He stopped at the hall. “I’m sorry I’ve kicked you out of your bed.” As he said the words he realized that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. “No guest room upstairs, I take it.”
She turned to face him, her hands still clutching protectively at her arms. “I never planned on having any.”
“Rae—” He broke off, needing desperately to say something to her and knowing that anything he came up with would likely only make things worse. He hadn’t felt this inadequate since he was fourteen and had realized that his father, the only parent he’d ever known, was never coming back.
He turned his head away, took one last look out the huge window at her mountain. If only things were different. If only …
He barely heard his own sigh. A fool’s wish.
Her soft intake of breath jerked his gaze back to her.
“What?” he demanded.
“For a moment there you looked so—” She stopped abruptly, as if she hadn’t actually meant to speak.
“So what, Rae?”
After a long moment she looked away. “Nothing. Good night, McCullough.”
McCullough. God how he hated that. He had already taken several steps in her direction when he realized what he was doing and stopped. What had she seen when she’d looked at him? What had he revealed? It was all he could do to remain still and silent.
He wasn’t going to find out. He wasn’t going to go anywhere near her. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.
Pain that had nothing to do with his injuries welled up inside him. When the tension began to be unbearable, he finally found his voice. “Good night, Rae,” he said quietly, and left while he still could.
Rae took small comfort in the fact that McCullough looked as tired as she felt the following morning. The pup had kept her up all night with his whining. She’d understood how the little guy felt, and had contemplated joining him more than once.
McCullough was already seated at the table in the kitchen with two steaming mugs in front of him. He slid one over to her as she sat down. She noticed he’d taken the bandage off his hand.
He hadn’t showered yet. His T-shirt was rumpled as if he’d slept in it, and his short dark hair was standing out as if he’d spent the entire night raking his fingers through it. She caught herself staring at his stubbled jaw and weary eyes a second or two longer than necessary, and dropped her attention to the brown depths of her coffee.
“I need to contact some people about the wolf pup,” she said after a moment. “It’s not fair to him to keep him here much longer. The National Zoo has a compound not too far from here where they quarantine animals and do research.”
Jarrett looked up at her with honest interest. “Maybe that’s where its mother came from in the first place.”
“Its mother?” Rae stared at him in surprise, then suspicion. “When I tracked, I didn’t see any signs of another animal.”
“It was at least five miles from here. And don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled. “I didn’t kill her.” He didn’t add that it was only because the she-wolf had beat him to it, nor did he mention his original plans for the pup. One look in her eyes told him it was unnecessary anyway. “In the same position, you’d have done the same thing.”
“Two years ago, yes. Today, I don’t know.”
The weight of the decision she’d made the night before crashed in on him without warning. He’d spent most of the night shoring up his resolve. They weren’t lovers, or even friends. They were professionals, dammit. And that was how he’d make certain they behaved, even if it killed him.
“Well, I damn well hope that if it comes down to getting the information across or saving some animal, your priorities will be straight on this one, Gannon.”
She looked him dead in the eye and made him feel every bit like the complete bastard he was being. “I said I would do this for you. Don’t you dare question my priorities.”
I said I would do this for you. For you …
Her words echoed in his head, taunting him to stray from the strict mental path he’d put himself on. The temptation to read all sorts of things into those words was almost overwhelming. Maintaining the hard-line position was a must now more than ever. Especially when he was having such a difficult time restraining himself from reaching across the table and smoothing the tangled hair from her face. He wanted to pull her into his arms, onto his lap, where he could console her, soothe her, promise her he’d never let her go, never let her put herself in danger again.
“No contact with the zoo,” he said, ignoring her outburst. “No outsiders. No undue attention to you or this area. Not with two killers this close.”
“Whoever comes to pick him up won’t have to enter the house or even know that you’re here. I’ll tell them an alternate version of the truth. I found him wandering in the woods and brought him in.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned toward him. “You can’t release him back to the wild now. You might as well put a gun to his head.”
Jarrett said nothing.
Rae stared at him for several seconds, then finally sighed in disgust and pushed away from the table. As she stood she said, “I’ll do my part. But that pup didn’t ask to be involved in this any more than I did. I made my choice. And since he apparently has little worth to you, I’ll make his choice for him. Make your plans, do what you have to, but make sure he’s taken care of until I get back and can contact the proper authorities.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Planting her fists in the middle of the table, she lunged at him, eyes suddenly blazing. “Your best isn’t good enough, McCullough. I want your word. I won’t be responsible for any unnecessary pain or suffering—human or animal. You got that?”
He looked at her, her passion and concern so vibrant, it was like a living, breathing entity in the space between them. What would going back into the dark do to that part of her?
“You have my word.”
Without so much as a nod, Rae straightened and picked up her mug. She walked to the sink and dumped her coffee, then turned back to face him.
“My office is upstairs,” she said, glancing at the clock over the stove. “If you don’t think it’s too early, why don’t we send that transmission.”
