Dream Shadow Read online

  “Reality is gray.”

  “The inside of a body bag is pitch black,” he countered.

  “I’m still here.” And she was tired of talking. “So discharge me if you don’t like my actions.”

  Jacobs sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you don’t have a career, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t put a black mark on mine by getting yourself shot.”

  “I didn’t get shot. The target was retrieved. On paper it will look great.”

  She snapped her head around and looked back at the forest. Conversations were needlessly complicated. Life was better when she avoided them.

  “We’re having dinner with Brice tonight out at his place.”

  Grace hissed in response. The sound was past her lips before she realized she was reacting. Jacobs raised an eyebrow, a tiny hint of victory in his eyes.

  “That’s a waste of resources.”

  The light of victory died and left behind something that looked too much like pity.

  “Time. You’re not a resource.”

  “That’s your personal opinion, Jacobs.”

  And his C.O. would never let it interfere with a mission. Somewhere there was a file with a neat list of missions she’d accomplished. There would be performance comments, observations and details but there would be no personal information.

  She didn’t exist.

  Officially.

  “Fine. Dinner. Mess or someone’s kitchen. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  Let Jacobs haul her off to some dinner. Brice Campbell wasn’t going to make her run. Grace turned around and headed into the room for a shower.

  She didn’t care. She wouldn’t care. She refused to care.

  But she froze in front of the mirror. Her cheeks were pink. She stroked one, stunned to find it warm. Looking lower, she found her nipples beaded beneath her tee-shirt. She shook her head, wanting to deny any sort of reaction to the coming evening, but the physical evidence remained.

  It defied logic. Practically every new man the unit got tried his hand at getting into her pants. The more veteran members of the team would take bets on just how fast she’d freeze him off.

  But Brice Campbell could make her blush.

  “Time to move, Grace.”

  She tugged her jacket on and reached for the gloves that rested on the tile counter of the bathroom. Grace smiled as the black knit fabric clung to her fingers. Distractions from her flesh were annoying. Preventing her nerve endings from intruding with their limited perceptions was…comforting. Very controlled. There was a stability to be found in maintaining focus.

  She never blushed when she was focused.

  Grace climbed into the helicopter in relief. This dinner certainly wouldn’t last very long. In fact, she had half a mind to remain inside the black machine and refuse to see Brice Campbell again.

  But it would be hiding.

  That irritated her. It set flame to something that had been needling her since she’d faced off with the man in the hospital parking lot. Her hands began to sweat inside the gloves, proving her efforts to dismiss the coming evening as insignificant were a failure.

  Grace dug her feet into the floor of the helicopter to keep her body secured in her seat as Jacobs lifted the bird off the ground. He took to the controls with the enthusiasm that two days of down time had left in his system. The craft banked at a steep angle while speeding along the rise of the forest. Grace let the exhilaration of the flight fill her.

  The aircraft surged forward, propelling itself faster at its master’s urging. Grace enjoyed the freedom of the ride. It was a primal thing. The speed. The self-controlling need to not flinch as they sailed over a rise of land, pulling away from the ground. A lake lay before them and the craft hovered exactly one foot above the glassy surface of the water. The motion of the blades caused the water to run in waves out and away from the helicopter.

  Grace loved the way Jacobs handled the aircraft. Air support was vital to the safety of his unit. Jacobs wouldn’t travel very far from his bird for any reason.

  The clearing Jacobs aimed for was little more than an old logging road. Grace watched his face tighten as he considered the angle at which to bring his aircraft down. He touched the bird down and she pulled her helmet off.

  Refusing to go would be admitting she cared. So she opened the door and ducked her head down as she made her way beyond the reach of the rotors. Jacobs was slower to leave the controls because he had to shut the machine down. Clark and another man who had drawn the short straws tonight made their way into the forest to dig in for perimeter duty. Neither man was happy about their duty.

  She would have gladly traded places with them.

  It was just another blunt reminder of how little she had in common with the world around her. She was different, always had been.

  Tonight the air moved in lazy gusts among the trees. The redwoods swayed in slow rhythm as they waited for the moon to cast light over them. Despite the pleasure she found in the night, Grace was preoccupied with the exact reason for their visit. Lots of civilians had questions for her. Jacobs rarely allowed them close enough to voice them.

  That suited her fine. There had been too many years where she was forced to endure the prodding of the curious. Now that the powers that be had their file on her, she rarely needed to endure interrogations from anyone other than her immediate commanding officer. A few of her previous C.O.s went out of their way to ensure they didn’t need to do it very often.

  Artificial light announced their destination. Grace surveyed the log structure that Brice Campbell called home. The outer walls were in fact large logs. The bark had been stripped from the wood and it was sealed to keep out the weather but no paint had been applied. It wasn’t small. Large multi-paned glass windows were set every eight feet along the front of the house. There was a porch that ran the entire length of the house. The roof extended to cover it, and support beams were spaced between the windows.

  The trees grew right up to the porch line. The only part of the forest that had been cleared, besides the logging road, was the small gravel road that gave access to the garage sitting twenty feet behind the house. Grace stopped before stepping onto the porch.

