by Cate Beauman
She almost succeeded. Only when she was bringing down the last stack of gifts did Ethan begin to climb the stairs. Sarah passed him without glancing in his direction.
She got in her car, turned the ignition over and drove off before he could reach the room and figure out it had been locked. When she was home she would pull into the garage, arm the security system Hunter and Ethan had installed years ago, and soak in a long bath. She wasn’t going to emerge from the fragrant bubbles until she could think straight again.
Sarah merged on Highway 1 and rolled down the window. The cool ocean breeze played with her hair. For the first time in several hours, her shoulders began to relax.
Within minutes, Ethan drove up beside her, rolled down his passenger side window. Her eyes met his in the reflection of a street lamp before she looked back at the road. The deep gray of his sparked with fury and her shoulders coiled tight. She’d seen him angry before, but this was a whole different level of pissed. As Nicolette’s words played like a mantra through her mind, she lifted her chin, rolled up her window, pressed her accelerator to the floor. A smile touched her lips when she pulled ahead, leaving Ethan in her dust. Ethan Cooke could go to Hell.
CHAPTER 4
ETHAN’S BLOOD ALL BUT BOILED by the time he pulled into Sarah’s drive. He would’ve been there twenty minutes before if he hadn’t gotten stuck behind a caravan of tractor trailers.
He pressed send on his cell phone—again— listening to Sarah’s line ring and go to voicemail. The lights blazed bright in her house, so she wasn’t in bed. Any fear that harm had come to her ended as he watched her silhouette pass one of the large picture windows in her living room.
Ethan got out of his Rover, slammed the door in frustration, walked up the lighted path to the entrance. He rang the bell. When she didn’t answer, he pounded. “Come on, Sarah, open the door.” The side of his fist hit glossy wood once more. “Screw this.”
It was time they talked. In the past twenty-four hours, Sarah had become a mystery. Their calm, steady friendship had all but vanished. He thought of the moment on the deck when he’d held her close, when their eyes had met and he’d fought the urge to kiss her. She’d tried to pull away, but not before he saw the flash of confused curiosity. Something had changed.
He took his phone from his pocket, dialed his office switchboard.
“Ethan Cooke Security, this is Mia.”
“Hey, Mia, this is Ethan Cooke. I need an override number for 555 Seacoast Drive, Pacific Palisades.”
“I’ll need your Identification number, Mr. Cooke.”
“884-echo-1-alpha-bravo.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cooke. Would you like me to override the system for you?”
“Yes, please.” The red light blinked twice before flashing green through the sheer curtain on Sarah’s front door.
“You should be all set, Mr. Cooke.”
“Yes, thank you. Re-arm the panel in thirty seconds, please.”
“Yes, Mr. Cooke.”
“Have a good night, Mia.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cooke.”
He hung up, slid his spare key in the door, walked into Sarah’s house. He waited for the double beep and blink of the red light on the panel before moving toward the sounds coming from the kitchen.
Ethan lost the train of his rant when he stopped in the doorway. The floral scent of Sarah surrounded him, knotting his stomach with desire. She moved about in a pale pink, spaghetti strapped nightshirt that skimmed the top of her firm thighs. Strands of hair escaped the loose bun piled high on her head. She hummed along with the radio as she placed a teabag in a mug and filled it.
Clearing his throat, Ethan stepped forward. Sarah whirled around with a muffled scream, and he caught her fist in his palm before it made contact with his face. The momentum sent him back a step, slamming him against the refrigerator. Sarah collided into his chest, and he grabbed her hips, steadying her.
“Jesus, Ethan, you scared me to death. What are you doing here?”
He moved his hands up, skimming her slim waist beneath soft, cotton fabric before he let her go. “We need to talk, and you wouldn’t answer your phone or the damn door.”
“I don’t want to talk. That’s why I didn’t answer my phone or the damn door.”
Silence filled the room as mutinous eyes stared into his. Her cheeks were flushed with rare temper, and he wanted her. He ground his teeth, turned away, fiddled with a chunky letter ‘A’ on the refrigerator.
With a miffed huff, Sarah stormed off toward her bedroom.
Ethan shut his eyes, rested his forehead against the cool white of the new appliance. What was he doing? When he heard her footsteps heading back in his direction, he turned.
She was tying the pale blue robe she wore the night before. “How did you get in here anyway? I locked the door and armed my system.”
“It helps when you have a key and own the security company protecting you. I called and had your system deactivated until I got inside.” Choosing to embellish his story, he continued, “Since you wouldn’t respond to any of my attempts, I figured you might be in trouble.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s pathetic, Ethan. You knew I was perfectly fine.”
“No, I didn’t. You haven’t been fine for the last two days. One minute you’re happy, the next you’re sad. Then you’re hugging me, and the next you’re angry. I can’t keep up.”
“I’m allowed to be off on occasion. You don’t get to own the title of ‘Brood King’.”
“See, like that. You’ve been taking pot shots at me all weekend. What the hell is up?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t.” She tried to push past him, but he moved to stand in her way. “Move, Ethan.”
