“Trent, like you said, it was a long time ago.”
“Don’t, Tara, I need this. I need to apologize.” He put down his utensils. “It sounds silly to speak of it now but it’s part of who we are and what I’m trying to say is that I’d like—”
“Trent, are you saying you’d like to date me?”
“I’m saying that I never forgot you and I’d like another chance. The grown-up version.”
“Trent, no, I—”
“Tell me you’re not attracted to me.” If there was one thing he was, it was persistent, a result of being the only boy in his family. His father had died years ago. That had left him, his mother and three sisters. Persistence had occasionally trumped being outnumbered and often outvoted.
She looked up. “Don’t make me say it,” she said in a soft voice.
“Say what?”
“I never forgot you and I never wanted to let you go in the first place. There, I said it.” She stood up. “Pay the bill. I’ll be outside.”
Five minutes later, he found her. Her back was to him and she was standing on the edge of the boardwalk that fronted this block of restaurants. She turned as he approached.
He took her hand. “Like I said, I never forgot you either, Tara.”
They walked back to the hotel in silence. But at the door to their room, she turned to face him.
“This doesn’t mean what you think it does,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Sex isn’t even on the table.” Despite what she’d said, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Her hands slid down his chest and her body followed and made him feel every curve. “I’m just warning you. If we go there, I don’t know if I can turn back.”
He knew what she meant. There was too much history between them already, sex took it to another level.
He looked at her with fresh appreciation and was reminded of another of the many things he’d loved about her. There were never any games, she told him exactly where he stood and what to expect.
He closed the hotel room door behind them.
“Let’s start this right,” he said and tried to keep his expectations low. He’d be happy with whatever outcome she decided on. He kissed her, her lips hot and soft beneath his. Her body pressed against his. The softness of her, the small moan that she shared as his tongue touched hers, as his hands moved lower, were erotic. It was like the past had come alive and yet this was nothing like the past. That had been hot, but this took it to another level.
“Trent, no. Stop, please.”
She spoke in midkiss, making the words like caresses against his lips.
“Stop.”
It took seconds for that word to register in his passion-dulled brain. He was thankful that she’d put a stop to it both in her earlier words and now her actions. There was no way he could have. He was caught in the moment.
He let her go and went to the washroom, where he rinsed his face and hair, as if the cool water would also cool his desire. When he came back, she was sitting on the edge of the bed. He sat down beside her.
“I keep forgetting that you have a whole other world that you’ll return to after this is over, a job that’s a world away from what I do.” She shook her head. “I’m going to miss this.” She paused. “You.”
He took her hands. “Right now, you are my job. But you’re so much more than that.”
“Trent, don’t.” She shook her head. “There’s so much you don’t know about me.”
“Like what?” He waited, wondering what it might be. He was sure that he knew pretty much everything about her. Or at least, he thought he did. He’d known her years ago and he knew her now. There were no secret children or husbands squirreled away. That would have been dug up. It would have been part of her file. That was necessary information.
“I loved and lost,” she said sadly. “Or more accurately, I was loved and lost.”
“We were young and I was stupid.”
“It wasn’t you,” she replied. “You get over that young love...”
Despite her earlier claim, that was a slam to his ego. It was harsh and unlike her. He wondered where that had come from. As he thought that, the hope that they could rekindle their relationship slipped away. She didn’t feel the way he did. He’d seen the signs all wrong.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it quite like that. It’s just that my last boyfriend, Mark... The way he died devastated me.” She looked up with teary eyes. “The guilt of knowing that he died thinking that I loved him, that I’d marry him, almost killed me.”
“Ah, Tara. I’m so sorry.” Trent took her in his arms and held her. “But he died believing you loved him. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I know that now,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a bemused smile at the direction the conversation had gone.
“We should call it a night,” she said.
Fifteen minutes later, she had washed up and tucked herself into the far edge of the bed. It was like she was a ball field away. She yawned, pulling the covers to her chin. But her gaze was on him.
He sat on his side and pulled his shirt over his head.
“What happened?” she asked with a frown.
He knew what she meant. It was hard to miss the scar that had almost killed him. The thick eight-inch scar that ran down his right shoulder.
“I took a knife during a drug bust,” he said.
“You could have been killed! Trent—why? Why do you do this?”
“Because someone has to do it and—”
Her fingers were soft on his skin, hot and tingly as they ran down the scar. He couldn’t say anything or, more accurately, didn’t want to say anything. The scar said it all and her touch made him melt. If silence brought more of such caresses, he could be silent forever.
“You always wanted to do this, be in law enforcement. I remember you talking about it. I’m so proud of you, Trent. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned your motives. I know why you do it—it’s your life.”
