Rogue Rider

He leaped to his feet, and lightning quick, he tugged her against him. How did he move like that?

“Thank you.” She didn’t even have a chance to respond, because he planted a hot kiss, so full of promise, on her lips. And then, as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he released her and sat down with the food.

Slightly dazed, she showered and changed into her favorite pajamas and robe, the ones Stacey had told her to never wear in front of a guy if she wanted to get laid. Somehow, Jillian didn’t think the oversized olive-and-brown plaid pjs would deter Reseph, though. Then again, when she stepped out of the bedroom, he turned from where he was looking out the window and winced.

“Those are hideous.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a naughty smile. “You should take them off.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I prefer… persistent.” He gestured to his empty plate. “Thank you. It was the best sandwich ever.”

“You certainly know how to make a woman feel good.” Too late, she realized what she’d said, and the spark in his eyes said he knew it, too. “Don’t say it. And don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Like you’re still hungry. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I wonder,” she said, “if you were this arrogant before you lost your memory.”

Hurt flared in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, his expression shifting into a light mask of indifference. “Probably.”

God, she felt like a heel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in—”

“It’s okay.”

Tentatively, she put her palm on his biceps. “No, it’s not. That was insensitive.”

He turned into her, filling her vision with his powerful shoulders. “One thing I know about myself is that I’m not easily offended or hurt.”

She might buy the not easily offended part, but she’d seen how bothered he’d been when she’d left him at the sheriff’s station and now, when she’d brought up his lost memory. She wasn’t going to call him on it, though. She knew firsthand how survival could depend on believing the things you told yourself.

“You definitely aren’t easily hurt,” she said lightly. “Your recovery from nearly freezing to death has been amazing.”

“Clearly, I have incredible stamina.” His voice had gone low and seductive, and she’d just bet he had stamina worth bragging about. “Outside you said it’s been a long time since you had sex.”

And there went that lack of a filter thing again. “More than a year.”

“Why?”

She hesitated, unsure how ready she was for too much detail. “Because I moved here and haven’t wanted to throw myself into the dating pool.” She doubted she’d ever dip a toe in that murky water again.

“You don’t have to date,” he said, as if she was a moron for mentioning it. “Who wants to waste all that time and energy? Just jump straight to the commitment-free sex.”

Although she had absolutely no right to be angry with him, his answer, combined with how easily he’d charmed Tanya, irked her. “Is sex really so casual for you?”

He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t it be? Humans are so uptight about it. It’s just pleasure. It’s what our bodies are made for.”

Humans? As if he wasn’t one of them? “We’re also made for relationships. Emotional connections.” She couldn’t believe she was arguing for something she’d sworn off.

“Mating for life?” He looked like he’d bitten into something bitter and foul. “That might have been ideal when humans had short life spans, but who wants to be tied down to one person until the end of time?”

Tied down. He’d said that before about her house and farm. “So you’re saying you never want to get married? Have kids? Live happily ever after?”

“Jillian,” he murmured. “I don’t even know my last name. How can I say what I want in the future?”

“Shit.” She blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what I was getting worked up about.”

He’d touched a raw nerve she hadn’t even known was exposed. She certainly had no right to judge his casual outlook on emotional attachments. She hadn’t let anyone in since the day she found out her fiance was married to someone else. Only Stacey had a place in Jillian’s inner circle, and that was because she’d been there for twenty years.

Shit. She gave herself a slap on the forehead. “I need to call Stacey. She’s out looking for you.”

“I’ll shower while you do that.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

He strode into the bedroom, leaving her flustered. She had owed him the apology, not the other way around. Damn, but he had a way of keeping her off balance. As an air traffic controller, she’d prided herself on being calm, cool, collected, even during high-stress periods and hair-raising emergencies. Yet Reseph, with nothing more than a feather-light touch or a few softly spoken words, could throw turbulence right into what was expected to be an uneventful, smooth flight plan.

Get back on course, idiot.

She grabbed the phone and dialed, not giving her friend a chance to even say hello. “Stace. Hey, sorry I didn’t call sooner, but Reseph is here. He’s fine and I’ll call you later—”

“Wait!” Stacey’s voice cracked over the airwaves. “You said you’re with Reseph? When did he get there?”

Jillian glanced at her watch. “An hour and a half ago, maybe.”

“How did he get there?”

“He hitched a ride part of the way and walked the rest. Why? What’s this about?”

Stacey’s pause made Jillian’s stomach knot with dread.

“I’m not supposed to talk about this, but a couple of days ago, the Bjornsens up the road from you were killed—”

“Jesus. How?”

“I’ll give you the details later. But… damn it, there’s no easy way to say this. The Bjornsens weren’t the only ones. I’m sorry, Jillian. It’s the Wilsons,” Stacey said. “They’re dead.”

A crushing press of denial looped around Jillian’s chest and squeezed hard. “That’s not possible. I saw them this morning. I dropped off eggs on my way home from town.”

“What time was that?”

“Around eleven,” Jillian whispered.

Oh, God, this could not be happening. She’d known the Wilsons almost all her life. Maggie Wilson had made her Halloween costumes and had bought tons of Girl Scout cookies. And when Jillian’s father had suffered his first heart attack, Joseph Wilson had helped out with the farm for months while her father recovered.

“Jillian?” Stacey’s voice pierced the buzz of memories in her head. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she rasped. “But why would you ask about Reseph? You can’t think he had something to do with it.”

As if summoned, Reseph came out of the bedroom, hair wet, body glistening. He was wearing only a pair of unbuttoned jeans.

“We think it was an animal, a cougar or bear, but it happened three to five hours ago. If Reseph walked, he’d have gone right by their house. He might have seen something. I need to talk to him. Can I come by?”

Numbly, Jillian nodded, then realized that duh, Stacey couldn’t see her. “Yeah,” she croaked.

“I’ll be there in a little while.”

Reseph’s arms came around her, and she went willingly into his embrace. “What’s wrong?”

“The Wilsons… they were my parents’ best friends. I grew up with their daughter. They’re dead.”

He hugged her tight. “I’m sorry.”

“Reseph… you walked by their place. It’s the house five miles down the hill, with the wagon wheel at the entrance to the driveway. Did you see anything?”

“Like what?”

“A cougar, maybe? Or a bear? Even tracks in the snow?”

For some reason, he went taut, just a subtle stiffening before he relaxed. “Do the police think that’s what killed them?” When she nodded, he ran his hand up and down her spine in a soothing gesture. “I didn’t see any