by Jill Shalvis
“You should have told me all this from the beginning.”
“I did not know if I could trust you! But I do now,” she said softly, knowing she was looking at him with her heart in her eyes, but she couldn’t help it.
He seemed decidedly less than thrilled with her proclamation. “Don’t trust anyone, especially me.”
“But I have told you everything now. And you have told me everything.”
He said nothing.
“Rick? We can trust each other now, right?”
He didn’t look at her. “I’ll help you find her.”
“Thank—”
“For Mitch,” he clarified.
“But...” Just that fast, her relief faded. “Not for me.”
“Damn it.” In one explosive movement, he surged to his feet and paced the room. When his gaze landed on her, his eyes softened for one brief flash before shuttering again. “You’re still shaking. Stop it.”
“I am trying.”
Rick swore again, in fluent Portuguese this time, before stepping into her adjoining bathroom and turning on the shower. Storming back into her bedroom, he stood before the bed, hands on his hips. “Get in the hot shower before you go further into shock and I have to get you to a hospital.”
“I do not—”
“You’ve got blood all over you, Nina. You’re getting in if I have to haul you in there myself.”
The thought of standing up, then removing her clothes and getting into the shower seemed like such a huge effort. She was still contemplating it when he scooped her up in his arms and deposited her in the quickly steaming bathroom.
When she just stood there, he let out a growl of frustration, then quickly and efficiently started stripping her. First her shoes, then her stockings, which he had to slip his hands up her skirt to get to. As he worked them down his jaw tightened. “Are you going to help?”
Automatically her hands went to the buttons on her blouse, but they already were open. It took her a moment to remember Rick had spread her blouse apart to check for injuries. It slipped off her shoulders, and at the same time he tugged at her skirt and slip.
In the mirror she caught a glimpse of herself wearing nothing but a bra and panties, and it shocked her. Her cheeks were flushed, her nipples pebbled, straining against the lace of her bra.
Rick was kneeling at her feet, staring up at her with the hottest look of pure hunger she’d ever seen. “I hope to God you can take it from here,” he muttered, coming to his feet and backing away, hands shoved into his pockets.
She shivered, and because it wasn’t with shock, she turned her back, holding her breath, wondering if he’d leave, or if he’d press close and do as she more than half wanted and touch her.
The bathroom door shut, giving her the answer to that question.
Alone, she finished undressing and stepped into the shower, standing beneath the spray, her body pulsing.
The water turned tepid, then icy before she finally cooled down enough to get out.
* * *
WITH HIS BODY fully aroused, and his thoughts in the gutter as far as one Nina Monteverde was concerned, Rick paced the floor of the condo, listening to the shower.
She’d told him everything she knew, or so she claimed.
Oddly enough, he believed her. That wasn’t what bothered him.
He hadn’t told her everything.
She’d been in shock, he told himself, she needed time.
A bunch of garbage.
He’d held back for purely selfish reasons. Self-defense. If he kept something to himself, she’d be good and furious, along with deeply hurt. She’d hate him.
And with that hatred, nothing could ever come of this ridiculous attraction between them.
We can trust each other, she’d said.
God, the open, warm hope in her eyes when she’d said that. When she learned the truth, that only one of them had come clean with the other, and it hadn’t been him, she’d look at him with her heart all over her face.
Her hurt heart.
He should have told her, before her shower, where she was probably right this very second soaping up, running her hands over the body he couldn’t get out of his head.
When his cell phone rang, he leaped for it, grateful for the diversion from his own torturous thoughts.
It was Mitch. “Just got your message.”
“Where have you been?” Rick stared at the bathroom door. “I called you last night.”
“Yeah, well, things are a bit wild here. I resigned.”
“From the FBI?”
“Yeah. I’ve been swamped going through debriefing and finishing up files.” His voice lowered. “What have you got?”
“Plenty.”
The shower stopped. Rick pictured Nina, dripping wet and sleek and perfect, stepping out of the stall. Pictured her opening the bathroom door and giving that just-for-him smile that seemed to be able to tip his heart on its side. Pictured her opening her arms and her own heart.
To him.
Only he didn’t deserve that or her, and he had no one to blame but his own fears. Wasn’t that a laugh?
Big, bad, tough Rick Singleton afraid of a woman.
“Rick?”
So much for not getting personally involved in a case. So much for not letting anyone touch him or his emotions.
He was an idiot.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he said into the phone. “The friend I told you about? Her name is Jolene Daniels. She might still be in Texas. I want to fly out of here and go talk to her.”
“You think she’ll lead you to Terry?”
“I know she will.”
“Jolene Daniels...Dallas...nothing.” Rick could hear Mitch flipping pages, probably of a phone book. “San Antonio...nope. Here! Perfect. Got her,” he said. “She’s in Houston.”
Rick scribbled her address down.
“I want to go with you,” Mitch said.
“Fine. I’ll leave tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest.” He kept his eye on the door. If Nina did come out, naked by some miracle, he would simply close his eyes.
He would not, under any circumstances, get caught by temptation. He would not sleep with her.
He would not multiply his sins against her.
Nina did indeed open the door. Surrounded by steam, covered in a white fluffy towel, she looked like the sweetest, sexiest, most amazing woman he’d ever seen. Her chestnut hair, usually restricted, was wet and loose and flowing to her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and warm, her olive skin gleaming and shiny.
He’d never wanted anyone more.
But he’d as good as lied to her.
And she’d hate him for it.
He needed to remember that. “I’ll see you soon then,” he said to Mitch and hung up.
“What’s that about?” Nina asked.
“I’m flying to meet Jolene Daniels.”
