“Marching orders?”
“You think I should sell the shares back to the Colfax family and stop trying to find out if the car accident that killed Sara and Mary really was an accident, don’t you?”
He took so long responding that she finally turned her head to look at him. In the darkness she could not read his expression, but she sensed that he was coming to a decision.
“Logic and common sense tell me that dumping those shares and leaving town would be the smartest thing you could do,” he said eventually. “If you keep going along the path you’re on now, you’re going to make some enemies in the Colfax clan.”
“I think I’ve already got a few. What can they do to me?”
“I don’t know. That’s what has me worried. If you’re right about Sara’s and Mary’s death, you could be in danger.”
“Do you really think that whoever killed them will come after me now? But that wouldn’t do him or her any good. I’ve got a trust, and believe me, it’s tight. In my profession, you find out real fast that a badly drawn-up will or trust can be a disaster for the heirs. I’ve left everything to my parents. The murderer can’t just go on getting rid of everyone in my family one by one in hopes of eventually getting hold of the shares. Someone—you, probably—would be bound to notice.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mason said, his voice lethally soft. “I’d notice if anything happened to you.”
She shivered again, but not from the chill in the night air. Mason’s vow scared her, but it also gave her a strange confidence. If anything happened to her, he would tear the Colfax family apart.
“So I think I’m relatively safe, at least for now,” she said.
“Maybe,” Mason agreed. He sounded reluctant. “If someone did murder Mary and Sara, he or she miscalculated. But that doesn’t mean the killer won’t try other tactics.”
“Such as?”
“Intimidation? An offer you can’t refuse? Hell, I don’t know. But if you sold the shares back to the family, you would take that issue off the front burner.”
“The shares are the only cards I have to play.”
He watched the moonlit surface of the water, not speaking. The leaves overhead rustled.
“I have to do this,” Lucy said finally.
“I know.” This time he sounded resigned to the inevitable. “In your shoes, I’d be doing the same thing.”
“Well, actually, you are doing the same thing,” she pointed out. “In a way.”
“Guess it’s just who we are.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I’m sorry for dragging you into the situation.”
He moved then, one hand closing around her shoulder. Deliberately, he turned her to face him. He gripped her other shoulder and tugged her closer.
“Whatever you do, do not say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m doing this for my own reasons.”
She managed a misty smile. “I know. You’re doing it because you can’t help yourself. You’re a guardian angel by nature.”
“No, I’m doing it at least in part because I’ve got a few questions about what really happened to Sara and Mary, too. But I think I should make something very clear.”
“What’s that?”
“Mostly I’m doing this because of you.”
She was not sure how to respond to that, but it didn’t matter, because he kissed her then, and she was stunned into speechlessness.
The kiss was not a teenage girl’s fantasy come true. It was so much more, because she was a woman now and she knew something about kissing—enough to judge Mason’s kiss. It was not the kiss of her girlish dreams. There was nothing sweet or romantic or gently seductive about it. This kiss was all about primal masculine desire and fiercely controlled passion. This was the kind of kiss a man gave a woman when he set out to make it clear that he wanted her.
She knew intuitively that there were only two possible responses to such a kiss: she could return it with interest or she could break free and walk back to the car. There was no middle ground. There never would be, not with Mason Fletcher.
For the first time in her life she realized that there was no middle ground for her, either. She went all in, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back with a sensual hunger she had never before experienced. Excitement sent adrenaline sparking through her.
By the time he freed her lips and moved his mouth to her ear, she was hot and cold, breathless and a little shaky. She clutched him, savoring his scent and the hard feel of his unyielding body. When she kissed the warm skin of his throat, he exhaled deeply. It could have been a sigh of pleasure or surrender or exultation. She could not be sure. But his breathing was harsher now.
He used one finger to raise her chin. His mouth came back down on hers in another intense kiss. She could feel the heat of the fire that smoldered just beneath the surface.
He shuddered, took a deep breath and held her slightly away from him. In the moonlight his eyes were darkly brilliant. Fascinated, she touched the side of his jaw. He turned his mouth into her hand and kissed her palm.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming,” he said, his voice rough and edgy. “Because I sure did.”
“I saw it coming,” she admitted. “But it still caught me by surprise.”
“Same with me,” he said. “I didn’t think I could still get surprised like that.”
She smiled. “Thirteen years ago, I had a terrible crush on you. But you were barely aware of my existence.”
He speared his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “You were just a kid.”
“Who needed rescuing. Yes, I know. But I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I noticed.” He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. “Definitely not a kid. I’d give a hell of a lot to take you to bed tonight, but it’s probably too soon and there’s no bed.”
It wasn’t a statement, she realized. It was a question.
“I’m sure the problem of a bed could be handled,” she said. “But you’re right, it’s too soon.” She slipped lightly out of his embrace and started back toward the car. “Which makes it time to leave.”
“Hey, you could have at least argued with me about the timing thing,” he said behind her.
She laughed, suddenly feeling more lighthearted than she had in a long while. She was awash in a delicious sense of anticipation. Mason laughed, too. He caught up with her, kissed the tip of her nose and opened the car door.