by Maggie Price
“Look at me,” he said when her eyes fluttered shut. “I want you to know it’s me you’re with. Just me.”
“Yes.” The shadows around them seemed to shift while his fingers stroked. Sensation slid over sensation, building inside her in trembling, shuddering layers, then exploded. Her vision grayed; a half sob tore from her lips.
Strength gone, her hands slipped from his shoulders. She lay motionless, sweat slicking her flesh, air clogging in her lungs, her heartbeat stumbling.
“I could eat you alive,” he murmured.
“I could…let you.”
He mounted her, crushing his mouth to hers as he thrust himself into her.
A sob of pure, overwhelming pleasure eased up her throat. Her body opened to his, joined with his. Arching, she brought him deeper inside her as if she’d never known a man before. Her hips moved in desperate, greedy time with his, urging him on.
In that fleeting moment before they plunged together into the roaring dark, Nicole understood there would never be room for another man in her mind, in her heart. Jake was the one. The only one.
He’d taken her like a fiend. That was all Jake could think as he lay beside her on the cool tiles while he struggled to clear his fevered brain. Never before had he lost control so totally with a woman. Never before had he been so greedy, so desperate.
When his breathing steadied, he found the strength to turn his head. Nicole lay on her side, her eyes closed, her head pillowed against his shoulder, one of her arms flung across his chest. In the dim light, her skin glowed like warm honey.
Reaching out, he stroked a palm down the length of the exquisite curves and hollows that had driven him mad all night and day.
“I attacked you,” he said quietly, remorse a hot weight in his belly.
“Hmm.” She kept her eyes closed, thick blond lashes fanning her cheeks as she drew in what sounded like a contented breath. “We attacked each other.”
Thinking back to the number of times she’d nearly made him wreck the cruiser on the drive there, he had to agree. Still, that didn’t excuse the fact he’d treated her with so little care.
“Nicole, I was too rough. Careless. I didn’t mean to be, but I was. You have a right to be upset.”
Her eyes drifted open, their blue depths studying his face as her hand slid up his chest to cup his jaw. “The only reason I’d be upset was if we hadn’t made it into the house before we got naked.” She glanced down at the shoes and socks she still wore. “Well, almost naked.”
He couldn’t help grinning at the thought. “Yeah, the neighbors would have loved that.”
She raised her head off his shoulder, one blond brow arched. “So, Sergeant Ford, how many traffic laws did you break getting us here?”
“Including those two red lights I dodged?”
“Including.”
He stroked his knuckles along the swell of her breast. “I’d say about thirty, give or take.”
“Is that some kind of cop record?”
“For me it is.”
A swell of emotion he couldn’t name had him sitting up abruptly, gathering her with him. Somehow, despite all his inner protests and misgivings, he’d made a right move and wound up here with Nicole in his arms.
He used his fingertips to nudge back wispy strands of golden hair that had pulled loose from her long braid. “I’m glad you’re here. Glad you’re with me.”
“Me, too.” She caught his lower lip between her teeth. “I like your entry hall,” she murmured against his mouth.
Inside him, a deep, dark wanting began to smolder. “Thanks. I’ve never seen it from this angle before.”
“I’d like a tour of your whole house.”
He thought about his kitchen with its sink filled with dishes and foam take-out containers overflowing the trash can. “You might want to hold off seeing the kitchen. I’m renting a backhoe next week to shovel it out.”
“Okay, the kitchen can wait.” She linked her arms around his neck and gave him a wicked smile. “What I’m really interested in is your bedroom. Is it first or last on the tour?”
The weak light coming from the living room cast their separate silhouettes onto the wall. When she leaned and traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue, the two gray shadows molded into one.
One was all he could think as lust slashed through his gut. There, on his entry hall floor, he and Nicole had become one.
“The bedroom’s first.” He rose, swept her up into his arms. “And the tour starts now.”
