Out of Her League

by Kaylea Cross

  She shook her head and he stroked her hair, helpless to protect her from the truth. St. Michael pressed against his chest like lead. Some knight in shining armor he was.

  He hated to say it, but she needed to hear the truth. He passed a hand down the side of her ashen face. “Then chances are, he wants to finish what he started.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The last speck of blood-red sun dipped into the ocean, enveloping the world in shades of lavender and sapphire. The breeze brought the tang of salt water with it, the dampness enough to form swirls of mist along the shore. Christa came in from the back porch and found Rayne building a fire in the hearth.

  “This’ll warm you up,” he said with a smile, tossing the match into the firewood.

  After Nate’s phone call on top of the cookie incident, she doubted she’d ever be warm again.

  He dusted his hands on his well-worn jeans and urged her to sit on the floor with him, settling her in the vee of his legs and easing her against his chest. “Better?” he asked against her ear.

  “Mmm.” She barely suppressed the shiver that coursed through her, focused instead on absorbing the heat of the fire and his body.

  He turned her sideways so he could see her face, kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth before covering her lips with his own. She curled her hands around his strong shoulders and leaned up for more. “I could kiss you all night,” he whispered, then tucked her back against his chest.

  She cuddled into him, craving the sanctuary he offered and glad he wasn’t pushing her for more just yet. The flames licked over the logs piled in the grate, their crackle soothing along with the muted roar of the ocean and Rayne’s heartbeat steady under her ear. Part of her wished he would just strip off her clothes and take her here, if only to shut her brain off for a while. All she could think about was being hunted, that a predator was out there somewhere, planning to come at her again. “I don’t know if I can handle this,” she admitted.

  His hand paused in its motion over her hair. “Do you mean us, or—”

  “No, that’s the only thing I am sure of.” She squeezed him tight and she felt him relax. “I meant that he wants to kill me.”

  “Don’t.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “Don’t think about it.”

  “How can I not think about it? I can’t stop thinking about it.” She was so tense she thought she might scream, her shoulder muscles in knots, an intense headache drumming at her temples.

  “He’s not going to get anywhere near you again because we’re going to be that much more careful until he’s caught.”

  Everyone kept saying he’d get caught, reassuring her he’d be in jail soon. But when each day passed with no positive updates, no promising news, it was harder and harder for her to believe. At the very least the psycho had turned her life upside down. She’d likely lost her chance at making the national team, been chased from her home and forced to quit working, then attacked. Apparently she would have been killed if not for Patrick, and it still wasn’t over.

  How could she go on like this? Aside from the stress and trauma she’d already suffered, she had a business to run and couldn’t do it from Rayne’s living room back in White Rock. Her employees were handling the current jobs fine, but what about future projects? She needed to be out there doing assessments, giving quotes, designing and pitching her plans for each prospective new client. Without recruiting fresh clientele, her business would wither and die as surely as a plant left to bake in the summer sun. And without money coming in, how could she pay her mortgage? She could lose her house.

  A charred log crumbled into the embers, showering red sparks up the chimney. She envied their freedom.

  “Come on, let’s go for a run.”

  She must not have heard him right. She tipped her head back to stare at him “You think I feel like running?”

  “Got a better idea?”

  Yes. She wanted to go outside, stick her head in the sand like an ostrich, and hide until it was all over. Or maybe shove him onto his back, strip him naked and do all the things she’d fantasized about. But it was too soon for that, and she knew it.

  “All right, I guess it can’t hurt.” If nothing else, it might tire her out enough to let her sleep through the night for a change. She went and threw on some sweats and pulled on her running shoes. Already at the back door with Jake when she came out, Rayne loped down the steps with her dog at his heels.

  She fell into step beside him, breathing in the clean, brisk salt air, the crash of the waves and the softness of the sand muffling their footfalls. It didn’t take her long to feel the benefits to her cardiovascular system, her legs working overtime to stabilize her on the uneven surface. Her abraded ankles burned where they rubbed against her socks, but she understood now why he’d suggested the run. Her nervous system had been suspended in fight-or-flight mode, especially since the phone call this afternoon. Giving her body something to do with the restless, nervous energy was exactly what she’d needed to vent it from her system.

  “You’re in great shape,” he complimented her after about twenty minutes.

  He still had enough oxygen to talk? That was plain wrong. She wheezed a “Thanks.” Jake’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth as he panted beside her. At least someone else was feeling it.

  Thankfully Rayne soon slowed and came to a stop. “Had enough?” When she nodded he continued. “Let’s walk back to cool down.”

  Bent over at the waist, sucking in oxygen, she gave him a weary thumbs-up. After a few minutes her breathing was under control, her mind alert and her body energized. “I needed that. How did you know?” Jake trotted back to have his ears scratched.

  Rayne took hold of her other hand and laced their fingers together. “Because that’s how I deal with my adrenaline overloads when I’m all keyed up and an operation gets canned.”

  He’d talked about being prepped for a stakeout or sting op, then having the plug pulled at the last minute. All those guys with their weapons locked and loaded, ready to roll, the air reeking of testosterone, then oops— sorry fellas, no action today. Go on back to the station and wait for the next call, play tiddlywinks or something. She squeezed his hand. “Well, I get it now.”

