Forcing those thoughts from his mind, he headed toward her bathroom. He had just stepped over the threshold and placed the toolbox on the floor when she frantically called out his name.
He rushed to the living room and saw total shock on her face. “Summer? What’s wrong?”
She stared up at him, barely able to force words past her lips. But he did hear the one single name she said.
“Tyrone.”
He looked at her, confused, not sure why she was bringing up the man who’d caused her nothing but grief. “What about Whitman, Summer?”
She glanced down and he followed her gaze to the mail sprawled at her feet. He quickly figured that something in one of the letters must have upset her.
He bent down, picked up the envelopes and flipped through them. Then he saw a letter from the Texas Parole Board. From the look of the envelope—specifically, all the stamp marks all over it—the post office had made several attempts to deliver it to her.
He pulled out the letter and read it, and then took a deep breath. As a former police officer, he was familiar with Texas law regarding those who’d been victims of violent crimes. A standard letter was issued to notify victims of the parole board’s decision to release an inmate.
Darius glanced up at the date of the letter. It had been sent over a month ago. Tyrone Whitman was now a free man.
* * *
“I want you to drink this and please don’t tell me that you don’t need it because you do,” Darius said, walking over to where Summer sat on the sofa with a cup of coffee laced with brandy in his hand.
Something had had him on edge all day, and he hadn’t been able to figure out what. But now he knew. The thought that the man who had caused Summer so much grief had only served seven years of a twenty-year sentence made him very angry. But right now, Summer didn’t need his anger. More than anything, she needed his support.
Surprisingly, she took the cup without giving him a hard time and took a sip. A frown appeared on her face and he knew why—he had made it a little too strong but if anything, it would help her sleep.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, breaking the quiet stillness of the room and leaning forward to place the cup on the coffee table. “How can Tyrone be out of prison? That makes no sense.”
Darius had to agree with her. It definitely made no sense given the man’s crime. They should have put him in jail and thrown away the key. There was no way Whitman should be free to walk around. At least not on this planet. How could they have done such a thing?
He cringed whenever he thought about the final days of the trial and the threats Whitman had shouted out to Summer, saying what he would do to her if he ever got out. He wondered if Summer was remembering those days. He doubted she could forget. She stood and began pacing the floor. He watched her. He of all people knew how she felt, how upset she had to be.
“Tomorrow I’ll make a few calls and try to pinpoint his whereabouts,” he said, trying to make her feel secure. “Usually when someone who has committed a serious crime is paroled, they’re released with a number of restrictions. I bet Whitman can’t leave Houston.”
She stopped pacing and glanced over at him with blatant hope in her gaze. “You think so?”
“I’ll find out tomorrow.”
Seeing the panic she was fighting to control gave him pause. At that moment she was no longer the confident, self-assured woman he had watched over the past two weeks. Now there was real fear in her eyes and a sign of helplessness in her voice, and he didn’t like it.
Crossing the room he pulled her into his arms. And when she began to tremble while he held her close, whatever hard casting surrounding his heart began to crumble. She needed him and there was no way he could not be there for her.
As if she was relieved to be able to hold on to something solid, she wrapped her arms around him. He was unprepared for the slew of emotions that rushed through him. He would protect her with his life if he had to, and would never let Whitman get close to her again.
He pulled back slightly, wanting to look at her, to make sure she was okay, and when his gaze settled on her lips, he was drawn to them like a magnet. Without any control, he lowered his mouth to hers.
The moment he drew her tongue into his mouth and began feasting on it, he felt sensations all the way to his toes and couldn’t do anything but shiver with the pleasure of their intimacy. He drew his arms around her, tightening his hold to bring her body flush with his.
Summer felt his hardness, firm and rigid, pressing against her and marveled that his body was letting her know how much he wanted her. The only times she’d ever been kissed with such heat and passion was when he did the kissing.
He shifted the angle of his head, which caused her to follow as she tilted the curve of her mouth to his and nearly moaned out loud when his tongue took hold of hers with an intensity that made her weak in the knees.
When he finally released her lips, she leaned into him and sighed deeply. She had needed that kiss. She had needed the connection.
He felt firm, warm and solid—everything she needed at that moment. And in his arms she felt safe and secure. Protected. The thought that Tyrone was no longer locked up behind bars sent real fear through her, fear she was trying hard not to show. But every time she remembered those threats he’d yelled out in the courtroom while being taken away, she couldn’t ignore the real panic that wanted to overtake her entire being.
“I don’t want you to stay here tonight. You should come home with me, Summer.”
She leaned back in his arms and met his gaze. “I can’t do that, Darius. I’ll be okay and—”
“No, Summer, think about it. I don’t want to scare you, but until we know for sure that Whitman is in Houston, I don’t want you here alone. What if those two incidents at the shelter had nothing to do with a disgruntled husband or boyfriend? What if Whitman is in violation of his parole and is not in Houston but here in Somerset and responsible for leaving that note on your windshield as well as slashing your tires?”
