by Ruth Langan
“The hero?” He spun around, and the fury in his eyes startled her. “Do you think I want my nephew growing up believing that myth?”
“Myth?”
“Yeah. The myth of the good guys and the bad guys. The noble cop who always triumphs over the villain. That’s the kind of myth I grew up believing. Those are the stories my grandfather fed me from the time I was old enough to hear. Now I know better. And so will Jason’s son one day. What will happen when he learns the truth?”
Alex kept her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding. “Just what is the truth, Grant?”
“The truth? You want the truth?” He turned toward her and leaned his palms down on the table so that his eyes were level with hers. “Here’s your truth, Alex. Not all bad guys look like monsters. Sometimes they aren’t even old enough to shave. In my case the bad guy was just a kid. A sixteen-year-old kid.”
The room was so silent, the only thing Alex could hear was the painful drumming of her heartbeat in her temples. She drew in a breath. “Did you know that when you shot him?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t see the shooter. He’d taken refuge behind a smashed car. He was part of a stolen car ring we’d been tracking. Jason had already taken a bullet to the chest. I knew it was bad. I just didn’t know how bad. I pushed him aside and took the second bullet. Then I got a clear shot at the shooter, and I took it. And I killed a kid. I found out later his name was Wayne Kendrick. He was just sixteen years old.”
Alex stood up, aware that her legs were trembling. In fact, her entire body was trembling. “I don’t understand. Why are you beating yourself up about this? Wayne Kendrick may have been only sixteen, but he was old enough to fire a gun. It was your life or his.”
His voice was low, angry. “You’re right. You don’t understand. Maybe I haven’t made myself clear on this. I’m a crack shot. One of the best on the force. If I’d wanted, I could have taken Wayne out without killing him. I could have put him out of commission with a single shot in the leg, the shoulder, the arm. But not our hero. I broke the first rule of combat. I let myself get hot. Too hot to make a rational judgment. He’d wounded my partner. The bullet I’d taken was causing my body to go numb. I was afraid I’d pass out before I could end things and get Jason to a hospital. I didn’t want to take the time to do it right. So I took the easy way out. I killed him with a single shot.” His shoulders slumped. “And now a boy who had his whole life ahead of him has run out of time.”
And there it was. At long last, she understood the depth of his pain. This knowledge had apparently been eating away at his soul until he’d become obsessed with it.
Alex took a deep breath, and thought about what she could say that might ease his suffering. She chose her words carefully.
“We all make choices in this life, Grant. Choices that bring with them consequences. I’m sure the doctors you’ve consulted have already pointed out the obvious. This boy with the gun, this sixteen-year-old Wayne Kendrick, had every intention of using it on anyone who got in his way. Your partner was only the first. If you hadn’t stopped him, there would have been others. Maybe the next one would have been your sister. Or a helpless child. Would you then fault the next cop who came along and managed to stop him with a bullet?”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that his death is on my hands.” He held them out, palms up, staring at them as if expecting to see bloodstains.
“You stopped him the only way you could. Maybe you didn’t take the time to do it right. Maybe, if you could do it over, you’d take more time. But you had only a single second to make a life-and-death decision. None of this was your choice, Grant. The boy was the one who started the chain of events that ended with his death.”
He heard the words. They were the same words he’d heard countless times before, when he’d made the rounds of doctors trained to help people in his profession deal with the trauma of death. But he heard only one word. Boy. It was a boy he’d killed; not a man. Not a monster.
“You say we all make choices. My problem is that I chose to be a police officer and carry a lethal weapon.”
Alex hated the tears that sprang to her eyes. Hated the fact that her voice trembled with them. “You’d be surprised how many people in this world are grateful that you and others like you are willing to make that choice.”
He lifted his gaze to look at her. Really look at her. And he could see that she had spoken from the heart. He saw the tears shimmering on her lashes. Heard the way her voice quivered with emotion.
“Even knowing that I took the life of that boy?”
She walked closer until she was standing in front of him. “I suppose this grief, this horror over what you did, is what sets you apart, Grant. It’s why the elected officials, and the men and women with whom you serve, wanted to honor you. They know that you aren’t just an enforcer of laws. You feel a sense of responsibility for the people. All the people. Even those who make the wrong choices.”
She lifted her hands to his shoulders. Her voice was hushed. “Maybe that’s why I’ve come to care about you so deeply. Because you’re still able, after all you’ve seen, after all you’ve been through, to grieve for the very boy who took your best friend’s life.”
His dark gaze met and held hers. “You…care about me?”
She nodded, too moved to speak.
He felt the tight band that had been around his heart all these long days and weeks begin to loosen its hold. Just a little. Enough to allow him to breathe.
“Even now, knowing all you do about me, you care about me?”
She lifted herself on tiptoe to press her lips to his. “Let me show you how much I care, Grant.”
She was offering him everything he’d been hoping for. All these days and nights of wanting her. Now, finally, his for the taking. But suddenly he understood old Lem’s warning. That sly old man had seen this coming.
The knowledge that he had the ability to hurt her was like a knife to the heart.
