The Lawman and the Lady

by Pat Warren

  “Tate, I want you so much,” he whispered close to her ear, his voice hoarse. “I don’t think I can wait.”

  Tate wanted no lazy loving, either. “Don’t wait. I want you, too. Right here, right now.” Desire had her squirming, had her aching. As she felt Nick’s fingers slip inside her, she closed her eyes and let the wondrous feeling take her.

  This was what she’d needed, this mindless retreat from herself. The outside world was kept at bay for this small measure of time. There was no madman stalking her, no danger to her son, no separations to break her heart. Here and now, if only temporarily, she felt wanted, loved, safe. This was the only reality in a world gone mad.

  She felt his body tremble as he hovered over her, his dark eyes shimmering with passion. Could any woman resist being wanted this wildly? she asked herself. Then he was on her and in her, his thrusts deep and sure. The climb was faster than she’d ever known, more frantic. In moments, her body rippled with pleasure and her mind went blank as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure rocketed through her. Seconds after, she heard Nick whisper her name as he reached the summit with her.

  Long minutes later, Tate lay quietly listening to Nick’s harsh breathing slow, holding him still locked within her. She was a little dazed at how easily he’d managed to send her flying. In the distant past, she’d often had trouble getting there, and Adam, it seemed, had always been in a hurry. In her youth and inexperience back then, she’d assumed the problem was hers and that she’d never find the patient lover she apparently needed. Yet with Nick, she’d exploded almost violently moments after contact.

  It had been more like an episode of hot, reckless sex than tender lovemaking, Tate thought. Slowly she smiled. It had been the single best experience she’d ever had.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised at her sensuality, Nick thought, since every time he’d kissed her, she’d been passionately responsive. Tate was a woman a man made love with not to, a greedy participant who’d shattered his control far more easily than he was comfortable acknowledging. She’d made him forget everything but her and his helpless attraction to her.

  Which might present a problem.

  Rising on one elbow, he gazed down at her. Her eyes were soft and dreamy, her mouth slightly swollen from his kisses. “How do you feel?”

  “Amazed, astonished, astounded. And that’s just the A’s.”

  That made two of them. He wondered if such an unbridled passion, such a feverish need for completion that they couldn’t make it some thirty feet to his bed, was old hat for her. Or was she used to more tender encounters, candlelit bedrooms, champagne and sweet preliminaries. “I guess, on a romantic scale, that didn’t even make it to five.”

  “Maybe.” She raised a hand to touch his cheek. “But on a sensual scale, it shot off the chart.”

  He smiled at that, then sobered quickly. “I didn’t use anything,” he confessed unnecessarily. This hadn’t happened to him since his teens, this craving that had overruled good sense and all reason.

  “I know.” Tate brushed back her feathery bangs. She’d never in her life grappled on the floor with a man like some wild woman. How was it he could bring her to that? “I wasn’t prepared for…it’s never happened for me like that before. So blindly, so fiercely. I couldn’t think.”

  Nick didn’t want to admit that it had never happened quite that way for him, either. Rolling to the side, he took her with him, keeping their lower bodies locked together. He struggled with a belated self-anger at his stupid haste, his careless loss of control. Not wanting to upset her, yet needing to know, he braced himself to ask a very important question. “Do we have a problem or are you on the pill?”

  “We’re okay. I’ve been on the pill since Josh was born.” She hadn’t wanted to risk another pregnancy with a chance encounter, although there hadn’t been any. But Nick hadn’t known that when he’d maneuvered her down, hadn’t stopped to ask or to think, like she herself. She could scarcely blame him for what she was guilty of, also.

  Through his relief, Nick noticed her frown and trailed his thumb down her cheek, then along the fullness of her lower lip. He felt too good to completely withdraw as small after-wave tremors from her teased him. “Are you sorry now?”

