Midnight Special: Coming on Strong

by Tawny Weber

  A million thoughts raced through his head. A million hopes took hold of his heart. But Hunter didn’t show a single one. The same as he’d always done when he was in a position that put his life on the line, he kept his expression bland, his nerves on the catatonic side of mellow.

  Even as he hoped beyond words that her answer would be the shot he wanted, he didn’t bank on it.

  Instead, he simply asked, “Why?”

  * * *

  MARNI’S MOUTH WATERED a little as she stared at the man who, the last time she’d seen him, had given her the strongest, most body-shaking orgasm of her life. The look in his eyes was so strong, so demanding, it was as if he was looking straight into her soul. Again. Maybe that’s what made her so crazy for him, that he saw her. Beyond the hair and the clothes and the curves, he saw the real her. And demanded she be the real her.

  “Marni?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why?” he asked again.

  Well, there’s the million-dollar question. Marni’s throat was so tight, she had to swallow three times to get the air past it and into her suddenly aching lungs.

  “Why?” she repeated, buying time.

  “Yeah.” His voice as calm as his face, he leaned his hip against the dresser and gave her a look with about as much expectation as if he’d just asked her for the time. “Why’d you make a promise like that? What’d you pivot your story to? And what good is this information to you if you can’t use it?”

  Maybe he should be trying the Burns case instead of those fancy lawyers. Between those kinds of questions and his ability to see directly into her mind, he’d have already gotten the conviction. She bit her lip.

  “I could have used it. I mean, I did make my initial promise to Maria-Louisa with the caveat that she couldn’t hold me to it if the case involved murder. She agreed, since, you know, she’s big on the commandments.” Marni offered a shaky smile, waiting to see if he’d join in on the joke. He just stared. Okay, then. Her heart pounded. She almost pushed a nervous hand through her hair again, then reminded herself of how long she’d spent getting prettied up for this meeting. So she wrapped her fingers together instead and shrugged.

  “If I break this story, it ruins your case. I know one lost case won’t ruin your career or anything. Your reputation is too good, your record too impressive for that. Still, it felt, well, wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “You keep asking that,” she said in exasperation.

  “Go ahead and keep answering.”

  Marni opened her mouth to tell him.

  She tried to push the confession past her lips.

  But she couldn’t.

  Not without having any idea if he’d reciprocate her feelings. Not without a clue if he cared about her, too.

  “Why didn’t you stop me? You knew I was working on the Burns angle and his wife being alive.” Her nerves exhausted from the constant spin of emotions, Marni lifted her palms in question. “So why didn’t you stop the story? Have me detained. Intimidate me into running back to hemlines and fashion shows.”

  There. She’d put the why right back in his corner.

  From the look in Hunter’s eyes, he didn’t like it there very much. Frustration and something else, something deep and intense that made her stomach clench and her heart race, lurked in those blue depths.

  Why? What didn’t he want to tell her?

  Marni held her breath, waiting to find out.

  “I can’t have you arrested for breaking a story. You know that.”

  “You could have made my life very difficult. You could have played the intimidation card,” she countered.

  “You don’t think sneaking into your hotel room, slamming you against the wall and having wild-man sex with you wasn’t intimidating?” he asked, the bitterness in his words clearly self-directed.

  Marni frowned. Unable to help herself, she moved closer, reaching out to take both of his hands. His hard, strong fingers closed, warm and solid, over hers.

  “I hate to break it to you, wild man, but I wasn’t intimidated by that. Turned on, blown away, satisfied, yes. But scared and intimidated, no.”

  He arched one brow and waited.

  Marni rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, fine. Maybe I was overwhelmed, nervous and a little freaked out. But not intimidated. Not enough to sideline my ambitions and sit on the biggest story of my as-yet-growing career.” She bit her lip, and then, because she hated the idea of him turning what had been incredibly exciting and totally consensual sex into something he was ashamed of, she tightened her hands on his and shook her head. “But I never felt at risk, you know? I knew, no matter how angry you were and how important this case is to you, that you wouldn’t cross any lines. I’m safe with you.”

  All of a sudden, the only real fear Marni had when it came to Hunter fell away. The fear that he’d break her heart. Tension poured from her body, leaving her feeling a little limp and teary-eyed. It didn’t matter whether Hunter returned her feelings or not. Whether he was interested in a future together or separate.

  Whatever happened today, she’d walk away knowing she’d be okay. That she had the priorities between her self, her heart and her career in an order she could live with.

  Marni gave a silent sigh.

  There. Now that she’d got all that touchy-feely stuff straight in her head, she squared her shoulders and prepared to make damned sure this went her way. Because she wasn’t leaving this room until she’d got her man.

  “You feel safe with me?” he repeated, clearly having spent a few seconds mulling that and, if his frown was any indication, not being thrilled by his conclusion.

  “I didn’t call you a harmless, fluffy bunny rabbit,” Marni said with a soft laugh. “I just said I don’t believe you’re a bully. Not a physical bully, since I was right there enjoying that wall-banging with you. And not a mental bully, since you didn’t play head games to try to intimidate me into falling in line on the story.”

