“Do you want to explain?” His blank expression was now dark.
She felt as if someone had let the air out of her tires. “Explain what, Matt? I’m too tired to guess, so just hit me with it, ’kay?”
He leaned back against the seat, shoving a hand through his hair. “Start with the part about organized crime.”
So he’d found that out. She was too tired to be surprised. She spread her hands, looking at her nails as if she could find the answer there. “I don’t know anything about organized crime. There was some speculation by the Tampa police that David was involved in something, but they never told me what. And before you tell me I should have asked, stop and think about it for a second.”
He watched her evenly.
“I don’t have your connections and no one was about to tell me just because I wanted to know. It was over, the restaurant was gone, and I wasn’t looking back.”
“All right.”
“That’s it? Just all right? After you glared at me for the past five minutes? God, I’m sick of people jumping to conclusions about me.”
He blew out a breath. “Look, I just had my ass chewed out by my commanding officer, and I had to wake Mrs. Doucet—” He glanced at the dash clock. “—at nearly one in the morning to lean on the Rochambeau PD.”
“You got me out of there just now?” She’d been so relieved to be let go she hadn’t stopped to consider that the whispered conversation was anything more than police talk. Now she got it. The guy who came in had been telling the detectives to lay off. Because Matt had unleashed a Girard-family lawyer on their asses. If not for that, she’d still be there. Still tired and confused and scared. And saying God only knows what just to get Odell and Proctor to let her go.
Matt looked fierce. “Yeah, mon ange, I did. You didn’t kill the guy.”
“I think they believe we did it together.”
He snorted. “They wanted to scare you, Evie. They’ve got no proof. And Mrs. Doucet is the best attorney money can buy. She looks like somebody’s idea of a grandmother who knits socks, but she’s a tiger. I’m not worried.”
Evie chewed her lip. “I am. I’m worried about Mama and Sarah, and I’m worried that whoever killed David isn’t finished here.”
Matt touched her hand. Her nerve endings stood at attention, acknowledging him in a way that continually surprised her. In spite of her fear and frustration and exhaustion, he seemed to have the power to make her body sit up and say howdy. It was disconcerting as hell. And intriguing too.
His eyes searched hers. “One thing at a time, Evie. Let’s get to the hospital; then you need to get some sleep.”
*
When Matt had told her he wasn’t worried, he wasn’t telling the truth. He set Evie’s suitcase in the guest room at the carriage house and turned to her. She hadn’t spoken since leaving the hospital.
When they left the PD, she insisted on going to see her mother. He didn’t bother trying to talk her out of it. Wouldn’t have done any good anyway.
After they checked on her mother, she followed along bleary-eyed when they’d been allowed to collect her clothes from the house.
It’d been too late to call her cousin for a place to stay, so Matt had talked her into returning to Reynier’s Retreat with him. It hadn’t taken much convincing. The plantation wasn’t a military compound, but other than open access on the bayou, it had enough security to alert them to anyone who decided to pay an unscheduled visit.
Evie hadn’t mentioned Sarah lately, but he knew she hadn’t forgotten. She was operating on autopilot, processing only what she needed to function in the immediate present. He recognized the signs because it was second nature out in the field. Hostile Operations Team members counted on each other to perform under extreme duress. Their lives depended on it.
But Evie wasn’t trained and she was perilously close to a crash. It’d been a hard day for her. She was tired, stressed, and ready to collapse. He glanced at the bedside clock. It was nearly four a.m., and by Evie’s account of the previous day, she’d not slept in about twenty-four hours.
“I’ll be down the hall,” he told her, breaking the silence. As much as he’d like to spend the night between the sheets with her, there was too much to do. He needed to call Kevin MacDonald. His teammate was probably sleeping or drinking—or fucking—but Kev would move mountains to get the information Matt needed.
And if he wanted to find Sarah, protect Evie, and catch a killer, he needed all the help he could get. Especially since he’d been ordered—before he ever left Fort Bragg—to keep a low profile. Colonel Mendez was not a happy camper at the moment.
Matt resisted the urge to rub his ass just to make sure it was still there. How Mendez got word so fast about what was happening in Rochambeau, he had no idea. But he’d known it would happen. Truth was, he’d expected more time to operate before incurring the wrath of Mendez.
But the man’s sense for trouble was unerring. Matt’s phone had started buzzing within minutes of the police’s arrival at Norma Breaux’s house.
Nothing for it now, no matter what his commanding officer said. Matt couldn’t stand idly by and let Evie become the target of a killer. Would not stand by. Not that he knew she was a target, but it wasn’t looking good at the moment. David West had wanted something from Evie. And someone else wanted it too. Matt prayed they’d gotten it—except Sarah was still missing, and while that didn’t have to be connected, he wouldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that it could be until they found her.
Matt gritted his teeth. No, he would not stand by and watch from the sidelines, no matter what his CO preferred. He hadn’t been able to save Jim and Marco, but he wasn’t going to let Evie down. Not this time. He’d suffer the consequences once she and her family were safe.
Evie’s bloodshot eyes focused on him. “Thanks for everything tonight.”
