Pax braked in her driveway, and slammed the door as he leaped out of the Explorer. Hot sun beat down on his shoulders, healing, soothing sun. Hed been up since five. Spring was calving season. Hed showered before leaving the Hernandez ranchmost of the local ranchers offered him a meal and a place to clean up as an automatic courtesy. So he was clean, but his muscles still ached from the physical work and long, grueling hours. He wouldnt have minded ten minutes to put his feet up.
Hed have been even happier if the memory of Kansas coming apart in his arms would disappear, splat, from his mind. And yeah, he was guilty of initiating that kiss. But hed only intended a kiss, not a pass. Hed only intended to test her a little, see how she responded to a little surprise, a little stress. God knew how it had gotten out of hand so fast.
It was her fault. Completely. Only blaming her somehow didnt make him feel better. Pax did not open up to strangers. Ever. He positively did not come onto women like a rabid bull. Ever. He was a grown man, a hundred years too old to let hormones rule his life or his behavior, and he had never touched a woman where he wasnt in full control. It was unconscionable. It couldnt have happened.
The front door hurled open...and Pax mentally braced. Trouble bounced outside, in a flurry of ditsy chitchat and a wincing bright orange streak of color.
Hi there, Pax! Youre right on time. Wait, wait, waitI forgot my purse...and Id better lock the door. I just have to remember where I put the key to the house....
Pax wiped a hand over his face as he waited for her to shoot back inside and come up with the key and purse and heaven knew what else. Last night must have been some kind of surreal fantasy, something hed half imagined or blown out of proportion in his mind. This was the Kansas hed first met. One of those alien species known as a Pure Female. In her case, a pure ditsy female, a chatterer with just an eensy tendency to be an airhead.
She chased back outside with a grin bigger than the sky, a floppy crocheted bag dangling from her arm. Her fingers were coveredplasteredin rings; bracelets clattered around her wrists; and he hadnt a clue how to classify what she was wearing. Technically it seemed to be some kind of dress, but it buttoned from a loose neck and ended midthigh. A short midthigh. The fabric was a light cotton knit, and snuggled up to every skinny bone. Hell, a gusty sigh would probably knock her down.
Her fragility hit him every time he saw her. Never mind all the flash and sparklehed felt her body last night. She didnt own a sturdy bone and her skin was softer than a babys behind. He guessed shed bruise if a man even looked at her roughly, and that thought was disturbing. Pax couldnt imagine her surviving in any physically demanding situationpast five minutesand there was just no way this side of the moon that he could stop himself from feeling protective of her.
Ready, she announced, and gave him another winsome, wicked grin. At least I think Im ready. We didnt exactly pin down an agenda for the afternoon. Do we have a game plan on the table about where were going?
I have a place in mind, where your brother used to spend some time. But firstI should have asked you yesterday if youd talked to the sheriff.
Why, sure. When I couldnt get ahold of Case and started worrying he was missing, the first places I called were the hospitalsand then the law. Sheriff Simons and I are old phone pals. I called him at least a half dozen times from Minnesota.
And?
And...he was real sweet and real kind, but all those long-distance calls got me nowhere. Kansas climbed into the passenger side of the Explorer and strapped herself in.
His Explorer was used to smelling like hay and vet medicines and a whole host of other natural, earthy smells. But his truck, for sure, had never been exposed to a blast of exuberantly sexy French perfume. Something about that audacious scentor herwas developing a dangerous habit of arousing his hormones. But Pax consoled himself that at least shed made no reference to the kiss the night before. Apparently they were both going to play this nice and comfortable and pretend it never happenedwhich was totally okay by him.
The sheriff went so far as to drive out to Cases place, Kansas continued. But when he didnt find any sign of breaking in or a problem, he said that was the best he could do. There was no reason to think my brother was really missing. Case had a habit of taking off on any whim, and apparently everyone around here knew it. Unless I come up with some reason or proof that Case is in trouble, the sheriff just said he had no legal basis to do anything.
I told you the same thing yesterday, Pax reminded her.
Yeah, I know you did. Blue eyes skimmed his face, then zipped away. Thats exactly why Im grateful that you believed me.
I dont necessarily believe that your brother is in trouble, he said, correcting her.
He is. Her voice had turned quiet. And you must believe me to some extent, or you wouldnt be here.
That wasnt precisely true. Pax checked the rearview mirror and backed out of the driveway. Al loco y al aire, darles calle, he murmured under his breath.
Pardon?
Its a common Spanish saying around here. Clear the way for madmen and the wind. Pax didnt mention that men usually pounced on that Southwestern proverb in reference to the insanity of arguing with a stubborn woman. If he hadnt been afraid Kansas would take off on her ownand potentially risk running into troublehe wouldnt be here.
Madmen...? she repeated curiously.
Its nothing. Just a thought that crossed my mind. He switched subjects quickly. Theres a place at the far end of Sierra Vista. Just a bookstore, with a kind of deli and coffee shop attached. Doesnt sound like anything, but somehow the kids have made it into a hangout spot. I know Case used to spend a lot of time there.
Great.
Pax couldnt swear that it would be greator that Kansas would gain any helpful leads there about her brother. But it seemed a relatively safe place to start. His mind zipped back to the image of the datura plants at her place. It wasnt a good omen, those plants. Tell me about your brother, Pax suggested.
Tell you about Case? What do you want to know? Adobe buildings with red-tiled roofs flashed by. The landscape was dominated by signs in Spanish and native cactus lying dusty in the sun. She kept looking out the window as if the view were as alien as a visit to the moon.
