Her Forgotten Betrayal

by Anna DeStefano

  Cole could push for a forensics team to go over the mansion with more sophisticated equipment than his, but that would be seen as a nonstarter by the powers-that-be. It would blow the cover off their High Lake operation. Dawson, if properly motivated, had the chops to orchestrate a sting that would end this once and for all, and free Shaw to live her life unafraid. But Cole still had nothing credible to report to his task-force leader, or to sell his hunch up his chain of command at the Bureau. Asking for a retaliatory response against a suspect he’d yet to pinpoint even a location for, with only the shreds of evidence he’d so far collected—a boo-boo on Shaw’s thumb and overly hot bathwater—would likely result in him and Shaw both being yanked from High Lake, not in the identification and capture of her tormentor.

  So for now, that left the two of them to deal with this on their own. And it left Cole with an obvious but unpalatable next step to take. Shaw was close to getting back her memories, and she deserved that chance. She needed every second he could give her to do just that. But her instincts were working on overdrive, exhausting her, hindered by the information about her situation that he’d withheld. Would revealing the rest be the final trigger she needed? Or would knowing she was under suspicion of treason shut down her trust in him permanently, making it impossible for him to help her at all?

  Either way, the next choice was hers. She might call Dawson again and pull the plug on the operation herself. But she deserved better than to remain the task force’s clueless pawn, and a sitting duck for whatever madman was toying with her. Even if she ended up hating Cole all over again, it was time she knew what his job had been on her mountain, and how much danger his and the government’s manipulation had put her in.

  You’d never hurt me, she’d said. He could still feel her passion-filled admission rushing through his bloodstream, her body straining closer. He had his Shaw back—the woman who never would have believed her father’s lies. You were making it your job to save my life, even back then…

  A part of her had kept wanting him all these years, defying the split her family had forced between them. Hopefully she would remember that when this was all over. Maybe not. But she needed an outside-the-box federal agent overseeing her case. Not a former lover, too worried about losing her again to make the tough call he knew he must. He packed up his tools, not allowing himself to think about how much of a risk he was taking, nor about how much trouble he was courting by blowing his own cover story.

  Cole was going to close this case his way, the same as he had every other one. The consequences of failure were too high to play things by the book. The possible rewards if his reckless approach succeeded were too precious.

  He returned the tools and the scrap wood to the storage room. Instinct told him, given the apparent technological sophistication of the unsub and what had happened to Shaw there and in the kitchen, that both locations were likely bugged and possibly wired for other types of surveillance—none of which he’d found evidence of during the casual inspection he’d allowed himself after realizing his scanner was useless. Every step he took was potentially being tracked. And he had to live with it for now, so the scum watching them wouldn’t know Cole was aware. He completed another circuit of the house, assuring himself that at least the windows and doors were secure. Another triage of the security system revealed no quick fix for repairing it. Whoever had disabled the thing knew exactly what he was doing.

  Don’t try this at home, kids.

  He retraced his steps to the downstairs bedroom where he’d checked on Shaw twice already. The door remained locked from the inside, his dubious attempt to help her feel safe enough to get an hour or two of rest. Like both other times, he pulled his kit from the duffel he’d reclaimed from the office. He inserted the pick and file and was turning the lock when the sound of crying reached him.

  Shaw!

  His gun in hand, he pushed into the room. The door swung wild and bounced off the wall. He swept the scene from one side to the other, his weapon tracking his sight line.

  Nothing.

  There was no one inside, except for the beautiful woman curled up on the bed like an exotic kitten taking a nap—if that kitten were trapped inside a hideous dream.

  “No.” Shaw’s head thrashed on her pillow. “I won’t let you. I won’t let you hurt me again.”

  Cole relocked the door behind him.

  “Shh…” On any other case, he’d have sat across the room and waited for her to wake up. But this was Shaw.

  He slid onto the bed, first removing his gun and shoulder holster and setting them on the nightstand so they wouldn’t disturb her when she woke. He touched her shoulder as gently as he’d caress spun glass. She flinched, then curled toward him, the fingers of her hand clenching in his shirt.

  “Please don’t leave me again,” she said.

  Cole should let the dream run its course and just listen. He needed details to report to Atlanta. He should keep his hands off her and do his job. But she was in pain. Trying to stop himself from comforting her was a useless waste of energy.

  He pulled Shaw into his arms. Her soft weight was a healing blanket to the heart that had been numb to feeling anything since he’d lost her.

  “I’m here,” he said against her temple, closing his eyes when she snuggled closer.

  “Don’t let him open the door. Cole, please. I can’t take it. The flames. The shouting. They’ll kill me.”

  “Who will kill you?”

  “He’s laughing now, can you hear him? Don’t let him open the door.”

  “Who, Shaw? Don’t let who open the door?”

  “Fire!” She struggled against his gentle restraint. “We’re trapped in the closet with flames.”

  “There’s no fire, honey.”