“It’s what I do.” And yet it was more than that, at least where she was concerned. She’d been in his life since he was seven years old. He felt responsible, even if he hadn’t always done the best job of taking care of her.
“Lucky for me then.” She seemed a little stunned, like someone who’d just been told her house got blown away in a tornado and there was nothing left, not even a nail.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, huh?” He squeezed her arm and then headed for the door.
“Wait.” Her voice was soft. “Could you stay? Just for a little while.”
Christ. He knew what the answer had to be and yet he dreaded it at the same time. His self-control was usually unbreakable. It had to be, to do what he did. But tonight, he wasn’t so sure about his ability to maintain it. If anyone could get under his skin, it was Evie. He wasn’t quite sure why that was, but she’d been stunning him with her ability to do so since the moment he’d seen her in her mama’s salon today. He told himself it was because she made him remember more innocent times, more carefree times, but the truth was he didn’t really know the reason.
She simply got behind his walls. But, looking at her wide violet eyes, he couldn’t say no. He understood her need for company right now. Sometimes you just wanted another breathing human being to share space with. Didn’t have to say anything, just had to know someone was there if you needed them.
“As long as you want, Evie.”
She gave him a shaky smile, then disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned several minutes later, she was still wearing his shirt, unknotted now. She’d removed her bra and the athletic shorts and he could see, as he held back the covers, the curve of her ass beneath the hem of his shirt when she climbed into the bed.
Holy shit.
He pulled the covers up to her chin and congratulated himself on his ability to do so while the blood was rapidly draining from his brain. “It’s been a hell of a day, huh?”
She settled into the pillows, her eyes closing. Her hair, that silky black hair that his fingers itched to touch again, puddled against the sheets. “It’s been memorable.”
Matt laughed. “An understatement, chère.”
“It’s the only way to keep it from taking over.” She rolled her head back and forth on the pillow. “If I think about it, think about—” She swallowed hard, and he knew she was fighting tears.
“It’s okay, Evie.”
She nodded, and a tear slipped free. He reached out and caught it, his fingers brushing the silky skin of her cheek. What would it be like to have the right to touch her whenever he wanted?
He swallowed. “You should sleep.” And he should get the hell out of here before he did something stupid. Like wrap a length of her hair around his fist and bury his nose in it. Just a few hours ago, they’d been close to exploring each other again. But that was then. This was now, and she was tired, stressed, and thinking of so many things besides sex.
She blinked up at him, her eyes shimmering. “I wish I could.”
Matt sat beside her on the edge of the bed, facing her. He knew what he was supposed to say, but it bothered him he had to say it to her in the first place. Evie shouldn’t be dealing with this. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t what her world was supposed to be about. That was his world.
“It’s not easy seeing a dead body. It’s even harder when it was someone you knew.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t figure out what he wanted. I keep going over it in my head, and I just don’t know.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. The guy called you after months of no contact with a cryptic message. How could you possibly know what he wanted?”
Matt reached for the light switch and flipped it off. It’d be dawn soon, but the plantation shutters would keep out much of the light while she slept. He kicked off his shoes and lay on top of the covers beside her. If the room was dark, maybe she’d fall asleep quickly and he could go call Kev.
She turned into him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He felt as if she’d zapped him with static electricity. Not to mention his jeans were getting too damn tight. “Poor Matt. Bet you wish you’d never asked me for that dance.”
He chuckled, trying to concentrate on anything but the way her hand felt on his shirt. “It does seem to be the turning point of my evening.”
But he didn’t really mind that part. Returning from combat and trying to readjust to a normal life—for the brief amount of time he usually had a normal life—was never easy. Slipping into combat mode this evening was not only normal, it was also a relief. When had it become so routine to him? When had he come to desire the singularity of focus that combat mode required?
My God, if he really got kicked off the team, what in the hell would he do with his life? Put on a suit and work at Girard Oil?
The thought was enough to make him shudder. He had the engineering degree—the old man had pretty much insisted on it, in fact—but no way did he want to sit behind a desk and read business reports and P&L statements on a daily basis. He simply couldn’t see himself functioning in that kind of life.
It was meaningless. It didn’t help people. It didn’t make a difference. Hell, if only he’d had the temperament to be a doctor. But he didn’t, and he didn’t want to be. He wanted to do what he did, which was to help the people who needed it when getting help could mean the difference between life and death.
The idea he might not get to do that anymore terrified him. But, if that happened, maybe he’d hire on as a mercenary in some dark, dank, disturbed country in need of highly skilled muscle. It’s what made him feel useful, alive.
The only thing that filled the emptiness for a time.
Matt blinked. Emptiness? Why was that the word that came to mind? And why did he suddenly want to deny it?
“I’m really sorry I dragged you into this.” Evie’s breath tickled his cheek, pulled him back from the precipice of his thoughts.
“I’m not.”
“I can’t believe this kind of thing is what you do every day.”
“Just another day at the office.”
