Risky Surrender Read online

  “Because, because…” His lips found that place on her neck that made her quiver with pleasure. “We’re up in a tree, remember? And you said yourself that’s a bad idea.” She couldn’t bring herself to say she wanted to be someplace they could do it over and over and over again. “Plus,” she continued, “I’m—”

  “Afraid you’ll wake the nightlife when I make you scream?” He lifted up and the corner of his mouth quirked into a devilish grin.

  “What? No! I don’t scream.” Her nipples tightened thinking about it.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Meaning he wasn’t through with her. Meaning this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. He wanted her when they were back on solid ground. She struggled to keep her delight guarded.

  Through a gap in the canopy, a piece of the moon drew her attention. When something scurried across a branch above McCall’s head, she buried her face in his shirt.

  He laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been in far more dangerous sleep spots than this. What gives?”

  “The height, you jerk.” She pushed him away. “On the ground I can run away. Up here, I can’t.”

  “Then think of me as your personal bodyguard.” He tucked her back against his side and reached over his head for the blanket.

  “Hang on.” Lucy sat up and pulled the backpack into her lap. She took out some tissue and tore it into strips.

  McCall watched her with interest, and a jolt of contentment she’d never felt before rushed through her. She rolled one strip of the tissue into a loose ball and placed it in McCall’s ear. She turned his chin and did the same with his other ear. Then she plugged her own.

  “To keep the bugs out,” she said in response to the confusion etched in lines across his forehead. “You don’t want anything taking up residence that doesn’t belong there.”

  “Thanks.” He poked at the tissue to make sure it stayed in place. “No one’s ever been worried about my ears before.”

  “You’re welcome.” It felt nice to take care of him, to look out for him. She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d best forget that if she planned to get her gold statue.

  Lucy fanned open the blanket, covered them, and lay down. The hoot of an owl sounded in the distance. The braches around her reached out with wrinkled arms twisted in uncomfortable poses. She bit back a chuckle. Even the trees McCall liked were ancient.

  She wasn’t too upset anymore that he’d planned this overnight trip. Adventure swept her away. And tonight, even though the dust around them was unsettled, McCall had felt the same way.

  Her thoughts reached back to days with Matt. She’d made a choice and then life took her somewhere she hadn’t wanted to go. Love and hope had muddled her judgment. Recovering the Tlaloc sculpture would be her goodbye gift. Once she did that, she’d be free.

  A tight, dull ache made a pilgrimage to the pit of her stomach. She hoped McCall would forgive her for that.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy wore the green sequined gown.

  McCall wore a hard-on that made his tuxedo pants damn uncomfortable.

  The dress hugged every curve of her lean body. The plunging backside undid him—her smooth, bronze skin beckoning him to touch. The front molded to her breasts with perfection, the V-neck straps left her toned arms bare.

  Her reddish brown hair fell in soft, loose waves just past her shoulders. An opal necklace adorned her neck. The seashell bracelet they’d found geocaching hung on her wrist, testament that she’d meant what she said about being out of her element.

  Still, one word best described her—breathtaking.

  McCall stopped outside the entrance to the El Tovar Lodge and took her hands. “You don’t need to be nervous. You will by far be the most gorgeous woman in the room tonight.”

  “Not true,” she said, her gaze darting to the ground. “We both know you will be garnishing the most attention tonight.”

  “The most envy.” The beauty and expanse of the Grand Canyon over Lucy’s shoulder caught his attention for a moment. He stared in wonder as twilight cast an otherworldly glow over the burnished amber rock.

  “Stop that.”

  “What?” He traced a finger down her arm. She shivered. They’d been tap dancing around each other all day, and McCall didn’t know how much more he could take. After their mind blowing kisses last night, Lucy had run hot and cold and he figured she needed some space. But distance made him crave her more.

  “Being charming.” She leaned closer, honest words out of his mouth a seemingly magnetic pull he was grateful for.

