He made her breathless, he made her lose control. In the dark, with his body close to hers, she could forget everything ugly that had happened before, everything ugly that went on outside this room.
Her body throbbed, she wanted Del so badly. She lifted one leg and draped it over his, bringing him a little closer. His fingers stroked gently, intimately, and she almost shattered at the simple touch. Everything else faded until there was only this; the way he aroused her, the way she fit against him. The way they came together. But she didn’t guide him to her, she didn’t rush to have him inside her. This, the touching and the waiting, was too beautiful to hurry.
Del rolled her onto her back, languid, never taking his mouth from hers. She kept her arms around his neck, holding on as if for dear life. He was hers. He belonged to her and always had. And she belonged to him. It was scary, profound and wonderful, all at the same time.
He took his mouth from hers and rose up, raking his hands down her body, spreading her legs and kneeling between them to watch the way his hands looked on her body in the moonlight. His hands raked up her inner thighs, the movement slow, the touch tender. He gripped her hips, brushed his thumbs across her hipbones and dragged her closer to him. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she pulled him nearer, until his erection brushed her damp center.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands on her body, his eyes on her face. “More beautiful than I remembered, and my memories of you...” He shook his head and grazed his big hands up her thighs again. “There’s no one in the world like you, Vic.”
She reached out for him, needing his mouth against hers as much as she wanted him inside her. Her body arched, her mouth reached.
He entered her slowly, pressing into her an inch at a time. Vic closed her eyes and savored the sensation, reached out to draw him down to her. She wanted him close, everywhere. She wanted his body against her, inside hers, all around. She wanted his mouth to mate with hers the way his length did. She wanted everything, and he gave it to her.
Too soon, she came with a soft cry. Her body leaped, her inner muscles lurched and squeezed, as she found the most intense release she had ever known. And Del came with her, with a soft cry of his own and a growl of her name.
Depleted, they lay there, entwined, unable to move. Vic finally lifted a hand and caressed Del’s hair. Brave. Could she really and truly become the woman she wanted to be?
“I love you,” she whispered.
Del lifted his head and looked down at her. She couldn’t read his expression, even though she could see his face well enough. “You only say that when I’m inside you. When your heart is still pumping hard and your breath won’t come. When I’m wearing your sweat and you’re wearing mine. That’s not love.”
Not the response she’d been hoping for, but real and true bravery wasn’t supposed to be easy. “Maybe I should tell you again, later.”
“This is nice,” Del whispered. “This is good. Do we really want to mess it up with love?”
“Yes.”
He left her then, withdrawing, rolling away, coming to rest on his side and taking her in his arms.
“You love Noelle....” Vic began.
“That’s a whole different kind of love,” he argued, his voice low and his hands possessive.
“I know.” She cuddled against him, buried her head against his chest and took a nice, long breath, filling her lungs with Del. “I just want you to understand that we’re not a package deal. You don’t have to romance me to get close to Noelle. You can see her as much as you want. You can be a part of her life, even if you’re not a part of mine. I don’t want you to think—”
“Vic, baby,” he interrupted, “tonight I’d rather not think at all.” He tightened his arms a little. “Just sleep with me. Hold me. And if I wake in the night...”
“I’ll be here,” she said softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Del slipped from the bed while Vic slept. It wasn’t yet six in the morning. He hadn’t slept long, but he had slept well, and he didn’t want Noelle to wake and catch him in her mother’s bed. Not yet. Not until they had a few things settled.
He dressed quickly, grabbed his cell phone from the end table and headed downstairs, dialing Shock’s number as he went. Del woke his partner, and none of the news he got was good. As of four that morning, Holly had still been unconscious and the doctors said she might not make it. It wasn’t the newer of her two wounds that threatened her life; knowing they’d need her alive Del had aimed for her shoulder. The old wound at her side had gone untended for too long, and that was the injury that could take her life at any moment.
More bad news. Preston was not at home in North Carolina or in his room at the hotel where he usually stayed when he was in Huntsville.
All this time, Vic had been worried about him bringing the danger of his job to Noelle, and it had been Preston mucking up the works. Only went to prove that danger could be anywhere and everywhere.
And no one could protect Noelle the way he could. No one.
Last night, Vic had again told him that she loved him. At least this time she’d been awake. But it was the moment talking, he figured. The passion of the moment and gratitude that he’d managed to bring Noelle home unharmed. He didn’t want her to say she loved him because she was turned on, turned inside out or grateful. So what the hell did he want?
He wanted her to love him over pancakes, when he hogged the remote, and when he forgot to pick his socks up off the floor. He wanted her to love him when she was irritated to no end by the little annoying habits she was sure to find he had.
Most of all, he wanted to love her back. He wanted to get rid of this lurking fear that if he loved Vic the way he once had, she’d break his heart again.
He was too damn old to be worried about a broken heart.
It was truly disgusting to watch the way the lovebirds acted when they thought no one was looking. For goodness’ sake, they were in their thirties! They should know better.
Noelle walked into the kitchen, looking for a late breakfast, just as Wilder crept up behind her mother and wrapped his arms around her waist. Ugh, he was kissing her neck.
