Captured by Moonlight

by Nancy Gideon

  “They did more than beat and rape me, Max. They…did worse things.” She swallowed hard, unable to bring that horror out from where she’d locked it away so far down inside her. His arms cinched tight around her, snatching her up to him as if he could crush out the memory. From the protectiveness of his shoulder, she continued, “They told me at the hospital. Too much bleeding, too much trauma, too much damage. My father…my father was devastated, knowing that everything he was would end with me. Of course, he never came out and said that. He never said anything. And neither did I, to anyone. I didn’t think it would matter, because I never wanted any man to touch me again. Until you, Max. And then I convinced myself that I could be everything you needed, because you were everything I wanted. But I’m not. And there’s nothing I can do to change that.” She shoved back and began to walk away.

  He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him, his expression dark.

  “So what do you expect? For me to toss you away, to say you’re of no use to me now? Just because your father did? For the love of God, Charlotte, how could you think so?”

  “I don’t want your pity or your sense of obligation,” she told him gruffly. “I don’t want you to stay with me because you’re so damned noble. You can walk away, Max. I won’t blame you for it.”

  Rare fury radiated from him like a furnace blast. “And just who would you blame, then? Yourself? Oh, that’s right. That makes sense. You’re to blame for what those bastards did to you, and it’s fine that I should just stop loving you because now you’re somehow imperfect and unlovable.”

  She said nothing, her eyes wide and luminescent. Tears made glittering trails down her pale cheeks.

  Max’s voice gentled. “You’ve looked upon the horror of what I am and called me magnificent. You’ve held me in your arms and wept over my pain. You’ve thrown yourself into mortal danger at my side. You’ve loved me until I’m weak-minded with gratitude. You gave yourself to me when you knew what it would cost you professionally and personally.

  “How could you seriously think I would walk away from you? You are all I’ve ever wanted. You are all I’ll ever want or need, in this life or the next. Do not insult me again by suggesting that I don’t know how lucky I am to have you love me.”

  She remained silent for a long moment, her lips quivering. Then she said hoarsely, “Let’s go home.”

  Giles drove them back to the house, saying nothing as he watched in the rearview mirror the woman he so admired quaking with silent weeping.

  Max simply held her. She needed him strong and comforting and unwincingly certain. And he was those things for her, lying with her cradled to his chest in his bed, both of them still dressed, tenderly kissing her brow and her damp cheeks. When exhaustion finally claimed her, he slipped away and wandered out the front door aimlessly until his knees gave way, dropping him down hard on the porch steps.

  They did worse things.

  Horror surged up through his numbness. His mind went mad with imagining. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t drag air past the sickness clogging his throat. He lowered his head between his knees, swaying, rocking, struggling to keep the awful grief and anguish from howling out of him.

  Worse things . . .

  The pungent scent of tobacco curled about the edges of his misery. Then he heard the flat calm of Giles’s voice.

  “Nice night.”

  Sitting there in the darkness, close to weeping, his eviscerated guts figuratively strewn at his feet, his chest a huge, gaping void where his heart had been, Max couldn’t speak.

  Giles puffed on his cigarette and asked mildly, “What did you do to make that brave little girl cry?” The you son of a bitch was unspoken but clear.

  “I failed her, Giles,” he whispered hoarsely. “She needed me and I just walked away. She’s blaming herself for my weakness, and I can’t make it right. I can’t take it back.”

  It came spilling out of him then. He’d been just twenty, blinded by his obedient loyalty to Jimmy Legere. He’d stumbled across two seventeen-year-old girls in the hands of cruel men ordered to hold them captive—but they did worse things. He saw them and did nothing. He’d walked away. And for hours, hours, he’d wrestled with a suddenly awakened conscience. The one girl’s fright and desperate pleas clutched at it, tearing away the veil of his indifference. But the other girl, who spat a wad of blood and contempt at her abuser, had shocked his heart into a frantic beat. And he’d shaken off twenty years of caution and security to rescue them.