Darius saw the glint of real fear in her eyes when she considered those possibilities. What he’d said was true. He was not deliberately trying to scare her but she had to face the facts. And until he checked to see just where Whitman was and what he was doing, he would not let her feel safe. Hell, as far as he was concerned, as long as Whitman walked the streets he wouldn’t advise Summer to feel safe. She had become an obsession to the man. In Whitman’s eyes, she had betrayed him and he intended to teach her a lesson for doing so. He had made that threat in the courtroom with a crazed look in his eyes. Darius would never forget it.
“I’ll go back to the shelter and sleep on the sofa in my office, and—”
“And what if word gets around to the women at Helping Hands that you, the woman who counsels them, is in the same predicament they are? Will that offer them any real hope for a brighter future when the man who disrupted your life seven years ago is still doing so?”
Summer’s throat tightened as she stared up at him. She wished she could go anywhere but home with him. Being in such close quarters when she was feeling so vulnerable would be temptation she wasn’t sure she could handle.
“Go on and pack an overnight bag for now, at least until I find out a few things tomorrow. If I get information indicating Whitman is in Houston behaving himself under the watchful eye of a parole officer, then I’ll bring you back here tomorrow. Until then, you’re going to be with me, Summer.”
Summer breathed in deeply. A part of her wanted to scream out that this had all been a mistake, a nasty nightmare, and she would wake up any minute snuggled in Darius’s arms for another reason, one that didn’t have anything to do with Tyrone.
Darius released her, dropping his arms. “Get your bag so we can go. I’ll wait here.”
Summer looked at Darius, knowing his mind was set about her going home with him. There was n
othing she could say to make him consider leaving her here tonight. But a part of her didn’t want to be here tonight, the part that vividly recalled Tyrone’s threats. She was well aware of what the man was capable of.
Because she hadn’t lived in town for long, she hadn’t gotten to know her neighbors. There were elderly couples that lived on either side of her that she would see on occasion. But other than the staff at the shelter, Darius was the only person she knew in Somerset. She had planned to join some community organizations but hadn’t gotten around to doing so.
Making a decision, she said, “All right. It won’t take me long to get my things.”
A faint smile touched his eyes. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her heart felt full. Some things had changed, but Darius was Darius, the man who’d always been and forever would be her knight in shining armor. The one person she could always depend on to be there for her.
Without saying anything else, she rushed off to her bedroom to pack.
Chapter 8
Summer fell in love with Darius’s home the moment she walked through the door. Although it was too dark outside for her to see everything, she knew he had taken her to a sprawling two-story ranch house. When she stepped into his living room, she felt a sense of comfort. She knew it was strange for her to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. During the short drive he had made her feel safe, assuring her that he would find out everything he could about Tyrone’s whereabouts and that until he did, she would stay with him.
She glanced around and wondered if he’d hired an interior designer to decorate his home. Everything was color coordinated perfectly, and the furniture complemented the decor. A huge brick fireplace took up one entire wall and a bevy of windows guaranteed sunshine deep in the house during the daylight hours.
To shield the foyer from the interior rooms, a glass-blocked wall was erected between the main living area and the front door. The furniture in the living room was dark, rich leather and looked comfortable as well as sturdy.
“You have a beautiful home, Darius,” she said when he followed her inside, carrying her overnight case.
“Thanks. Come on and let me get you settled in the guest room. It’s past midnight and you have to be tired.”
She was, and couldn’t wait to get a good night’s sleep, or at least try, she thought. But then she figured that he had to be tired, as well. He had spent the day at both the shelter and the refinery.
Moments later, after following him up a flight of stairs, she stepped into the guest bedroom. She glanced around in total awe. The spacious room had a high roof beam with Old Hickory decor. The king-size bed appeared massive, and the bedspread was a colorful patchwork that matched the country curtains.
“Evidently, your security company is doing well,” she said.
When he didn’t respond, she glanced over at him and saw a hardness that had formed around his mouth. What had she said to irritate him?
“Darius?”
“Yes, it’s doing well,” he finally replied in a somewhat biting tone. “There’s a guest bath over there with a Jacuzzi tub,” he said, pointing across the room. “My bedroom is at the end of the hall if you need anything. Good night.”
Summer held her composure as she watched him quickly leave, closing the door behind him. Again she wondered what she had said that had hit a nerve with him. Why had commenting on his success bothered him?
She moved toward the bed and decided that when she saw him in the morning, she would find out.
* * *
Darius lay in bed wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. After he’d left Summer, he had made his rounds, making sure everything was locked and secured before going to his bedroom. There he had continued to stew over her comment, which had reminded him that a man’s wealth was all she cared about.