  “Can’t help it.” His mouth hovered at her temple. If he hadn’t promised Dean and Sam he’d show up tonight, he would have dragged her away to an intimate dinner for two.

  They hadn’t talked about the sculpture again, but last night had changed things, hadn’t it? He wanted to believe she’d let her quest go and instead decided to explore the undeniable chemistry between them.

  “I’m not used to any of this. Please don’t make it worse.”

  He framed her face with his hands. Her eyes sparkled with warning. “I’ll try. But I’m not making any promises. You’re mine and if anyone even looks at you the wrong way, I might burst a blood vessel.”

  She grabbed his wrists and brought his hands around to her backside. “I thought I was only a date. Not your date.” She shimmied against his lower region, causing more goddamn discomfort.

  Before the night was over, he was going to have her.

  “Changed my mind.” His stomach knotted. He meant it. This thing with Lucy was more than he anticipated. It wasn’t an attempt to divert her anymore.

  “But you haven’t changed mine,” she teased and moved around him. “Let’s go, preservation boy.”

  McCall breathed in the crisp, invigorating air and marched up the steps of the hotel beside her. In his mind, her easy dismissal meant one thing—he was under her skin as much as she was under his.

  Inside the landmark establishment, the dark brown log posts and patterned carpets gave the lobby rotunda a cozy Southwestern feel. They took a moment to look around and then McCall put his hand on Lucy’s back to guide her toward the dining room for the annual gala for the National Register of Historic Places.

  Lucy trembled under McCall’s touch as they checked in at the entrance. “How about we make a beeline for the bar?” he whispered, guiding her inside.

  “You read my mind.”

  They wove through the crowd, McCall nodding and smiling at friends and business associates. “I’m not the most comfortable at these events either, you know.”

  “Really? All the women staring at you is bothersome?”

  He turned her chin. “The only woman I see is you.”

  She pfft and put her elbows on the bar. “I’ll have a Malibu and pineapple please.”

  “Coming right up,” the bartender said, his eyes zeroing in on Lucy like he wanted to undress her.

  McCall bristled. He caged Lucy from behind, his hands spread on the bar, his chin in the crook of her neck. With her ass nestled against him, he was painfully reminded of his aroused state. “You are the sexiest thing I have ever laid eyes on,” he whispered, just before a large hand landed on his shoulder and yanked him around.

  “You having a drink without me?” Dean Malloy said, giving McCall one of his cocky smiles.

  McCall shook Dean’s hand. “Absolutely.”

  “It’s good to see you.” Dean added a pat to McCall’s upper arm. Despite working on the Route 66 project together, they concentrated their efforts in different regions. Tonight’s meeting resulted from a rare close proximity.

  “You, too. Even better to see you, Sam.” McCall grinned at the woman to Dean’s left before kissing her cheek. “Lucy Davenport, this is Dean Malloy and Sam Bennett. They work in heritage protection.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Lucy said. “Your dress is beautiful, Sam.”

  “I tried to take it off her on the way—”

  Sam elbowed Dean in the side. “Please ig
nore my fiancé. He thinks he’s being cute.”

  “Fiancé?” McCall darted a glance between them.

  “As of two days ago.” Sam’s entire face lit up as she waggled her fingers and flashed a diamond ring large enough to blind him.

  “Congratulations,” he and Lucy said at the same time.

  Dean slung an arm around Sam and the two exchanged a look that left no doubt to how much they loved each other. McCall couldn’t help but peek at Lucy. She definitely drugged him with her looks, intelligence, and passion. Could there be more to it than that?

  “We’re thinking about saying ‘I do’ from the top of the Golden Gate Bridge,” Dean said.

  “You’re thinking that. My vote is for Vernal Falls in Yosemite.” Sam tore her gaze from Dean and looked at Lucy. “It’s where we first kissed.”

  At mention of the word kiss, McCall thought back to last night with Lucy. He’d never imagined a kiss could be so hot. So damn good that he ran his tongue over his bottom lip and still tasted her.

