Heroes In Uniform (298 page)

“You know why,” she rasped.

It shouldn't feel so erotic, so sinful, when he slipped his fingers under a half-inch ribbon of silk. But it did, and she was nearly undone by it. She wanted him to slide the ribbons off her shoulders and let her dress fall to the floor. Her hands crept around his neck.

“Tell me,” he whispered in a gravelly voice. “Are you wearing any underwear at all?”

Closing her eyes against the sizzling pool of desire left in the wake of his words and his fingers, she licked her parched lips. The sudden thrill burning through her concentrated her whole body's moisture in one place, and it wasn't her mouth.

“No,” she whispered.

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Sixty-Nine

Cooper groaned, and pressed both hands into the curve of Maggie's lush ass, momentarily forgetting the dance, just breathing in the perfumed scent of her skin and her hair. His cock grew hard against her belly.

“Woman—” His voice cracked.

With an effort, he started moving his feet to the music again. He had to keep talking, or he'd lose it right then and there.

He tried again. “Woman, tell me about this dream you had.”

She shook her head against his jaw, and her hands quivered on his shoulders. “No.”

“Tell me the rest. What you didn't tell Gina.”

She squirmed in his arms, trying to push away from him. “I told her everything.”

He held her body close, his hands gliding over the delicate film of silk covering it. “Who was the man, Maggie? The warrior?”

“I don't know.”

She was lying.

“It was me, wasn't it?” He slipped his thigh between her legs.

The throng of dancers crushed in on them, pushing her even closer against him. She burrowed into his shoulder. “Fine. It was you.”

“What I'm wondering,” he said, running his fingers up through her hair and rubbing lazy circles at the base of her neck, “is why a
wasichu
woman is having Cree hunting dreams.”

She looked up at him uncomprehendingly, and shook her head.

He captured her eyes, probing, and held them until he was absolutely convinced she was innocent of any deception. He didn't know how or why, but the Dreamers had chosen to send a hunting dream to her instead of him. Satisfied, he let his hands slowly slide all the way down her back.

“Before the hunt,” he explained quietly, “we ask for the dreams to come, to show us how the hunt will go.” He lowered his voice and massaged her ass, gently, rhythmically pushing her hips into his. “If a man dreams of his lover, it is said he will kill a caribou.”

As he talked, her eyes darkened, softened, reflecting the lights of a thousand colored lanterns and candles. They were barely moving now, swaying to the sensual rhythms of the music and the inner throbbing of their bodies. She had to feel his powerful erection through the thin silk of her dress. He definitely felt every curve and hollow of her body. And the heat between her legs, bringing his cock to even greater heights.

She wound her arms tight around his neck. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head, resting her temple against his jaw, her nose and mouth buried in his neck. He could feel her breath on his skin, warm and uneven.

“In your dream, did you want the arrow?” he asked, his voice coming out thick and rough.

She nodded, and he felt her desire for him. For the sweet sting of his arrow.

“I have had dreams too, little pup.” He used his voice to soothe her fears, weaving a web of surrender around her will. “Dreams where you came to me, and you were my woman. In every way possible.” He edged his mouth closer to hers. “We are meant to be together,” he whispered. His lips were a hair's width from hers. “The Owner has called to us.”

“Miss Johansen?” The urgent voice came from far away, then got louder and more insistent. “Miss Maggie Johansen?”

Coop ground his jaw at the untimely interruption.
You can’t be serious.

She blinked several times, then turned uncertainly toward the voice calling her name. “Y-yes? I'm Maggie Johansen.”

A young man wearing the white shirt and checked bandanna of the catering team came up to them. “Telephone call, Miss Johansen. From someone named Dinny.”

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Seventy

Dinny?

Maggie halted in her tracks and clutched Cooper's arm. What was so important that Dinny would track her down at the barbecue and send a waiter out into a throng of five hundred people to find her?

She looked up at Cooper, surprised by the mask of rancor and bitterness that suddenly shadowed his face.

With a violent start, she remembered who she was and why she was in hiding.

And why she had to avoid him
.