“Not until we figure this out. In a matter of two days, everything’s changed. Somehow, something’s different between us, and I don’t like it.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? That’s why I want you to go away. I need to think. I can’t think when you won’t give me five blessed seconds.”
She started past him again, and he put his hands on her shoulders. “What do you—” His cell began to ring. “Son of a bitch.” He yanked the phone from his pocket as Sarah turned and gripped the edge of the countertop. “Ethan Cooke,” he snapped into the receiver.
“Ethan, where are you?”
“Nicky.” He closed his eyes. “This isn’t a good time.” He didn’t miss the hiss of breath Sarah blew out before she whirled and left the room. “Hold on,” he said. He swore under his breath when Sarah kept walking down the hall toward her bedroom.
“Okay,” Nicolette said.
“No, not you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Nicky, I’m going to have to call you back.”
“You keep me waiting and waiting, darling.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Maybe we should take a rain check for tonight.”
“Non, I will wait for you.”
He wasn’t interested in her waiting. “No, Nicky—” The phone beeped; she’d disconnected. “God fucking damn it.”
Ethan shoved the phone in his pocket and walked to Sarah’s bedroom. The room was dark but for two candles flickering in the windows. The French doors to her small outside sitting area were open to the salty breeze pouring in. He stepped on the polished, smooth stones of the patio, stared at the moon on its descent into morning.
“I thought you left,” Sarah said without any heat as she looked at the sky.
He didn’t say anything as she glided back and forth on the wicker swing. As she swung forward, the front of her robe lifted slightly, giving him a peek at smooth thigh. He let out a long sigh, determined to get them back on an even keel. “Are you going to bite my head off if I sit with you?”
She still hadn’t looked at him. “No.”
He sat next to her. They might as well have been strangers. The calm, easy feelings of friendship were absent. Tension built again when neither of them spoke. He didn’t know what to say. The distance between them wa
s so new, so strange; he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Perhaps that was where they needed to start. “Sarah, what’s happening here?” He waited so long for her answer, he thought she wouldn’t.
“I’ve asked myself the same question a thousand times, and I don’t know.” She looked at him then.
“I’m not leaving here until we do. You’re too important to me.”
A smile touched her lips, and he put his arm around her shoulders, needing to touch her.
They lapped into silence again.
“Do I depend on you too much when it comes to Kylee? I’ve had some time to think, and I wonder if I’ve been selfish. Kylee’s my daughter, my responsibility. I don’t ever want you thinking I don’t know that.”
Shocked, he sat up straight. “Where the hell is this coming from? I love her like crazy. When I help you with Kylee, it’s because I want to and enjoy doing so.”
He heard her small sigh and moved closer, looking her in the eye. “Is that what all of this about?”
“Some of it, yes.”
“Well, this isn’t so hard to fix after all.” Relaxing, he pulled her to him until her cheek rested against his shoulder. “I don’t ever want you thinking those bullshit thoughts again. We’ve been through too much together.”
She relaxed against him, and her foot began to rock the swing again. “You’ve always been here, so I never thought about it until Nicolette said…” Her eyes widened and she stopped, trying to pull away.
He tightened his arm around her, trapping her as his voice grew cold. “Until Nicolette said what?”
She moved to get up again, but he held her still. “It was nothing, Ethan. She saw us dancing on the deck and it upset her. I can’t blame her really…”
“What did she say, Sarah?”
“I don’t think she appreciated you dancing with Kylee or me tonight. That’s all.”
There was more to it, but he knew she wouldn’t say. “I don’t care what Nicolette appreciates.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “I don’t want to be the cause of problems between the two of you.”
As her exotic eyes pleaded with his, thoughts of Nicolette vanished. He became aware of her firm breasts pressed against his side, of her breath teasing his lips. He glanced at her full mouth, wanting to taste, needing to see if the feelings that had constantly disturbed and confused over the last several months meant anything.
Risking everything, he moved forward, never taking his eyes from hers as his mouth brushed hers. He saw a flash of surprise before it vanished into something else. When she didn’t push him away, he moved in again, adding more pressure. Sarah’s fingers curled into the shoulder of his shirt as her eyes closed and her lips parted. Slowly, gently, his tongue sought hers, gliding, tangling.
Ethan turned his body, pulling her closer, until they were thigh to thigh, until her breasts crushed against his chest. A quiet moan escaped her throat and a wave of need staggered him. He moved his hands to her cheeks, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it, and dove in again, wanting more of her surrender.
The wail of sirens barely registered as Sarah’s arms came around the back of his neck, and he nibbled her full bottom lip. With his hands still on her cheeks, he eased away slightly. His pulse pounded in time with hers as he skimmed his thumb over her jaw and stared into blue eyes gone electric.
So, this is what had changed. This is what they could bring each other. What he’d been feeling wasn’t all one-sided. Unable to help himself, Ethan took her lips again. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet taste. Tongues met once, twice, and their mouths grew hungry before he rested his forehead against hers. “Sarah—”
Several sirens wailed, flying past the house, stopping close by. The flash of lights reflected in the night sky. An ambulance came to a halt, and both stood.
“I-I wonder what’s going on?”
