“I was just…” For some crazy reason she couldn’t take her eyes off that gap in the towel.
“Yes, what are you doing?”
Her thinking became totally scrambled and she could have sworn she had a fever. “Hmm?”
“Tell me what you’re looking for and maybe I can help,” he said, his voice smooth and mellow. “You’re all flushed. Something I can do?” he asked, stepping so close she could smell the fresh scent of the soap on his skin.
Her mouth fell slightly open as the towel parted a few more inches.
“You look like a woman who’s ready to be kissed,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
Before she could recover, his mouth was on hers. She’d expected fire and urgency, but his lips were gentle and coaxing, not at all demanding or aggressive. His tenderness melted her resistance.
Trembling in his arms, Dana gave him as much as he wanted to take. No one ever made her feel so wonderfully feminine. She ran her hand over his bare chest, loving the feel of him.
He nibbled her lips, tasting her, prolonging their pleasure. When she sighed, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, then deepened the kiss.
Need pounded through him. She was ripe for the taking. But he wanted more from her than mindless surrender. He wanted her to know what was happening between them, and choose him freely. Then he’d drive her wild and take everything she offered him. She’d remember what they’d shared then-remember him-for the rest of her days.
That thought stopped him cold. He’d never felt that way in his life. He’d had many women, and he’d enjoyed giving them pleasure and taking it, too. But this…it wasn’t the same. His feelings for Dana…went deeper.
Ranger eased his hold and gazed down on her. “Woman, you’re too tempting for your own good.”
“So are you,” she answered, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace.
He took a step back as well, and turned on the overhead room light. “What were you looking for in here?”
“Oh…just…” She scrambled for an answer. “I was searching for…paper…to write with, you know?”
“I’m aware of what paper’s used for,” he answered.
She saw the dangerous flicker in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being lied to, and didn’t like it one bit. She couldn’t blame him. “A pad of paper, to be precise. I like to keep track of things.”
“Used up all the pages in the notebook you have in your purse, huh? I think I saw a notepad on the shelf beneath the phone in the kitchen. Will that do?”
She nodded. She’d seen it, too, and one look into his coal-black eyes told her he knew it. “But that’s there for a purpose. I didn’t want to take something they were currently using.”
“That’s not a problem,” he said with eyes that sliced through her.
As he walked out, she couldn’t help but take one last look at him. No matter what he was wearing-or almost wearing-he was the stuff dreams were made of.
“There are some clothes in the bedroom closet-for men and women. Whatever’s in there that fits you, you’re welcome to take,” he called out to her as he went back into the bedroom.
“Thanks, I’ll go look once you’re dressed,” she said, opting for caution.
Her reaction to him made no sense at all. She’d met a lot of handsome, intelligent, eligible men over the years, but she’d never felt like this. Whenever Ranger was close her insides would hum with tension and her brain turned to instant mush. This just wasn’t like her, and it had to stop.
Mentally using her best teacher’s voice on herself, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a cold drink. Dana walked back to the living room, forcing herself to relax, and her thoughts slowly cleared.
Just then he came out of the bedroom, shirtless. “I’m going to crash for a while. Make yourself at home, but stay away from the windows and don’t step outside. If you hear anything unusual, come get me, though I’ll probably hear it before you do. I’m a very light sleeper. And should the phone ring, let me get it. There’s an extension in the bedroom.”
“I’ll keep watch,” she said. “Rest easy.”
Ranger went back into the bedroom and left the door open. While he rested she decided to turn on the small TV set in the living room, sound low, and catch the local morning news. There was coverage on the kidnapping and murder, but nothing new on the investigation.
After twenty minutes she tiptoed down the hall and looked in on Ranger. He was lying on top of the covers, wearing jeans only, and his deep, slow breaths indicated he was asleep.
Returning to the living room, she turned off the TV set and glanced around the room. There was something odd about this house. Maybe it was a safe house police agencies used to keep protected witnesses. It was possible, maybe even likely, that Ranger worked freelance for the tribe whenever they had someone who needed protection. That could have explained the carving on the door frame.
On top of some books stacked horizontally at the end of the bookcase, Dana spotted a laptop computer. Taking it from the shelf, she moved to the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor before it. It had a wireless Internet connection, so that meant that the router was somewhere in the house, though she hadn’t seen one yet.
After turning off the speakers, Dana tried to get past the desktop display so she could access programs, but she kept getting a request for a password. She tried the obvious, starting with the word password, the name of the highway outside, the house number, Farmington and FPD, for Farmington Police Department. Nothing worked. The computer remained in the same opening screen. She continued, using terms such as protect and serve, witness, felony, police and police officer. Again nothing.
Dana sat back, rethinking her approach. She was missing something crucial. If this was intended for the use of whomever was scheduled to be at the house-in this case, Ranger Blueeyes-the password would be reset just for them. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in the name Blueeyes. After a short pause and a faint whirr from the hard drive, a new screen came up with the options to either log on to the Internet or search the files.
She decided to search the text and database files first. She soon discovered that the information seemed to focus on the Navajo tribe and was geared for use by a Navajo police officer.
Fortunately for her, she also wanted to know about Navajos-mostly one in particular, Hastiin Dííl. There were reports on various issues the tribe was facing, but nothing that concerned or pertained to a Hastiin Dííl, or anyone named Daniel Runningbear.
Without another option, she decided to go on the Internet next. She could access more phone book listings from there. Using the phone itself would be too risky now. She logged on and, fortunately for her, the passwords for access had been stored in memory, so she didn’t have to try to guess her way any further.
She started to type out Hastiin Dííl’s Anglo name, then stopped. This software usually stored a record of search words and sites visited, and she didn’t remember how to disable or erase that information. Not wanting to leave a trail, she decided an indirect search was best.
Dana typed out the words Navajo medicine men. Hastiin Sani had been a medicine man, and men in his profession were highly regarded. It stood to reason that his successor in the Brotherhood of Warriors might be a medicine man, too. For all she knew, being a medicine man was one of the requirements for leadership.
Her search was slow and time-consuming, but she kept at it, intent on finding something that would lead her to Hastiin Dííl. She found a wealth of information about medicine men in general, but nothing specific. If there was a listing for medicine men anywhere, like physicians in the phone book, she couldn’t find it.
Dana was about to give up when she found a link to an article about medicine hogans. She went to the site and read the piece, written by an anthropologist, who explained their different construction, like the fact that they were larger than other hogans and had no stovepipe in the center.