Page 60 of Deadly Attraction
Chapter Thirteen
Emma sank her hands into the hot dishwater and found herself staring at the sheen of rainbows on the multitude of bubbles.
Rainbows. She hadn’t seen one of those in a long time. Even in a sink full of dirty dishes from her evening meal with Mitch, the soft colors warmed her heart, made her feel happy.
They’d finished their journey to the park, the entrance on the south side nothing more than a footpath through the woods. A rusty gate that had once been green blocked the path, but there hadn’t even been a sign announcing it was national park territory.
The chain and padlock on the gate hadn’t kept someone from using the entrance—a bolt cutter had severed the heavy chain. Tire tracks from a motorcycle were hidden by brush that Mitch had pulled back. Probably where the arsonist had hidden the bike.
While Emma had stayed on her horse, Mitch had stood for a long time at that gate, sizing up the ground, the gate itself, and what lay on the other side, inside the park. He’d taken pictures of the broken chain and the scuff marks in the dry ground that showed the gate had been swung open and closed again. He took a million photos of the motorcycle tracks hidden under the bush.
Thankfully, that section of the park had not gone up in the fire, but it was still too dangerous for them to enter, Mitch had said. Emma figured he didn’t want her and the horses messing up any potential evidence. He’d swung himself over the fence nearby in order to check the other side of the trail. He’d come back convinced that his arsonist had used this exit after setting the initial fire. He also told her he was betting his badge on the fact that Linda Brown had played a part.
On the way back to the ranch, they’d stopped at Emma’s homemade gun range, but she’d been so nervous about Mitch’s nearness, she’d given up practicing after 10 minutes.
The harder she’d tried to relax, the more anxious she had become. He’d been lighthearted, happy with his evidence, and had joked with her, laughed at her meager attempts, and seemed completely at ease.
Meanwhile, every look he gave her sent her heart fluttering. Every suggestive touch had caused her pulse to hopscotch over itself. Even with his instructions, she hadn’t been able to hit a damn thing. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus on her mark. All she could see and zoom in on was Mitch.
As the apple pie in the oven warmed for their dessert, she admitted to herself that Mitch was a nice distraction. One that even now messed with her heart and emotions as he paced the living room floor and spoke in soft tones to his immediate supervisor, Cooper Harris.
“It had to be Gordon,” Mitch said, “but he had help. There was one set of motorcycle tire imprints in the dirt at that old entrance, but there were two sets of footprints. One smaller than the other. Dr. Collins and I also found what she termed an altar to the Tom Monahan character fromThe Mary Monahan Chronicles. I’ll forward the photos I shot of both sites, and as soon as I can, I’ll get you the forensic evidence I nabbed. I’m betting Linda Brown was in on the arson as well as the accident to get Goodsman free.”
There was a pause as Mitch listened. The smell of warm apples and spices filled the kitchen. Emma filled the coffee maker with decaf grounds and flipped the switch. As it brewed, she began washing the dishes.
All through dinner, Mitch had been quiet, his mind seeming to be distracted by the evidence they’d found. More than once, she’d felt his eyes on her, though, as if he kept circling back around to the tension between them.
They’d been at odds since he’d arrived, but everything had changed that morning in her office on the floor. It had been two years since she’d felt that kind of zing, that particular concoction of desire and need.
Mitch found her interesting; her analysis of him piquing his curiosity. He found her attractive as well. She saw it in the way he looked at her. Lookedintoher, as if he could see what her heart was made of.
She felt it in the way he touched her when he didn’t really need to touch her. Gentle holds when helping her on and off her horse that only hinted at the power and strength inside him that could make her come apart a dozen times tonight if she wanted.
That interest had turned into something deeper. She stimulated his mind and set his libido on fire. He did the same to her.
In the old TV shows she sometimes watched, there was often a scientist who played with two inert ingredients, mixing them together and creating a concoction that could blow things sky high. That was how she felt when she got close to Mitch, when he stared at her with those sad eyes that saw past her professional smile and detached facade. If she let his volatile liquid mix with hers…boom. They might start their own version of a wildfire.
One that would burn her heart to a crisp and leave her in a pile of ashes.
Was it worth the risk? Her body hummed with a lust that wouldn’t be quenched until she acted on it, her heart already layering on protective shields.Another type of rift, the therapist inside her acknowledged. Allowing her damaged heart to stay hidden behind those barriers of protection while the rest of her went on the journey of seduction.
If the female inside her was any good at reading the signs, her seduction wouldn’t be all that strenuous. Mitch had sent out plenty of signals all day that he wanted more than a kiss from her. All she had to do was invite him to her room tonight.
Finishing the dishes, Emma dried her shaky hands. The dogs were fed, the horses taken care of. Night had come and the farmhouse was semi-dark, only lit by candles once again. The coffee finished brewing and the timer on the stove went off, alerting her that the pie was done. As soon as Mitch sent his photos off to his boss…
All mine.
Emma’s heart quivered. She felt lightheaded.
What is wrong with me?
It wasn’t like she was a teenaged girl seducing a boy for the first time. Nor was the subject of her quest immune to her. Mitch oozed pheromones and his body had no doubt been picking up on the flood of hers. Human nature was such that men and women understood the subtle cues of sex without great need for explanation. A look, a gesture, was all it took—especially since the stage was already set—to get her invitation across.
“I didn’t mean to leave the cleanup all to you.”
Emma jumped and whirled. “Oh, it was no problem. Really. I just… I’m glad you’re here to share a meal with.”
She gave him her practiced smile, hoping to create some distance between them for a moment. Her body might be ready to throw out its invitation, but her heart and mind were still catching up.