He rubbed a hand down his face, not wanting to think that, but what else was he supposed to think? Now that she knew he had a little money, would her attitude toward him change?
He had brought her to his home to protect her, but that didn’t mean he had to forgive her for all her past deeds. He wasn’t sure that he could. His hands tightened into fists. He heard a sound and glanced over at the illuminated clock on the nightstand. It was almost two in the morning. Since his state-of-the-art security system hadn’t sounded to alert him of an intruder, he guessed that Summer was up and moving around in his home. Evidently, she couldn’t sleep, either.
Easing out of the bed, he slipped on a pair of jeans. He walked out of his bedroom and immediately saw a light shining downstairs.
When he reached the living room, he didn’t see her anywhere. He gently pushed open the kitchen door. She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking what appeared to be a cup of tea, wearing a silk bathrobe belted around the waist. And although he had a feeling she was fighting hard not to do so, he could tell by the trembling of her shoulders that she was crying. Tears from any woman were his downfall—and when they came from Summer, doubly so.
Crossing the room, he fought the tightening of his heart. Hearing his movement, she whipped her head around and met his gaze. But she hadn’t been quick enough to wipe away her tears. Without asking what the tears were for, he reached out his arms. “Come here, Summer.”
She stared at him for a moment and he wasn’t sure exactly what she would do. Then she rose to her feet and crossed the distance separating them. He pulled her into his arms and when he did so, she buried her face in his chest.
“Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. Things are going to be okay.”
She shook her head and wiped her eyes, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “No, they’re not. I’ve gotten you upset with me and I don’t know why.”
At that moment, he felt like a total ass and wished there was a way he could take back his earlier behavior, but he couldn’t. So he stood there and held her in his arms, remembering times past when he would hold her the same way just moments before he would claim her mouth with his.
He knew at that moment that his desire for her was just as keen as it had ever been and, unable to fight what he was feeling, he gazed into her face just seconds before using the tip of his tongue to trace a line across her lips.
He heard the catch in her breath and tried to ignore it. He eased closer, unable to stop his body from responding to it. His hard erection pressed against her, warming him in a way he hadn’t been warmed in a long time. His tongue left the corners of her mouth to glide over her bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth to suck on it a little. And then there was the feel of her nipples pressing into his bare chest like hardened tips.
He released her bottom lip, but only long enough to press his mouth fully onto hers, needing this taste of her, liking how she trembled in his arms not from fear but from his safekeeping. He had thought about this part of their relationship many times, the moments when he would capture her mouth and take them both to another level. Then one night their kissing had driven them to lose control and they had made love. He continued to kiss her deeply, wanting to lose himself in the kiss again like he had that night. And wanting to lose himself inside of her. He couldn’t for the life of him remember connecting to any woman and feeling this way.
“Darius.”
The sound of his name sent shudders of arousal through him. It was spoken in a breathless tone, a voice barely able to do anything but purr out a sexy timbre. It made the heat within him rise to a temperature that could easily cause him to boil over.
He shifted his hips and thighs to plaster them closer to the juncture of hers. Every cell within his body felt vibrantly alive, sensitized to her. His mind was finally in sync with what the rest of his body already knew. He wanted her.
He had to have her.
There was no question about his wants and his needs, only about how long he could last without having them satisfied. He pulled back, separating their mouth
s, but his gaze held hers and he knew she saw in his features the desire he could not hide. His entire being was ruled by an urge to mate with her, to share a physical intimacy to a degree he hadn’t had since the last time they’d been together.
While her eyes continued to hold his, she brushed the back of her hand across his cheek and the caress sent shivers through him. He let out the breath he’d been holding, and his hands dropped from her waist to cup her backside, bringing her snug against him.
He could feel the fluttering in her stomach stirring against his erection, making it throb. His nostrils picked up her scent and blood pounded through his veins. He felt himself losing what little control he had and fought to rein it back in. Then she did something he hadn’t expected. She made a move he couldn’t combat.
She reached out and eased down his zipper before inserting her hands through the opening to cup him, as if she needed to touch, stroke and massage his aroused body part, getting reacquainted with its size and thickness. She didn’t break eye contact with him, and he grew even more aroused with her bold ministrations. The more she stroked, the more his body vibrated, making blood rush through his veins, all going directly to that throbbing part of his body.
Minutes ticked by as he continued to stand there and stare at her while she literally drove him over the edge with her hand. He studied her face, saw the intent look in her eyes, the need to touch him this way. There was a feminine glow in her gaze that stirred everything male within him, and then once again, catching him off guard, she leaned in closer, stood on tiptoes and slid her tongue all around his lips, leaving a wet path in its wake. She caressed his mouth with the tip of her tongue the same way her fingertips were now stroking his aroused shaft.
He heard himself groan at the pleasure easing up his spine and he knew if he didn’t stop her now, he would embarrass himself in her hands when he preferred being inside of her body.
One More Night Page 10