Wild Heat Page 16


She was momentarily insulted. He didn't really think that lame information was going to be enough, did he?

“What else?”

“What makes you think there's more?”

“Your parents wouldn't have sent you away because you broke into their stash a couple of times.”

“Probably not,” he agreed, his voice far too easy, far too calm for her to believe he was confessing much of anything to her. “I liked drugs and guns too.”

She shifted in her seat, wanting to make sure he understood who he was dealing with. “If you'd lived in the city, I'd care. I might even think you'd been into gangs. But Boulder? Come on. You wore hemp and smoked pot and went hunting on the weekends.”

His lips curved up in that devastating smile again, but this time he spoke with an edge. “Okay, then, why don't you tell me the reason my mother sent me into what seemed like the middle of butt-fuck when I was seventeen and only wanted to get in trouble and get laid?” He caught her eyes before she could respond. “Fortunately, girls like a guy who knows his way around the woods.”

He allowed his eyes to move down her body and land on her br**sts. “And I definitely knew my way around in the dark, only using my hands to feel where I was going. Even when I was just a horny kid.” He turned back to the road. “But I don't need to tell you that, do I? It's the one thing about me that you already know for sure.”

Maya shifted in her seat to stare straight out the window. She hated that he knew her weaknesses, knew right where to jab for the greatest impact.

He came at her again. “Since you're all out of questions, how about I ask you a couple?”

His deep, rich voice grated on her nerves. She'd never wanted to punch and kiss someone at the same time.

“How about you don't?” She crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together. She was not going to let him get to her.

“What were you doing in that bar back in November?”

“I don't go to bars.” Which was entirely true, minus one stupid, grief-induced blip.

“Maybe you don't anymore, but you sure as hell did six months ago.”

“You're the one who's going to be spilling secrets right now, Mr. Cain. Not me.” She wanted to shoot herself the minute the words came out of her mouth.

“Any time you want to share your secrets with me, Maya, I'm more than willing to listen.”

She knew exactly how he'd “listen” to her, given the chance. But she had no intention of taking the bait. He'd never learn her secrets in a million years, never lull her into saying something stupid with his seductive kisses, his knowing hands.

Just then, Logan's radio crackled and he reached past her knee to turn up the volume. “Reporting a motel fire at 696 Lake Tahoe Boulevard, Highway 50. Station 3 and Station 4 have been dispatched to the scene.”

Maya stiffened. “That's my motel. The one that's on fire.”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “Who else have you pissed off today?”

Her heart pounded as the damning words left her mouth. “Only you.”

Logan flattened his foot on the gas pedal. She was pushing too hard. Getting too close. Joseph was right. She was smarter than any girlfriend he'd ever had, even though she definitely wasn't standard girlfriend material. No, she was the kind of woman a guy wanted to chain to his bed until he'd had his fill, all the while knowing that day would never come.

Sentence by sentence, question by question, she was pinning him up against a wall. It wasn't fair to use their attraction against her, but he couldn't resist watching her get flustered every time he so much as danced around the subject of sex.

Six months had passed since he'd tasted her. Touched her. But now that she was sitting so close that he could reach out and pull her onto his lap, he realized he hadn't forgotten one damn thing about her. The way her tongue had slid against his. The way she'd pressed her br**sts into his palms and rubbed into his calluses. The slick, wet heat between her legs.

Of all the ways he thought they'd meet again one day, he couldn't have imagined this. Anger rode him. But he couldn't let anger get the best of him, not if he wanted to see his way clear of the accusation. Which meant he needed to get a grip. Fast. Especially since they were several blocks away from her motel and he could already see flames and smell smoke through the truck's doors and windows.

Adrenaline shot through him and his thigh muscles clenched in an instinctual response to the fire. He wasn't an urban guy, this fire wasn't his domain, but he'd worked dozens of structural fires in the past whenever the stations were short-staffed due to illness or vacation or babies being born.

He looked over at Maya and saw that she'd pressed her body up against the passenger door, as far away from him as she could get. He didn't need her to tell him what she was thinking. He could read her mind. Fuck. She thought he'd lit this fire to scare her.

And if she found out the real reason he'd been shipped out to Tahoe as a kid, she'd think she was right.

CHAPTER SIX

MAYA'S EMOTIONS were all over the place. She'd gone from frustrated to aroused to sympathetic to angry in a matter of minutes. Right now, however, she was fighting back fear. Chances were that this fire at her motel was nothing more than a shitty coincidence. Probably just a random accident, some drunk boaters lighting up doobies and dropping them on the carpet when they passed out from too much sun and drink.

Still, she had to ask herself if Logan could be involved in some way. After all, she'd gotten a good ten minutes alone with Joseph after leaving the hotshot station, which would have been more than enough time for Logan to leave the station, set a fire in her motel, then head after her.

But no matter how she looked at it, she couldn't forget that Logan was a hotshot. One of the elite. She wanted desperately to believe he was innocent.

What if he wasn't?

“I'll get out here, thanks,” she said, pulling at the door handle to no avail, held captive by the automatic lock. Even though they were stuck at a red light a block from her motel, she wanted out of his car. Now. She had more than enough adrenaline to sprint the rest of the way.

“Hold on, we'll be there in thirty seconds” was his reply.

As they pulled into the lot she pressed every button on the door until the lock finally clicked open. Grabbing her bag and tools, she jumped out while the truck's tires were still spinning. Seconds later, Logan was out of his truck, following closely behind her.

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