He said it jokingly, but the truth was he needed this job. Though, right now, he was thinking he needed something else more. When he was with Evie, he felt like he’d come home. He told himself there was any number of reasons for that, and none of them would last beyond the moment they had sex. It was fascination and history and chemistry all rolled into one. Feed it, and the intensity would ease.
Because he’d been fascinated with women before, and the fascination always faded after they had sex. It was just the way it worked for him. And he didn’t believe Evie would be any different in the long run, despite their history.
Evie was soft where she curled against him, her sweet scent soothing. Her fingers slid up his jaw, stroked beneath his ear. He lay there quietly while his cock hardened painfully. For once in his life, he just wanted to slip into the moment and forget everything. Forget the planning and calculating, forget the necessity to think beyond this moment, forget what lay out there waiting to pounce from the shadows.
In a moment of supreme weakness, Matt lowered his mouth to hers. She didn’t pull away in surprise but simply met his kiss by opening her mouth and inviting him inside. He should have known Evie wouldn’t behave as he expected her to.
He knew where this would lead if he wasn’t careful, yet he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the kiss, from demanding more. She tasted so sweet and felt so good pressed up against him. She made him forget everything but her.
She didn’t stop giving, didn’t stop tangling her tongue with his, though he expected it at every turn.
He pulled back when he found himself reaching for the covers, intending to expose her lovely skin to his hands and mouth. This was Evie Baker, not some woman he’d never see again. They had history—lots of history. And she wasn’t thinking straight right now. Neither of them was.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice sounded thick.
“What? Kissed me? I liked it.”
“It’s not right, Evie. Not after everything.”
She burrowed against his neck, her mouth next to his ear. “Are we going there again? Because I could really use a good lay right now. I need to stop thinking and do something.”
Matt bit back a groan. “I’ll find the Monopoly board. We can play.”
Her voice was a whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. “The only playing I want to do is with you.”
“Evie.” He was trying here, really trying. He was downright frigging heroic, a real martyr for the cause.
“What’s the problem, Matt?”
“You aren’t thinking straight. It’s been a stressful night. And believe me, as much as I want this, I don’t want you regretting it tomorrow—let alone immediately after.”
She sighed, her breath blowing softly against his neck. “I can’t promise I won’t regret it. I have no idea. But I know I need this. I need you. It feels right right now. That’s all I have to go on.”
“You need sleep.” His body ached. His cock strained against his jeans.
“I can’t sleep, Matt. Not until you make me come.”
Jesus H. Christ.
“You’ve had a hard night, Evie. If you still want this tomorrow, then we’ll see.”
She sighed and rolled away. “You’re right. It has been a hard night. I’ve seen things I never thought I would. A knife in my face, a dead body, my mama in the hospital.”
“I want to, Evie. Desperately. But there’s too much history between us, and I won’t take advantage of you again.”
She pushed herself up on an elbow. “It’s just sex, Matt. Do you really think I’m that emotionally fragile that I can’t separate the past from the present? Or that I believe for one second this time will turn out like the last time? Yes, we’ll go our separate ways. I know that. I don’t have starry-eyed dreams of love and marriage, you know.”
His gut clenched. Of course he’d been worried about that. “If you were any other woman…”
“What? You wouldn’t care about the whole starry-eyed love and marriage thing? Don’t you
think you’ve left a trail of broken hearts, killer?”
He reached out and ran his fingers along her jaw. “Maybe. But they weren’t you.”
She turned her cheek into his hand. “I want this, Matt. I feel cold and lonely, and I just want that feeling to go away for a while.”
Matt closed his eyes. Jesus, she was killing him. And he couldn’t deny her, not when it was something he wanted too. Not when it felt like she’d reached inside him and pulled out everything he was feeling too. “All right.”
“All right?”
He slid the covers down her body. “I can’t say no, Evie. I should, but I can’t.”
There was a long moment where neither of them moved. And then it all began to happen at once, as if they’d opened the floodgates to a very swollen river. He had every intention of going slowly, but it wasn’t happening that way. It was as if once his guard was down he had no control over anything.
They came together urgently, their mouths tangling, hands groping. Matt rolled her beneath him, assaulting her mouth anew while his heart pounded and his skin sizzled with heat. She moaned softly, sliding her tongue against his and going for his button-fly.
He gasped when she got her hand beneath his pants and squeezed his dick. Too much of that and he’d be a goner.
He tried to angle away, but she got her fingers around him, stroked him. The resulting sensation streaked through his body like a lightning bolt.
“Your shirt,” he said in an effort to slow the crisis building deep inside him, “want it off.”
She stopped touching him as he pulled the shirt up and over her head. Just the respite he needed to rein in this consuming fire for a moment.
“Yours too.” Her fingers tangled in the material, tugging upward. He lifted away and yanked the shirt off for her, tossing it over the side of the bed. “Wow,” she said, and he trembled as her fingers slid over his bare chest.
It was dark in the room, but not so dark as he thought it would be. He’d forgotten the full moon that slanted in between the blinds. He could see her beautiful body, the moonlight limning her full breasts. He put his hands on her, filling them.
Hot Pursuit Page 12