CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

by Nina Bruhns

  Yeah, right. Like there was an ice cube's chance of that. Out of sorts, she dropped off the bottles in the kitchen and considered making hot chocolate, but just wasn't in the mood. She was too damned confused again.

  Up until this morning, it was she who'd insisted he keep his distance, and now, when he finally did, she felt bereft.

  She'd wanted him to kiss her just now. Like crazy. She missed the hot enticements he'd always pressed on her, until today. And she wanted to kiss him back, to feel his body aroused against her. With all her heart she wanted to make love to him. Just one more time. Lord, she needed him.

  But he no longer wanted her. All day he'd avoided any real contact at all. She had finally rejected him one too many times, killing any feelings he might have had for her. Forlorn, she went to her room, showered and got ready for bed.

  For ages she stared at the gray shadows on the walls, unable to sleep. When she heard a soft noise out on the gallery, she got up and walked quietly to the French doors.

  The warm, sultry air softly vibrated with the night songs of the river. Fireflies sprinkled fairy dust in circles over the dark, fragrant meadow below.

  Beau stood with his elbows on the gallery railing, gazing out over the moonlit grounds. She smiled wistfully. He wore the bottom half of the pajama top she had on. Two parts cut from the same cloth, meant to be together.

  Without making a conscious decision, she crossed the ancient boards and slipped her arms around his waist.

  He turned within the circle of her arms and leaned his back against the rail, brushing a fallen lock of her hair behind her ear. "What are you doing up so late, darlin'?"

  She rubbed her cheek against him, wishing he would put his arms around her and hold her tight. "Couldn't sleep."

  "Thinking about finding Remi?"

  "No." She paused. "What about you?"

  He rested his arms over her shoulders, toying with the ends of her hair. "Couldn't sleep, either."

  She put her lips to the bare skin of his chest and kissed him lightly once, twice. He smelled of soap and man, and she wanted to lose herself in his hard body. "Maybe we could not sleep together," she said softly, then looked up.

  He met her steady gaze, his fingertips massaging the base of her neck. "That statement's a little ambiguous."

  Reaching up, she pressed her mouth to his. The taste of him made her dizzy and she wondered why it had taken her so long to admit how very much she loved him. After a small hesitation, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. She melted into him, letting her tongue dance with his, passion flowing like honey between them.

  They came up for air long, long moments later, and she stepped back out of his embrace, tracing his broad chest with her fingers. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, but made no move to touch her.

  One by one, she undid the buttons of her top.

  "Chère…"

  She let the top slide down her arms to the gallery floor. "Still ambiguous?"

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  « ^ »

  Kit could see Beau swallow heavily, his gaze drifting slowly down her naked body.

  "I won't settle for just one night, Kit," he said, low and rough. "Honest to God, I won't. I'm gonna make you throw away that Novocain and admit you want to be with me. Really be with me. Are you willing to do that?"

  It was her turn to swallow. "I'm so scared."

  "I know, baby. But I'll never hurt you. I swear I won't. Do you trust me?"

  Everything in her life came down to this one moment. Crossroads-time. Was she strong enough to change her plans? To make some major compromises in her life-style, all for the possibility of knowing this man's love?

  Blindly, she reached out for him and wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him down for a soul-melting kiss.

  "Yes. Oh, yes."

  With a groan, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed.

  Yes, this was what she wanted. Just what she needed. They could work out the details later. New Orleans wasn't that far from Terrebeau. She could take local cases, so she didn't have to travel so much. They could be together every weekend. More.

  He placed her gently onto his bed. It felt as though she was coming home.

  "Are you sure?" he asked.

  "Very sure."

  The corners of his mouth lifted as he opened his nightstand and pulled out the condoms, watching her as if issuing a challenge.

  Excitement surged through her blood like an elixir. She licked her lips, hardly able to stand the anticipation of his touch. What had he done to her, this man with the sexy smile who was pure hot, Southern trouble? In the blink of his Rhett Butler eyes he'd transformed her from a rational, sensible woman to a trembling jumble of need.