Arizona Heat
Jennifer Greene
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
One
Lord, it was hot. Baking hot, choking hot, underwear-sticking hot. Kansas McClellan slapped at the insect buzzing around her neck with a scowl.
Shed been in southern Arizona all of twenty-four hours. Long enough to hate it. Sweat was drooling behind her knees; her calf muscles were screaming from the long hike; and redheads with delicate skin were simply not built to tolerate a climate with all this confounded, relentless sun.
Minnesota in May was a splendiferously superb place to live. Daffodils and lilacs in bloom. Lots of cool, clear lakes. Lots of dark, shady woods.
Kansas slapped another bug, musing that shed sell her soulwithout a qualmfor an ounce of shade right now. She was probably going to end up with heat stroke before this little adventure was over. For sure, she was going to end up with freckles. Naturally this impromptu trip had come up too fast for her to think about details like packing sunscreen. Her throat was parched. Her sandals hurt. Her daffodil yellow shorts and scoop-neck T-shirt were as close to naked as she could get without risking arrest. The outfit still felt hotter than a glued-on suit of armor. Briefly she indulged in a wanton, enticing fantasy about swimming stark naked in a cool mountain lake.
The fantasy was almost better than sex. Regretfully it didnt last any longer than most menbut ahead, as she turned a corner, she found something more exciting than either. Just ahead was shade, real shade, serious shade...and the glimpse of a low-roofed building.
When shed parked her rental car near the sign for the Mile Hi Ramsey Canyon Preserve, she had no idea it would be such a hike to the actual placeor that the landscape could conceivably change this fast. Suddenly there were trees instead of bleak, bald desert. Suddenly there was green. Suddenlyshe saw the closed door to the buildingthere was a prayer of civilized air-conditioning.
Ignoring the heat, she aimed for the door at a breakneck sprint. Seconds later, she was inside the preserve office and basking in the immediate cool.
With a single glance, she could see she fit in here as well as a stripper on Wall Street. The dozen people milling around were all appropriately decked out in L.L. Bean and Patagonia labels. Her overbright shorts outfit had come from Marianneson sale. Half the L-shaped room was an active bookstore, stocked with extensive references and tomes on the wildlife and geology of the area. Personally, Kansas favored romances.
Being a fish out of water rarely bothered her. At twenty-nine, shed been a misfit so long that the title fit as comfortably as a pair of well-worn jeans. There were just a few times when she wished she had the gift for fitting inlike now. If she were ever going to find her younger brother in this dadblasted desert country, Kansas needed help.
Years ago, shed have swallowed a bullet before admitting needing help for anything. As a kid, shed been tough. Shed been stubborn. Shed also been proud, to the point of stupiditya lesson shed learned the hard way and didnt intend to repeat.
Impatiently she waited her turn to speak with the woman behind the front desk. Apparently only small groups were allowed in the Preserve at a time, and a cluster of college-age kids stood ahead of her, pleading their case to the head honcho lady. From listening to their conversation, Kansas gathered that the canyon was the site of an annual hummingbird migration, that said-migration was spectacular, and that this spring was a one-of-a-kind viewing experience for hummingbird enthusiasts.
She blew a limp, carrot-top curl out of her eyes. She had no quarrel with the hummingbird lovers. She just had another agenda, and the day was wastingthe hour was already past three.
Finally the kids turned around and jostled past her. Kansas stepped up and cleared her throat, suddenly unsure how to phrase her question. The round-faced young woman took one glance at her looks and attire, and immediately assumed why she was here.
Youre lost, right? The ladys tone was amused, but not unkind.
No. At least, not exactly. I know this is going to sound a little strange, but Im looking for a man
Arent we all, the woman murmured.
Kansas chuckled, and relaxed. Actually, right now, Im trying to locate a specific mana vet. A Dr. Moore. Paxton Moore. I cant imagine that youd automatically know every single person who happens to be in the Preserve, but Ive been calling his office since early this morning, and all I keep getting is an answering machine message that hes here
The doc? Sure, hes here. No problem.
The way the womans face lit up, Kansas gathered that nothing about the doc was ever a potential problem. As quick as a blink, she was given directions and aimed back outside toward the main trail. Another hike. And uphill yet. Swell.
Another hundred and fifty miles later, she found the man. At least, he appeared to be her quarry, since he was hunched over an extremely fat raccoon with an injured paw. The raccoon was wide-awake. And noticeably not a happy camper. The critter wasnt winning the wrestling match, but it definitely expressed some violently negative opinions about the white bandage being wrapped around its right paw.
Kansas faked a delicate cough. Excuse me. Are you Dr. Moore?
No glance in her direction, no startled surprise at being interrupted. Just a Yup. Be with you in a second.
She was happy to wait, partly because it gave her a chance to catch her breath and quit huffing and puffing, and partly because she wantedneededa chance to study him.
Maybe he was a vet, but somehow she couldnt see Dr. Moore catering to the poodle trade.
She guessed his age in the early thirties, and there had to be some Native American genes in his bloodline somewhere. His hair was Apache black, worn thick and straight and long enough to rubber-band into a ponytail. His skin was bronzed darker than gold, with high cheekbones carved into a long, strong, angular face.
Given a little face paint and a pony, and she could easily picture him licking Custer a few years back. Maybe single-handed. He wasnt carrying an ounce of spare weight, but his shoulders and chest tested the seams of a worn navy T-shirt, and his old jeans explicitly defined long muscled thighs. Cords of veins flexed in his upper arms. There was no sweat on him, even though it was four hundred degrees, and the big hands working on the raccoon were competent and patient. It didnt seem to bother himif he noticed at allthat the critter was raising holy hell.