by Mallory Kane
“Maybe.”
“Well, there’s nothing like that. No huge secret.”
“But maybe there’s a little one, eh?”
She was silent. Some part of her wanted to shrink away from him, to hide from the truth.
“Dana?”
“You’d just think it was silly.”
“No, chère. No.” He put his other arm around her and held her close, all wrapped up in the quilt. “Trust me. There is absolutely nothing about you that I would ever think is silly.”
“Not even my day planner?”
“Okay, well, your day planner.”
She dug her fingers into his side and he laughed. But his words were serious. “You never told me much about yourself, you know,” he whispered. “You always managed to change the subject. Usually by kissing me.”
She smiled. “I learned early on how easy it was to distract you by kissing you.”
“Mmm. You got that right. Never could resist your kisses.”
A little thrill ran through her at his words. “It was good, wasn’t it, Cody? That part of it?”
He laughed softly, the ripple of his chest sending answering ripples through her. “It was better than good. It was incredible. When you would loosen up these tight muscles and pour yourself over me like molasses, ah, chère, it was fantastic.”
She unwrapped one hand from the quilt and threaded her fingers through the sparse hairs on his chest. He drew a swift breath and laid his hand over hers.
“No fair,” he gasped as his heartbeat sped up under her fingers. “I thought you were going to answer my question.”
Dana licked her lips. “It’s nothing, Cody. It’s just a silly notion of mine. I just like things to be consistent, that’s all.”
“I’d say that’s the understatement of the year.”
She stiffened. “See, I knew you’d laugh at me.”
“No, chère, I’m not laughing.” He continued rubbing her neck in a circular motion, and his breath quickened. “Go on. Tell me. Why is it so important for things to be consistent? Why can’t you go with the flow?”
“I guess it’s my father’s fault,” she said in a small voice. “He never stayed around much when we were kids.”
Cody didn’t say anything, he just entwined his fingers with hers and rubbed his thumb along her palm, as his other hand massaged her neck. After a few moments, he prodded her gently. “What about your father? You never talked much about him.”
“He’d come home for a while, then he’d leave, and we wouldn’t see him for months. My mother said he had a wandering heart.” She started to sit up, a little embarrassed at her confession, but Cody’s fingers continued to caress her neck and she relaxed back against his bare chest.
“I was the oldest. So I had to be the responsible one. He always depended on me to watch after everybody. He always promised me he’d be back.”
Tears burned in the back of her throat, and somehow Cody must have known, because he pulled her closer. “It’s okay, chère. Just keep talking. Everything’s going to be fine.”
She took a shaky breath, remembering. “Then one time, he left and he never came back.” She closed her eyes, remembering her mother’s face—resigned, frightened, heartbroken.
“You never told me that. I thought your father died.”
“He did. We just didn’t know about it until over a year later.”
CODY CONTINUED to massage Dana’s neck. He felt the tension there, the knots, the stiff muscles. His poor little Dana, waiting for her father, who didn’t come home. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
He winced. “I’m sorry. That must have been bad.”
“I trusted him, you know? He promised me. He’d always come home before.”
Cody’s chest tightened. She’d trusted her father to come home and one time he hadn’t. No wonder she couldn’t bear waiting at home alone. No wonder she hated surprises.
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “You’re something, you know that?” he whispered, then he bent his head and kissed her.
Dana opened her mouth to his kiss, feeling all her resolve drain out through her fingertips against his warm, bare chest.
The thunder roared above them, nearly drowned out by the rain beating down on the tin roof. The fire crackled and spit, its light vying with the lightning that flashed around them.
Cody pushed the quilt away from her shoulders and pulled her across his lap, his kiss deepening, his arms cradling her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, giving him back kiss for kiss, hardly able to breathe.
“Cody,” she gasped, pushing her fingers through his hair.
“I’m here,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m right here. I won’t go away, I swear. Not if you don’t want me to.”
He tenderly pushed her down in front of the fire and lay over her, kissing her mouth, her nose, her eyelids, running his hands down her body to the hem of the T-shirt.
Dana’s brain screamed at her that this was a mistake, but she didn’t listen. Right now she didn’t care. Right now all she wanted to do was be careless, thoughtless, spontaneous.
She didn’t want to think about what might happen tomorrow. She didn’t want to worry about how she would deal with Cody after she’d let him in again. How she’d learn to live without him again. She just wanted to feel.
He slid his hand up under the T-shirt and ran his fingers up her thigh. When he discovered that she didn’t have on any underwear, he took a swift breath and pulled back, smiling at her, his eyes dark with passion, his lips parted.
“Tell me you want this,” he muttered. “Tell me you won’t stop me. Because if you’re going to stop, you’d better do it now.”
She shook her head, but he grabbed her jaw.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered breathlessly. “Don’t stop, please.”
“Ah, Dana.” He buried his head in the hollow of her neck, his tongue tracing patterns on her skin. “You smell like roses,” he said, his voice muffled. “Always like roses.”