She gasped, and dropped his arms. “I’m sorry, Cooper,” she whispered. Was Dinny calling with a warning that Whitney had found her? “I have to get this. It could be important.”

“Maggie,” Cooper implored. “Don't go. Please.”

She shook her head, growing more desperate.
They could both be in danger
.

He took a step toward her. “You don't need him. I can protect you.” He grasped her arm. “It'll be all right.”

She jerked herself free and put her hands out in front of her body, an ineffectual shield against him. Against the pain. “No. You don't understand. It wouldn't be right.”

“
We
are right, baby. You and me. I know all about you, what you’re doing. Stay with me, Maggie.”

He knew about the trial? How?
Why hadn’t he said anything?

“I’m sorry.”

He stretched out a hand to her. She backed away from him, bumping into people, stumbling against chairs.

“Don't make me come after you,” he called. “Don't ruin your life over this.
Maggie, please
.”

With a strangled cry, she turned and fled toward the ranch house.

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Seventy-One

Coop let out a growl. Dinny Paxton was calling her? Well, at least now he knew there was a definite connection between the two.

Damnation
. What kind of control did that poacher have over her, anyway? How could he help her break the criminal's hold?

Gina's words echoed in his mind...

You'll have to steal her power before she'll listen to you
.

Steal her power. Right. And just how was he supposed to do that? He couldn't even get the dreams right.
She’d
had his damn dream.

Roland Timmons sauntered up to him and handed him one of two short glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid. “Hate to see a man drink alone.”

Just what he fucking needed
.

Coop reluctantly accepted the glass and tossed back the contents. The liquor curled down his throat like a red-hot serpent, insinuating itself into a burning coil in his belly. Gradually, its venom took hold, and his frustration turned to blackness.

Timmons pursed his lips. “Thought for sure you had her, there. Bit rough at the end, though.”

Coop continued to stare after Maggie, thoughts of her and Dinny the poacher roiling in his brain.

When he remained silent, Timmons refilled his glass from the bottle he had tucked under an arm. “The lady's certainly got a mind of her own.”

Coop had nothing to say to that. But he swallowed the liquid snake-bite.

Timmons smiled pleasantly. “Gave it a try earlier today, myself. Didn't have any luck, either.”

“Don't try it again,” Coop snarled, unmoving. “My niece would just love some nice blond hair for her doll-making.”

Timmons gave a laugh. “Cute. No wonder the sheriff thinks you’re a terrorist.”

Coop clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’m not a damn terrorist. My cousin once shot an FBI agent in the ass with a bow and arrow. They took exception.”

Timmons laughed harder. “I like him already.”

Of course, there was the blown up damn, too. But the arrow in the ass made a better story.

“I’m more of a shotgun guy, myself,” Coop said. “I’d stay away from Maggie, if I were you.”

“Normally, I'd take that as a good healthy challenge,” Timmons said after a last chuckle. “But there's no fun in competing when the outcome’s already decided.”

Cooper turned to him. “Nothing's decided. That's the damn problem.”

Timmons’ brow went up. “For someone with your obvious experience, you don't know much about women, do you?”

Coop glowered at him through a haze of red lantern light.

Timmons glanced off in the direction where Maggie had disappeared. “I saw the way she looked at you,” he said. “That woman is not fighting you, she's fighting herself.”

Everyone was a goddamn psychiatrist. Coop grudgingly said, “Okay, so what do I do, Dr. Phil?”

The other man shrugged. “Not much you can do. These things are usually a moral dilemma of some kind. Just kick back, and see who wins.”

Coop rolled his eyes skyward. “Awesome. You've really been a big help.”

Timmons chuckled and held up the bottle, offering him a refill in consolation. “Forget her tonight. Have another drink. What do you say we take a peek at Conrad's trophy room? I hear he's got a stuffed grizzly as big as a barn.”

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Seventy-Two

“Maggie? Is that you?” Dinny sounded like he was in the next room, instead of six hundred miles away. “Finally!”

“Dinny! What's wrong?” Maggie's strained voice crept up two octaves. “Where are you?”