Nicole woke just after dawn feeling achy and sated…and totally decadent from having spent most of the night being ravished. Stretching like a contented cat, she shoved her tangled hair out of her face. Her mouth curved with the memory of Jake loosening her braid, working a brush through the long, thick strands, then wrapping his fingers through her hair while he eased himself into her wet depths.
Since the moment she’d seen him at Bill and Whitney’s wedding, she had told herself Jake Ford wasn’t what she wanted. Spent hours trying to convince herself he was far from her perfect match. That might be true, she conceded. Maybe last night she’d taken such a big leap she couldn’t possibly land on her feet. She didn’t know. All she knew was that she and Jake had shared more than passion during the hours they’d spent together. There were feelings involved, too. Feelings that both of them had tried to ignore. Still, they were there. How deep they went, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that they existed, could no longer be denied.
Turning her head on the pillow, she gazed through the weak dawn light. Jake lay asleep on his side, his face half turned toward her. His jet-black hair was a rumpled mess, lashes as dark as night shadowed cheeks heavy with stubble. His mouth was slightly open, his lips relaxed.
Thoughts of how that mouth had destroyed her control sent a shudder of pure longing through her. Easing out a trembling breath, she had all she could do to keep from reaching out and running her palm over his chest, then lower…
Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, she slid out of bed. She was still groping for answers to how two people who’d been determined to stay apart had wound up together. Answers she knew would only get clouded in the throes of passion. She needed time…and space to do some calm, cool thinking.
At one point during the night, when they’d taken a breather from mauling each other, Jake had gone out to his car and retrieved her leather tote. He’d piled it and the clothes they’d flung around the entry hall onto the top of his bureau. Nicole plucked her hopelessly wrinkled white shirt out of the pile, pulled it on, then padded barefoot down the hallway.
She opened a door that she thought might be to the bathroom, and instantly recognized her mistake. Pale light eased through lacy curtains; two white cribs with pink gingham coverlets edged one wall. A large snowy dresser with crystal knobs stood to her right; on her left were shelves filled with a menagerie of stuffed animals and dolls.
Throat dry, Nicole stood motionless, fingers gripping the doorknob as she breathed in a faint, sweet scent. She could not begin to imagine the grief and sorrow Jake had experienced when he lost his wife and daughters. Couldn’t comprehend how a person survived that kind of devastation.
She knew she should step out, pull the door closed. In the end, it was the charming framed prints from fairy tales that pulled her deeper into the room. Sleeping Beauty being kissed by her prince. Snow White surrounded by the adoring dwarfs. Still others from stories Nicole had read as a child, stories she’d dreamed of someday reading to her own children.
When she found herself standing over one of the cribs, she leaned, smoothed a hand across the soft gingham. A fuzzy pink stuffed rabbit sat in one corner of the crib, staring out at her with eyes as blue as a calm sea. She ran a finger down the pink, fuzzy ear that flopped to one side.
“The rabbit was Jeanie’s favorite. Jamie took a liking to a black bear.”
Jake’s voice, coming just inches away, had Nicole jumping. Her heart lodged in her throat, she turne
d.
“I’m sorry for intruding. I was looking for the bathroom and came in here by mistake.”
He’d pulled on a pair of gym shorts, but no shirt. His hair was rumpled as if he’d finger-combed it; his chin looked even more stubbled than it had while he’d slept. It was the hardness in his eyes that told her something more was wrong than him just finding her in this room.
“I told you about the other case I’m on,” he said quietly as he stepped to the crib. “The little boy who got killed by a drive-by shooter.”
“Yes.” She watched him lift the pink rabbit, cup it in his palm as if priceless. “You said he died just because he was standing on a street corner the shooter considered his.”
“Right.” Jake stared at the rabbit. “When we got to the scene, Enrique Quintero had a bullet in his chest and a toy fire engine clutched in one grimy fist. His mother said Enrique loved that fire engine. I got the idea she took comfort in the fact he’d had it with him when he died.”
“Oh, God.”