  "Make love to me, Beau," she whispered.

  His rogue's smile deepened as he sat on the bed next to her. "Oh. I intend to, darlin'. Believe me, I intend to."

  A cool breeze from the old paddle fan above them twirled over her body like invisible fingers. Goose bumps rippled across her skin and she shivered. When Beau finally touched her, running his hands slowly up the length of her, she arched into him, clutching at the covers under her for an anchor in the sea of sensation.

  She fought not to grab his arms, forcing herself to endure the exquisite torture of his explorations. His callused hands covered her breasts, shaping, plumping, teasing her nipples to hard, sensitive points, each throbbing with the need to feel his teeth and his tongue.

  But he made her wait. He mounted the bed and knelt over her. "How do you want me, chère?"

  "Any way. Every way," she said. "Soon." She smiled up at him and the answering fire in his eyes heated her very soul. She reached out and slid down his pajama bottoms, wanting him naked as she was. He levered himself over her, covering her yearning body with his delicious weight.

  A soft, low moan flowed from deep within her. She closed her eyes and just felt—his crisp body hair rubbing against her skin, his taut muscles playing over her soft flesh, his fingers threading through hers. The humid velvet of his lips. Oh, Lord, he hadn't shaved. The rasp of his day-old beard on her sensitive throat as he nuzzled her almost sent her over the edge.

  "You feel so-o-o good," she murmured. "Oh, Beau, I want you so much."

  His lips covered hers and his tongue sought entrance. She opened for him and her mouth became a cauldron of simmering love potion, stirred with tongues, spiced with moans. His fingers gripped hers, his body ground her deep into his bed. She felt his strength and will to possess her, and knew she was helpless to resist. No longer wanted to resist.

  She surrendered to him completely.

  He pushed his knee between her legs and parted them, then settled between her thighs. His need pressed intimately into her, hard and thick. She wrapped her legs around his waist, eager to feel the full force of that need within her, and wriggled up so the tip sprang poised to enter.

  He broke their kiss, chest heaving. "Oh, no. Not yet." He held her hands above her head and moved himself down, just out of reach. "I'm not nearly ready to finish this."

  She groaned, half from frustration, half from anticipation. "I don't think I can wait."

  "You can."

  His lips and teeth nipped down her neck, her shoulder, around to the underside of her breasts. He licked all the way around one, then the other, until she writhed with the agony of waiting for him to reach the aching tips. His jaw rasped her erotically. Up, down, deliberately scraping the delicate nerves into a frenzy of craving. His mouth came down hard on one nipple at the same instant his fingers rolled the other between them.

  She called out his name in a burst of savage pleasure.

  Her back arched and she wound her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, closer. He laved and suckled her until she thought she would die of sensual bliss.

  "No more!" she cried, and in a move that surprised them both, she tipped him over onto his back and landed on top of him.

  "Your turn." Catching
her breath, she was warmed by the vulnerability behind his macho grin. She smiled, reached down and slid her fingers around him. He was long and silky and hard.

  He grunted, grasping her wrist. "Darlin', I—" His words choked off as she kissed a path downward, along the dark arrow of hair pointing right to where she wanted to be.

  "Hmm?"

  "I, uh—" His voice sounded oddly strangled. "Aw, hell, baby."

  Suddenly, she found herself on her back, staring up at him in surprise. He reached over to the nightstand. Closing her eyes, she drew her tongue up, up to the hollow at the base of his throat. He tasted musky and a little salty and, oh, so wonderfully masculine. So like everything she'd ever wanted or needed.

  What a fool she'd been to think Beau would ever hold her back from life! He wasn't like that. He gave. That was what he did. And now he was giving her the greatest gift of all. His love.

  She wrapped her arms around his middle and held him tight.

  In a motion, he was inside her. She gasped, felt herself stretch to glove him perfectly. Lifting her legs to his flanks, she clung to him as he started to move. She hadn't realized until this very moment how terrified she had been of losing this. Of losing him.

  She could have it all. It would work.

  It had to.

  * * *

  "Ah, chère, you've made me the happiest man on earth."