Ethan’s heart thundered, thinking of their kiss, and he asked himself the same thing. “I’m not sure.”
They walked down the hall, out the front door. Five houses down, the police and paramedics rushed around while an officer began blocking off the scene with yellow tape.
“My God, Ethan, that house is right next to Hailey’s. Someone just bought the place—moved in a couple of weeks ago—a woman. I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself yet. I hope she’s okay.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll make some calls and see what I can find out.”
Ten minutes later, he joined Sarah by the big picture window as the paramedics brought her neighbor out on a stretcher. The blonde woman, covered with a white blanket, cried. Her hand gripped a female officer’s as they put her in the back of the ambulance.
“That poor woman. I wonder what’s happened.”
“She was raped, Sarah.”
She grabbed his hand, clutching. “Oh, my God.”
“They’re saying the bastard went in through the back of the house. I’m not leaving you by yourself tonight. You’re coming with me, or I’m sleeping on your couch.”
Eyes huge, nodding, Sarah glanced from the window back to him. “Will you stay here?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me get some blankets and a pillow.”
As Sarah walked off, Ethan stared at the house surrounded by cruisers. It had been so close, too close. It could’ve been Sarah. What if he hadn’t come by?
“Here you go.”
He turned.
“You should be warm enough. If not, you know where I keep the extras.” She set the blankets and pillow on the couch cushion, took a step back, licked her lips. “Thanks for staying.”
He could still taste her. “You’re welcome. Go get some sleep.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”
He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. There was too much to think about. A lot had happened in the last half hour. “You’re safe. That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay. Good night.” Shy eyes met his, looked down, and she turned away.
As Sarah retreated, he wanted to call her back, to hold her once more, but he stopped himself. They both needed time to think about the unexpected turn their lives had just taken.
CHAPTER 5
SARAH TOSSED AND TURNED UNTIL dawn with so many things on her mind. Fear filled her as she thought of how close the rape had been to her house. Had she been letting herself into her own home when the rapist had been letting himself into her neighbor’s?
She shuddered at the thought.
Unable to lie in bed any longer, she sat up and glanced at her bedside table. Jake’s smile filled the photograph she kept close by. She picked up the brushed nickel frame, nibbled her lip as guilt consumed. Ethan had kissed her and she’d done nothing to stop him. What was I thinking? How could I do that to you, Jake? She skimmed her finger along her husband’s cheek before she put his picture back and stood.
Sarah walked to the window, touched the wedding rings she wore on a necklace. Her fingers tightened on the gold and diamonds as she thought of firm lips taking hers, of strong arms holding her close. Tears of shame filled her eyes, spilling over, when she realized the lips and arms she craved weren’t those of her husband’s.
She stepped back from the window, dashed at her cheeks. What was she going to do? How was she going to handle this?
The stereo, turned down low, played in the living room, and she knew Ethan didn’t sleep either. Letting out a deep breath, Sarah pulled on jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt before heading down the hall. She stopped in the doorway, watched Ethan, dressed in gray sweat shorts, complete a set of push-ups. He blew out fast puffs of breath as his triceps flexed and bunched with the up and down motion. When he finished, he pushed himself up to standing with an efficient hop and met her gaze. Sweat dribbled down his sculpted pectorals to the darkened waistband slung low on his muscled hips.
Had she truly believed she was unaffected by his looks? She had seen him without his shirt before—several times—but as her gaze tr
aveled up sculpted abs, over broad shoulders and stopped on his lips, Sarah thought of the way his mouth had captured hers, and a swift kick of heat scorched her system.
She cleared her throat, willing the memory away. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Ethan picked up the glass of water on the coffee table, guzzled, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Did you sleep well?” Sarah gripped her fingers together until her knuckles whitened.
“No.” He glanced at her hands as he set the empty glass down.
“Oh.” She relaxed her grip, moving her arms to her sides. “Was the couch uncomfortable? Let me make you some coffee.” Having all she could take of the awkward small talk, Sarah started toward the kitchen.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” She turned, swiping a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Stop acting like that.” He clipped off each word.
His clenched jaw and rigid stance told her a storm brewed beneath his pretense of calm. “Like what?”
Before she could blink, Ethan stepped forward, taking her arms. “Like last night was a mistake.”
Nerves stretched thin and snapped. “It was!” Sarah closed her eyes as a flash of hurt moved through his, and he let her go.
She pressed her lips together, holding back tears as she met Ethan’s unreadable gaze. “What about Jake? We had no right, Ethan.”
“We had every right,” he erupted, spinning away and back again.
“He’s my husband.” She pressed unsteady fingers to her temple, trying to find a way to make him understand.
“I loved Jake like my brother, Sarah, but he’s gone. You have a right to move on, to be happy.”
“I was happy with the way things were. You shouldn’t’ve kissed me.”
His hand snaked out, grabbed her arm, pulled her against him. “You kissed me right back, Sarah. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything.” The intensity of his stare dared her to deny the truth.
Her heart pounded as she put her palms to his sweaty chest, desperately fighting the need to press her mouth to his. “Ethan, please.”