“Still in L.A., sweetheart. Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself.”

“Dinny, please. What's going on?” She moved over to the window as she talked.

“Okay. I don't know if this is anything,” he said, “but I thought I should let you know. I just got a call from Jane. She said her phone was bugged.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped, and all thoughts of Cooper vanished. “My God. I thought she was kidding about that detective.”

Dinny’s tone grew harsh. “You know, I could have sworn I ordered you not to contact a living soul while you’re in hiding. Not even your dying grandmother.”

“I’m sorry. I just... I needed someone to talk to.” Maggie sighed. “Besides, Jane already knows about Whitney and the trial.”

“Well, I'm afraid it might be Whitney who bugged her phone. Maybe he found out it was you and Jane who tipped us off to him.”

That would not be good. Maggie thought frantically over her conversations with Jane. “We’ve been super careful when we talk. I never said where I was. We never even used names.”

“Do
not
do it again,” he clipped out. “I think I should bring you into protective custody.”

Her heart sank. “No. I promise I’ll be good.” Cooper had just told her he knew what she was doing. She had a feeling she’d be a lot safer with him protecting her than the FBI. They’d already lost three other witnesses. As in, permanently.

Dinny's breath jetted into the mouthpiece. “Has anything else happened to make you think Whitney might be getting close? Anything at all suspicious?”

“Just the guy in the blue sedan. Did you find out who he is?”

“You can relax about him. He’s not Whitney’s man. The plate’s registered to a Fish and Wildlife warden out of Redding. I've left a message for him to call me, but I’m thinking he was just running a routine check on you because you reported those dead bears.”

“Fish and Wildlife?” She turned away from the window and sank into the nearest chair in relief. “Cooper put a tail on me?”

“Not Cooper, CDFW.”

“Yeah. He works for them.”

“Cooper Blue Wolf? No way.”

“Blue Wolf Cooper. Cooper is his last name.”

“No. Cooper Blue Wolf. I ran a check when Iris reported your concerns about him. You were right to be. He’s from Canada and his cousin is a convicted terrorist.”

That’s what the sheriff had said earlier. Somebody must have their wires crossed.

“I saw his ID. He lives in Sacramento,” she told Dinny. “And I spoke with his office this morning. They confirmed he works there.”

Dinny was silent for a long moment. “You’re sounding awful cozy. You told Iris you were afraid of him.”

“That was before.” Had it only been a few days ago? It felt like a hundred years.

Dinny exhaled. “You haven't told him anything, have you? About the trial?”

She straightened. “No, but... You haven’t talked to him?”

Dinny hesitated. Then asked cautiously, “Why would I have talked to him?”

She frowned. If he hadn’t, how did Cooper know about her situation?

Her pulse kicked up a notch. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Maggie, listen to me. I don't want you going near that man. I'm going to check him out again, but I want you to steer clear of him, just in case.”

A chill swept over her. “In case what, Dinny? In case he works for Whitney?”

“I didn't say that. But I’m not taking any chances. Keep your gun on you at all times, and that’s an order. I'll be on the first flight up there in the morning. If I need to, I’ll bring a warrant.”

A warrant for what? She was getting a very bad feeling about Dinny’s suspicions.

She said, “The sheriff told me a couple of men came into the station this afternoon asking about Cooper.”

Again, the line went silent. And suddenly, it all clicked in her mind.
The mistaken identity. Cooper’s bruised face
...

“Dinny?”

“If those damn idiots tipped him off—”

Anger swept through her. “Who were they?”

“After I read his file, I contacted the Redding field office and asked if they had any intel on him or the cousin being in the area. They must have decided to check him out.”

“They beat him up.”

“God
damn
it. I told them
not
to make contact.”

“They threatened him, told him to leave me alone.”

A string of obscenities made her hold the phone out from her ear. Dinny ended his tirade with, “Heads are going to roll, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

“As long as it’s not mine,” she muttered. “Or Cooper’s.”

“Keep your gun close,” he told her. “Stay safe, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Seventy-Three