  Beau pulled Kit close and kissed her contentedly. He couldn't believe he had managed to pull off the impossible. Kit was his! Despite all her reservations, she had agreed to stay.

  And she was giving up so much to be with him. Every day for the rest of his life, he would prove himself worthy of her sacrifice. He'd fill her days with happiness so Verdigris wouldn't ever become boring. He'd take her traveling and give her responsibilities on Terrebeau so she wouldn't miss her job. He'd give her children to fill their lives with joy and meaning.

  Eyes sparkling, she kissed him back. Her mouth was warm and beckoning. He rolled on top of her, suddenly needing to affirm the new, miraculous connection between them.

  Her legs slid around his and he couldn't resist thrusting into her. "The happiest man in the universe," he murmured.

  With bodies still sensitized from their earlier lovemaking, it didn't take long for her to reach a trembling climax. Holding her tight, he found release himself seconds later. When he'd recovered enough to stop seeing stars, he rolled her on top of him.

  Floating on a cloud of contentedness, he stroked her hair where it streamed across his chest, and with a foot nudged her leg to rest over his. "I've dreamed—"

  His heartfelt confession was cut short by the tinny ring of the black phone on his nightstand. Damn. Doug had to have taken classes in bad timing. Beau checked the clock by the bed and sighed. Twelve-thirty in the morning. Well, he shouldn't be surprised.

  The phone rang again. Without dislodging Kit, he reached for it. "Yeah—" he cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at the deep, sex-roughened timbre "—yeah, Doug."

  There was a pause. "Uh, hey, Chief. Sorry if I woke you."

  "No problem. What's up?"

  "LeRoy's as usual. I know you're still officially on leave and I would have taken it myself, but I got a domestic disturbance reported out at the Reever estate. I better drive out and investigate."

  "Of course. I'll take LeRoy's."

  Beau hung up and glanced at Kit, who was looking up at him with a resigned smile. "This time it's for real," she said.

  "'Fraid so. I should be back—"

  "Oh, no, you don't." She shook her head against his chest. "You promised to take me."

  Frowning, he warned, "Fights at LeRoy's can be ugly."

  "I have you to protect me." She kissed his jaw. "I don't suppose they have dancing there?"

  "Dancing?" A slow smile captured his lips. Chief Beaulieux dancing at LeRoy's with Kit Colfax would give the local gossips fodder for generations. "Mais, yeah. Guar-ohn-teed." He tossed his hair out of his eyes. "But I gotta be honest. I don't know if I can even walk, much less dance."

  She chuckled. "Don't worry," she said, smoothing the sweat from his temple. "I'll help you."

  A broad smile poured from his heart to his face. "You already have, darlin'. You already have."

  * * *

  LeRoy's parking lot was overflowing when they got there. After squeezing the Eldo into a narrow space in the dirt lot, Beau reached over and dug out his badge and his ticket book from the glove compartment.

  When he clipped his handcuffs onto the back of his belt with a loud snap, Kit raised a brow. "Handcuffs?"

  He winked. "Image, you know."

  Yeah, she knew. Just looking at him and those cuffs made her crazy all over again for want of him.

  To distract herself, she slid out of the car and glanced hopefully toward the roadhouse. "Maybe Remi'll turn up."

  "I have a feeling he just might."

  Zydeco music poured from the very seams of the rambling building, along with shouts and swells of laughter punctuated by crashes of furniture at irregular intervals.

  "Sounds like more'n hush puppies is cookin' tonight," Beau said with a grin. "Come on."

  He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the noisy, jampacked roadhouse. A wall of heat and the acrid smell of tobacco smoke, beer, swamp and crawdad pie nearly knocked her over. The next thing that nearly knocked her over wasn't quite so benign. A chair sailed out from a clump of flailing arms and legs. Beau swung her behind him as the hurled furniture glanced off his upraised forearm.

  "Damn, that smarts," he grumbled as he gently pushed her against the wall and jerked his head at a big man with a beard who was watching the proceedings nearby. The man nodded and moved to stand next to her, his beefy arms folded over his chest.

