Page 21 of The Heat is On

She wanted to do something territorial, like tell her to not get him into any more fights. But really, it wasn’t any of her business. Instead, she offered a smile that suggested she knew exactly what might be going on in this corner of the forest.

Then she turned and hiked up the hill into the golden spray of the Alaskan midnight, where hopefully the memories wouldn’t chase her.

Because she knew bad boys too well. Knew her weakness for them, the lure to hunt for the good inside.

The pull to believe she could find it and fix them.

Most of all, she knew that if she let it, Rio Parker’s haunted expression could call her back, despite his warning.

And then she’d really be in over her head.

Four

Rio’s entire body had turned to fire. And yes, it might be due to the backbreaking hours of digging, of folding earth over onto itself, choking back ash and smoke and working so hard his muscles turned molten.

Or, it could be the simple touch of kindness. The way Skye Doyle had let her fingertips brush his, a human touch not given in violence or control or even malice.

A fleeting second, but one that had nearly undone him, set his body to a warm hum.

He leaned his head against the tree, staring out into the shadows that hovered over the blackened meadow. The cutout of black mountains against a burnt crimson sky. The Alaskan midnight.

And Skye was out there, watching it, also. She had hiked up the ridge and disappeared down the other side and now sat in lonely vigil as the sun settled into coals on the mountainside.

Rio, meanwhile had turned sentry over the professor, suspected murderer Clancy Smythe-slash-Eugene March, who was probably feigning sleep ten feet away, curled into a ball under his camp blanket. Why the US marshal hadn’t cuffed him while she waited for tomorrow’s transport confounded him—he could only imagine she harbored the same thought everyone else did…where would he run out here?

Perhaps she also believed that she might be able to stop him. Because every time Rio glanced her direction, she too had her eyes glued to March.

Although, the redolence of the pseudo campfire smoke mixed with the dusty shadows conspired against his best intentions. His eyes drifted shut, at least twice.

Rio woke with a start, glanced at March.

Still there, unmoving. Another glance at the US marshal. She had her arms folded, staring into the night. Tucker slouched against her, dead to the world.

That’s all it took for Rio’s mind to return to Skye. He closed his eyes, just to let her sit there a moment. He had wanted to reach out and touch her braid, run his fingers over the thick grooves of it. His name on her lips whispered through his memory, ignited a trail of heat.Nice to meet you, Rio. Beautiful aqua-gray eyes—he could stare at them all day, following the variegated lines of deep blue and silver. And the way she wrinkled her nose when she smiled or was embarrassed…

He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but he hadn’t exactly known what to say to her question about how he ended up in Alaska.It’s a long story, with a sad beginning and…well, a not great ending.

All truth, really, but not the one she suspected. His started with a normal family, a kid brother, a beautiful baby sister. Two parents who loved them all.

Then, the unthinkable had happened. Sometimes he was right back in the past, the cold whistling through the door as the police stood on the porch, his mother’s screams echoing into the night. Then the sirens, the rank odors of Cook County Hospital.

For a moment Rio had very much wished he could tell Skye the truth.

See how she’d look at him if she knew he wasn’t a criminal.

Although, even to his own eyes, the line between right and wrong, criminal and hero seemed thinly drawn.

Rio took a breath and opened his eyes. Stared out at the glimmering sun starting to rise in the northeast, the folds of gold that pressed against a dark fiery mantle, the jagged white-capped peaks glinting in splendor.

His last day of pseudo freedom.

He glanced over at March and stilled.

What—?

Gone.

The grasses matted, but the space he’d occupied was empty.

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