Desire streaked through her like the lightning that streaked through the sky. She arched against him.
“Cody, please,” she begged, not sure if she was begging for now or for forever. She only knew she’d missed this the past four years. She’d needed him so badly, needed his strength, his passion, his intensity. He was the other part of her. She was only whole when she was with him.
Cody pushed his jeans off and slid the T-shirt up and over her head. He leaned up on one elbow, his gaze stripping away all the careful armor she’d spend four years building. They were both lit by firelight, their skin glowing in the flickering flames.
She watched him as he traced his hand over her collarbone, down between her breasts, down her belly. He was like a sculptor, shaping her body to suit him, touching it everywhere, leaving a trail of liquid fire where he touched.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her.
Dana’s heart was pounding in her throat, her body was taut with yearning, her skin was on fire for his touch. She took his face between her palms and brought his mouth down to hers.
Against his lips she whispered, “Now, Cody. Now.”
He gasped raggedly, his electric-blue eyes burning cobalt in his shadowed face. She felt him shudder, felt his body coil tight as a spring, felt his arousal jump against her thigh, and she knew he was as hungry for her as she was for him.
It excited her to know he, too, was almost out of control.
He held himself over her, the muscles in his arms and shoulders strained and bulging. She ran her hands over his biceps, down his chest to his taut, rippling belly, then lower, to guide him.
He gasped through clenched teeth when she touched him.
“Careful, chère,” he muttered hoarsely. “I’m just about over the edge.”
As he sank himself into her a low moan escaped her throat. It had been s
o long. Ever since he’d kissed her on the deck her body had been wound taut as a bowstring. Her emotions had been crying out for release, for relief. She’d tried to deny it, but there was no doubt now. The need inside her had turned to a desperate craving.
Lightning flashed and as it did she tumbled over the edge into blinding passion. She gave herself up to the sensations Cody coaxed from her body.
As the world stopped whirling, Cody’s body shuddered and he clutched her against him as he reached his own peak. Dana held him close, moving with him, taking all the pent-up passion he spilled into her. She wanted to cry as he buried his face in the hollow of her neck, his breath hot and ragged.
After a long time, he lifted his head, his blue eyes dilated and questioning. “Chère? You okay?” he asked, touching her lower lip with his thumb.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, smiling gently at him. And as he lowered his head to kiss her sweetly, she realized she really was.
She didn’t know how she’d be in an hour, or in the morning, when she’d had a chance to analyze what she’d done in the cold light of day.
She didn’t have a clue how she was going to deal with getting over him again.
But right now, she successfully pushed those thoughts aside and let herself bask in the present. “Live for the moment.”
She hadn’t realized she’d said it aloud until Cody lifted his head again. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” she said, pulling his head back down to hers. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter Eleven
Dana woke up in the middle of the night, hot and thirsty. Cody was asleep next to her, his face shadowed and peaceful in the waning light of the fire. In sleep, with his incredible eyes closed, he looked like an angelic child.
His slim, straight nose, his wide mouth with the generous lips, the ridge of his brow, all the parts of him that, coupled with his intense blue eyes could intimidate the hell out of her, were classic and beautiful when he was relaxed in sleep.
She reached out to touch his lips, but she was afraid she’d wake him, so she clenched her fist and carefully extricated herself from the tangle of quilt and Cody’s long legs and pulled the T-shirt on over her head.
In the kitchen she drank a big glass of water, then pushed her sweat-dampened hair out of her face. The storm had passed, and now the air inside the cabin was too warm from the fireplace.
She quietly opened the door and stepped out on the deck, breathing deeply in the rain-washed night. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out across the lake. Her skin still tingled where Cody’s lips had strayed. Her body still thrummed with the aftereffects of his lovemaking. Her brain was still hazy with passion.
She sighed. Tomorrow she would have to go back to the real world. Tomorrow there would still be a madman out there who wanted to kill Cody, and tomorrow he was going to leave her to go track the madman down.
Tomorrow, this night of passion would be another memory that she could stack on top of all the others and try to store away behind the protective wall in her heart.
Dana didn’t want to think about tomorrow. She wanted to go back inside and curl up in Cody’s arms and pretend they’d just gotten married. She wanted to be pregnant. She wanted to hear Cody say he’d take a desk job out in Metairie or Slidell or Abita Springs so they could finally have their normal boring life.
She wiped her hand across the deck rail, brushing the cool raindrops off the rail to shower down onto the deck floor. Then she brought her wet hand up to her face, relishing its coolness against her hot skin.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “Why can’t it be easy?” Why couldn’t they both want the same thing? Why couldn’t she accept the uncertainties of a cop’s life? Why couldn’t he at least try to stay out of harm’s way?
Why ask why, she thought wryly. It does no good.
The door opened and Cody stepped out onto the deck. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and laid his chin against her hair.
“What are you doing out here?” he whispered softly. “I’m supposed to be protecting you and you’re standing out here like you don’t have a care in the world.”
