked up, and stopped dead in her tracks. Helpless to contain the excitement welling inside him, he grinned—quite possibly beamed—at her. Anna’s mouth, on the other hand, didn’t roll out of its peppermint-pink bow. Her ridiculously blue eyes didn’t crinkle at the edges, and she didn’t offer so much as a glimmer of the smile that had hounded him for more than ten years. If she had, he might’ve never recovered the breath to speak. “Hello, Peaches.”

“Charlie.”

His worst fear had been that the Anna of his boyhood would tromp up the steps and rage at him, and he’d prepared himself for the worst. Or so he’d thought. What he hadn’t prepared himself for was this. This neutral look on her face. This indifferent demeanor. It was as if Anna simply didn’t care one way or another that he’d returned to her with an open mind, determined to find out what he’d missed. It was as if the girl who’d looked up to him, who’d, let’s face it,
worshipped
him, didn’t care one way or another that he’d come home.

His chest deflated…briefly. But he was never one to stay down for the count. “Care to dance?” He grabbed her by the hand, pulled it high above her head and twirled her beneath his arm.