  “The story.” Hunter glanced at the desk, where he’d tossed the papers, then back at her. “So what’s the deal on that, then? You claim I didn’t influence your decision in writing the story. You also say you promised a nun, which is a big promise even if you did grow up together, that you’d keep this information from going public.”

  Marni took a deep breath and, because she needed to move to keep her thoughts from stuttering, slipped her hands out of his and stepped away.

  She poked at the papers, then walked to the window to tweak the curtain open and let some light into the room.

  “You okay?” she asked when Hunter winced. He nodded, then gave her an impatient look. Hurry up with the details, his eyes screamed. Okay. Time to get this over with.

  “I actually did write a piece and submitted it yesterday. My editor contacted me this morning. He’s blown away, really excited. He said they’d not only be running it, but he’s moving me out of Style.”

  Hunter’s eyes chilled.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, steadied his feet as if he was bracing himself, and tilted his head for her to go ahead.

  “It’s not this article, though,” she said, pointing at the deskful of papers. Starting to feel nervous again, she paced between the bed and the window. “Look, before I tell you about the piece I wrote, there’s something I need to say.”

  Hunter waited.

  Marni bit her lip, wishing he’d switch off the FBI face but knowing why he couldn’t until he knew where the article situation stood.

  “I did get on that train because of the Burns story,” she confessed. “I knew through, well, a little sleuthing, that you would be working on the case prep. That you’d be a captive source, if you will.”

  She waited for his anger, but he kept staring, those blue eyes calm and patient. Marni’s stomach churned and she paced faster.

  “I didn’t poke into your files, though. I didn’t search your luggage or try to hack into your laptop or listen to your phone calls, or anything like that.”
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  Still, he stared.

  Her pace increased.

  “I didn’t sleep with you to try to get information. I wouldn’t use you like that, or cheapen this thing between us.” She waved a hand back and forth between them, like the thing was right there, in all its three-dimensional glory. “I have high standards for myself, Hunter. I don’t share myself with a man unless I have really strong feelings for him.”

  She hesitated, then, forcing her feet to stop running between the furnishings, she wrapped her fingers together and gave Hunter a shaky smile.

  “I tried to resist this thing—” she gestured again “—between us. I knew it’d ruin my focus. Make me question my judgment in writing the story I was there to write. And worse, that it’d make it seem like I was sleeping my way to success.”

  He just kept staring.

  She was tempted to kick him in the shin just to get a damned reaction.

  Finally, he tilted his head as if acknowledging her point.

  “I don’t think the sex between us had anything to do with your story or my case,” he said quietly. “I know you better than that.”

  Okay. Marni bounced a little in her boots. So far, so good. She could leave it at that, actually. Just clear the air, make sure things were copacetic and be on her way.

  She swallowed hard, pretending her feet were nailed to the floor, and called on every bit of nerve she had.

  “You know me better than anyone,” she confessed. “I come from a huge family, a close family. But you’re the first person who listens to me, who gets me. Who really sees me for who I am.” She wet her lips, then shrugged. “But maybe that’s just a by-product of your job?”

  She held her breath, trying to keep her expectant look more interested than desperate.

  “Are you asking about my feelings toward you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. She hated that she couldn’t tell what was going on behind them. He had that special agent face on.

  Yes, she wanted to cry. Please, take over this conversation, grab the lead and pull the responsibility off her shoulders. She’d be happy to respond to his confession instead of making her own. That’d be so much easier.

  She opened her mouth to say that. Then snapped her lips shut. Not because she changed her mind. But because she had no idea how the hell to put it into words without sounding ridiculous.

  “I guess I’m trying to explain my own feelings toward you,” she finally said, her words low and hesitant. “I wouldn’t have slept with you on the train if they weren’t strong. I could have resisted the physical attraction between us, but not the emotional one.”

  He closed his eyes, then reached up to rub two fingers against his temple. What? Was she giving him a headache? But when he opened his eyes again, they were glowing with a delighted kind of joy.

  Enough to have her spilling out the rest of her confession.

  “I admire you, Hunter. I admire your dedication to your job, and even more how you do the job your way. How you stand for people that others wouldn’t. I’m in awe of your mind, at how you think.” All of the energy that had made her need to pace, to bounce or move, seeped away. She stepped closer, once again taking his hands in hers as she met his penetrating gaze.

  “You make me laugh. You make me think. You’re pretty amazing in bed, or against the wall.” She grinned when his lips twitched, and then she sighed deeply and confessed, “I love how you see the real me. And in seeing me, how you not only accept me, but encourage and celebrate who I am. You make me feel strong.”

  Hunter was shaking his head before she’d finished the final word.

  “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit for your strength, Marni. I saw it before I knew what your job really was.” She winced, but he kept going. “But after I looked into your record, saw the things you’ve done—and the odds you faced—I was even more impressed with your drive and focus on building the career you want.”

  Marni’s heart melted, going as gooey soft as chocolate in the bright sunshine. She sighed, tilted her head to one side and gave him a tremulous smile.