“It’s a job,” he said, brushing away her praise as something he had no need for. He needed her in other ways.
He leaned forward, the erotic feel of her touch gone. She’d said those words about being proud of him like she was some sort of mother figure. She’d never been that to him and she never would. She was his first love.
“It’s who you are.” She sat up, the oversize T-shirt sagging around her but failing to hide her curves.
He tore his gaze away from the beauty that was off-limits to him, and instead looked at her face, her dark expressive eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You accomplished a dream,” she said. “To be in law enforcement. I remember when you first told me but even back then that was old news. It’s in your blood. In fact, I remember your mother saying that. How is she?”
“Making her own life and doting on her grandkids. She’s living in a condo and doing some traveling,” he said. “And you’re dodging the question. What do you mean, it’s in my blood?”
“Your triple-or-so great-granddad was a cop in London. I’m not sure how many greats were attached to that.” She looked at him and laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”
“When did my mother tell you that?” he asked. The annoyance was replaced with a bit of pleasure that she had cared enough to remember such a trivial fact.
“Years ago,” she said. “I was in high school and still in Pueblo. Obviously,” she added the last almost as an afterthought.
“And you didn’t forget,” he said. He remembered her penchant for history—world, personal, other people’s families, all of it.
They were quiet for a minute or two.
“Good night, Trent,” she said as she turned out her light.
He thought she�
��d fallen asleep until she spoke again.
“I don’t like putting you in danger,” she said.
“Get some sleep.”
Ten minutes went by. He stared at the ceiling. She lay on her side but kept twisting and turning. Finally, she sat up.
“I can’t sleep,” she said. “And it looks as if you can’t either.”
He got up and came over to sit down on the edge of the bed, his arm around her. He massaged her shoulders. “Stop thinking or you’ll never sleep.”
“You should talk,” she said with a laugh that took the edge off the words. “Why don’t you snuggle next to me, instead of the distance of Madison Square Garden away?” She looked at him. “Don’t look like that, Trent.”
“What do you mean? You can’t see in the dark.”
“I can see everything about you, Trent Nielsen. Okay, I can sense. And what you’re thinking is not what I meant. Nothing like that. Just some old-fashioned cuddling might calm us both down.”
“Maybe,” he said and knew that she was more wrong than she’d ever been in her life. He only hoped that she fell asleep fast.
He lay down beside her and turned her face to his, giving her a gentle kiss. She pulled back.
“Don’t,” she said as she put a finger to his lips and then her hands were on his shoulders as she kissed him. “Just hold me,” she whispered, her lips brushing his.
But the heat of her body, its softness and the words that were like a promise between them had him hard without a conscious thought. He twisted his body slightly away from her so that she’d never know what she’d done or what his body demanded.
She lay with her head on his shoulder and his arm across her belly. It was a belly that was firm, as if she worked out. He’d noticed that before and he’d said nothing. Her breathing was regular, as if just having him near had relaxed her enough to sleep. He’d hoped when she’d asked to cuddle that she meant more, that the feel of him beside her would have her wanting him. He should have known better. She was stronger than that. He knew that now. She’d run from death once again and only the pallor in her face earlier or her trouble sleeping gave any indication of what she’d escaped.
Within minutes, he could hear her steady breathing, knew she slept.
He lay thinking of tomorrow and the next few days, how they’d spend the time until Enrique got them out of here. And it was heading toward the wee hours before he finally dropped off for a few hours of sleep. His thoughts had been plagued with the fact that she’d run from death and she’d survived—twice. By the law of averages, her luck had run out.
It was up to him to change Lady Luck.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The morning sun was bright. Trent squinted as he looked down the street. He was standing just outside the hotel. He’d made it to the lobby by the stairs in record time. He’d left his sunglasses in the room in his haste to find Tara.
He couldn’t believe she’d just disappeared, couldn’t believe after everything that had happened that she’d do this. She’d been gone when he’d gotten out of the shower.
He was angry and sick with worry at the same time. Surely she knew the danger in going out alone. They might be in a place that he thought was safe. But there were no guarantees. There was always the wild card. They could never take the chance.
What the hell was she thinking? They’d done this before. She knew the routine. She’d seen what could happen, the possibility of danger exploding around them. He stood on the sidewalk just outside the hotel and tried not to fume. Where was she?
He scanned the street. It was empty, too early in the morning for many to be out and about. He heard a car door slam. Someone called out a window. And then there was silence.
“Trent.”
He spun around.
She had just come out of the hotel and she looked rather sheepish. “Were you looking for me? You didn’t think...” Her hand was on his arm. “I was just admiring the art on the wall in the small room adjacent to the lobby.”