  “By the time I went back for them, it was too late. I’ll never have a family with Charlotte. They stole that from us—ripped it out of her while I was trying to make up my mind. Hours, Giles. Hours with them. I can’t ever give that time back to her.”

  Silence, just the smell of smoke. And then Giles’s snort. “You’ve got the most amazing ego, Max. You just have to take credit for every damned thing, don’t you?”

  Max turned his head slowly, his eyes glittering. “’Cuse me?”

  “Exactly. Give yourself a freaking break. You were just a kid, minding your own business while these deviant sons of whores were doing their worst to these girls who were nothing to you, had nothing to do with you. You decided to risk your life playing hero, going against everything you were raised to believe in, to save complete strangers—and yet their trouble was somehow your fault? You’re the one who should be punished for stepping between evil men and two innocent girls?

  “I’m sure that’s just what Charlotte thinks every time she remembers you carrying her from that warehouse: damn that son of a bitch for deciding my life was more important than his. How could he be so selfish?

  “Boss man, sometimes you are an incredibly arrogant fool. Eat my eyes if you want, but that’s the truth. Choke it down.”

  “She can’t have children, Giles.” His sorrow made the words raw. “I can’t give her children.”

  “But you’ve got each other.” Giles shrugged his huge shoulders. “Lots of women can give you children, Max. But how many will give you what she does?” He snubbed out his cigarette. “Was I you, I’d be upstairs loving her bowlegged, instead sitting down here sharing all these touchy-feelies with some fella. But what do I know?”

  Max studied him for a long moment, the words slowly sinking in. Finally, he smiled. “Good night, Giles.”

  “’Nite, Max.”

  THE SOFT BRUSH of his lips across her eyelids made her smile. Then his mouth was on that curve, tempting her from the glum shadows of sleep. A contented sound purred up through her as she kept her eyes shut and let him woo her. He was so good at it.

  He trailed light kisses down her neck, down to the curve of her breasts, his tongue sliding over to disappear into her cleavage. His hand rested on her abdomen, its heat burning through the thin fabric of her top.

  “You’ll be more comfortable without this, sha.” He lifted her to peel off her sweater and tank top. His mouth pressed above her left breast, tasting the hurried flutter of her heartbeat. She reached for him to keep her balance, her palms sliding over bare shoulders. He’d already undressed and was sleekly, invitingly naked.

  “You are the most beautiful, exciting, desirable woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, his voice low, seducing poetry. “I will want you madly, desperately, every day of the rest of my life.”

  She clutched at his dark head as he circled her nipple with his tongue, then blew lightly so it tightened into a hard, achy peak. Moaning in objection when he shifted his attention to her shoulder, arching as he licked along her collarbone, chaining kisses around her throat, then pausing when he reached the scars in her flesh. Then he kissed her there, too, very, very gently.

  “The courage it took to give yourself to me drops me right to my knees. Thank you, sha. You’re mine now. You belong to me. We belong to each other, only to each other, for the rest of our lives.”

  This was what she’d wanted to hear from him when she awoke to find him gone. Relief warred with resistance. “But I didn’t tell you, Max.�
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  He claimed her gaze tenderly. “Tell me what? You couldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I knew the first time I saw you that you were the one for me.”

  She touched his cheek. “But that wasn’t real, Max. That was a fantasy. You didn’t know me; you knew nothing about me. You were in love with an idea that would keep you from being so alone.”

  He smiled. “You’re so wrong. I did know you. I saw right to the soul of you with that first glance. I saw a spirit passionate enough to love someone like me, one strong enough not to fear what I was. I knew everything about you from that single moment, and I’ve never wanted to look away again.

  “I’m not fickle, Charlotte. When I give my loyalty, it’s with every bone in my body. When I give my heart, it’s to the very last drop of my blood. I will never leave you, or stop loving you. I simply can’t do it. What you are is everything to me. You put your mark on my heart long before I put mine on your body.”