  With just that light, gentle touch of his finger, he had her full attention again. Though his eyes were on hers, his other hand closed over one breast, the movement a caress. Deep inside, Tate felt him hardening with renewed desire, and felt her own astonishing response, as savage as the first time.

  Fragments of a conversation she’d had recently with her landlady came back to her. It had been Maggie’s wedding anniversary, which she’d been celebrating alone since her husband’s death, and she was waxing sentimental. They’d been discussing great loves and Tate had commented that Josh’s father had certainly not been the love of her life, though maybe at twenty, she’d thought so. Maggie had commented that perhaps Tate had never felt an attraction so deep, so strong that all else be damned. Tate had agreed, had doubted she ever would.

  But now, lying here on his living-room rug with Nick Bennett buried deep within her, after incredible sex yet already wanting more, Tate felt that intense attraction now.

  “Sorry?” she repeated. Tate shook her head. “How could I be sorry when no one’s ever made me feel the way you do?”

  He didn’t say anything, but she saw the tension leave his face just before he gathered her closer to kiss her deeply. This time he explored her mouth unhurriedly, then shifted his hands to wander her body, all the while watching her reaction to his touch. Leisurely he investigated every curve and hollow he’d missed on his previous speedy journey, searching out all her sensitive spots as Tate felt her breathing go shallow. He was once more throbbing within her and she was no longer able to lie still.

  Nick shifted her until she was on top of him, then thrust upward, letting her know he was more than ready. Tate settled her mouth on his and let him lead the way.

  Later, much later, Nick turned to find Tate watching him. “We could move to the bed,” Nick suggested halfheartedly.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m growing quite fond of this rug.” She gazed around the small living room, her eyes by now accustomed to the dimness. A fairly large mobile home, she guessed, and very compact. One couch, one chair, one end table and lamp, a television set and a bookcase. A Pullman kitchen at the far end and, she supposed, a bedroom and bath down the hallway. Enough for a bachelor pad, she decided.

  He saw her take inventory and felt the need to explain. “This is temporary. A lot of my furniture’s in storage. Tomorrow when it’s daylight, I’ll show you the house I’m building about three hundred yards from here. Slow going but one day it’ll be finished.”

  “You like to work with your hands?” she asked, although hadn’t he quit the family building business?

  Lying on his side, he propped his head with one hand and toyed with her hair with the other. “When it’s for myself like this, I don’t mind the work. I want it to be just so. But I don’t want to do it day after day, especially to others’ specifications. I don’t like to cut corners and settle for inferior products to save money. That’s why I wait until I have the money to continue, then I work on my place. When it’s finished, it’ll be all paid for.”

  “I envy that, a place of your own.” She sighed, brought back to the present in a rush. “I want that for Josh and me, one day.”

  “And you’ll have it, too.” He touched her chin, turning her head toward him. “Please, let me help. Don’t shut me out. I think you must know, there’s something pretty strong between us.”

  “I don’t know. I…” He was so close she could see his jaw shadowed with a day’s growth of beard, could smell the warm, masculine scent of him that further clouded her already foggy brain. She needed some answers and wondered if he’d give them to her straight. “In the car, I asked you why, why you wanted to help me and my son, and you didn’t answer. I know you don’t go this far in all your cases. Why are we spec
ial?”

  Nick couldn’t believe she was still asking. “Adam Weston did more than abandon you with a child. He ruined you for any other man. You can’t trust any man and you won’t let yourself believe that I might have an unselfish motive for wanting to help you carry that heavy load.” His voice was heavy with disappointment.

  Slowly Tate got to her feet, feeling terrible that she’d probably hurt him again, but unable to stop now that she’d started this. “What is it, then? Why do you want so badly to help us?”

  He stood, then turned to her and framed her face with his big hands, capturing her eyes, holding her still. “Because I love you, Tate Monroe, and I’ve never said that to any other woman.”