  “I love you,” she murmured. “I really, really love you. I love your dedication, your strength, your smile and how you make me feel. Inside and out.”

  For a second, one miserably long second, Hunter’s face went blank. His eyes dimmed. His smile faded. He seemed to freeze in place.

  Marni’s gooey heart froze, too. For that interminable second, she held her breath, trying to prepare herself for the easy letdown. Trying to convince herself that it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as she kept imagining.

  Then, before she could call herself out for being a liar, Hunter pounced. He released her hands, grabbed her by the waist and spun her in a circle before pulling her tightly into his arms.

  “I take it you think this is good news?” she asked, her words muffled against his chest.

  “Good news?” He pulled back enough to give her the happiest grin she’d ever seen on his gorgeous face. “This is fabulous news. I love you, too. I never thought I’d feel this way. Never thought I’d care so much about anyone, let alone care so much more than I do about my career. I love you. Like I love nothing, no one, else in my life.”

  Delight and relief surged so strong, Marni almost cried. She managed to laugh instead, giving him the biggest, brightest smile and running her palm over his cheek in a gentle caress.

  Her laughter died away at the look of intense passion in his eyes. His kiss was a promise. A bond. A pact that swore their love would not only get a chance, but that it’d flourish and grow. That it was now the most important thing in this powerful, committed man’s life.

  She didn’t realize she’d actually started crying until he pulled away and wiped one tear from her cheek with his thumb.

  “Happy tears,” she mumbled.

  His laugh was sweetly understanding. Then he glanced at the files again.

  “I understand if you need to write that story, Marni. I respect people’s right to know the truth. Even if I don’t always like the timing and how it affects things. Don’t put it aside just because of us.”

  “Oh.” She wrinkled her nose, then figuring he wasn’t going to take his love back once he heard what she’d done, she shifted out of his arms and offered a lash-fluttering smile. “Well, thanks. But I told you, I wrote a different sort of story.”

  Hunter sighed, leaned back against the desk and made a gimmee gesture with one hand. His smile stayed mellow, but his eyes were intense, not letting her look away. Marni puffed out a breath, then pulled the story file out of her bag and handed it to him.

  “Just so you know, this isn’t open for editorializing,” she said, wiping her suddenly damp palm on her skirt. “I’ve already turned it in to my editor, he’s already accepted it. It’ll run in the next edition of Optimum.”

  He gave her a long, assessing look. As if he was debating whether or not he was okay with that. Then, with a contemplative look on his face, he flipped the folder open.

  His eyes rounded with shock. Marni gnawed on her lower lip. His gaze narrowed as he read. Marni pressed a hand to her churning stomach. Not because she was worried he’d be mad. But because she wanted him to be proud.

  After a minute or two, she wanted to rip the papers from his hands and read it aloud to him. Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  Finally, just about the time she was sure her head was going to explode from nervous excitement, he flipped back to the first page, then closed the file.

  “Still love me?” she asked with a shaky smile.

  He gave a wordless shake of his head, lifting the file as if to say wow.

  Good wow or bad wow?

  “You are something else,” he told her. “You wrote a profile on my father? You make him sound like, well, like the hero I always think of him as.”

  Hunter looked away and cleared his throat. Then he tossed the file on the desk, took her hands again and lifted them to his lips in the most romantic gesture of her life.

  “I don’t even have the
words to thank you for writing such an incredible story. I’ve always been proud of my father, of his work. But I’m honored to see it laid out in such a remarkable way.”

  Relief surged so strong, Marni’s knees almost gave out.

  “I have to ask, though. Why did you change your focus? I know you talked a lot about biographies and stuff, but I thought that was just a cover.”

  “It was and it wasn’t. The thing is, the more I talked about it, the more I worked on the profile of my aunt, just in case you happened to peek over my shoulder, the more I remembered how much I loved writing them. The more I researched for the Burns story, though, the more I dug into your history, and your father’s. I was fascinated.” She thought of those days with her aunt, their talks and the decisions Robin had helped her make. “I realized that while I might be good at hard-hitting news, it was the people in the news that captivated me. That’s what I wanted to focus on.”

  She wet her lips, then touched the tips of her fingers to the folder before giving him a smile.

  “I sent the piece on my aunt to my editor, too. He’s excited to run it, as well. Instead of becoming one of the minor players in the news department, I’m being given my own segment each month. Profiles, by Marni Clare. And I couldn’t, wouldn’t have ever done it without you.”

  Just saying it made her shiver.

  But not as much as the look of pride and delight on Hunter’s face as he drew her closer. His fingers tangled in her hair while he gently took her lips in a tribute. Marni fell into the kiss, delighting in the passion flaming between them, the commitment whispered in that soft meeting of their mouths.

  Slowly, so deliciously slow, Hunter pulled his mouth away from hers. She forced her eyes open, needing to see his face when she asked her last question.

  “So, you’re really happy about the story?”

  “I’m really happy about the story,” he assured her.

  “Good. Because your biographical profile will run next month.” When his mouth dropped, a horrified look skating through his gaze, she grinned and fluttered her lashes. “What can I say? I love you so much, I had to share how wonderful you are with the world.”