Dance with the Devil. Sandy Curtis
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realisation that it could take days to actually die. The memory clenched fear in his belly again and he almost didn't register Emma's words.
'We had purple lightning here too. There was a storm before the cyclone started. Weirdest thing I've ever seen. The air was alive with electricity - it drove the horses and the dogs wild. So did the woman set you free?'
'I think so. I must have passed out - I was still pretty drugged - because the next thing I remember someone, I think it was the woman, was slapping my face and crying, and pleading with me to get up. She helped me into a van. Then I passed out again. I woke up as I was pushed from the van down an embankment. By the time I got the hood off my face, all I could see was a white van, with what looked like a blue stripe on the side, driving away. It wasn't close enough for me to get the licence plate number. The cyclone had started so I found some shelter in a rocky outcrop and waited until the lull. Then I started walking here.'
'How did you know where to come?'
'I could see the buildings from where I sheltered.'
'You must have been dropped close to our property gates.' Excitement shone in her eyes, making them sparkle, and Drew fought the urge to hold her once again to his chest, feel her softness melt into him.
'Which could mean that whoever dumped me knew you were a doctor - and that means they could be someone local. Do you know everyone in the valley, Emma?'
It was a relief to start functioning again, to feel his brain click into gear. The drugs were finally leaving his system, allowing his mind to focus. But he couldn't prevent the way his body refused to change focus. Every nerve ending was tuned to Emma's slightest movement, and when she shrugged her shoulders and her shirt pulled against her firm breasts, the resultant flare of heat in his groin had him silently cursing his too-tight shorts.
'I'm afraid not. I've only been back here a year. Not everyone comes to my surgery. But those that do, I'd swear had nothing to do with hurting you.'
She raised her hand as though to touch his chest, then stopped. A fleeting tremor rippled through her body, so swift he almost thought he'd imagined it, but when she spoke again her voice was husky.
'Please lie down on your stomach. I want to check your back. All that digging wouldn't have helped those cuts.'
Drew resisted the urge to capture her between his thighs and kiss her. It was what his body was screaming for him to do, but now wasn't the time, with someone out there, probably not too far away, who wanted him dead. Someone who might think Emma was expendable if she got in the way. So he turned and lay on his stomach and felt her gentle touch as she removed the dressings. Soon she was smoothing new ones in place.
'You'll probably have scars. They'll fade in time, but I'm afraid they'll always be noticeable.'
'Better a scarred back,' he said philosophically, 'than not be alive to work out who caused it.'
At the little choking sound she made, he realised how insensitive he must have sounded with her father buried only a few minutes ago. He pushed himself into a sitting position.
Tears glistened in Emma's eyes and Drew cursed his lack of tact. Hell, he might be wounded physically, but she'd been wounded emotionally. She'd looked after him, cared for him, while her father lay in the stables with only the dogs to stand guard over his body.
Drew felt something tight in his chest slowly dissolve. He reached out and drew her into his embrace, holding her body against his, pressing her cheek against the hard muscles of his shoulder. He muttered soothing, gentle words dragged from childhood memories, brushed silken strands of hair back from her face. Her body shook with sobs, made all the more heart-wrenching because no sound escaped her lips. It was as though she had long ago learned to cry so no-one could hear her.
Gradually her body stilled, but Drew continued to hold her, to whisper softly into her hair, to gently stroke her back, and breathe in the salt of tears and the woman scent that was uniquely Emma.
It was subtle at first, the change in the feel of their bodies, like the first warm days after a cold winter. Then it began to blaze as Drew became aware that Emma could feel the demanding bulk of his erection pressed against her jeans-clad stomach.
He eased her away a fraction, tilting her head so he could look at her face. Suddenly it didn't matter that someone could be lurking in the rain with intentions of killing him. Only this woman, with her beautiful eyes wide in her pale face, and her hands trembling as they pressed against his chest, mattered in any way.
He intended his kiss to be gentle, undemanding, but the moment his lips touched hers and he tasted the intoxicating flavour of her, he lost all restraint. He plundered her mouth, his tongue demanding entry, tasting sweetness. Tasting Emma.
It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. It flooded through him, wild and hot and strong yet incredibly sweet. Emma was a living flame in his arms, her tongue answering his thrusts, her hands roaming the wide planes of his chest.
He wanted to take her, there in the surgery, plunge into her, and feel her heat and moisture pull him in until he lost himself inside her. He needed to watch her cry in ecstasy as he took her to the height of pleasure.
There was a terrible sense of urgency in his need as though his body demanded to stamp its claim on this woman, to possess her in all ways, for all time.
And it was that very sense of urgency that had him draw his head back from hers. How could he lose control like this? He'd never been one to deny his normal male feelings of desire, but he'd always been able to stay in complete control before. But this…almost primeval…need was a shock. It was an urge to conquer, to possess, to brand Emma as his. But underlying the urgency was the astounding realisation that she would only need to express the slightest hesitation and he would die rather than force himself on her.
It was this depth of caring that shook him the most. For the first time in his life, Drew Jarrett, a man who lived by his wits and his words, was rendered speechless.
Emma felt as though her world had splintered. Her body trembled with passion. Her hands, where she touched Drew, burned with the need to touch more than just the smooth skin and dark curls covering the hard muscles of his chest. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasted the heat and the flavour of Drew, the graze from his stubbled whiskers.
She saw the blazing desire in his eyes and felt the constrained passion in the hands that held her.
'I barely know you…' The words in her mind flew from her mouth. She bit off the rest of the thought…but I want you more than any man I've ever known.
'I could say I'm sorry,' Drew's look denied the words, 'but I'd be lying. I don't know what it is between us, Emma, but I want you more than I've ever wanted another woman.'
Emma jerked back as he echoed her thoughts. She knew her eyes widened as his deep, resonant voice continued. 'You might not want to hear that, but you can't deny the chemistry between us.'
'I'm not some coy teenager, Drew,' she retaliated, stepping away from him. 'I won't deny I'm attracted to you. But I'm not looking for a relationship. I'll be going back to my work as soon as it's possible. Besides, I know nothing about you. For all I know, you could be as demented as whoever tried to kill you.'
To her surprise, he smiled. 'I've been called a lot of things, Emma, but "demented" is a new one.'
'Then why would someone do this to you? What sort of people do you mix with? Why would anyone want to kill you?'
She watched a frown chase the smile from his face. He opened his mouth to answer when the front door shook under a pounding fist. He grabbed her arms, and she was startled by the blaze of anger in his eyes as he growled, 'Do you have a gun?'
CHAPTER FOUR
'Answer me, Emma! If it's your demented killer out there we're both in trouble!'
Emma realised Drew was right. She'd thought he was safe here with her, cocooned by the torrential rain, but perhaps the killer had found out where Drew had been dumped and