  Tate licked her lips, felt her heart pounding, her knees weakening. That was one she hadn’t thought of. “I…you’re right. I’m having trouble believing that. No one’s ever…I mean, love was never mentioned and…”

  “Why do you find it so hard to believe? Is it because you’re so ugly and I’m so handsome? Or are you a rotten mother who doesn’t care about her son? Maybe you take advantage of your sweet little old landlady, never helping her? Do you kick dogs and tear the wings off bees? What is it that you think makes you unlovable?”

  Stunned speechless, she just stared at him.

  “All right, let’s forget your looks, though I find that damn hard to do with you standing naked in front of me. Maybe I love you because you’ve put up with so much, yet that bastard hasn’t been able to break your spirit. Or maybe because you’d crawl over broken glass for your son. Or perhaps because you stay with Maggie to help her, not the other way around, even knowing that Adam could find you there.”

  His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he saw her eyes grow moist. “Yeah, because of all that. And because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, a woman who’s warm and loving and loyal to a fault. You give me reason in this insane world to get up in the morning and face another day full of killers and rapists and thieves. You make me want to hurry up and finish that house so I can bring you and Josh and Ralph here to live with me. So we can be a family, like I’ve always wanted. And maybe like you’ve wanted, too.”

  He stepped back, dropped his arms. “But if you still feel that sex is all I want, I’ll drive you home and leave you alone.”

  Tate closed the gap between them, put her arms around him and looked up at his deep gray eyes. “I’m sorry, Nick. Sorry for not believing, for not trusting. For so many years, I’ve forced myself to back away from my feelings. The men I’ve known, none have been like you. You’re the one who’s special. Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you agreeing with me for all the wrong reasons.”

  “There’s only one reason I’d ever be this intimate with another man ever again. I care about you. I have for a long time now, but I’m still afraid to trust my feelings. Once, years ago, I thought I cared for Adam, although we never talked about how we felt. I assumed he cared about me, too, and that was a huge mistake. I was in love with the idea of an important, popular man choosing me. I was very wrong and I’ve paid for that lapse in judgment.”

  He was softening. How could he not when she’d said she cared for him, when she looked so contrite. “You were young. We’re all allowed a few mistakes.”

  She draped her arms over his shoulders. “Yeah, well, mine was a whopper.” Slowly she pressed herself close to his body, watched his eyes darken. “This doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels right. I know you’re nothing like him. But you’re going to have to be patient with me.”

  “This feels right for me, too.” Bending his head, he touched his lips to hers lightly. But in moments, it wasn’t enough for either of them. He drew her closer, deepened the kiss as his hands kneaded her back and shoulders. He felt her breath hitch as she returned his kiss, as her tongue moved into his mouth, as her breasts rubbed against his chest.

  Nick pressed into her, backing her up until she reached the far wall. Holding her there, he kissed her mouth and her cheeks, down along her silken throat. Never would he have enough of this woman.

  At least with this, Tate felt herself on firmer ground. Making love with Nick was a joy she’d never thought she’d find. But confessions of love were something else again. How could she trust her heart to a man she’d known a mere few weeks?

  Growing impatient, Nick bent to pick her up in his arms and carried her to the back where an accordion door led into the one bedroom. His bed dominated the small room with space for only a nightstand. He laid her on the mattress and quickly joined her.

  The hall light had been left on, a dim glow drifting into the room. Nick lifted his head, his eyes devouring her. “I won’t tell you how beautiful you are,” he whispered. “Too many men have already done that.”

  “No one who matters,” she answered. “Tell me what you see.”

  “Perfection. Absolute perfection.” His hands settled on her breasts as she sucked in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed. He caressed her gently, then more sensuously, before lowering his mouth to her. He drew on her and she jackknifed as sensations flooded her system.

  His breathing ragged, Nick buried his face in her neck, murmuring hot, hungry, exciting things into her ear. Her eyes were half closed as she lay back, absorbing each new sensation, as with lips and teeth and tongue, he pleasured her. Anticipation bubbled in her because now she knew what he could bring to her. Now she knew and wanted to visit again that place that only he could take her to.