Instead of returning her kiss he took a step back. His voice was rough with impatience. “You don’t want to be here with me right now.”
She couldn’t keep the shock and pain from slipping into her tone. “Why?”
He gave out a hiss of anger as he struggled to control the emotions simmering inside him. He had to do what he could to see that she didn’t get hurt again. Otherwise, he’d be no better than that wounded fox.
His tone trembled with repressed fury. “I want to be alone now. I want you to leave me. Right now. This minute.”
Chapter 10
The room had become so silent, Alex could actually hear her own breathing. Shallow and uneven as she looked at Grant. And her heartbeat, thundering in her ears.
Behind him the log crackled on the fire. But he said not a word. Only his eyes revealed his feelings. Eyes that smoldered.
“I don’t understand. Wasn’t all of this…” she swept a hand to indicate the table, the food, the candles “…intended as a seduction?”
“That was before.” He looked away. It was easier than looking at her because when he did, he felt a pain around his heart that was worse than anything he’d suffered before. “Now I don’t think I’d be capable of sweet words and gentle seduction. There’s too much darkness in me. I’m afraid if I touch you now, I’ll hurt you. Right this minute, all I want to do is ravish you.”
“I’ve never been…ravished.” She laughed lightly as she touched a hand to his chest and felt the way his heart suddenly jolted. “I think I might like it.”
He absorbed a series of tremors that had his nerves scrambling and his mind screaming with need. He thought about crushing her in his arms. Instead he fisted his hands at his sides. “This isn’t a game, Alex. There’s a part of me you don’t know. A part of me I don’t want you to know. Unless you leave right now, I’m going to do things to you you’ve never even thought about.”
She saw the way his muscles bunched and tensed as he clenched and unclenched hi
s fists at his sides. It was the most amazing thing to watch the flames leap into his eyes even while he fought for control. Watching the battle he was waging with himself excited her. Aroused her even more.
“I think I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Do you?” His eyes narrowed. “You think I’m some sort of hero. But I’m not, Alex. I’m just a man. Not a very nice one at the moment. I’d want to be gentle, but I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I’ve waited too long. Wanted you too long.” His tone lowered with passion. “Would it shock you to know that right now I want to tear your clothes off you? I want to touch you, taste you. Everywhere.”
At the intensity of his words she shivered.
He saw fear leap into her eyes before she blinked. But to her credit, she didn’t back away. Instead, she ran a tongue over her dry lips and brought one hand to his cheek.
She felt a muscle begin to work in his jaw. “I think I’m a little afraid.”
“You should be.”
“Not of you. Of myself. Of how I’ll react if I stay.”
“Then turn and run, Alex. And never look back.”
She brushed her thumb over his mouth and heard his little intake of breath. “It’s too late for that. I’ve never run from anything in my life. And I’m not about to start now.” She drew herself close, until their bodies were touching. Then she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “I’m staying, Grant. No matter what.”
For the space of a heartbeat he waited, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Then, as the truth of her words sank in, his arms came around her, pressing her to the length of him while his mouth savaged hers. There would be time later for gentleness. Time to taste, to savor. For now, all he could do was take and take, like a man too-long starved.
Stunned, she made a sound in her throat that might have been a sob or a cry. It was swallowed by another kiss that had her world tilting, her mind wiped clean of every thought except one. She never wanted him to stop.
Her arms encircled his neck and she offered her mouth willingly. But instead of kissing her he drove her back against the wall and lifted her until she was wrapped around him. Her head swam as she realized this was exactly as he’d warned her. No gentle seduction. Nor would he allow some sweet surrender. Instead, what he wanted, what he demanded of her, was complete participation.
His lips covered her savagely. And all the while, his hands moved down her back, lighting fires wherever they touched.
His hands were almost bruising as they cupped her hips. “I can’t make you any promises.”
“I’m not asking for any.”
She wouldn’t, he thought. She was too open, too generous.
Starving, he lowered his mouth to hers. There was such hunger in him. Such need. But the more he took, the more she offered, until he groaned and filled himself with the taste of her.
He knew that without the press of the wall behind her they would already be on the floor, where he feared he would take her like a savage. But he couldn’t seem to stop. He wanted more. He wanted all.
“Maybe we should…slow things down.” She whispered the words against his mouth, which only managed to drive him closer to the edge.
In one smooth motion he pulled the tunic over her head and tossed it aside. Underneath she wore silk. He hadn’t expected to discover that this simple woman, who dressed in denims and boots, would pamper herself with such luxury. It was surprising. And deeply erotic.
He slipped one silken strap from her shoulder to expose the soft swell of her breast. Then he bent his lips to the spot. She was helpless to do more than sigh as his lips and fingertips moved over her, arousing her to a fever pitch.
He hated even this tiny barrier between them, and with one tug easily disposed of the piece of silk. Now he could see her skin, as cool and pale as cream. With an animal sound low in his throat he took one breast into his mouth.
The shock of it swept through her with all the force of an icy blade, piercing her to the very core. With each tug of that warm, clever mouth, she took another knife thrust, until she was nearly overcome with sensations.
