No One Needs to Know

by Debbi Rawlins

  Both of his hands, so strong and real, went to her bare waist and she came back to earth. He undid the buttons of her jeans as if he were popping champagne corks, and the image made her laugh.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You. A bubble bath.”

  Just his smile did startling things to her. “Exciting, huh?”

  “You have no idea. I have recurring dreams of taking long, luxurious soaks in perfectly scented water.”

  “Did they include a devilishly handsome man tending to your every need?”

  She sighed as she leaned against him. “They will from now on.”

  “Good,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “Keep that thought.” Pulling away, he turned off the water, then came back to finish his task.

  “I like that look.”

  She shook her head, not understanding.

  “You, just like that. Your jeans open, bare feet.”

  “My retro bra?”

  “Yes, even your retro bra. I want to get my camera, take a picture. I’d put it up on the inside of my locker.”

  She grinned, because it was such a sweet notion. “You’re a long way from locker rooms.”

  “I don’t know. I could go to a gym. I think I’d sign up for one if you’d be my pinup.”

  “Those kind of lockers are temporary.”

  His smile changed into something else. “And you’re for keeps.”

  She stopped. Stopped everything, including breathing, because he hadn’t meant... That would be ridiculous. Turning away, not wanting to see him wince at his mistake, she finished taking off her jeans.

  When she reached behind to unfasten her bra, he touched her hands, moving them down. His mouth went to the curve of her neck, where he brushed away the awkwardness with his cool lips and warm tongue.

  She let her bra slide down her arms, pool at her feet. His gentle hands cupped her, teased her nipples. She cocked her head to the side to give him all the room he wanted, and he kept up his delicious assault on the sensitive skin just below her ear.

  Her eyes opened—she hadn’t even realized they were closed. Now she was facing the mirror, but she couldn’t see herself or Tucker clearly. They were shapes in the steam, nothing specific and real, and wasn’t that perfect?

  Nothing real. This was the image she’d hang on to. The one that felt like a dream. Anything else was too dangerous.

  Tucker chose that moment to run his hand down her belly straight into her panties. Dreams be damned. His finger found the precise spots that would give her the most pleasure, and he played her like a Stradivarius.

  Part of what made her body thrum was listening to his breathing change. Deepen. Grow harsh and insistent as she trembled. Two fingers pushed inside her, though the building pressure of his circling thumb was what got to her the most.

  Standing was becoming an issue. She reached behind her and grabbed what she could. Lucky for her, it was mostly his butt. God, the thickness of the denim was unfair. She wanted skin...she wanted to grip him with both hands and feel those muscles. Mark him so that later, when they were in bed, she could run her tongue where she’d scratched.

  “Jesus,” he whispered. The pumping stopped as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his trapped erection against her bottom. He hadn’t even taken off her panties, and she was going to come.

  She ground back into him, even though it cost her the pressure of his thumb, the steady buildup of intensity. Didn’t matter, his groan was worth it.

  He bent lower again, and this time, he wasn’t teasing. Not with his fingers and not with his mouth. There were no kisses. Just his voice. Closer than anything, almost inside her head as he whispered, “Come for me, sweetheart. Come on. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Do it. I’ve got you.” His warm breath clipped her ear. “Just let go. Let go.”

  Every muscle strained. Then she shattered. But he was there to catch all the pieces.

  * * *

  TUCKER WAS ABOUT AS HARD as he’d ever been, but there was no way on this earth he was going to disrupt Annie’s bliss. She could barely stand, which he took full credit for, and the bathtub was ready and waiting. He was going to massage her neck, even though there was no really comfortable place to sit. But then there didn’t seem to be much comfort at all in his immediate future. Which was okay. He wasn’t the one who’d had to deal with that joke of a shower in her farce of a cabin. He hadn’t given up every luxury, every piece of himself, to hide from an uncertain future.

  He’d tried to think what he would have done in her situation, at least what he knew of it, and he doubted strongly that he would have devoted himself to the care and feeding of abandoned animals.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, stirring as he pulled his hands from out of her panties. He’d made sure not to linger inside her after her orgasm, because she was sure to be sensitive and there was so much more of the night left. But it took a lot for him to stop petting her just below the line of her underwear.

  “Are you ready to get into the tub?”

  She nodded. Her arms dangled by her sides, her head lolled to the right. Even her eyes were half-lidded. “That was...”

  “Yes,” he said, kissing her lightly on the top of her shoulder. “Can you stand? Just for a minute. Let’s get those panties off so you can get in the tub.”

  “Ohhh. The bath. Yes. Okay.”

  He waited for a sign she intended to move at all. Finally, just when he was planning how he could carry her into the tub without causing a horrible mess, she shifted her weight from him to her own two feet. “There we go.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of standing on my own,” she said, awfully petulant for someone swaying as if she were drunk.

  “I am very aware of that fact, Ms. Sheridan. You are capable of so much.”

  She sniffed, then smiled. “Are you getting in the tub with me?”

  “Nope. That’s all yours.”