  He slyly took Lucy’s hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing them next to his thigh.

  She darted a glance down before composing herself and saying, “Either one sounds romantic and adventurous. I’m guessing you’d have more guests in Yosemite, though.”

  They laughed. “We’ve been debating the big wedding, small wedding thing all weekend. I offered up a nude beach idea thinking that would eliminate most everyone, but Sam won’t go for it.” Dean winked at his bride-to-be.

  “Enough wedding talk,” Sam said. “McCall and Lucy don’t need to hear about our conversations. So, Lucy, what do you do?”

  “I’m an archeologist.”

  A line started to form for the bar so McCall edged them away. The restaurant hummed with quiet conversations, the native stone and pine décor bouncing sound waves with a feather-light touch. A waiter stopped and offered them an appetizer.

  “Are you in the field?” Sam asked.

  “Mostly. Yes.” Lucy let go of McCall’s hand and took a beef skewer. She angled herself slightly behind him, as if she wanted to slink away from any more attention to herself.

  “Have you started on the Aztec village yet, McCall? Is that what brought you two together?” Sam asked.

  “We begin tomorrow,” he said.

  Lucy took a small step away from his side. Her stance reminded him that even though they stood only inches from each other, there was an iconic village between them.

  That notion tangled the thoughts in his head for a minute. He needed to talk to her. Because if she tried to get the Tlaloc sculpture, he would stop her.

  “No. I’m not working with McCall at the village.” Lucy’s voice, but more importantly her words, flung McCall back into the conversation.

  “Actually she is,” he said with conviction.

  “What?” Her empty cocktail glass shook in her hand.

  He took the glass and put it on the passing waiter’s tray. “Lucy is incredibly knowledgeable about historic sites. She’s got an amazing eye for architecture and no one can match her skill at sizing up infrastructures and giving damage assessment.”

  “McCall.” There was alarm in her voice, but she didn’t need to worry. The Tlaloc sculpture wasn’t his secret to tell.

  He gazed into her surprised and suspicious eyes. “I’ve never known anyone with more guts and dedication to her philosophy on significant cultural landscapes and buildings than Lucy. She’s traveled the world and knows how to work endangered sites, take what she wants, and stem the loss of integrity.”

  Her eyes softened, her full lips parted slightly. McCall wanted to stop talking and possess her mouth—and every other inch of her.

  “I’m planning on her teaching me a thing or two over the next few days.” He meant every word he said. He wished he’d thought of inviting her to work with him sooner. Once he introduced her to his plight, she’d forget about gold sculptures.

  “Take what she wants?” Dean asked.

  McCall watched Lucy gulp. “She is an archeologist. They do find things.”

  Lucy smiled. “No one’s better.”

  McCall couldn’t keep his eyes off Lucy. “I agree.”

  “You two want to get a room?” Dean asked.

  “We already have one,” Lucy answered. “I mean, McCall does and he’s been gracious enough to let me stay with him.”

  A two-legged desert bighorn sheep could have walked by him and he wouldn’t notice. He was transfixed on Lucy.

  Sam cleared her throat. “How did you say you two know each other?”

  “We didn’t.” McCall wrenched his gaze away. Women looked at him all the time with dollar signs and penthouse dreams and he blinked away their superficiality with ease.

  Lucy didn’t give a shit about what he had in his bank account or who his family was. She looked at him like the only thing that mattered was him. He wanted to wake up every morning to that look.

  Before falling asleep last night, he’d shared more of himself than he’d shared with anyone else. No one knew how deeply the avalanche had affected him. How he’d doubted himself for months after. Lucy had let her guard down, too, and the goodness and down to earth passion that lay behind it pulled him in deep.

  “But it’s a funny story,” McCall said with no intention of sharing the total truth. He just needed to get his mind off how much Lucy affected him.

  Something drew Lucy’s attention and she looked across the room. He tried to follow her line of sight, but then she angled her chin up and seemed to take in the view of the canyon out the restaurant’s window.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the ladies room.” Lucy moved around him without waiting for a reply.