“Could you please show a little restraint?” Noelle asked, her voice suitably cool.
Her mother was a little embarrassed to be caught. Wilder was not. He just turned to her and grinned. Did he have no shame?
“How do you feel this morning?” he asked.
“Fine.” Her wrists ached a little, since they’d been bound so tight, and she’d had the most awful nightmares. But she wasn’t going to stand here and complain. Most of all, she didn’t want Wilder to know she had nightmares about him not showing up to save her. “I’ll just make myself a bowl of cereal and take it to my room, and leave you two in private to… whatever.” She shuddered dramatically as she made her way to the pantry.
When she came out of the small, narrow pantry, Lucky Charms in hand, she saw that Wilder was placing a bowl and spoon on the kitchen table and her mother was bringing over the milk from the refrigerator. Looked like she wouldn’t be escaping to her room right away. Surely they weren’t going to sit here and watch her eat!
She was almost grateful when Wilder’s phone rang, and he stepped away. Noelle looked up from her seat at the table to find her mother too close, hovering and wringing her hands. So much had happened last night, they still hadn’t discussed the newly discovered fact that Wilder was her biological father. It wasn’t a conversation Noelle was anxious to have, mainly because she wasn’t sure how she felt about this new development. She was still a little numb, and even though there were moments when she thought she liked Wilder, when she believed every word he said about love and staying and being a father who actually cared, deep inside she suspected that she might be better off without the guy in her life. He probably wouldn’t be any better than her dad, in the long run.
Noelle couldn’t let loose of the suspicion that Wilder was only being nice to her so he could nuzzle her mot
her’s neck. Yew.
“I really am fine,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “And I can’t breathe when you stand that close.”
Her mother backed up a step, but she didn’t go away.
Wilder came back into the room, ending his conversation as he came toward the table. “Shock’s on his way in.”
Noelle’s mom started to speak, but was interrupted by the doorbell.
“That’s him.” Wilder turned around to walk to the front of the house and answer the door.
“He called from the driveway?” Noelle mumbled. Probably didn’t want to get shot by coming to the door unannounced.
“Got him,” Shock said as he came into the kitchen. Wilder was right behind him.
Noelle’s heart leaped. “The guy who hired that psycho bitch? You really caught him?”
“Noelle!” Her mother scolded. “Language.”
Wilder didn’t say anything, but he looked her in the eye and nodded his head in agreement. Geek.
Shock grabbed the box of cereal that sat in the middle of the table. “Hey, can I have a bowl? This is my favorite.”
“Sure,” Noelle said, annoyed that he was so easily distracted. “Did you really catch the guy?” She didn’t want to have to wonder if there was someone else out there, just waiting to use her to get to Wilder. Being taped to a chair once was enough for a lifetime. And if she never had a gun pointed at her head again, it would be just fine with her. “He’s, like, in jail?”
Shock cast a glance at Wilder, who responded with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. They were hiding things from her, Noelle knew it. But what?
“He’s not exactly confessing, or anything like that, but he’s in custody and that’s where he’ll stay, for a while.”
“Who is he?” Noelle asked, taking a big spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Some big-time drug dealer you two haven’t been able to catch, or somebody Wilder just pissed off.”
Her mother gave her that look again.
“Okay,” Noelle said. “Somebody Wilder annoyed as much as he annoys me. Better?”
“Let’s wait and make sure we have the right man before we start talking names,” Wilder said, walking away to collect a bowl and spoon for his freaky partner.
Shock sat across from Noelle and poured his cereal. “My favorite lunch,” he said in a confiding voice.
Noelle took a deep breath and continued eating. She was starved this morning. Her mother and Wilder poured fresh cups of coffee and stood close by, and Shock seemed to enjoy his cereal. She’d never before met a grown-up who actually liked Lucky Charms. Her mother always bought whole-grain crap with no sugar in it.
She liked Shock, more than she was ready to like Wilder, anyway. Shock wasn’t good-looking, or tall, or normal in any way. Maybe that’s why she liked him; she wasn’t exactly normal, either.
“Do you have any other tattoos?” she asked between bites.
Shock shook his head. “Nope. Just the one.” And then he cast a really quick glance toward Wilder.
Noelle smiled. They weren’t going to get anything past her. “Does Wilder have a tattoo?”
“Well, yeah,” Shock said.
Her bowl just about empty, Noelle pushed it away. “I wanna see.”
“Nope,” Wilder said. “Not today.”
Noelle looked not at Wilder, but at Shock. “Is it, like, in some place really nasty where I do not want to look?”
Shock laughed, and Wilder supplied a quick “No.”
“Why won’t you show me? Oh, is the tattoo nasty?” This was really getting interesting. “Something… Oh, my God, you have a tattoo of a naked woman somewhere on your body.”
“No,” both men said at about the same time.
Noelle glared at her fa—at Wilder. “Then why can’t I see it?”
Shock waved his own spoon around. “Go ahead and let her see it, man. She’s cool.”