  “But what about...” She turned around and put her hand directly over his cock.

  He jerked back as if she’d burned him. “That’s fine. We’ll take care of that later. It’s your turn to relax.”

  “That’ll probably be gone by the time I’m done.”

  “It won’t be gone for long, I promise.”

  She sighed, and he could see her returning from her orgasmic haze. With a two-handed push and a hip wiggle, her underpants dropped to the floor. “That was better than any massage I’ve ever had at any spa.”

  “I should hope so. Damn. What spas do you go to?”

  “I wasn’t being literal.” She walked over to the tub and put her fingers in the water. The bubbles weren’t as plentiful as they had been, but there were still enough. “Perfect.”

  “Good. I’ll let you get settled, then come back to lend a hand.”

  She smiled as her eyes widened. “Like the one you just gave me?”

  “I was thinking of a shoulder rub, but I aim to please.”

  She left her bath and circled her arms around his neck. “This is the best vacation ever. You’re not what I expected.”

  “In what way did I disappoint?”

  “Funny.” She tipped her head back. “I mean. You’re still here. You’ve been generous, and I don’t mean just the check. Generous with yourself. Your time, your attention. I thought I’d show you paperwork, and take you for a tour. That would be that, and then we’d find out later whether Safe Haven made the grade. You were definitely a surprise.”

  “I guess we were both caught off guard. You’re not who I pictured, either.”

  “I’m just a hermit who’s found her calling.”

  He huffed. “Not even close.”

  She kissed him and there was no possibility his erection was going down a centimeter when he held her naked against him, when each kiss was better than the last.

  When he finally pulled back, it was with great reluctance. “Your water’s getting cold.”

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  One more peck on
the tip of her nose, and he moved out of her arms. “Go relax. Enjoy. Soak until you’re one big prune.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet...what an image.” She laughed and stuck a foot in the water.

  He left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He rested there for a minute, waiting for his cock to settle down.

  As soon as he checked his phone and saw that he had three voice mails, he cooled off. Too anxious to wait and listen, he checked the list of incoming numbers. None from George or Christian, only business associates. The pressure in his chest eased. It wasn’t as if he was expecting the other shoe to drop at any second. He knew Annie was safe. So was his mother. No reason to think anyone, criminal or otherwise, was lurking in the shadows.

  Only George knew Tucker had actually found Leanna and that they were in Montana. As far as Christian and Irene were concerned, they thought maybe Leanna had been located, no certainty there. He pondered for a moment, unable to recall if he’d told Irene he was in Montana. Shit. He couldn’t remember. He had a feeling he had told her, but she obviously hadn’t passed the information to Christian.

  Restless, he picked up his iPad. The amount of work piling up and the panic he sensed in Darren’s email was enough to put a damper on his mood under normal circumstances. Now it barely provided a distraction.

  This wasn’t like him. None of this. His original goal was met the moment he’d realized Annie was in fact Leanna Warner and found corroborating evidence. The next step should have been a phone call to the New York district attorney’s office and a return trip home.

  He hadn’t even been gone that long, which made no sense. He felt as though he’d known Annie for weeks. Longer. The connection with her had been fast and deep, unlike anything he’d experienced before.

  His unromantic soul had dismissed such a thing as possible. And yet here he was, having willingly put his life on hold. He’d written her a twenty-thousand-dollar personal check. That did not happen.

  He’d been raised to be cautious not only with money but with his trust, his admiration, his affection. She’d broken through all his barriers with no apparent effort.

  Looking at the bathroom door, imagining her soaking in the tub, eyes closed, the water lapping at her skin, he realized he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not that there wasn’t more work to do, because now that he had her, he wasn’t about to lose her to false identities and an overeager D.A.

  The thing with Christian wouldn’t be easy, though. Their relationship was already so muddled, and now with his mother pinning all her hopes for the future on winning her son back, Tucker had no idea what the outcome would be. It wouldn’t do him any good to keep beating himself up for being so intentionally blind to his brother’s connection to the embezzlement, but it was hard not to regret it. Not simply on his mother’s behalf, either. He would like to have a brother again, not a memory overshadowed with guilt.

  Now, all the blinders had to come off. He hoped there were extenuating circumstances and that Christian would walk away from this debacle with his reputation intact. Maybe he and Annie had both been duped somehow, or Christian had been the one coerced by bookies. What a mess.

  His gaze fell on his briefcase, the files for Leanna Warner locked safely inside. In a way, he had known Annie longer than a few days. He’d studied her past, learned who she’d been as a teenager. How honorably she’d conducted herself as an adult. He knew her better than he did Christian. Tucker wasn’t wrong about her. No doubt in his mind. The woman described in those files was exactly the one behind the bathroom door. Someone like her didn’t suddenly rip off charities.

  She was, however, a woman to whom he’d promised a shoulder rub, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. He put away the iPad. The real world would suck them back in soon enough.

  * * *

  ANNIE’S IDEA OF HEAVEN was made complete when Tucker took off his clothes. She’d even made sympathetic noises when he complained about how cold the bathtub rim tiles were on his ass as he settled himself behind her, his legs in the water on either side of her arms.

