We were lucky enough to obtain this exclusive excerpt of White Heat
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Rachel Jessop and Nate Ferrentino are both operatives at private security contractor Department 6, located in L.A.
They’ve been assigned to go undercover to discover what’s going on with a cult known as the Covenanters, a cult that’s taken over a ghost town in the Arizona desert. Rachel would rather not work with Nate at all—since they had a one-night encounter that’s just an embarrassment to her now. Worse, they have to pretend to be husband and wife.In this excerpt they’re driving from LA to Arizona…
She wasn’t the only one nervous about sharing a bedroom. Nate’s grumpiness made that clear. He probably wouldn’t refuse a quick lay if he was in the right mood—he hadn’t refused last time, had he? But he didn’t want her, and he couldn’t be any more obvious about it. She wasn’t willing to get burned a second time. She’d already offered him her heart and soul, and he’d tossed them right back at her. Hell would freeze over before she ever made him that offer again.
Ignoring his order to keep her dress down, she raised it again and proceeded to paint the rest of her toenails. Without shifting her dress she couldn’t do it comfortably. If he thought ordinary behavior constituted teasing, that was his problem. They’d be “married” in name only. Until they moved into the commune, they wouldn’t even share a bedroom.
Soon after she’d finished, the scenery outside changed from the green and brown of the rolling hills surrounding L.A. to the monochrome beige of flat desert. By afternoon, they couldn’t get a radio signal and Rachel lamented the fact that she hadn’t brought her iPod. The only sound, other than the warp of their tires on asphalt, came from the fan of the air conditioner. It hummed at full speed but pumped hot air into the cab. According to Nate, they must’ve lost their coolant somewhere along the highway because he couldn’t get the AC to work any better.
“Why do you still have this old truck?” she grumbled.
“Because I like it. It has character. And it comes in handy for work—and play.”
Besides using it on various undercover jobs—jobs like this one—he sometimes took it four-wheeling with the guys. But she never would’ve agreed to ride with him if she’d thought they’d have to travel without air conditioning. She would’ve flown into Tucson and had him pick her up there. At least that would’ve eliminated this extended trek across the hottest desert in North America. It had to be one hundred and twenty degrees outside. The truck felt like an oven.
“I can’t believe this,” she complained. “We’re in the Sonoran Desert. It’s the middle of July. And we don’t have air.”
“Roll down your window.”
She did as he suggested. The wind caused strands of her hair to come loose but did little to cool her off. Drops of perspiration rolled down her back and between her breasts. She’d abandoned her sweater long ago. Now she kept raising her skirt over the closest air -conditioning vent to funnel the air up under her dress, which clung miserably to her if she didn’t.
“Do you want me to drive?” she asked, suddenly so restless she felt she couldn’t tolerate another mile.
“I’ve got it,” he said, but when she continued to shift and squirm, he pulled to the shoulder and turned off the engine.
“Change your mind?” she asked.
“No, I’m getting you a cold drink.”
He was hot, too. She could see the dampness of his T-shirt, could smell the slight tang of his sweat—and wished she found it distasteful.
A moment later, her door opened, and he stood there with a bottle of water he’d taken from the cooler in back.
“Thanks.” She reached out, but he twisted off the lid and squeezed it down the front of her dress.
Gasping at the cold, she grabbed hold of the bottle and fought to turn it back on him.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help!” he said, laughing at her futile efforts.
Mad enough at his surprise attack to scramble out and get her own bottle, she flung water at him while he circled the truck to avoid her. She got him by acting as if she’d given up, then pivoting abruptly when he made a move to get in. But he didn’t seem to mind. He merely removed the cap from a third bottle and poured it over his head.
“Better?” He grinned as he dribbled the last few drops over her head.
Knowing she looked bedraggled, she glanced down at her soaking dress. She wasn’t willing to give him any credit, but she did feel cooler. “A water fight. That’s your solution?”
“I enjoyed it,” he said. Then, in a motion that seemed as impulsive as it was unexpected, he used his thumb to stop a drop of water from rolling down to her cleavage.