  She’d placed him squarely in her dream. Their past—the fire they’d survived together before they’d ultimately lost everything—was distracting her from remembering her shooter.

  “Forget what happened in the barn. Focus on the closet. We’re adults, not teenagers. A man is trying to hurt you. I’ll stop him. I swear. Tell me who’s on the other side of the door.”

  “It…it’s closed.”

  “Open it.” He tightened his arms around her. He wanted this over. He couldn’t stop himself from pushing. He needed her to remember. Now. So he could catch her stalker, yes. But also so Cole could know if Shaw, the real Shaw, would still want him after she knew the complete truth. “I’ll protect you. But you have to open the door.”

  “He’ll shoot me.” She pounded her fists against his chest. “He’ll burn us, Cole.”

  “There’s no fire.” He grabbed her wrist, her panic strengthening his resolve to push until they had what they needed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m here, darlin’. All you have to do is open the door and tell me who you see.”

  “I can’t.”

  She stopped struggling and relaxed against him, her consciousness slipping away. Or so Cole thought, until her sweet lips were kissing his neck, his jaw, then they were a butterfly caress against his own mouth.

  “He’ll shoot you, too,” she said, still mostly asleep. “And I can’t let him do that. I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. Their hazy, sleep-filled confusion was intoxicating. Her determination to defend him, when she’d been dreaming of her own life being in danger, devastated him. How did he hold onto this moment, once every secret he’d been keeping from her was revealed? He cupped her beautiful face in his hands, never less the emotionless enforcer he’d fought his entire career to become.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly. “Now you’re fighting not to remember because of me. You were dreaming. Your mind’s put me in your closet. And you won’t face your attacker because you think you have to safeguard me somehow.”

  “You’re helpi
ng me. No one else ever has, have they? Not the way you want to. Not my father or my brother.” She was awake, sad, and lost in his arms. Her loneliness knifed into him. “How is it wrong for me to fight to keep you safe, the way you’ve promised to protect me?”

  “Who?” he persisted. “Who am I protecting you from? Someone’s on the other side of that door. His identity’s in your mind. Tell me who he is, Shaw. I’ll stop him. I swear, you’ll never be alone in this again.”

  She closed her eyes and let her forehead drop to his. The old connection felt as easy as ever, as miraculous as when she’d first done it as a girl. It was a precious moment she didn’t even realize she’d given him. Someone needed him, wanted and trusted him completely, outside of the job. It had been a lifetime since he’d allowed that to happen. Fifteen years. He’d had many casual encounters since. But he’d never let another heart beat next to his like this, in time with his, the way Shaw’s was now.

  She raised her injured hand to her temple and squinted, trying to remember for him, clearly suffering because of what he’d asked her to do.

  “No, let it go for now.” He kissed her eyelids, desperate to make her pain stop. “Hurting yourself isn’t going to help.”

  She sighed into his touch. “You were there this time. I could see you so clearly. I could feel you.”

  “I’ll always be there.” This was about him and Shaw going forward. He was going to make certain of it. Even when it meant finding a way to dig himself out of the lies that were confusing her so badly. “Shaw, there’s something I have to tell you—”

  “Don’t.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth and shivered when he kissed the tips of them. “No more. Not about the past or my shooting. I wasn’t alone this time in that horrible place, because of you. Because of us. I…I don’t want to think about anything else right now but—”

  “Us.”

  He wasn’t alone anymore, either, with her in his arms, clinging to him. This couldn’t be the last time. He wouldn’t let telling her about the task force be the end of what they’d rediscovered with each other. She was no longer kissing him, but he could feel the tension in her body, rivaling his own, and her need for more. He kept his touch gentle on her cheeks, cherishing her.

  “Be sure about this, Shaw.” God, he didn’t want to hurt her. But he couldn’t let her go. “You barely know me anymore.”

  “I know this.” She placed her hand over his stumbling heartbeat. Her soft, sexy lips were only inches away. Her gaze was alert and bright, all vestiges of her nightmare gone. “I want this. It feels so right, like I’ve wanted you—”

  “Forever,” he finished for her, the way they’d always talked over each other, sharing thoughts as easily as they’d breathed the same air. That honesty was what he had to make her see was real, when the truth was fully revealed. “I’ve needed you every day since I lost you.”

  “Cole, please love me.”

  The vulnerability, the fear of rejection in her request made him want to go back in time and beat on her father and brother for making her doubt herself. Maybe even beat himself for not fighting to keep her no matter what she’d said or thought after her brother’s death. Damn, he’d been such an idiot, hating her for so long. He should have stayed and fought to know exactly what had happened. All this time, her love for him had clearly been waiting below the surface of their separation, begging to be set free.

  “Show me you want me,” she said. “Show me you remember it, too.”

  “I’ve never forgotten.” He stopped what would have been her next words with a kiss. He covered her body with his own, easing her to the bed’s down pillows and ancient quilt. “No matter how much it hurt to know I’d never touch you again. I swear, I never forgot, not for a moment.”