  But the true beauty of this moment of perfection didn’t hit until he began rubbing her neck. His technique was basic and effective. Mostly just hands on skin and pressing down on parts that hurt until they stopped hurting.

  Eyes closed and body floating on a sea of endorphins, she moaned as she let him have his way. It surprised her to find she’d been running her hands up and down his legs, because she didn’t remember starting. It was nice, though. He had great calf muscles.

  “Oh, right there,” she said, as his thumb went deep right next to her spine.

  “You should get more massages.”

  “I should also have my meals catered by Nobu, but that’s not going to happen, either.”

  He sighed as his magic fingers continued, sometimes gently, sometimes with true commitment. “Did you grow up in New York?”

  She nodded. “Queens.”

  “Ah.”

  “Lots of trains to the city.”

  “Huh. Where did you develop your love of horses?”

  “Books first. Then a pony at a birthday party. Don’t stop.”

  And he didn’t, until he’d worked out a particularly stubborn knot at the edge of her scapula. When he was allowed to move at his own discretion again, he said, “And after the pony?”

  “Central Park. They have stables. I started working there when I was sixteen.”

  “Wasn’t that quite a commute?”

  “For a guy from Dallas, you sure do know a lot about New York.”

  “Practically the whole world knows about New York. But I’ve been there quite a few times, and the foundation works with a sanctuary in Watkins Glen. I also do business with several companies that have their headquarters in Manhattan.”

  “Watkins Glen. I know that place.” She started to twist around but he urged her to stay facing forward. “They do a great job.”

  “They do.”

  “I worked at the stables so I could ride for free. I loved it. Loved them. I knew every inch of the bridle trail.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I never asked about what you did before Safe Haven. Were you working with horses?”

  She stilled, the euphoria of the last hour draining away, replaced with dread. “No. No horses. Just people. Who are much more complicated.” Squeezing his legs, she tilted her head up. “The water’s getting cold. What do you say we get warm in the shower, then crawl into that big king bed?”

  His smile assured her that her distraction technique had worked. She felt sure he hadn’t been snooping outside of regular curiosity. If he tried to find her on the internet, he’d find nothing—which in this day and age was suspicious in itself. The trick was to say enough without appearing cagey. She hated that she had to hide any part of herself from him.

  Thank goodness for the cold, because it let her hide her discomfort behind a fluffy towel and shivering. It wasn’t until he kissed her under the hot water of the shower that she was able to really relax. And to remember who she was dealing with here.

  He believed in her, and if that wasn’t the most amazing thing she’d ever been told, she didn’t know what else could be.

  She pulled him into a wet kiss, even though it turned out not to be her best idea, then continued kissing after they’d finished coughing. His hands were all over her, exactly where she wanted them, and now it was her turn. Not in the shower, though.

  After he shaved, he took over drying her hair. Dressed only in a white towel, he’d sat her down on the closed toilet and rubbed her gently but thoroughly. No man outside of a salon had ever done that for her before. There were so many firsts with Tucker.

  When he was satisfied, she’d run her fingers through the damp strands, knowing she would look like a scarecrow in the morning with nothing on hand to repair the damage. Not caring in the least, she led him to the bed, both of them naked and eager.

  He threw back the bedding, and they burrowed into the warmth of body he
at and soft sheets.

  She ran her hand all the way down his chest, lingering over a nipple, his hip bone. When she moved slightly to the right, she found his hardening penis waiting.

  He gasped when she ran her finger from the base to the crown.

  “You were right,” she said. “It didn’t take long.”

  He rubbed his smooth, shaved jaw over her cheek. “That’s completely your fault.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve been in trouble since we wrestled with Pinocchio. I’m sure you know that.”

  “I had a hint when we were patching each other up.”

  “Well, sure you did. We might not have smelled great, but we had chemistry from the start.”

  Grasping his shaft and learning the feel of him, she looked into his eyes, enjoying the effect her grip had on him. “You were very professional. Most of the time, anyway.”

  “Let’s not use that in the testimonials, okay?”

  She laughed, gave him a squeeze and slipped under the covers, wiggling until she’d lowered herself into position.

  “Oh, God,” he said.

  His voice was muffled, but not his enthusiasm. He grew harder as she started to stroke his shaft, slowly at first, learning, memorizing. She inhaled deeply, wanting his scent to imprint, against her better judgment.

  When she finally tasted him, a lick over the silky head, she felt his body jerk and heard his low moan. Another lick, and suddenly the bedding was thrown back, and he was reaching for her with one hand, trying to find a condom on the nightstand with the other.

  13

  TUCKER RESENTED THE BEAUTIFUL spring morning. Resented having to get out of bed, resented that she needed to get back to Safe Haven. That he had to make his own plans to return home. While they were still in Kalispell, there was no way he’d drive them back to Safe Haven before Annie had breakfast, and more. The in-room coffee hadn’t been nearly enough for her. But then, the energy boost was necessary after spectacular wake-up sex.