  Naturally, his gaze followed her until she vanished around a corner.

  “You are in deep, man” Dean said, “and I’m glad I was here to see it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” McCall lifted a pork chop from a passing tray. It pissed him off that his wayward thoughts showed on his face.

  “Someone has finally cracked that control-freak, fling-only mentality of yours. And I’m glad it’s not your usual upper cruster.”

  “She seems really great,” Sam piped in.

  McCall was saved from further discussion about his personal life when Connor made his way over with the president of the NRHP and talk turned to business. Others joined them, including a few wealthy single women, intent on charity and him. He cringed every time one lightly touched his arm.

  Several minutes later, Lucy’s vibrant green gown caught his attention. Among the flower arrangements of orange roses, violet hydrangeas and red orchids, she stood out like the most beautiful feature of a Matisse painting. She stood in conversation with a man who had his back to McCall.

  Her eyes met McCall’s across the crowded room and his knees weakened. Christ, he hated being this far away from her. He was about to excuse himself when the Director of the National Park Service joined them.

  Finally, when it was just him with Sam and Dean, Sam said, “So who do you think is going to win The Amazing Race this season?”

  McCall appreciated that she lightened the conversation and brought up their favorite TV show.

  “Hey,” Lucy said, snaking her arm around his and leaning against his side. “Sorry I was gone so long. I got cornered by a gentleman whose son is thinking about being an archeologist.”

  “My vote is for Jared and Raquel,” McCall said, his body relaxing now that Lucy had returned.

  “I have to agree,” Dean said. “If Sam and I were contestants, we’d wipe the pavement with everyone. Nothing scares my fiancé.”

  Sam pressed into Dean’s side and looked at him like she’d go to the ends of the earth and back if he wanted. “As long as there isn’t a river infested with spiders that I have to swim through like they had in season nine, I’m good.”

  “No way would you beat us,” Lucy said, surprising the hell out of him. “Put McCall and I together and nothing can
stop us.” She paused for a moment, a moment that took his feelings for her and magnified them times a thousand. Put McCall and I together and nothing can stop us. That’s what he wanted. A woman to stand by him and conquer whatever they set their mind to.

  “Fear has nothing to do with it,” she continued. “There’s a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, ‘you gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.’”

  “You are seriously sexy when you quote,” McCall whispered in her ear. Her soft hair tickled the corner of his mouth. Her soapy fresh scent stimulated other parts of his anatomy.

  Dean shook his head. “‘Do the thing we fear, and the death of fear is certain.’ Ralph Waldo Emerson.” He flashed that cocksure smirk of his. “Sam’s great, great, great uncle.”

  “Once removed,” Sam said.

  “Suffice it to say, we’d both make it to the finals.” McCall nodded toward the dining tables. “Looks like they want us to sit. How about I buy a bottle of champagne so we can toast your engagement while we eat?”

  “Sounds perfect. Thank you,” Sam said.

  Lucy brushed her mouth along his jaw line until it was angled away from their companions and whispered, “You are seriously sexy when you’re considerate.”

  Yeah, he was also seriously horny.

  The second after they finished their dessert, McCall said goodnight to their table and helped Lucy up with a hand on the small of her back. Touching her made his pulse quicken, but not touching her was impossible. “It was great meeting you all,” Lucy added, then shook hands with Dean and Sam. “Best of luck with your wedding plans.”

  Goodbyes on the way out with several other work associates followed, then McCall rushed Lucy to the car. The night air carried the last remains of winter’s bite and he didn’t want her getting too cold. He opened the passenger door for her and then nearly leaped across the hood to get to his side. Not because he was cold. Because he was hot.

  Safely tucked away in the confines of his truck, he wanted to take Lucy right there. Touch her. Learn every pleasure point on her body. His choppy breathing must have given him away because she said, “We are not doing it in a car. At least not the first time.”