That’s why she liked Shock. He thought she was cool.
Wilder looked like the kind of man who didn’t change his mind very often, who didn’t back down, who never surrendered. “Another time,” he said.
Noelle stood, exasperated. “You know, you come in here, take over like you live here, drag me all over the place, get me shot at and kidnapped, turn out to be my… my sperm donor, expect me to trust you, and then when I ask for something really simple...”
“Fine,” Wilder said sharply. “You can see the tattoo. But I have a condition.” He held up one finger. “You never, ever again use the word sperm."
Noelle grinned. “Sure.” That was a promise easily broken.
Wilder grabbed the tail end of his dark blue T-shirt and dragged it up. Noelle curled her lip. This sight she could do without. He stopped when the shirt had been lifted just far enough to reveal the tattoo on his chest.
Vic.
Her stomach constricted, just a little, but she didn’t let her response show. There was something very sweet about that simple, faded tattoo. “Oh, my God,” she said, no hint of emotion in her voice. “Mother, he mutilated himself for you. That’s kind of disgusting.” And kind of romantic, too, though she wouldn’t say so out loud.
Wilder dropped his shirt. “Satisfied?”
“Not nearly,” she said, leaving the room with her eyes straight ahead and her nose in the air.
Wilder said he loved her, but she couldn’t make herself believe him, even now. He was going to find the bad guy, have his fun with Vic, and then he’d be gone.
And sometimes she had a really bad feeling that no one would ever love her enough to mutilate himself for her.
As she climbed the stairs, she mumbled to herself. “Sperm, sperm, sperm.”
A voice bellowed from the kitchen. “I heard that!”
She smiled as she closed the door to her room and fell onto the bed.
Chapter 15
Since his explosive return to Vic’s life, they’d been on the run. In those days she’d dressed accordingly, sometimes in jeans and T-shirts, and even more often in those loose pantsuits she liked to wear. Comfortable and easy.
Today she wore a flowing dress, a pale blue background of gauzy fabric with a small pattern of flowers scattered here and there. It was feminine, it flowed around her legs when she walked. That dress drove him crazy. Had she chosen it on purpose, just to plague him? Probably not. She had several dresses in the same style hanging in her closet. The dress was ultra-feminine, and her hair—loose and curling and hanging down her back—drove him every bit as wild as the dress.
Noelle’s style was the antithesis of Vic’s. Purposely? Probably. Try to dress her in anything that had flowers on it, and she’d surely rebel. Her hair was anything but long and flowing.
But then, she was his daughter as much as she was Vic’s.
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked as Del held the video in his hand up for her to see. “Family day? I’ve been away from my friends forever, and you want me to stay here and watch movies with you? Trust me, you two will have more fun without me.” She rolled her eyes in disgust, to end the tirade.
“But it’s my favorite movie,” he said. He didn’t want to argue that it still wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, but he would if she left him no choice. It was bad enough that he’d left his Glock upstairs, along with his smaller six-shooter. Shock’s Colt was in a lab in Birmingham, since it had been used to shoot Tripp Mayron during the raid on the cabin. Even though that was not the wound that had killed the man, the weapon would be out of commission for a while.
“Very funny, Wilder,” Noelle said. “Mom told you that’s my favorite movie, didn’t she? What a lame gimmick.”
“Shrek is your favorite movie, too?” he asked with a grin.
Vic jumped in. “I didn’t tell him anything, Noelle. He came home with that video all on his own.”
“Okay, fine,” Noelle said sharply. “We’ll watch Shrek. What are we going to do for the rest of the day? Play Scrabble?”
“I hope not,” Del said. �
��I’m terrible at Scrabble.”
She narrowed one eye. “Me, too. Whenever we play, Mom always kicks my...” She rolled her eyes again when Vic cleared her throat. “She always wins,” she finished.
“We’ll make cookies,” Vic suggested.
Noelle was smarter than she usually let on. She knew she couldn’t leave the house unescorted, not until this thing was finished. If she was really smart, she didn’t want to leave unescorted.
They hadn’t told her that Preston was their prime suspect. Until they knew for sure, he didn’t want to upset her with the news.
“They’d better be chocolate chip,” she said darkly.
“Is there any other kind?” Del teased.
“After what I’ve been through, I deserve chocolate chip cookies.”
Vic stood back. She watched, but she said nothing.
“Yes, you do,” Del said, feeling so guilty the unexpected emotion sat in his stomach like a brick. “I’m so sorry that you got caught up in this.”
“I’m not talking about the kidnapping, Wilder. I’m talking about finding out about you.”
“I’m going to go make a fresh pot of coffee,” Vic said, inching toward the doorway.
Del cast Vic a pleading glance. She could step in here, make Noelle behave, make him behave. Her natural serenity was like a buffer between him and his daughter. Before Vic disappeared, she mouthed the words You’ll be fine.
He wasn’t so sure. “First of all,” he said as Noelle plopped down onto the couch, “you’re going to have to call me something besides Wilder. Like it or not I am your old man.” He fidgeted a little. “You don’t have to call me daddy, if you don’t want to.”
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