  She leaned forward to take his mouth in a slow, searing kiss. Then she said, “I seem to still have some clothes on. I expect you to do something about that right away, because I want you, Savoie. Right now. Quite desperately.”

  She toppled him onto his back, her mouth on his ravenously. Her hands fisted in his hair, prowled his shoulders, combed over his chest, insistent, possessive.

  His attention torn between her kiss and the difficult buckle on her belt, Max finally rolled her off him.

  “There’s less security at the Treasury,” he grumbled. He jerked the belt free with a grunt of triumph, then swatted her bottom. “Lift.” She did so and he wiggled the denim over her appealing curves and down those long legs. He pitched the shirt, then picked up one of her feet. “These are some seriously sexy shoes.”

  “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about your mildly disturbing interest in my footwear.” She poked his bare backside with the stiletto heel on her other foot.

  He grinned at her. “I don’t want to wear them. I just like the way they look on you. The way they hold your scent and your heat. And I like to take them off you,” he said, slipping them free, “so I can start at the very intriguing bottom of you and work my way up every other equally delightful inch.”

  He licked her toes, rubbing her arch with his thumbs until she groaned at the luxury of it. His focus moved to her calves, kneading them while he watched enjoyment relax her features.

  “Strong, beautiful legs,” he murmured. “Sexy knees.” He kissed them as his palms went higher. “You could probably crack a man’s rib cage with these thighs, couldn’t you?”

  She smiled. “Or I could just wrap you up in them and trap you until I’m done with you.”

  “Ooh, yes. And then there’s this tasty piece of you.” His fingers played over her, slipping into her. “I could lose myself here for a day or two.”

  “You make it sound like you’re exploring Mammoth Cave,” she grumbled as her hips lifted, rocking into his touch.

  His grin flashed at that while his eyes smoldered. “Oh, no. No tourist attraction here. This is my own private playground.”

  “Stop talking, will you?” she panted, then moaned as he gave her a hard, sucking kiss.

  His voice grew quiet. “You’ll let me know if you’re in any discomfort after last night.”

  She pushed against him impatiently in answer.

  “Then I’ll test the waters, so to speak.” When he dipped in to do just that, her first climax slammed through her. He took his time until she was wet and trembling, then said, “Speaking of natural wonders, I’d like that Grand Canyon tour again. Do I need to purchase a ticket for that?”

  Her glassy eyes refocused and she returned his sly smile. “No, you just need to hang on.” She flipped him and settled atop him, sinking over him with a long, glorious shiver, stealing the breath from both of them.

  His hands came up to rest on her waist. “Nice to have you back in the saddle, detective.”

  “I plan to ride you hard, Savoie.”

  And she did with fierce concentration, in a race to prove something to herself. She reached it with a strangled sob of relief, then let him roll her limp body over so he could take control.

  “Charlotte, look at me. You are mine—now and forever.”

  He began to move in a slow, strong rhythm, his fingers laced through hers, pressing them into the mattress. His gaze was riveted to hers, watching her eyes mist.

  “Max, promise me you’ll never regret this. Make me believe it.”

  “I will.” And he did.

  Eighteen

  NO. PLEASE. DON’T leave me. Please, don’t leave me here alone. Please, don’t leave me. Please!

  She woke with a gasp, tendrils of the dream still tugging her back toward them. So strange, because she never remembered them. Except for one.

  “Everything all right, cher?”

  She turned to Max, and all other thoughts scattered.

  The first rays of morning slanted across his wonderfully rough and rumpled features. His black hair stood in spiky clumps. Heavy-eyed, stubble-cheeked, his mouth sleep-softened and irresistible, he was her every waking dream.

  “Now it is.”

  He grinned.

  “You’re looking rather pleased with yourself,” she said. Her fingers meshed with his.

  “I’m feeling rather pleased with myself. How ’boutchu, sha?”

  She smiled and snuggled into him. “I’m feeling rather pleased with you, too.” She wanted to linger for a few more minutes but, aware of the clock, she finally rolled out of bed with a sigh. “I’ve got to shower and go.”

