2
SHE WAS UNEASY. Cole glanced over at her as he eased the truck into gear and slowly maneuvered it out of the parking lot and onto the dark main road. Hell, she should be. If she’d even an inkling of the thoughts that were racing through his head, she’d be a whole lot more nervous. She tried to act casual, but he didn’t miss how she stole furtive glances at him, and continually smoothed her fingers over the skirt of her dress.
Everything about her, from her accent to her little designer purse, shouted Northerner. He was betting from somewhere in the Northeast. Which meant she was probably as frigid as a New York winter. She’d no doubt be shocked if she knew of the lustful imaginings he’d just had of her. She’d probably never had a fantasy in her entire life. His eyes slid to the overnight bag that rested on the seat between them. And he remembered what had been spilling out of that bag only moments before.
Scraps of satin and lace.
He felt a smile twitch the corners of his mouth. Okay, so perhaps she did harbor a fantasy or two. He’d give a lot to know what they were. Then do his damnedest to make them all come true.
He’d returned to Black Stone Gap just two days earlier, having been gone for more than five years. Not even Sully knew his real reason for coming back. He’d told his friend that he was looking for work in the coal mines, knowing the word would spread quickly in the small community. A good mining engineer was worth his weight in gold.
But what he hadn’t told Sully was that he didn’t really need the work; he was undercover for the Department of Labor, investigating an alarming spike in the number of accidents in Black River Mine No. 2, the biggest and most active coal mine in the region. He hadn’t wanted to come back; he’d been happy enough in Norfolk, working as a structural engineer for the state of Virginia. Until the night he’d received a call from a friend and former instructor at Virginia Tech.
Cole had studied mining engineering under Stu Zollweg, and had later participated as part of an inspection team led by Zollweg to identify safety issues in several West Virginia mines. He’d found the fieldwork both challenging and satisfying. After obtaining his Master’s degree, he’d returned to Black Stone Gap and been hired as an engineer in the Black River Mines. But less than six months into the job, he’d lost a good friend in a tunnel collapse. He’d been consumed with guilt and anger; he should have known about the weak tunnel structure. He should have been able to avert the accident.
Instead of sticking around to help uncover what had gone wrong, he’d bolted. He’d moved to Norfolk the day after his friend’s funeral and had gotten a job as a structural engineer, helping to build highway tunnels and bridges.
When Stu Zollweg had called out of the blue, Cole couldn’t have been more surprised. But the offer he made was even more surprising. Stu worked part-time for the Department of Labor as a mine safety inspector. The Bureau of Mines had sent safety inspectors into the Black River Mines on several occasions, but had failed to uncover any significant safety infractions. So they couldn’t understand why the accident rate in the Black River Mines was higher than other mines in the country. Now the feds wanted someone to go into those mines undercover and find out why the accident rate was climbing. Stu had recommended Cole for the job.
If he could gain access to the tunnels, he could provide evidence of what he had long suspected—that the mines were operating in direct violation of Federal safety codes. He just needed to prove it.
The air-conditioning in the cab was strong enough to softly stir the fabric of her dress, and even by the dim dashboard lights he could see goose bumps raised along her slim arms.
“Cold?” he asked. “I can turn down the air if you’d like.”
“No, thanks. It feels good.”
She started to say something more when the radio unit on the dash emitted a sudden, loud squawk and a disembodied, static voice filled the cab of the truck.
“Mac, you there? Over.”
Cole lifted a handheld mouthpiece from its cradle and pressed a button, speaking into the instrument. “Yeah, I’m here. I’m giving the client a lift home, and then I’ll bring the truck and car in. Over.”
“Do me a favor, Mac,” came the reply. “Can you bring the truck back first? I just got a call that Stu Barlow’s boy wrecked his truck out on the gap road and forced another car into the ravine. The kid’s fine, but his vehicle’s blocking the road. Bobby just headed over there with the other wrecker, so I’ll take yours and meet him there. Over.”
“Got it. See you in two. Over and out.” Cole replaced the mouthpiece and gave his passenger an apologetic smile. “Looks like I need to bring the truck back to Sully first, then I’ll give you that lift to wherever it is you’re staying.” When she didn’t immediately answer, he gave her a quick glance. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
Her attention had sharpened on him. “You’re not Sully?”
Cole grinned. “No, ma’am.” Keeping one eye on the dark road, he extended a hand toward her. “Name’s Cole MacKinnon.”
After a moment, she took his hand. Her fingers were slender and cool. “I’m Lacey Delaney.”
Cole thought the name suited her. Soft. Feminine. It conjured up images of delicate lingerie, like the stuff she had in that bag. He slanted her a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” She made no move to withdraw her hand, and Cole’s grin broadened as he saw the turnoff to Sully’s garage come into view. “Uh, ma’am?” She gave him a questioning look and he dropped his gaze pointedly to their clasped hands. “I’ll have to shift in another minute, but in order to do that I’ll need—”
She snatched her fingers from his.
LACEY HAD BEEN so busy mooning at the man, she hadn’t even realized she was hanging on to his hand. Worse, he was completely aware of her reaction to him. She cleared her throat uncomfortably as the truck turned into a gravel parking lot. There was a large, multibay garage at the far end and she could see lights on in the small office there. A sign over it read Sully’s Garage—24 Hour Towing. At the other end of the building were two blue taxicabs, and a smaller sign that read Tara’s Taxi Service.
As Cole maneuvered the rental car into a nearby space, the door to the office opened and a huge bear of a man emerged. Sully, she presumed. He had a head of unruly dark hair and half of his face was obscured by a beard and moustache.
Cole glanced over at Lacey. “Wait here where it’s cool. I’ll unhitch the car first, and then get your things out of the back. No need for you to stand around in this heat.”
Without waiting for an answer, he opened his door and jumped down. Lacey watched as the other man approached him. She couldn’t hear their words, but she didn’t miss when Cole jerked his thumb in the direction of the truck. The bearded man turned his head toward her and Lacey barely resisted the urge to slide down lower in her seat. Sully grinned and said something, and slapped Cole on the back. Lacey heard him laughing as he strode back toward the office.
What had Cole said to him? And why did she suddenly feel like a cheap pickup? But when Cole turned and came alongside the truck to unhitch her car, she could see he wasn’t smiling. His face wore an expression of such annoyance that Lacey felt an unexpected rush of gratitude toward him. Clearly he wasn’t pleased with whatever conclusion Sully had drawn of his decision to drive her back to the motel.
But when he opened her door, his features were schooled into a mask of politeness. He extended a hand to help her down, and Lacey fumbled for a moment, trying to grasp both her overnight bag and purse. He reached in wordlessly and took the bag from her. As Lacey swung her legs around, her skirt scooted halfway up her thighs, but with one hand firmly clutched around her purse and the other warmly encased in Cole’s, she had no chance to tug it down. She heard him suck in his breath, and when she glanced at his face, she saw the heat was back in those translucent eyes.
“C’mon,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here before Sully decides to come back out.”
She