Jarrett simply downed his remaining coffee and stood. Using his cane, he moved to the sink, both relieved and disappointed when Rae stepped out of his way and walked to the door. He rinsed his mug, then walked toward her. “Lead the way.”
She headed down the hallway to a door opposite the laundry room.
She was wearing old sweatpants and an oversize sweatshirt that revealed none of the slight curves he now knew she had. Her hair was damp and combed back off her face, she wore no makeup, her only scent was that of her shampoo. And she had his complete and total attention. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t ignore his body’s reaction to her.
He tried to focus on the information they were about to send. Instead, all he could think about as they passed the bedroom was how easy it would be to catch up with her, wrap his hands around her slim hips, pull her back against him, and take a detour for, say, three or four hours.
Rae opened the narrow door and revealed a steep set of bare wooden stairs that wound up into bright light. Jarrett moved in behind her, tightening his grip on his cane and his control. His nearness prevented her from turning without pushing right up against him, thereby hiding his now very visible reaction to her. He’d be lying if he said he was glad she moved up the stairs instead.
He figured he had about ten seconds to get himself under control. Either that or he had to distract her. Lord knew she distracted him.
“Is the entire upper floor your office?” he asked, taking the stairs slowly to favor his thigh and his still flagging strength. He tore his gaze from her tight backside peeking out from underneath her sweatshirt and took the next step even slower.
“No,” she answered without turning. “The space is really meant for storage. The angle of the
ceiling makes it sort of useless for anything else. But I needed a place to keep track of business and I didn’t want to cram it into a corner of the shop.” She stepped onto the landing and waited for him to ascend the last several stairs.
Jarrett had to duck his head to enter the long narrow room, since the door was set into the steeply angled wall of the A-frame. Busy watching the space over his head, he didn’t see the sharp corner of the desk just inside the door. The sharp corner hit him right in the thigh.
Rae yelled, “Jarrett, watch out!” at the same instant as the corner dug directly into his freshly bandaged wound. Swearing, he clutched at his thigh. He lost his balance and fell just as Rae was moving to brace his weight away from the desk.
They landed in a tangled heap on the woven rug covering the floor.
Gritting his teeth against the daggers of pain shooting up his leg, Jarrett braced his weight on his strong side, trying to lift himself off Rae. He sucked in a breath as he tugged his leg to the side. His bruised ribs and shoulder also protested loudly.
“Be careful,” Rae cautioned needlessly. “Hold still and let me slide out from under you.”
A groan that had nothing to do with the pain he was in slipped past his lips. He looked down at her. “I guess I just can’t help falling for you,” he said before he thought better of it. Before he thought at all.
EIGHT
Rae actually felt her jaw drop as she stared at him in shock.
The tiny twinkle bravely emerging from his gray eyes died swiftly at her reaction. But instead of the cold, aloof mask she expected, his expression turned wary, sort of defensive. He was embarrassed!
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked gruffly.
“You made a joke,” she replied. And you’re embarrassed by it, she added to herself. If she hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of her, she’d have laughed. His acute discomfort should have been hilarious, but that didn’t explain the poignant little tug near her heart.
“I plow you down twice in two days, make some smart-ass remark, and you act like I just grew a third eye.”
She curled her fingers against the sudden unaccountable need to reach up and smooth the deep grooves etched on either end of his tightly compressed mouth. “I looked at you like that because you knocked me down twice and then said something human. Something funny.”
Amid the denial and derision battling for control of his expression, Rae didn’t miss the flicker of confusion. It’s okay, she wanted to tell him.
But of course, she couldn’t, because it wasn’t okay. Not for him. He couldn’t allow himself to be human. Not if he wanted to continue succeeding in the superhuman role he’d created for himself.
She stiffened as, from the corner of her eye, she saw him lift a hand toward her face. He must have noticed, because his hand froze an inch or two away. She found herself slowly drawn into his solemn gaze, captured as surely as if he’d held her chin in his grasp.
“You’re wrong, you know,” he whispered roughly.
Rae knew a moment of pure panic. There was danger here. Not all of her instincts had dulled. The ones she had left were clamoring for her to pull away, to stand up, to get back to business. Something hot and promising lit the depths of his eyes. Underneath those icy shards was smoke.
And where there’s smoke …
“What?” she heard herself ask, helplessly drawn down the path to her own destruction and not at all certain she cared. “What am I wrong about?”
He let his hand close the distance, and at the first touch of his rough, warm skin, she knew the answer.
“About me not being human,” he said in a voice so low, she found herself leaning closer to hear it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been made to feel as painfully human in my life as I do around you.”
Hardly aware of the action, she pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand and rubbed. Once. Twice. The smoke swiftly disappeared, swallowed by the bottomless black centers of his eyes. She felt as if she’d been pulled right in after it, sucked in deep and held there, trapped in some swirling vortex from which nothing escaped.