  Sheriff Brice Campbell was waiting for them on a porch swing. He shook out his frame and straightened up as his eyes caught them approaching his house. One hand reached for the brim of his hat and tugged it gently while his eyes held hers.

  “Good evening.”

  This was his territory and pure confidence was carried in his voice. The challenge was clearly written in his eyes. Grace stiffened her spine and stepped up onto the porch. She was not afraid of the man, but the urge to hesitate was strong. Grace made it five steps into the large family room before she went rigid. Her senses rioted. Every corner of this house was his. His scent was drifting in the air. She lifted her head and tried to identify it, but it was too elusive. Turning on her heel, Grace eyed the door.

  “Leaving before dinner is rather rude, sweetheart.” Brice folded his arms across his chest, making him appear more overwhelming than he already was.

  “Social customs are time consuming as well as distracting.”

  “Someone really should teach you what the phrase off duty means.”

  Grace simply raised her eyebrow. If she didn’t respond, he couldn’t have a conversation with her. The thought didn’t give her much satisfaction and it was childish. Grace considered both men before shaking off that small bit of guilt. There was nothing immature about being tired of interrogation.

  But Brice Campbell made her…sensitive. Pressing her lips into a firm line, she moved to one of the windows to consider the view. Fine. She was in the house. Both men moved off in the face of her dismissal, making her smile. Grace took a slow breath into her lungs and tried to calm her surging emotions.

  Now that she was farther into the house, Grace caught the scent of dinner in the air. Whatever it was, it did smell good. The rattling of dishes reached her ears as well as bi
ts of the men’s conversation.

  Left to herself, she wandered about the house. It was dark, but she preferred it that way. Next to the living room there was a dining room. It had a beautiful wood floor. The room was bare except for a large oil painting. It depicted a scene of a huge black stallion rearing up on its hind legs. Strength radiated from the creature, despite the fact that it was only a creation of paint and canvas.

  A hallway was next to the dining room. The first door led to a bedroom. It was a guestroom. The bare essentials furnished it. The floor was wood again. In fact, the hallway had a wood floor with a length of carpet running over it. A bathroom was next. Grace stopped in the next doorway. It was another guestroom.

  The next room caught her interest. All the pieces of furniture were antiques of some sort. There was a large wooden chest with a domed top. Grace stepped in and slowly ran a hand over it. The wood was smooth and well oiled. Next to that was an old coat rack. A uniform of some sort hung from it. At first glance it looked like Air Force dress blues. It wasn’t. Two rows of brass buttons ran down the front of it. It was a Union Civil War uniform. The pants were neatly hung behind the jacket. A length of crimson caught her eye.

  A large gun rack was centered on the wall behind her. The guns that were resting in it were long rifles and looked to date from the Civil War period too. There were three rifles and two smaller hand pistols. They all gleamed from recent polish.

  The last item that rested on the gun rack was a sword. It too was polished to a high luster. It rested carefully on the rack without its scabbard. Grace reached out softly to touch the butt of one of the pistols.

  “That’s a black-powder gun. I use it for a little hobby of mine.”

  Grace stiffened. Brice Campbell moved like a panther, silent and steady.

  “I think you’re the only person I’d be willing to make an exception to the rule of snooping through my house for.” He shot her a victorious grin. “It’s nice to know you want to know more about me, Grace.”

  “That isn’t—” She stopped, realizing she was responding emotionally to him.

  “Yes, it is what you’re doing,” he countered. “Dinner conversation isn’t your style.”

  He was right. A curl of excitement hit her belly because it felt almost intimate to be read so well. Everyone thought they understood her but it was rarely true.

  “But that leaves me wondering if I should just pull your hair next to see if you’ll chase me.”

  “I will not.” She snapped but felt the sting of a blush spreading across her face.

  “Too bad. I had a great ending planned for when I let you catch me at the bedroom down the hallway.”

  “I could catch you if I wanted to.” The words were past her lips before she realized she was playing right into his plan.

  “Oh, you want to, Grace. You just don’t know how to recognize the signs. You might be a psychic but you are also a very attractive woman.”

  His eyes slowly moved down her length. There was a blatant honesty about the way he looked her over. He always brought his eyes back to hers when he did it. A small shiver raced down her spine in response. Brice Campbell wasn’t interested in just looking. There was a promise burning in his eyes that made her shift back a step.

  “Is it people that make you nervous? Or me?”

  His question was simple yet confusing. There were always questions asked about her, but it had been a really long time since someone actually looked her in the eye and asked her.

  “It’s… People are distracting. Emotions disturb my focus.”

  Brice crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes tried to sink into hers. Grace shifted as the attention made her warm. Her skin actually began to grow hot as he watched her. Her clothing felt too tight.

  “Why are you so worried about being distracted? Dinner isn’t a life or death situation. My cooking’s not that bad.”

  A tiny smile lifted her lips. Brice’s mouth answered the expression with a grin.

  “You should do that a little more often.”

  “I don’t issue invitations I’m not interested in honoring.” Grace let her smile sit on her lips as she stepped toward the doorway. His gaze watched her intently before he took one long step that blocked the exit.