Relief flooded him at the sight of her. “You scared the crap out of me,” he said. “Don’t do that again. Promise me.”
“I promise, Trent.” She looked at him and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I really frightened you, didn’t I?”
“I was afraid that some harm had come to you. I couldn’t bear if—”
“Don’t say it,” she cut in. She looked at him in a way that made him melt. She seemed unaffected, like she had a core of steel, and yet she was turning him into a melting pot of desire.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” he said. It was better to think of other things. “And please, don’t slip away like that again. Anything could happen. We don’t know who could be on the streets. No matter how careful I am, there’s always a chance...”
“That someone is here looking for me?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Remote possibility but one that should never be discounted.”
* * *
TRENT CHECKED IN with Jackson later that day.
“I’ve spoken to Enrique,” Jackson said. “There’s a small runway outside of town. Do you know it?”
“I do.” Trent had mapped out the area on the hotel computer on arrival.
“You’re still on. Meet his man there, like he said, at 6:00 a.m. Tuesday morning,” Jackson went on, giving other details.
Trent hung up feeling relieved to finally see a window to getting Tara out of here and home to safety.
* * *
THE DAY WENT by as if they were typical tourists. They strolled the beach, checked out the shops and enjoyed the sun.
But the dangers weren’t over. There was still the danger of the night. They’d shared a room before, last night and the night before that. But sharing a room with her wasn’t getting any easier. If it had been just a room, he might survive, but the bed was going to kill him.
The thought of her so close, hearing her move softly in the night, sensing her presence, it was all pushing the limits of his restraint. No matter what he told himself, he was still tempted. So far, he’d made it through without stepping over the boundaries he set for himself. He’d never felt this way about another woman but with Tara it was different. With the second night looming, with a king-size bed and nothing but inches between them, he wasn’t sure if his willpower would hold. He was thankful he had her iron will to rely on, for she’d already dictated no sex.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, tossing the bed dilemma out for now. “Let’s grab something to eat and call it an early night?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said and there was a strange expression on her face. One he’d never seen before. “Not for food.”
He stood there for a moment, hearing what she’d said but not translating it, not immediately.
“Trent,” she murmured, and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The kiss was hot, long and passionate. It promised other things and was all the invitation he needed. He wanted her in every way a man wants a woman. He wanted her in his bed and he wanted to make her his, to be hers. There was nothing about her that he didn’t want.
He had to end the kiss and he couldn’t, for the kiss was passionate, her lips heavy on his. The heat of her pressed against him and her body, all of it too tempting to let go. Especially when he had to be the one to stop it.
“I know what I said last night. But I was wrong. I never forgot you, Trent. No one else could compare.” She said the words against his lips. Her breath hot against him, just like everything else about her.
At first he felt, more than heard her words. What she said didn’t register right away. When they did, they were words he’d never thought he’d hear. She’d been lost to him. But she’d never been forgotten. He wondered why she was saying these things to him now after all these years. Did she mean them, had she, like him, never forgotten what they once shar
ed? Or, when he delivered her home safe, would it be over?
“It was so long ago,” he said against the softness of her too-short hair. “And I never forgot you either.” He wasn’t sure why he said that, for now he was playing her game and he wasn’t so sure that he was going to come out unscathed.
“Kiss me,” she breathed, as if that wasn’t exactly what he’d been doing.
But his thoughts were blown away as her full lips opened and gave him the chance to take the kiss to the next level. Reason was gone as he explored the hot passion of her and was promised so much more.
He couldn’t do it.
He pulled away, letting her go. Someone had to insert sanity into this situation. Their relationship was destined to go nowhere. Each of them had their own life. And this was just a moment of insanity in a crazy race to save her life. She was acting out of character and he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation, as difficult as that might be for him. She was his priority.
“Tara. This can go nowhere.”
“Nowhere is all we need,” she said. “We’ve got tonight.”
He didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t have the will to even process the words. His brain seemed to have taken a siesta. With her body pressed against him and the passion offered in her eyes, he had no more direction than a rag doll. Her touch brought back every desire he’d never forgotten. He was in hell, and he was in heaven. She’d opened the gates wide when she stood on tiptoe, when her body ran down his as she sank back down to the flat of her feet. He was beyond aroused and soon there’d be no going back.
“Trent.”
He had to drive the passion from his mind. He had to take control of the situation or this would head to nowhere good.
She tasted of cinnamon. He remembered the stick of gum the man with the chickens had offered her on the bus. She’d put it in her pocket, for later she’d said as the man had smiled and told her how the chickens were going home to provide eggs for his family. They’d even had names.
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