  Beau grinned and said, "Excuse me for a moment, darlin'," then walked calmly over to the light switches by the door and flicked them up and down. Immediately, the ruckus ceased and heads turned toward him with a collective groan.

  "Fun's over, fellas," he announced, flipping out his ticket book and pen.

  Kit stood rooted to the spot, astonished at how orderly the whole thing proceeded. Beau's ultracasual garb didn't even faze the men involved. His authority was absolute. It was obviously a ritual that had been played out many times before. He gave a few lectures, wrote out a few tickets, checked a few bruises, slapped a few backs. A couple of men who just couldn't let up were escorted outside. Beau wound up declaring himself off-duty and buying everyone a round as the band launched into a raucous Cajun tune onstage.

  "Beer?"

  She nodded at Beau's question. As he steered her through the murky room toward the bar, several people turned their heads in surprise. Others waved and yelled greetings over the loud music.

  She hooked her arm through his as they walked. "People are staring," she whispered.

  "Yep." A smile eased onto his lips. "Make you nervous?"

  "Should I be?"

  "That depends. Plannin' on getting into trouble?"

  "I think I already am in trouble," she murmured, gazing at his handsome profile.

  He turned, caught a strand of her hair and drew her face to his. "Now that is for sure. And wearin' that particular outfit makes it a damn certainty."

  They were both in jeans. He wore his ubiquitous undershirt, but she'd broken down and worn his Property of Verdigris P.D. T-shirt rather than one of Jolene's froufrou creations. She was all his, inside and out, and tonight she didn't mind the world knowing about it.

  "You look like a million bucks and sexy as hell," he said, pulling her close.

  "Flattery will get you everywhere."

  Suddenly, the front door whooshed open and a voice boomed out, "Remi! There you are, you ol' son of a—"

  Releasing her, Beau swung around. "Well, if it isn't Jackson Taylor. Miss all the excitement, Jackson?"

  "Beau!" Jackson backed up. "Hey, sorry, Chief." He held his hands up in front of him. "Your arm around a pretty girl, natch'ally I assumed…"

 
"You happen to know where Remi is, Jackson?"

  The man shrugged. "Dunno. Out to the bayou, I hear."

  Jackson edged away into the crowd and Beau called after him, "You tell Remi I want to see him, hear?"

  "He's close," Kit said, rubbing goose bumps from her arms. "I can feel him."

  "I surely hope so," Beau said. "Come on, let's get those beers."

  At the bar, Beau shook hands with the scruffy bartender and ordered two brews. A crooked-toothed grin split the man's face when he spotted Kit standing behind Beau.

  "That your 'tite fille, Beaulieux?" he shouted over the din. "I heard she were a pretty one."

  Beau twined his arms around her waist and pulled her in front of him, giving the bartender a grin. "That she is."

  Kit sucked in a breath. There probably wasn't a man or woman in LeRoy's who didn't know who she was and where she was staying. Or wondering just what, exactly, she was doing there. If he kept this up, there would be little doubt in anyone's mind.

  "Beau," she murmured, "are you sure—"

  "What's the matter, chère?" he crooned in her ear. "If you're my woman, better be prepared to face the music in public."

  A thrill chased up Kit's spine. Beau intended to claim her in front of all his friends and constituents. Heart tripping madly at the step she was about to take, she looked at him over her shoulder. "Matter of fact, I do have a particular fondness for zydeco."

  He studied her, his eyes full of promise. "Well now, in that case…"

  She went into his arms on the dance floor and forgot all about everything but the delicious feel of his body pressed close to hers. The sultry heat of the room mingled with the smoky scent of cheroots. For a moment they just stood there, savoring each other. She ran her hands slowly up his back, greeting each intimately known inch with fingertips that reminded her just how sinfully well-acquainted they'd become.

  A low whistle brought her out of her reverie. A group of patrons at a nearby table stared, grinning their ears off. The sight of her and Beau's display of affection was causing a stir. She glanced around and spotted more people gaping.

  "Oh dear…" she whispered, her face heating.