Heaven and Earth by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

or whatever you call it to me again, and you don’t try hitting on me on a personal level.”
    “Now that last part stings, Deputy, but agreed. If I win, you come to the cottage, assist me in some tests. One hour’s work, with your full cooperation.”
    “Deal.” When he held out a hand, she simply stared at it blandly. “Forget it.”
    She waited for him to join her at the wall, prepared herself with long, slow breaths. “Freestyle?”
    “Okay. On three?”
    She nodded. “One, two . . .”
    They pushed off together on three, cut through the water. She didn’t intend to lose, didn’t even consider it a possibility. She swam nearly every day of her life, and she was the home team.
    She noted his form as they paced each other on the first lap. It wasn’t bad, but hers was better.
    They slapped the far wall, pushed off for the second lap.
    She was beautiful to watch, and he hoped he had the opportunity to do more of it. Under less intense circumstances. It wasn’t just strength, he noted. She had the fluid, disciplined grace of the true athlete.
    He’d never deluded himself that he qualified in that area. But if there was one thing he could do, it was swim. He had to admit he hadn’t expected them to be so evenly matched. He had a longer reach and a good seven inches on her in body length, but the woman had a powerful kick.
    He picked up the pace, testingly, on the third length. She matched it. He found himself both challenged and amused. She was toying with him. He put on more speed and admitted it was a damn good thing she’d tossed his handicap back in his face.
    The sonofabitch was like an eel, Ripley thought. When they shoved off for the final lap in tandem, she realized she’d seriously misjudged his abilities. Gathering herself, she poured it on, nipped past him by a quarter of a body length, felt her adrenaline kick in for that final push.
    And was struck with shock and dazed admiration when he streamed by her and slapped the wall two strokes ahead.
    Chest heaving, she surfaced, shoved back her goggles.No one, not even Zack, could beat her at four lengths. It was demoralizing.
    “So.” He panted, shoved his hair back. “Any time today good for you?”

    The bastard hadn’t even had the courtesy to rub it in. It only made the taste of defeat more sour. He’d been so, so damn pleasant about the whole thing. She began to wonder if he was on drugs. Surely no one could stay so even-tempered without chemical assistance.
    She worked off part of her mad shoveling snow, soothed her bruised ego with some of Nell’s famous cinnamon buns. But it picked at her, a restless fingernail at a scab, throughout the day.
    There were a number of calls to keep her busy: cars sliding off the road, a smashed window due to a poorly aimed snowball, and the usual variety of mischief that liberated kids could create on a snow day.
    Still, it worried her mind and spoiled her mood.
    In the station house, Zack listened to her muttered curses, watched her pour yet another cup of coffee. He was a patient man, and he knew his sister. He’d crossed paths with her several times that day on patrol and had recognized the signs of her temper brewing.
    But since it hadn’t passed, he was going to have to poke it out of her.
    Now seemed like a good time.
    He was enjoying a coffee break of his own, with his feet propped up on the desk.
    “Are you going to keep chewing on whatever’s got your goat, or spit it out?”
    “Nothing’s got my goat.” She slurped at coffee, burned her tongue, cursed.
    “You’ve been in a stew since you got back from the gym this morning.”
    “I don’t stew. You stew.”
    “I brood,” he corrected. “Which is a solitary and thoughtful process involving finding the solution to a conflict or situation. Stewing is stirring a bubbling pot until it boils over and spills on someone. As I’m the only one currently in harm’s way, I have a vested interest about the contents of this particular