Free Tallchief for Keeps by Cait London Page B

Saturday night, Amen Flats’s single street was busy. Birk’s motorcycle and Lacey’s truck were parked at Maddy’s Hot Spot. Carefully choosing her site on the field overlooking Amen Flats, Elspeth kneeled to unroll the blanket she’d draped across her shoulder. The occupants of the grass field—a buffalo herd—grazed peacefully a safe distance away. She took out her binoculars and notebook, braced the thermos of hot jasmine tea against a fallen limb and lay, stomach down, upon the blanket. She needed to escape the sight of Alek fighting his demons, his fists bunched, his body taut as he stared at the dying fire.
    Elspeth knew he thought of wars and the fire and his wife. She shook her head, tossing the past away into the fragrant April night. Elspeth applied herself to the task she enjoyed, that of protecting Amen Flats in a subtle but effective way. Angela Tremany had been stalking Alek for two weeks. But Angela was also pressuring a younger man with a wife and newborn son. Angela’s past record said she could be successful, the hunt more satisfying than keeping what she had caught. Alek could take care of himself, but young Stephen needed protection. And Angela did not want to lose her wealthy older husband.
    Angela’s silver sports car cruised down Amen Flats’s main street, then parked in the lot behind Stephen’s office. Elspeth jotted the time in her notebook and picked up her binoculars. Dressed in a bustier, a thigh-revealing skirt and huge sunglasses, Angela slid into the office door.
    A branch broke near her, and before Elspeth could I jump to her feet, a big hand flattened on her back, staying her.
    “My, my. Look what we have here,” Alek drawled as he crouched beside her. Dressed in a black shirt and black jeans, Alek looked as if he could face any street gang. His shoulder-length hair curled damply to his shoulders; the moonlight caught on his scarred lip and skimmed across his broad shoulders. He’d showered, the soap scent clinging to him, blending with the fresh spring-earth fragrances.
    Elspeth allowed him to turn her; shedidn’t protest as he eased her knitted cap from her hair and smoothed her single braid to her chest. She wouldn’t fight him on any level, and soon he’d get bored. “I thought you were roasting marshmallows.”
    “This is more fun. What are you doing?”
    Elspeth glared up at him. “Let me up.”
    “Sorry. Can’t. You look too good that way.” His amusement threatened her control, and his hand, I though firm, gently held her wrist.
    “I don’t want to hurt you,Alek.”
    “Try, why don’t you….” He issued the invitation I in a slow Texas drawl and blew a kiss at her.
    She moved quickly, but Alek’s largehand splayed between her breasts, pushing her back. She lay quietly, barely breathing as he looked slowly down to his hand on her black sweater. He frowned, smoothing the softness gently, his fingertips trembling. His tone was deep and raw and achingly uneven. “Elspeth—”
    Elspeth shifted restlessly. She wanted to clasp Alek’s hand against her, to take his mouth. But kissing Alek meant she’d be opening herself. “I don’t want to go over this again.”
    “No? Your heart is racingbeneath my hand.” His thumb moved, sweeping across the hardened tip of her breast. She gasped, trying to shield her emotions and failing.
    Alek leaned closer, his black eyes gleaming inthe night. “I’ll have what I want from you, Elspeth—Petrovna’s law. We finish what we begin.” Then he bent to pull her against him.
    For a heartbeat, she let down her guard, feeling very feminine, delicate and soft—then the hair lifted on the nape of her neck. This was Alek, a man bent on revenge.
    His lips moved against her ear, sending tingles downher body. “So this is what you do before you go to the theater on Saturday nights and collect your free tub of popcorn. This is why Duncan and Calum don’t want their wives with you on a Saturday night—you’re a troublemaker,