  She was giving him the gift of herself, Nick knew, one she didn’t part with easily or often. He would do the same, hoping to chase away her bad dreams, her pain, the bruised look around her eyes. He wanted her to think only of him.

  Tate wanted more, wanted to give to him what he’d brought to her. Her hands thrust into his hair and her mouth settled on his as her body began to move, reaching for him, drawing him to her. He knelt over her and slipped inside as if they’d been lovers for years.

  He’d known—not guessed, but known—it would be like this with Tate. He caught her hands, stretched them over her head and gripped her fingers tightly in his. Now he increased the rhythm, moving within her, watching her climb with him.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, needing to know her mind.

  “That I want you,” she answered, her breath heaving.

  “You’ve got me,” he answered, feeling her heart slam against his, feeling the damp, slick slide of her skin against his.

  The hunger inside him was like a living, breathing thing, the strong streaks of desire that he’d tamped down all too often were screaming again for release. Her eyes stayed on his, those brilliant green eyes, and he watched them change, darken, and finally disintegrate as they exploded together.

  Shuddering, whispering his name, Tate closed her eyes and let go of the world, feeling certain this man would be there for her when she came back.

  The return was slow, languid, lovely. She kissed his shoulder as he lay atop her, and tightened her arms around him.

  “I must be crushing you,” Nick said, easing from her.

  “No, you’re not. Don’t go.” She didn’t want this closeness to end, didn’t want to leave this wondrous world for the real one.

  But he shifted anyhow, drawing her with him so she lay alongside, facing him. His eyes seemed to take inventory of her face and a soft smile played on his marvelously sensual mouth. “I never expected to feel this way,” she confessed. “All those years, I met a lot of men, and never wanted any of them to touch me. I did everything I could to stay uninvolved. But you…you just…”

  “Tore down all those big walls you so carefully built?”

  Tate smiled. “Something like that.”

  “Let’s leave them down, Tate. No more barriers between us, no more secrets. Promise me.”

  She nodded, hoping she could keep that promise.

  Chapter 10

  They hadn’t closed the blinds the night before, their minds on othe
r things. So the morning sun came pouring in the bedroom window at five, awakening Tate, catching her slightly disoriented. She was lying on her back in a fairly small bed in a really small room, she noted. A quick glance around brought memories rushing back, and heat moved into her face. She turned toward the man who was taking up three-fourths of the space.

  Nick. He was on his side, the pillow scrunched under his head, his hair mussed by her hands, his jaw shadowy with his morning beard. He looked like a young boy, his face relaxed and unlined, almost carefree, like Josh so often did. Only there was nothing little-boyish about his arm curled around her, his fingers grazing one breast.

  She lay there, a myriad of emotions flooding her. This was the very first time she’d ever awakened in a man’s bed, with the man still in it. The times she’d been with Adam had been stolen hours, furtive, with a clandestine air that had made it seem exciting at the time. Thinking back now, the hours she’d spent with him, the ease with which he’d maneuvered her into his bed, shamed her.

  It wasn’t the same with Nick, she knew. He’d excited and intrigued her from the beginning. She knew only too well what trusting your heart to a man can do to your emotional well-being. There was no question that she’d wanted Nick to make love with her last night. The first time so that he’d make her forget her fears. But after that, she’d wanted him because he made her feel so much, and what she’d felt had been thrilling.

  For hours last night, she’d let herself dream that this was how it could be, how it would be from now on. With a heart full of longing, she let herself believe that Nick meant all the wondrous words of love he’d murmured to her in the throes of passion. Yet now, watching him sleep in the cold light of dawn, she wondered if he’d awaken with regrets, wanting to be rid of her as soon as possible.

  Tate frowned, knowing she was doing it again, thinking negatively, something that had become too much a habit. When you’re not used to good things happening to you, should they finally happen, you question them and yourself. Maybe, if she began to look on the positive side, things would work out.