  She didn’t dare look back; imagining him there in the sheets, all sleek and hard, was bad enough. Snatching up some clothes, she decided a cold shower was what she needed.

  He joined her under the spray, heating her up faster than the pelting water could cool it. He pressed her back against the slippery tiles, pinning her there with the force of his greedy plundering mouth. She grabbed at his wet hair and clung to the rock-hard slickness of his shoulders as desire surged, demanding to be satisfied.

  He obeyed without hesitation, lifting her, filling her, pounding into her, rushing them both to a knee-weakening climax.

  Unbalanced by Max’s slack weight, Cee Cee slipped and went down, her bare flanks squeegeeing the tiles, landing with a jarring shock to the spine on the floor of the tub. Pulled down with her, Max cursed as his knees hit bottom but made no effort to move.

  “Do you suppose this is how most fatal accidents happen in the home?” he chuckled.

  “That’s the way I want to go,” she murmured contentedly. “You’ll see to it for me, won’t you, Savoie?”

  “My pleasure, detective.”

  It took some cautious maneuvering to regain their footing. Since it involved some intimate handholds on each other, though, neither complained. As Max worked up luxurious suds over her most likely to be bruised posterior, Cee Cee sighed.

  “I wish you had one of those big, old claw-footed tubs we could splash around in, then just soak until we turned all wrinkly.”

  “Charlotte, darlin’, exciting images of you all wet and pruny will not get you to work on time.” He turned her under the showerhead even as he kissed her, letting the soap and scent of well-enjoyed sex go down the drain. Then she was wiggling away, scrambling out of the shower, buffing herself dry as quickly as possible while he leisurely lathered up. She managed to be almost completely dressed by the time he emerged.

  “What were you dreaming about this morning, Charlotte?” he asked as he dried off.

  She shivered as the memory returned. “It was very strange and so real, I could smell the swamp, could feel its chill all the way to the bone. And I was so afraid. There was someone with me, a woman. I knew her, but it wasn’t someone I recognized. I felt so small, so helpless and…Max?”

  His face had gone pale.

  “Baby, what is it?”

  “And there was a big tree, with roots knuckling up all around it?”
/>   “How did you know that?”

  “Because it’s my dream.”

  She stared into his eyes, into those windows to his past, and she knew the woman in the dream was his mother. The horrible, roiling fear she’d brought back to the surface of consciousness with her was real. It was his fear. His memories.

  She embraced him, hugging his dark head to her shoulder, while she wondered how this sharing of consciousness was possible. Was this the power of the bond between them, this opening of the psyche? Her intensely private nature rebelled against the intrusion, even as her tender heart cherished the idea of such intimacy. How would fiercely guarded Max view her unintentional invasion?

  “So, how does it work, this thing between us?”

  “I don’t know. When a human male mates with one of our females, there’s nothing unusual about it. Between our kind there’s just a stronger glimmer, a special sharing of awareness. I’ve never heard of an exchange of thoughts or communication or anything like that. But then, I’ve never heard of a bonding between one of our males and a human female.”

  “And there’s one other thing we have to take into account,” she said. “There’s never been another like you.”

  “Yeah. There’s that.” He frowned a little, then moved away to dress with a quick efficiency in jeans and her chopped-sleeve NOPD sweatshirt. Then he turned back to her.

  “We don’t talk of this with anyone else. No questions, no hypothesizing. Not with anyone. Agreed?”

  Her look matched his for severity. “Agreed.”

  “We keep this strictly between the two of us until we figure it out ourselves.”

  “I understand.”

  She realized the danger as well as he did. How much more valuable would such intriguing knowledge make this man she loved, to those who would take him from her if they could?

  “Can I ride into the city with you?”

  Alerted by the tension in his voice, Cee Cee asked warily, “What are you up to?”

  He snatched a quick taste of her lips. “Some undercover work. I have to find these men who’ve been asking questions. I want to get a look at what we’re up against.”