  “Good. Running’s one of the best things to help you unwind.”

  She tipped her head back to see the sky, taking a deep breath of fresh, cool air. The stars were coming out, pinpoints in a sea of blackness. All the way back to the cottage he kept hold of her hand, the contact helping to remind her that she was safe, even if Seth was still out there somewhere, wanting her dead.

  After they had both showered, she made dinner while the mellow notes of Tony Bennett’s voice filled the room. Rayne came up behind her, turned her to face him with a smile that made her heart accelerate. “Dance with me.”

  “Now?”

  “Yep. I’ll lead, you follow.” He grasped one of her hands and slid his other down her spine to splay across her lower back, bringing her close against his body and making her grasp his shoulder for balance while the breath backed up in her lungs. The heat radiating from him filled her senses with his clean, soapy scent. She could feel him hard against her abdomen, and her own body responded with a surge of heat.

  He bent and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Let’s see if this will take your mind off everything for a while.”

  The hand resting on her back seemed to burn through her shirt as it guided her, her belly jumping as her breasts made contact with the wall of his chest. He led her smoothly while she focused on the feel of that long, lean body against hers. Something dark and needy unfurled low in her abdomen.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Christa obeyed the low murmur, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It felt completely natural to lay her cheek against the muscular curve of his shoulder. Unable to resist, she nuzzled him, inhaling his scent deeply. Hints of soap and tangy cologne.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered against her hair. Lord,
so did he. Her whole body tingled. She was so exhausted, hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the attack. Rayne was so solid and warm, the fire crackling behind her as the music crooned. They were barely moving now, swaying to the music. Her mind drifted.

  “Hey. Here I am trying to impress you with my smoothness, and you’re falling asleep on your feet.”

  She lifted her head. “Was I? Sorry.” She gave him a wry smile. “Bet that’s never happened to you before, huh?”

  He slid a thumb across her mouth. “A lot of things never happened to me before I met you. I’m in unfamiliar territory.”

  “Yeah? That makes two of us.” Because she was utterly lost in him. When he dipped his head she lifted on tiptoe and tangled her hands in his short hair. He settled his mouth over hers and kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough, bent her backward just enough so she had to hold on tight to keep her balance. Digging her fingers into the muscles in his shoulders, she battled for control.

  The ache in her chest intensified, her body raging a war between old fears of commitment, of abandonment, and this new insatiable need she was afraid to unleash. To separate the trauma of the attack from the security and emotional intimacy he represented.

  Rayne took her deeper, stroking her tongue with his as sensation zinged down into the pit of her belly. His hands caressed her neck and shoulders, eased down the length of her spine, then traced over her taut stomach and up to brush the curve of her left breast. She moaned and leaned into him, shocked at how good it felt. He brushed a thumb over her nipple, making her arch and gasp. Slow and sure, he kept moving his thumb while he licked into her mouth, leaving her trembling. She broke the kiss with a gasp and buried her face against his neck, shaking, battling the intense throbbing in her lower body.

  Don’t ever stop. The crazy plea formed, crowded her throat. She wanted to forget all the crazy melodrama, even if for one night. Wanted to lose herself in the passion simmering between them.

  “You all right?” His voice was low and rough.

  “Yeah.” Her legs wobbled as he cradled her there in the firelight.

  He must have sensed her indecision because he broke the contact and stepped back. His eyes glittered with raw male hunger that made the throb between her legs even worse.

  At least she wasn’t the only one dying of need. “Rayne—”

  “Don’t, Chris. We’ll take this as slow as you need to. Nothing else’s going to happen until you’re ready.”

  Christa’s heart turned over. If she hadn’t been in love with him already, that would have done the trick.

  ****

  As was already his habit, Rayne checked in on her before he went to bed, noting the spiral notebook clenched in one hand though she was fast asleep. He crossed the room to watch her for a moment as he prepared to switch of her bedside lamp.

  She was breathing hard, her body twitching... Ah, hell, another nightmare.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and she bolted upright with a strangled gasp, eyes wild and disoriented in her pale face. He stood still beside her, made no sudden moves as her eyes focused on him. “Easy, Chris,” he said soothingly, not daring to touch her. “You were dreaming.” Her face was glazed with perspiration and the mattress vibrated with her trembling.

  But rather than calming, she fought for air as if her throat was closed off, as if someone was strangling her.

  “Jesus.” His heart thundered as he reached for her, panic bubbling inside him. He forced it down, willing himself to appear calm for her.

  The choking gasps lessened and her body shook even more wildly, as if she were going into shock. She reached out blindly and clung to his shoulders like a lifeline, tears escaping through her clenched eyelids. It was a full minute before she gulped in lungfuls of air and fell back onto her pillow, clamping her arms around her belly and moaning, curling onto her side.

  “I’m gonna to be sick,” she blurted, shoving at him and leaping out of bed to careen into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.

  Rayne followed and stood outside the bathroom, wincing at the retching coming from inside. The toilet flushed and then the water ran in the sink. A minute later the shower came on, and he leaned his forehead against the doorframe. God, he fucking hated feeling helpless.