She leaned back against him, savoring the warmth, the safety, of his embrace. “I don’t, tonight.”
“That’s my girl,” he muttered dryly. “I try to get you to loosen up for years and you decide to be spontaneous when there’s a killer on the loose.”
“Thank you for reminding me,” she retorted, turning around in his arms and leaning back to look up at him, grinning. “Now who’s the party pooper?”
He shrugged. “Just trying to keep you out of trouble, chère. You’ve gotten way too impulsive.” He brushed her hair back behind her ears and kissed her tenderly. “Come back inside, and let’s act on our impulses one more time.”
Dana shivered at the blatantly sexual tone of his voice and the hunger evident in his expression. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her soundly, then kicked open the door and carried her through the living room to the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed and pounced on top of her, laughing.
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her tenderly, slowly, unlike before. Then they had both been desperate, needy, their passion almost savage in its intensity.
Now he was going to take his time. It had been a long time since he’d held her, a long time, and he wanted to savor every inch of her body.
He ran his hand up her slender legs, marveling at the feel of her. Silk and steel. It was the way he always thought of her. He smiled to himself. Just a few hours ago, that steel core had been molten, liquid, burning him when he sank himself into her.
His body reacted to his thoughts, and her eyes widened as she became aware of his blatant arousal. She touched his hand as he caressed her breast, and he lowered his head to take the erect tip in his mouth. Dana gasped and tightened her fingers in his hair as his lips and tongue played over her nipple.
He took his time, coaxing her, teasing her, building the passion slowly this time. He tortured himself by waiting. He held himself back, while he brought her to the brink again and again, until she was whimpering for release. Then he eased himself into her, holding his breath to try to remain in control.
Her eyes burned with emerald fire as he slowly stroked her, waiting, waiting for that moment when he could slip past her defenses and she would give herself over to his love.
After a long, torturous moment, she gasped and arched her back, and Cody laughed softly, triumphant and so turned on he could hardly breathe.
As he watched, her nostrils flared and her breath quickened, and he saw her careful control drain away in the passion of their lovemaking.
Then it happened, and all he could do was experience the lightning flash of sheer ecstasy that encompassed them both.
“CARELESS, MR. MAXWELL,” Fontenot whispered as he watched the silhouettes moving together in the darkness from his vantage point near the unmarked police car. “Very careless. And you thought you could beat me.”
He smiled to himself. He couldn’t have asked for a better situation. The two young lovers rediscovering their love. It fit in perfectly with his plans. He’d known he was right. Four years had made no difference in the way Maxwell felt about his wife.
He wanted to laugh out loud. He wanted to shout his pleasure at the top of his lungs, but he knew better. Unlike Maxwell, he could restrain himself.
Carefully, quietly, he picked the lock on the unmarked police car, and retrieved Mrs. Maxwell’s day planner from the back seat where she’d carelessly left it.
He turned to today’s entry. Nothing. He flipped a page over to Friday’s entry. Ah, perfect.
Friday: buy junk food, buy two romance novels, spend weekend alone at the lake house, reading and eating.
“You will wish you had, Mrs. Maxwell. You will wish you had.” He tore the page out of the planner and placed the planner back in precisely the same position it had been in. Then he closed and locked the car
door.
Inside the darkened house, the lovers lay still and quiet. Well, enjoy what pleasure you may find, children. For soon, your pain will be unbearable.
DANA STEPPED INTO the shower, wishing there was some way she could encapsulate the night before, put it away in a book like a pressed rose. Then the memories would be preserved, and she could be the same person she was before last night. She wouldn’t have to learn to live without Cody all over again.
She stood underneath the hot water, hoping it would wash away the treacherous memories of the night, the incredible tenderness with which Cody coaxed her into response, the unbearable pleasure that his hands and mouth and body had given her, the explosive completion he’d shared with her.
Her knees felt water soluble, melting away under the steamy spray. Dana put out a hand against the wall of the shower to steady herself as the echoes of passion pummeled her more effectively than the shower spray.
She put her head under the pounding water. What kind of idiot was she? She should have known better than to succumb to Cody’s carefree charm. She should have remembered why they were here, why he was here.
It was all because of his job, the job that consumed him every waking hour. The job of superhero—save the world by day, fall into bed with the little woman at night.
Cutting off the water, Dana tossed her head and reached for a towel.
Superheroes didn’t have a lot of time for family. Cody certainly hadn’t.
Dana knew he’d loved her. She loved him too. It was obvious last night that none of that had changed. She’d felt as if she was coming home. She’d felt whole for the first time in a long time, when Cody sunk himself into her.
Sure, he loved her.
The trouble was, he didn’t love her enough.
Scrubbing her hair dry with the towel, Dana scrubbed away thoughts of how good it had felt to make love with her husband again. Ex-husband.
She pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and ran a comb through her wet hair. In the mirror, she saw a woman who’d been well loved. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her reflection.