He moved from one breast to the other, driving both Alex and himself to the edge of madness.
How had she lived so long without this? she wondered, as he slipped a finger under the waistband of her leggings and tugged them from her. They drifted to the floor as he found her, hot and moist, and brought her to the first sudden, shocking peak.
She was so stunned her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if not for his hands holding her firmly.
“Grant.” His name was torn from her lips.
Frantic to touch him as he was touching her, she unbuttoned his shirt and skimmed it aside to run her hands over his back. She thrilled to the feel of firm flesh, and beneath it, the layers of muscle.
“Say that again.” His eyes, steady on hers, burned with a strange light.
“What?” She had to struggle to concentrate. The feel of that wonderful body against hers had her mind spinning out of control.
“My name. Say it, Alex.”
“Grant.” She smiled then, and brushed her lips across his jaw. “Grant. Grant. Oh, hold on to me.”
“Don’t worry.” He ran nibbling kisses across her cheek and jaw, and lower still to her throat until she trembled in his arms. “I’m not letting go.”
He couldn’t get enough of her. Of those warm, perfect lips. Of those small, firm breasts. Of all that hot, steamy flesh that seemed to melt in his hands.
She smelled of soap and shampoo, and some light fragrance that reminded him of evergreen. The thought of devouring her right here on the floor, inch by glorious inch, had the blood throbbing in his loins.
She was sighing, then sobbing, as he dropped to his knees before her and took her on a wild, dizzying climb.
“Grant.” His name came out on a shudder as she felt herself tremble, then soar to new heights.
She was wonderful to watch. It was as though she’d never experienced any of this before. She made him feel powerful. She made him feel new. She made him feel whole.
He brought his mouth back up her body to claim her lips once more.
She reached trembling hands to the fasteners at his waist, frantic to see him. To touch him. She wanted no more barriers between them.
When her fingers fumbled he helped her until he’d managed to kick aside the last of his clothes. Then he dragged her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.
“Think we can make it to a bed?”
She laughed, that wonderful velvet sound that always seemed to wrap itself around him. “You want a bed, do you? All right. We can try.”
He lifted her into his arms and started out of the great room. But before he’d taken half a dozen steps, he had to pause to cover her mouth with his. One greedy kiss led to another, and they staggered before he found the strength to tear his mouth from hers and attempt a few more steps.
They were laughing when they made it to his room. It was closer than hers by a few steps. At the moment every step seemed like a mile.
He kicked open the door, then strode across the room to lower her to the bed before he joined her.
“I didn’t think we’d make it.” She rolled over him and sent his pulse into overdrive when she began running hot, wet kisses across his chest, then lower, to the flat planes of his stomach.
“You’re killing me.” Half-mad with desire, he rolled them both over and trailed his mouth down the length of her body and back.
The world beyond had slipped away. Outside a snowstorm raged and howled, but it was nothing compared to the storm of passion raging between them. All they knew were the wild, frantic touches, the heady taste, the dark, musky scent of desire. It clogged their throat. Blurred their vision. Clouded their minds. And drove them closer and closer to the brink of insanity.
And still there was no relief.
Grant felt himself slipping toward the edge of madness and tried to slow down. But he knew it was futile. Th
ey were both caught up in a tide of passion that was sweeping them along with all the force of a blizzard.
Still, he had to try. He kissed her long and slow and deep, and allowed the taste of her to seep into him. “So clean. You taste as fresh as new snow.”
“And you taste…dangerous.” She lifted a hand to his face, to trace a finger over the curve of his brow. “That first night, when you dragged me onto this bed, I thought you were a hit man.”
“Did you?” That brought a laugh from deep in his throat. “The first time I heard your name, Alexandra, I thought it the most beautiful sound in the world.”
“You did?” She smiled.
He nodded. “And I wanted this. Only this.” Calling on all his control, he forced himself to be gentle as he ran soft, nibbling kisses over her face, and down the long, smooth column of her throat.
“And I wanted this.” She drew his face to hers until their mouths met for a slow, lingering kiss.
“Alexandra.” He took the time to study the way she looked, her skin flushed from his kisses, her eyes heavy-lidded with passion.
“I never liked my name before. I suppose that’s why I insisted on being called Alex.”
“Then I may have to call you Alexandra from now on. Because the name is as beautiful as you.”
His hands tangled in her hair while his mouth explored her neck, her throat, her shoulder. But when his lips moved lower she sighed out a breath of pleasure.
He loved the way she looked, her body soft and pliant, her eyes glazed with pleasure. But as the pleasure grew and became more intense, so did the heat, the need. As his hands moved over her she began to writhe and moan beneath him.
“I’ve wanted you for such a long time.” He whispered the words against her mouth, then inside her mouth, as he devoured.
“I’ve wanted you, too.”
Her admission only fueled his hunger. With lips and teeth and tongue he had them both spinning out of control.
Against her mouth his voice was harsh with frustration. “If I don’t take you soon, I’m going to explode.”