Rachel caught her breath at the contact. Looking up to see him watching her intently, she stepped out of reach. “It’s my turn to drive,” she said, and hopped in before he could protest.
This was the way Nate liked Rachel best—completely undone. Her hair was a mess, her face devoid of what little makeup she’d put on, her dress damp and wrinkled and hugging every curve. He could even appreciate the thin sheen of sweat on her smooth skin. The dampness caused the soft tendrils of hair at her nape to curl. God, she was pretty. At times she took his breath away.
“What?” She glanced over as if she could feel his scrutiny and didn’t like it.
“Nothing.” He turned his attention to the rocks, soil and cacti flying past his window. During moments like these, he was so tempted to act on the attraction between them it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. He wouldn’t have bothered to fight the impulse if she was half as resilient as she pretended to be. But her desire to love him showed in those wide blue eyes every time she looked up at him. He couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability; he wouldn’t break her heart. He, of all people, knew what could happen if he did.
“We haven’t talked about Portal,” she said.
He adjusted his seat belt. “There’s not a lot to say about Portal. It’s a very small town.”
“How small?”
“Maybe fifty people, mostly ranchers, artists, birdwatchers and nature enthusiasts. Paradise used to be even smaller than Portal, until the Covenanters moved in.”
“Why aren’t we starting off in a bigger place?”
“The closest town with any significant population is Willcox. They have about thirty-five hundred people, but it’s an hour and a half from Paradise. I felt that was too far and we’d have trouble making contact with the cult.”
She fought the wind whipping at her hair by anchoring several loose strands behind her ears. “But how can a cement contractor expect to earn a living amid fifty ranchers, artists and bird-watchers? I doubt they’re the type to pay for a lot of concrete work.”
“I’m actually playing an out-of-work contractor. With the downturn in the economy, I’ve decided to go after my real aspirations—photographing wildlife. I’ll be taking pictures for a coffee-table book I hope to sell.”
Her eyebrows slid up. “Did you bring a camera?”
“Of course.”
“Nice thinking. Except that doesn’t explain to others where we get the money to eat and pay rent.”
“We’ve recently inherited a small sum from your grandfather.”
“That wasn’t in the dossier, either,” she pointed out.
“I just made it up before we left. We have this inheritance and we’re using it to spend a year in Portal to take photographs for my book, hoping to recoup expenses when we sign a big deal.”
“Okay, so you’re an aspiring photographer. What am I going to say I do?”
“You’ll be my assistant.” That would keep her at his side all the time. It was perfect. But she didn’t seem convinced.
“Don’t you think this might seem kind of random?”
“No one says we have to be the most responsible couple in the world. Reckless can be believable, too.”
She bit her lip as if contemplating what he’d said, but his explanation must’ve pacified her because she changed the subject. “How much farther do we have to go?”
He checked his Swiss Army watch. “Another four and a half hours. But we’ll hit Phoenix soon. We’ll stop there to buy your wardrobe and other supplies.”
“Are we planning to get the air conditioner fixed in Phoenix, as well?”
“We don’t have time if we want to reach Portal before dark, which is advisable considering there’ll be no city lights. I’ll fix the air-conditioning myself once we take up residence.”
“If Portal is an hour and a half from Willcox, which is the closest population center to Paradise, how far is Tucson?”
“About three hours.”
“This is sounding very remote.”
“There’s no mall.”
“Forget the mall. I’ll settle for running water.”
“We’ll have an outhouse.”
She wiped the sweat from her upper lip. “Great. Snakes and an outhouse. My two favorite things.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there to look after you.” Confident that it would provoke her feminist tendencies, he gave her a satisfied smile and she didn’t disappoint.
“I can look after myself,” she snapped.
“Aren’t you at all concerned that we’ll be so far from help, should we need it? I mean, say one of us did get bitten by a rattler. Tourniquets aren’t an attractive option if you plan on using that leg again.”
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Wasn’t that awesome? We’re giving away two copies of White Heat
White Heat is available now from HQN. You can buy it here.