“That homicide happened three weeks ago.” Jake replaced the rabbit in its cozy corner, let his hand linger for an extra moment. “Every so often I think I have things under control. Then something like that kid’s fire engine jumps up and grabs me by the throat. When I got home that night, I came in here, spent an hour trying to figure out which of the twins’ toys Annie had packed for their trip. I needed to make sure my girls had something they loved to hold on to when they died.”
“Jake…” Tears welled in Nicole’s eyes. Her heart was bleeding for him, she could feel it. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
He shifted minutely so that she had no choice but to drop her hand. “So am I.”
“I can’t imagine having to go through something like that.”
“I don’t wish it on anybody.” As he slicked his knuckles down her cheek, she watched his face, saw his jaw harden. “And I can’t imagine having to go through it twice in one lifetime.” He closed his eyes, opened them. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I just now realized I made a big mistake last night.”
A chill snaked up her spine. “A mistake…”
“I can’t do this again. I thought I could push everything back. Thought I could let myself take a risk. Then I saw you leaning over the crib just like Annie used to. It was like someone stabbed a hot knife in my gut.”
She saw the change in his eyes, a subtle but distinct distancing even as he took her hand. “I can’t do this again,” he repeated softly. “I can’t ever do this again.”
Panic had her tightening her hand on his. “I understand how you must feel—”
“Do you?” he asked evenly. “Do you know what it’s like to lose your whole life in one second? Do you know how it feels to hurt so bad you don’t want to take the next breath? How the only way to stop from putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger is to crawl into the bottom of a bottle?”
“No, I don’t know what any of that’s like.” Her lungs were burning, and the sensation was rapidly moving toward her heart. “You must have good memories of your family, Jake.”
“I do.” His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist before he eased his hand from hers. “And I took everything for granted. I didn’t appreciate the fact that when I got up every morning, Annie had my coffee ready. It was always just there. I assumed I’d spend the rest of my life reaching for her in the night. I believed that, since I saw Jamie and Jeanie each get their first tooth, I’d see the rest come in, too.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Those are all good memories, Nicole. They’re also the ones that eat you alive and send you to the darkest crevices of hell. I dragged myself out of that pit once. I don’t have what it takes to do it again.”
All the joy that had shimmered in her heart throughout the night turned to ashes, cold and gray. “So, because some terrible thing could happen to me in the future, you’re telling me you don’t want what we might have together, for as long as we might have it. You’re turning your back on us.”
“There can’t be an us. I don’t want there to be an us.” His eyes narrowed. “It’d be best if we both back off. Forget last night happened.”
“Forget?” She spoke quietly, clinging to the slippery edge of control.
He muttered a ragged oath, yet his eyes remained cool. Passionless. “You told me you learned the hard way what kind of man suits you. That I’m not him.”
Her eyes filled, and she fought back the tears. Her chest ached. There was such a terrible pressure there that she rubbed the heel of her palm against it. Could there have been a worse possible time, she wondered, for her to realize she was in love with him?
“You’re right, Jake, from the minute we met I knew you weren’t the type of man who suits me.” Every word she spoke hurt her throat. “But the attraction was so strong. Too strong.” With an unsteady hand she jabbed her hair away from her cheek. “When I met Cole, I got swept away by emotion, and I paid dearly. Oh, my pain was nowhere near what you’ve suffered, but I hurt all the same. Even so, I was willing to let you into my life. Willing to risk my heart for you.” Her voice broke, but she managed to shore it up again. “I just wish you’d told me up front that all you were interested in was a one-night stand.”
He took a quick step forward, locked his hands on her arms. “Dammit, it was a hell of a lot more than that.” His eyes weren’t cool now, but dark and angry as he gave her a shake. “You know that.”
“For me, it was.” She jerked away, took an unsteady step backward. Then another. Foremost in her mind was the need to get away from him. She clenched her teeth when she remembered they’d left her Jaguar parked at her office building.
“I’ll get dressed and call a cab.”
“I’m taking you to get your car.”
“No.”