  “Not every man thinks a smile means a woman wants to jump into bed with him.”

  “You’re hoping it does.” The words came out of her mouth on impulse. Grace slammed her teeth together but too late. Tossing a challenge out was really stupid. His lips curled back into a wide grin that showed his teeth. He stepped closer, making his body seem far larger than it was. She felt small next to him and his strength seemed to grow as her body shifted away from him again. It wasn’t something she could control. Her breath came in small pants as she caught his scent.

  “Maybe I am hoping that was an invitation. Come over here so we can find out.”

  She shook her head, but her nipples were stabbing through her shirt, telling a much different story.

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  Something flashed across his eyes before he shot his hand out to capture her wrist. His body moved with solid purpose, binding her into his hard embrace. Grace gasped for air as her flesh responded with searing emotion to the touch.

  “I don’t think so, you’re blushing.”

  Grace thrust her hands forward to brace against his chest.

  “Which is an invitation all by itself.”

  He lowered his firm mouth to hers. He traced the corners of her lips with his, pushing against the firm lips of her closed mouth. He wrapped one hand around her face and used his thumb to pull her chin down to allow him access. Warm and determined, his lips moved over hers, pushing aside her resistance as they sought out her taste. His tongue was a bold invader that demanded the deepest secrets of her mouth. Heat exploded in her belly as his chest rubbed against her sensitive nipples.

  “You taste as good as you feel.”

  He slid his hand down the length of her arm, captured her wrist and pulled it up in front of her eyes. His fingers deftly moved the top of her gloves aside as they settled over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. Grace pushed against the embrace. His arms tightened as her body exploded with heat.

  “Your pulse is racing.” He traveled one large hand over the smooth column of her throat to press against the pulsing artery in her neck.

  Releasing the pulse point, Brice slid his hand down the side of her face before settling his mouth on top of hers once more. He demanded a response that she didn’t seem to have the discipline to deny.

  Emotion crested over her like a wave. Grace found temptation sweeping her along in its grip as she balanced on the sharp edge of sensation. Her fingers curled into talons as she struggled for release from the overwhelming stimulus of his touch. Every inch of contact between their bodies burned.

  Desire became a driving force inside her, and Grace spread her fingers out on his chest, seeking the ridges of muscle he was using to hold her against him. Pressed to his huge frame, she could feel his erection as it pulsed against her ribs, making her belly tighten with need. A soft moan escaped her mouth when he lifted his lips from hers.

  Cradling her head in his hand, he tipped it back until his mouth could find the exposed length of her neck. She nestled her hips against his body as she surrendered to his touch.

  Another moan escaped her throat when Brice closed his lips over the ivory skin of her neck. That feeling of being dominated swept her, making her moans deep expressions of yearning. Her hips twitched forward in blatant invitation.

  Brice raised his head and locked gazes with her. Moving a hand, he gently palmed a breast. Tracing the beaded nipple with the pad of his thumb, he watched her eyes spring open in response.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to chase me down to my bedroom?”

  The harsh rasp of his breath hit her ears as his hand gently squeezed her breast again. A jolt of fire spread down to her center, making her body scream with need. The pu
re intensity of it was too much to understand. Grace aimed a brutal shove at his chest.

  “I guess that is a yes. Maybe it’s a good thing Jacobs is waiting.” Brice reached his hand down to snag a rifle from its rack. His eyes were hard as they moved over her face, but he pulled a powder horn from the end of the rack and abruptly left the room.

  The wall behind her transformed from prison to support as Brice went out the doorway. Grace let her body slump against it as she struggled for the emotional stability that seemed to have crumbled away so very quickly. Her lips were alive with tiny pulses of feeling as she fought for the detachment so very necessary for her focus to become complete.

  Heat was radiating along every square inch of her skin in some unspoken need for her clothing to simply be discarded. Her breasts were straining against the sports bra she had on and she couldn’t ever remember the garment being so uncomfortable. Pulling a deep breath into her lungs, she felt the heat move into her core to set off a pulse that she felt directly in her sex.

  Grace ground her teeth together in anger. The pulse of arousal was unmistakable and she hated it. Being at the mercy of her body was annoying as hell. She pressed her thighs together as she tried to clear her mind.

  Control returned by slow measures. The explosive discharge of a weapon reached her ears. Any topic was welcome if it meant the end of her awareness of Brice’s kiss.

  The rifle discharged again. Grace stepped out on to the back patio and watched as Brice lowered it to begin the process of reloading. He lifted a powder horn to the muzzle and poured a measure of the black powder into the barrel of the gun. Next went a ball and then he used a long rod to pack it all firmly into the barrel of the gun.

  Brice handed the weapon off to Jacobs, issuing careful instructions to him. Grace watched as Jacobs pulled the trigger mechanism. The rifle discharged with a cloud of smoke.

  “Where do you fire this thing off at?”

  “We have an historical group that gets together once a month. Mock battle and a dance. You should come by this weekend. It’s one of the local ways of unwinding in Benton.”