Mason reached for a muffin. «Don't worry yourself about it, peach. This could turn out just fine. Gifford is bound to get disheartened sooner or later. If he comes back and sees the kind of damage that fire did, realizes what he's going to have to go through to replace the equipment and so on on… he may just give up.»
«I certainly hope so, Mason. I certainly hope so.»
Serena let herself into her room, aching to fall across the bed and cry herself to sleep. Instead, she turned and nearly fell into Lucky. He grabbed her by the shoulders in a grip that could have bent iron and held her at aim s length, his gaze sweeping over her, wild and intense.
«Mon Dieu,» he muttered breathlessly. «Look at you. Are you all right?»
«Oh, I'm fine except for the heart attack,» she said sarcastically. «Is there something intrinsic in your makeup that compels you to frighten people? Did someone sneak up on you during your potty training or something?»
Lucky swore under his breath, letting go of her and turning to pace the bedroom floor. He ran a trembling hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as he struggled to school his breathing to normalcy. «I heard about the fire. Explosion. People being taken to the hospital.»
Serena bit back the flippant remark that sprang instantly to her tongue. She stood back and studied Lucky as he paced. He'd been afraid for her. It was clear in his eyes and the set of his mouth. It was clear in his struggle for control of his emotions. She made no comment but felt a flare of something like hope in her breast. The granite man who cared about no one had been frightened for her.
«I'm all right,» she said quietly. She let her knees give way and sank down on a little Victorian dressing stool, toeing off her ruined espadrilles and starting on the buttons of her blouse. She watched Lucky move back and forth along the bed, tension rolling off him like steam as he forcibly calmed himself. «Where were you?'
«I had business to take care of.»
«You certainly have strange working hours.»
«I have a strange life,» he admitted dryly. «You may have noticed.»
Serena arched a brow. «What? Everyone I know lives in a swamp and picks their teeth with a commando knife.»
She dismissed his dark look and started to shrug off her blouse, but stopped herself as she realized two things simultaneously-she wasn't wearing anything underneath it and Lucky's eyes had suddenly settled, hot and glowing, on her chest. It wasn't that she felt modest around him. But a wild sensation fluttered in her middle. A deep, primal fear combined with excitement that took no notice of her need for control. Nor did it seem to care that the path it wanted to drag her down led to heartache. She managed to head it off at the pass and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the protests of her aching legs.
«I have to take a shower,» she said, her fingers clutching her blouse together between her breasts.
Lucky stared at her. All the anxiety he had felt channeled itself into the one emotion he could understand and deal with-lust. When he'd heard about the explosion he'd nearly gone wild with thoughts of Serena lying burned and twisted among the rubble. Now she stood before him, looking bedraggled and a little bit afraid, but alive. Her dark eyes were wide and soft as she stared up at him.
He closed the distance between them with two long strides. His fingers pulled the blouse from her hand and peeled the two halves back as he pulled her gently into his embrace. With reverent care he bent and pressed his lips to each scratch that marred her face.
«I have to take a shower,» she mumbled again, her breath catching as Lucky's mouth settled on the pulse spot in her throat. «I have to go to Gifford's.» She gasped and arched her back as his hand carefully claimed her breast, but tried valiantly to hold on to her train of thought. «Will you take me?»
Lucky raised his head, his smoldering gaze capturing hers, an unconsciously tender smile turning one corner of his sensuous mouth. «Oh, yeah, chere. I'll take you. Absolutely.»
CHAPTER 14
«Arson!» gifford exploded, his weathered face turning an alarming shade of red. «By God, that tears it! That just tears it! I don't know what the hell this world is coming to. People got no respect for nothing anymore.»
He set aside the shotgun he'd been cleaning and rose from his lawn chair to pace in agitation. His hounds lay on the ground, one on either side of the chair, watching him move back and forth with their droopy eyes and somber expressions.
«That bastard Burke. I'll have his head on a pike before this is over. And that smarmy little Clifton York too,» he said, jabbing the air with a forefinger for emphasis. «The nerve of that little weasel, refusing to pay the claim.»
Serena thought of the apologetic insurance adjuster and felt a pang of sympathy. «Mr. York is only doing his job.»
«Practically accusing me of burning my own property,» Gifford ranted. «By God, I'd eat dirt before I'd stoop to something so low. No Sheridan ever behaved in such a reprehensible manner-not counting the ones that got kicked out of the family, of course.»
«Of course,» Serena confirmed dryly. She stood before him with her arms crossed over the front of her wilting pink cotton blouse and her knees locked to keep her legs from buckling beneath her. The early morning storm had turned the cabin's meager yard to a soft ooze that squished up around the sides of her calfskin loafers. This trip was taking a heavy toll on her footwear on top of everything else. If she stayed much longer, she was going to have to go around in bedroom slippers.
«There was a time in this country when a man's honor meant something,» Gifford announced, as upset with having his reputation impugned as he was with having someone burn his machine shed to the ground. He planted his feet, jammed his hands at the waist of his jeans, and glared down at Serena as if it were all her fault standards had fallen to such an appalling level.
«I'm sure it's nothing personal,» she said. «It's a clear-cut case of arson. Until they figure out who did it, the company can't pay.»
Gifford snorted. A shock of white hair tumbled across his forehead. His eyes were fierce. «Until they figure out who did it. A blind halfwit could figure out who did it. Burke is responsible. Goddamn Texan. This state ought to have border regulations.»
«Burke has an alibi,» Lucky said unexpectedly. «He was at Mouton's.»
Serena turned toward him, unable to hide her surprise. He was leaning indolently against the trunk of a big live oak, his eyes hooded and sleepy. He looked like a panther, all leashed strength and quiet intensity, waiting for some unsuspecting deer to wander past.
«How do you know that?»
He gave her a look that was flat and unreadable. His big shoulders rose and fell in a lazy shrug. «Because I was there too, sugar.»
He'd left her bed to go to Mosquito Moutons. Serena did her best to stem the rush of hurt. She had no hold on him, she reminded herself. Regardless of what her heart wanted, Lucky had clearly defined their relationship as just sex. Having agreed to those terms, she had no right to be angry with him or feel hurt that he hadn't chosen to hold her all night.
Business, he'd said. She wondered what kind of business one conducted at Moutons in the wee hours of the morning. She wondered if it was the same kind of business he had been conducting the last time he'd been there-starting brawls, threatening people with knives.
«Of course he has an alibi,» Gifford said with disgust. «A man like Burke does his own dirty work when he's coming up through the ranks, but he hires it out as soon as he can. It wouldn't be any mean feat to hire some local piece of trash to start a fire. People will do anything for a dollar these days.»
«Unfortunately, no one saw anything,» Serena said. «Whoever did it managed to get away either before the first explosion or during the confusion afterward. I know I never thought of looking for a car or for anyone running away from the scene.»