  …

  Lying in Cole’s arms was a dream Shaw would be happy to stay in forever. The two of them loving each other was a reality she’d fight anyone and anything to keep. Cole, focused on her, needing her and letting her fill the emptiness she’d sensed in him from the start.

  “You feel so good.” His weight pressed her deeper into the mattress.

  She arched into him. His teeth raked the sensitive line of her neck, finding nerve endings that fired to life. He explored, tasted, branded her.

  “God, Cole, what are you doing to me?”

  “Wanting you. Every place I remember loving you. Every damn inch of you.”

  She was shaking in his arms and reveling in it. This was the strength his desire called from her, helping her conquer the uncertainty she felt everywhere except in his embrace. Her hands slid up his chest, clenching around his shoulders. She was certain that never in her life had she felt safer. Freer.

  His lips found her ear. “Are your nipples still sensitive, Shaw? Sexy little points of sensation that make you scream when I play with them?”

  Chill bumps of anticipation raged through her at the graphic picture his words painted, igniting a fire that raced to her center. She shook her head, feeling her feminine muscles clench, then soften, growing damp.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her hips molding into his.

  “Want to find out?” He kissed the corner of her mouth in an innocent caress. Then his hands covered her breasts, his fingers plumping her nipples, closing around them, tweaking, torturing her.

  “Yes.” She gasped, taking control of their kiss, her tongue swirling around his.

  She cried into his mouth as he continued to play. She inhaled his groan. She gave herself over to the new, the familiar, the perfect feel of him overwhelming her senses. He made her need, and he made her believe she could take.

  She pulled his T-shirt over his shoulders and tossed it away. He unbuttoned her blouse and laid the two halves back. He’d touched her already. He’d had to have known she wasn’t wearing a bra. But watching his pupils dilate, his jaw tighten at the sight of her, had her lifting off the bed until her breasts met the heat of his chest. His hands gripped her hips, thrilling her with his greed.

  She sank her teeth into the muscles of his shoulder. Sparks flew behind her closed eyelids at the indulgence of it. The sounds he made, the pleasure rumbling through him, told Shaw her instincts had been right on target.

  This. His palms smoothed down her back, beneath the loose waistband of her sweatpants, then her panties. This felt so real. She could remember this. She could remember Cole and the way they’d once been, simply by kissing his chest and clutching his hair when he kissed her tender breasts, sending stronger and stronger sensations flaming through her.

  She grappled with his belt buckle. She winced. Her still-sensitive fingers jerked back.

  “Please,” she begged, panting.

  His gaze was hooded, intense, when he looked up. In it, she saw the reflection of everything she was feeling. Hunger. Reverence. Want. Need.

  “Please what, darlin’?” He pecked a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, then drugged her with another endless mating of their mouths.

  “Please don’t let this end. Don’t let it go away like the rest.”

  “Your dreams?”

  “The nightmares.” Her eyes teared up. Then he was distracting her again, sweeping away the last of her clothes, then his, never completely leaving her. “They’re horrible. But they’re all I’ve had to hold onto. Before you came back, I thought they were the only things that would help me connect with my past. And every time I wake up, they’re gone. All I’ve been left with is pieces. Pieces of me. None of the truth I need ever stays.”

  Cole stroked her hair, his hand coming to rest between her head and the pillow.

  “I’m staying, Shaw. This time, no one’s going to convince me to leave. I’ll be here every time you wake up from now on, until the nightmares are gone, and as long after that as you’ll have me. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure you have it. Whatever you need, it’
s yours.”

  “You. I need you.”

  She wound her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. She’d thought she wanted to be free and independent. And maybe the old Shaw had been. Apparently she’d believed she would only be safe if she were alone. Now she knew that the real courage she needed to muster was the strength to simply reach for what she wanted most.

  “You’re what I’ve always needed,” she said. “I’m certain of it. I can remember feeling completely alone when I was attacked. There was no one I trusted to run to for help, even if I escaped.” She gasped. He was pressing his erection to her throbbing core. “Now, here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  His fingers massaged down her back. He licked up her sigh, then nipped her breast with his teeth until her nipple popped into his mouth. He sucked the pebble-hard tip, caught the arch of her spine, and held her suspended off the mattress while he drew on her breast, then its twin.

  “Please, Cole.”

  Her sore hand was a problem. But evidently her problem-solving abilities were not to be underestimated. Feeling liberated and loose and alive with what Cole was doing to her, she cupped him with her good hand, gliding up the satiny, hard length of him, her fingers caressing the head, finding the moisture there that promised he was as out of control as he was making her.

  Who needed her old life back, when what she had now could feel this perfect?

  “Don’t tease me,” she half warned, half begged. “Please don’t make me wait.”

  His chest rumbled with erotic laughter. “Who’s teasing whom?”

  He throbbed in her grasp, then slipped away. His palms swooped to her butt and lifted her to him while he slid down her body, kissing her navel, then lower.