  After a while longer he knocked on the door. “Chris, are you all right in there?”

  No answer. Only the faint sound of crying, muffled by the spray of water.

  Fuck this. He swung the door open. “Chris?” he said again, barely making out her silhouette behind the shower curtain. She huddled with her arms wrapped around herself, choking back the sobs ripping from her chest. Trying to shut the pain away where he couldn’t see it. He wished she’d just let go.

  He hunkered next to the tub, letting the shower run for another few minutes before he reached in to shut it off. The dripping of water and her hitching breaths filled the humid bathroom.

  She opened glassy, shadowed eyes to peer through the gap between the shower curtain and the wall, then flung the curtain aside to launch herself into his arms and hang on.

  Shit, shit, shit. He held her hard, trying to stop the trembling that shook her. Her fingers dug into his back, her wet torso soaking his T-shirt.

  “When will they stop?” she demanded in an agonized whisper.

  He stroked her dripping hair, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I don’t know, babe.” She let out a defeated sigh and sagged against him, silently conveying her trust.

  He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped her in it, hauling her out of the tub and onto his lap. “You scared the hell out of me back there. I thought you were going to stop breathing.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered unsteadily. “They’re not usually this bad.” She seemed to curl into herself.

  Given all that had happened that day, he wasn’t surprised she’d had another nightmare. He just hadn’t known it would be like this. “Want to tell me about it?”

  Her body went rigid in his arms. When she didn’t say a word, he pulled back and searched her face.

  “You know what happened.” The heat in her tone revealed her vulnerability.

  “That’s the whole problem. I don’t.” And he knew she needed to talk about it before she exploded.

  “Rayne, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He sighed and gave her a level look. “I know it’s tough, but how can I help you with this if I don’t know what you’re going through or what happened?”

  “Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to know what he did, what he said...” She battled more tears. “P-pass me my robe, please.”

  He grabbed it from behind the door and wrapped the thick terrycloth folds around her, held her a while longer. Eventually she pushed away, swaying upright and moving to sit on the closed toilet seat.

  Her spine straightened and her shoulders went back. “If you don’t mind, I need a minute to myself.”

  In other words, get out and leave me alone. Her body language shouted it at him. Christ, he hated it when she shut him out, but what the hell choice did he have? “Take your time.”

  He left, but stalked into the front room and raked a hand through his hair. Her physical and mental retreat filled him with something close to panic. He had the awful feeling that she was slipping away from him, and he was helpless to stop it.

  ****

  Despite the robe covering her, Christa couldn’t stop shivering. Rayne had been more than patient with her, and he did deserve to know more than she’d told him. It wasn’t just the attack, although God knew that was enough to make her panic all by itself. This new threat had scraped her raw.

  Filled with helpless anger, she made her way into the front room, where the fire still snapped in the hearth. Rayne was sitting on the sofa.

  “I made you some tea,” he said, his relaxed posture belying the tension between them. She felt as though she was about to face a firing squad.

  She gratefully accepted the hot mug, glad
she would have something to do with her hands, and paced about the room, avoiding his gaze. No point in dancing around the subject. “I’m not ready to talk about the attack yet,” she blurted. “So exactly what else do you want to know? The details of my last relationship? Why I’ve turned into a nutcase all of a sudden?” He didn’t react to her anger, merely sat there with that maddeningly calm expression on his face.

  “Whatever you’re ready to tell me. I’m listening.”

  She continued pacing, desperate to burn off the nervous energy. “Okay, how about I give you the Coles Notes version.” She prayed for strength. “Five years ago I was living in Tucson with my boyfriend of two years, and when I came home a day early from a softball road trip, I found him in bed with a friend of ours.” Hannah, the blonde engineering student with the double-D implants. “Well, as you can imagine, I’d had no idea he was cheating on me. After she left we got into a huge fight, and the long and the short of it was that he was sleeping with her and a bunch of other women because—how did he put it? I wasn’t ‘putting out’ enough,” she used her fingers as quotation marks, “and I wasn’t good enough in bed. He had needs, you know, and I wasn’t taking care of them properly.” The anger pulsed through her all over again. “I told him I might be more interested if he’d put more effort into our relationship from time to time, and things went downhill from there.”

  She kept going, couldn’t stop now that she’d started. “Truth is, I dreaded sex with him because I didn’t enjoy it, but according to him there was something wrong with me, because it couldn’t be his fault. Lots of other women loved having sex with him, so I must be the one with the problem. And he still expected me to ‘put out’ whenever he felt like it.” There, she’d said it. Lightning hadn’t struck her down where she stood. “So you do the math, Rayne. I hated sex for the two years I was having it, therefore I haven’t had any since.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand. “Bottom line, the first and only sexual relationship I’ve ever had was over five years ago, and it was awful.” She risked a glance at him, then into the flickering fire. “How can this ever work between us? I’m all closed up, and I don’t know if I can open that part of myself again. Compare my history to your infamous sexual exploits and you can see why I’m a walking cautionary tale. Even before what just happened with the...the...” She waved a hand.