“Nicole—”
“No!” Her chin angled like a sword when he took a step toward her. “I can’t decide how you’ll live your life, Jake. I can’t tell you that you can trust me to stay with you by promising nothing terrible will ever happen to me. You’ve chosen not to take that risk.”
Hands fisted, she dragged in a ragged breath. “I choose to leave here in a cab. You want me to back off, get out of your life. Forget. Fine, that’s what I’ll do.”
Hands trembling, Nicole paid the cab driver, unlocked the Jaguar and slid behind the wheel. Her breath was shallow and hot, the pain sweeping through her vicious. Jake had been determined to push her away and she’d been powerless to stop him. She had the clawing, agonizing feeling that she would spend the rest of her life wondering what they had lost in that pink-and-white bedroom.
Still, she had her pride. He’d rejected her. If it burned a hole in her, she would fill the empty, throbbing space in her heart. She had her work. Her family. She didn’t need Jake Ford.
The ringing of her cell phone had her closing her eyes. She didn’t think he would dare call. Not after he’d just broken her heart. A heart that still loved him in spite of it.
Swallowing around what felt like shards of glass in her throat, she grabbed the phone from her tote, clicked it on.
“Hello?”
“Nicole? I…my dear God.”
“Mel?” The shaky panic in her assistant’s voice had her fingers tightening on the phone. “What’s wrong, Mel?”
“It’s Mother.”
“Has Edna taken a turn for the worse?”
“She’s dead, Nicole.” His voice broke on a sob. “I woke up this morning and…found her dead.”
Chapter 12
“Enjoy your cell, scum sucker.”
Amid a flurry of curses, Jake shoved Ramon Cárdenas into the hands of a burly jailer. It had taken two nights of intense tracking, but Jake’s snitch had finally come through with the whereabouts of Cárdenas’s girlfriend. After dealing herself out of a murder charge, she’d sung like a diva about how she’d witnessed her boyfriend gun down little Enrique Quintero.
Case closed, Jake thought as he walked out of
the jail. He passed a small, dim alcove where a receptionist’s desk sat empty. Rays of morning sunlight threaded through the window behind the desk.
A scowl settled over his face as he turned down the hallway that led to the Homicide office. At this point, he should be feeling the rush, the lift that always came at the end of a hunt. Even bringing down Cárdenas didn’t ease his frustration. Work had always been a salve, a way to keep his mind focused, push away unwanted thoughts. That wasn’t the case this time, which he’d proved after spending the past days and nights brooding over Nicole.
She’d given him exactly what he’d asked for. She’d backed off. Walked out of his life. Hell, she’d probably already forgotten about the night they’d spent together. According to Whitney, Nicole hadn’t been sitting around brooding. Mel Hall’s mother had died from complications of the diabetes that had rendered her a near invalid. Nicole had handled funeral arrangements for her distraught assistant, stayed almost continuously at his side. With all that on her plate, Jake figured he’d spent a lot more time thinking about her than she had about him.
That last thought irritating him enormously, he swung past the report clerk’s office where several night shift typists wearing earpieces entered data into computers. Had he really thought he could shove the woman he’d been close to falling in love with out of his life and not think about her? Not wonder if he’d made a huge mistake that he’d pay for until the day he died?
Blowing out a breath, he assured himself that questioning what he’d done was normal. Expected. Putting the brakes on a relationship that had nowhere to go had been the best thing for both of them. As his brisk footsteps echoed off the hallway tiles, he refused to hear the mocking voice inside his head that called him a liar—and a coward.
He needed sleep, he told himself, swiping a hand over his gritty eyes. Everything around him seemed a half beat out of sync because he’d snagged only minimal sack time over the past seventy-two hours. He planned to go home and crawl into bed after he finished the follow-up reports on Cárdenas’s arrest, but that was a couple of hours down the road. Until then, he would rely on caffeine to keep him going. As he turned a corner, Jake glanced at his watch, saw it was nearly eight. If his luck held, one of the day crew would have already hit the office and brewed a fresh pot of coffee.