His fingers curved, tightened. The blunt tips pressed into her skin, pushed past her ear, and slid into her still-damp hair. When he raked them across the base of her skull, she gasped, arching into his touch as a skin-tightening sensation prickled her neck and raced down her spine and arms until even her fingertips tingled.
Fingertips that instantly felt empty. She needed to feel him, to build on the sensations rocketing through her, to intensify them. The urge was so instinctive, she hardly realized she’d lifted her hand to his face until the spiky ends of his shadow beard scraped the pads of her fingers.
A sound, dark, deep, and guttural, broke through the rush of labored breathing. Hers, his, she didn’t care. Didn’t care because in that instant he tightened his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. Her craving for the almost narcotic effect of his touch was brought hard and fast to a level that was almost painful for the dark promises it made.
Rae lost herself in the now almost black depths of his eyes, the scent of him, the heat of him, the feel of him filling almost all of her sensate needs. All but one.
Taste.
Now she understood his need the day before, when he’d taken her fingers in his mouth. Only she wanted more, much more. She moved to take what she needed, but he was faster.
Just before his mouth closed over hers, she could have sworn she heard him whisper, “Catch me, Rae.”
She had no time to wonder or analyze. His mouth, lips, and tongue were too busy fulfilling each and every promise made by his eyes. He wasn’t gentle, but then, she didn’t expect or want him to be.
He pressed her back against the floor, his broad palms moving to either side of her face, holding her a willing captive as he plundered her mouth. He took and took, and she gave without restraint. He slanted his mouth and dove deeper with his tongue, as if trying to reach down and taste the very essence of her. The muscles in her belly and thighs tightened against the heat curling there.
Groaning softly, Jarrett left her lips and slowly moved his mouth over her chin, and down to the hollow at the base of her throat. Rae slid her hands from his shoulders up into the thick silk of his hair as she held him against her. He pulled at the collar of her sweatshirt with his teeth and, at the same time, slid one hand to her waist, excruciatingly avoiding contact with her breast.
Her body shifted under his, her hips twisting sinuously, aching to find sweet relief, pressing harder at the first touch of his warm hand on her bare skin. She struggled for control as he slid his hand upward.
Sweet God, please touch me, was the only thought she was capable of forming. And then he did.
She arched violently against him, her hips pressing into his hard-muscled stomach. She whimpered as his roughened fingers made a slow, torturous discovery of one breast, teasing her nipple to a painful erection, before moving to the other and doing the same.
Then his hand was gone, and most of the weight of his body. Only when her eyes flew open in protest did she realize she’d closed them. She clutched his head. “No, please,” she begged hoarsely, without an ounce of shame.
“Shhh,” he said, then began to push up her sweat-shirt. “I want to taste you.” His voice was darker, deeper than she’d ever heard it. “I want to see you.”
His request coincided with the first brush of air against her skin. It might as well have been an arctic blast, for it had the same effect on her.
“Stop!”
Despite the incongruity of her demands, Jarrett stilled instantly. She shoved at him, but he didn’t budge an inch. He also made no move to lower her shirt.
“Why?” he asked, his gaze directed at the pale sliver of skin he’d exposed.
Rae’s emotions were a maelstrom. She wanted him, wanted his touch, wanted the pleasure and the potent release he would surely bring. Wanted him to the point of physical pain.
Bu
t her defenses were old and solid. Mindless as the passion that had flared between them seemed to be, she knew the power of it was real and profoundly deep. It had to, for her to come this far so quickly. But it wasn’t powerful enough to break through this wall. She doubted anything, or anyone, would ever be that strong.
“Why, Rae?” he asked again. He pressed a kiss on the skin above her navel. It was reverent and gentle, but also hot and openmouthed. That one kiss said more about the man he was than anything she could have put into words.
“Because I—” She broke off, so affected by his touch, she faltered badly.
When the moment spun out and she didn’t go on, Jarrett looked up. The honest concern shadowing his face made her eyes burn with tears she fought to contain.
“What are you afraid of, Rae?” He shifted, pulling his body higher, purposely brushing his chest along hers, pressing the still-rock-hard need he had into her hip.
A tiny sound, both moan and whimper, escaped her before she could stop it. Neither could she stop her hips from shifting, seeking more than a fleeting press of the stiff length of him that would so perfectly satisfy the urgent demands her body was still making.
He cradled her head, forcing her to look at him. The ice was gone; his eyes were all smoke.
“Is it me?” His voice was hoarse. “I’m too rough.”
She saw guilt then. It tore at her worse than the concern. Her hands flew to his face. “No,” she said swiftly, forcefully. “I want your honesty. Your body’s honesty. I didn’t want you to hold back.”
“Then be honest with me, Rae.” He pushed her hair from her damp forehead, the gentle motion at odds with the raw need underlying his demand. “And don’t give me a list of the reasons why this is wrong. We both know them all and we’re just as obviously incapable of listening to them.”
Surrender the Dark Page 10