He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse beating wildly there.
When Pierce realized she was just as affected by him as he was her, he continued his assault, tossing her shirt to the floor. He unclasped her bra, easing the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, his gaze following its progress as her breasts sprang free. He cupped one in his palm and touched the rigid nipple with the tip of his tongue, lost in the taste of her.
Her chest rose on a gasp, her head falling back. Roxanne’s hand reached out to circle Pierce’s neck, bringing him closer so that he could suck the nipple into his mouth, pulling hard.
Her other hand groped for the top button of his jeans, fumbling with the hard metal rivet. His head rose and he stared down into her smoky blue gaze, seeing the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman who was his equal, his soul mate, the only one for him. He pulled her hard against his chest and held her, giving in to the way it felt to have her back in his arms. He wanted her so badly his entire body shook with his need.
He had difficulty forcing his thoughts beyond the moment. If he followed his base instincts, he’d throw caution to the wind and take her there, in the darkness of the cave, their naked bodies writhing in the firelight.
But if he did that, she’d never forgive him. When they both came to their senses, Roxanne would remember all the reasons she had to despise him, all the reasons they would never be a couple again, never have a future together.
Pierce dragged in a deep breath and let it out, loosening his hold on her.
This was Roxanne. The woman he still loved with all his heart. The sister of one of the men whose death was his fault.
Pierce couldn’t change the past or undo what had happened to Roxanne’s brother. He couldn’t stop her hating him and hadn’t been able to keep her from leaving; nor had he tried. Today was the first time they’d managed to even have a conversation since ending their engagement, and it had been more than enough to show him how angry she still was. Right now, she was cold, and scared, and hurting and she was willing to let his touch make the world go away for a while, but it wouldn’t last. Making love to her wouldn’t change anything. She still hated him and no matter how perfect she’d been for him, Special Agent Pierce Thunder Horse was the wrong man for her.
He tugged her bra straps up over her shoulders and eased them both down to sit near the campfire, holding her close to share his body warmth.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
“No. It shouldn’t have.” He didn’t try to kiss her again.
She leaned her head against his chest. “It won’t happen again.”
“Count on it.” He held her into the night as she fell into a troubled sleep. She clung to him, her body shaking, her head twisting back and forth as nightmares disturbed her slumber. Because of her possible concussion, he had an excuse to wake her from her dreams every two hours.
In the small hours of the morning, Pierce spooned her body against his, his gaze on the dying embers of the fire, his thoughts swirling around the shooting, the dirt bike, Roxanne and the bullet and wrapper they’d found in the cave.
Sleep escaped him with her body close to his and the wad of evidence in his pocket. The more he mulled over everything, the more dread filled his chest, crushing him with worry.
Whatever Roxanne had stumbled on that had caused the shooter to attack, it was much bigger than some idiot taking potshots at wild horses.
If he wasn’t mistaken, the piece of plastic and the claylike substance clinging to it wasn’t a candy wrapper for gum, but the packaging used around plastic explosives.
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