“I am going, too.”
“No—”
“Jolene will not talk to you without me.” She stepped toward him, her body scented like heaven.
“Nina—”
“I have access to the company jet.” She stopped a breath away, close enough that he could see the pain and grief in her eyes, but more, too. God, so much more. Close enough that he had to close his own eyes because her open trust killed him.
He’d never worried about what someone thought of him before, but he worried now, because suddenly it mattered.
She mattered. “I don’t think—”
“I am going,” she repeated.
Yeah, she was going. Because who the hell was he kidding? He couldn’t let her stay here by herself. She looked so utterly alone, so devastated...and much as he wanted to deny it, at the moment, he was all she had.
She needed him.
The least he could do for her was be there.
And if truth was to be told, he thought maybe he needed her, too, just for a little bit longer.
Then he’d find a way to be alone again.
Somehow.
“Nina—”
“I will make the arrangements.” She turned away before he could grab her, before he could haul her close, spill his fears and kiss them both into oblivion.
And in that moment, he couldn’t remember why he’d done this to them, why he’d held back. Why he hadn’t trusted her.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, they were on Rick’s motorcycle, heading out of town toward the airport. That they were traveling with only two backpacks was a testament to his considerable negotiating skills, since Nina had packed a huge trunk for their trip. Where she’d expected him to put it was beyond him, but he’d convinced—and cajoled and bullied—her into letting him pack for her. Now she’d plastered herself to the back of his body, holding on tight as he drove through the crowded streets.
He could feel her thighs surrounding him, her breasts boring into his back. But it was her hands, clenched low on his belly, that really drew him.
She trusted him.
She was trusting him when she had no business doing so.
He was such a jerk.
They couldn’t fly out until first thing in the morning. The jet wouldn’t be ready before then, according to one of Nina’s employees, Meg Turner, who was making the arrangements for them.
But they couldn’t stay in Nina’s condo, either. The place only served as a devastating reminder to Nina of her losses, and compounded her guilt for not doing something sooner.
Rick told her not to waste time feeling guilty, but he understood that emotion all too well.
But where to go before they flew to meet first Mitch, then Jolene Daniels?
His place was out, because God only knew who was watching it now.
They’d settled on holing up in a hotel room by the airport until morning. No one would know where they were, and he could keep Nina safe.
But could he keep his heart safe?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NINA DIDN’T KNOW where she expected Rick to take her, but it wasn’t the luxurious hotel they pulled up to.
“What?” he asked, reading her surprised expression. “You’d rather a motel?”
Motels were an institution in Rio, never to be confused with hotels. Rented by the hour, for short stays only, a motel was a solution to the lack of privacy caused by overcrowded living conditions. Their clientele included adults who still lived with their parents, kids who wanted to get away from their parents, parents who wanted to get away from their kids, or couples who needed to be alone to have wild, hot sex.
When Rick just continued to look at her, she blushed. “This is good.”
The room had two beds, which was a good thing, Nina told herself. She was lost in grief and fear, and she desperately needed her rest before tomorrow’s trip.
But as she crawled into the cold, stiff sheets a short while later and closed her eyes, she realized rest was as far away and as out of touch as her sister was.
Flipping over, she smashed her face into the pillow, but the images that had been loitering in the corner of her mind for hours now came flying back.
Blood and gore and death.
With a small cry, she squeezed her eyes tighter and tossed onto her back. Opening her eyes, she expected to stare at the ceiling, and instead looked into Rick’s green, green eyes. A lock of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead as he leaned over her.
“You okay?”
Unable to speak, she nodded, then changed her mind and shook her head.
“Is that yes or no?”
No, she indicated with another shake of her head.
A sound escaped him as he sank to the bed at her hip. “Go to sleep.”
Another shake of her head, and yet another sound of frustration came from deep in his throat. His jaw was tight and chiseled, his body tense. He was at least 180 pounds of pure hunger and muscle, and she knew with his dark and dangerous good looks he could have any woman he wanted.
If only he’d admit he wanted her.
“You’re not even trying,” he said, skimming his fingertip over her eyelids. “Stop looking at me. Close ’em.” He stroked her face in a dreamy gesture until she relaxed, but when he pulled back, she opened her eyes again.
“Nina.”
“My whole world is upside down.”
“I know.”
“Rick...help me.”
“How?”
“Tell me everything will be okay.” She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Make me feel it. You can do that for me.”
“I am not going to have sex with you.”
“Then make love to me.”
“God.” He pushed to his feet, shoved his fingers into his hair and turned a slow circle. “You have no idea how I want to. Or how wrong that would be.”
Hope and joy combined as a heady rush, and tossing back the covers, she came to her feet as well, standing before him in a T-shirt and bare feet. “Show me.”
“No!” He backed away from her, this big, bad, tough guy who could be terrified by the thought of true intimacy. “I will not.”
“Now who is not using contractions?” she teased, taking another step.
“Stop right there,” he said, holding up his hand. “I mean it. You’re hurting and vulnerable and there’s no way in hell I’m going to take advantage of that.”
“I am asking you to.”
“Yes, but you’re an innocent. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I am not an innocent.” At his dubious glance she growled, “I am not! I have...done this.”
“Done what exactly?”
“Done...you know.”
“Had sex? How can I believe you when you can’t even say it?”
“I have had sex!”
“Yeah? How many times?”
She sighed and looked away. “Once.”
“Once! That’s an innocent.” He looked at her. “Did you come?”
Her face went hot, and she tripped over the words. “What does that matter?”
He closed his eyes and tipped his head heavenward. “You didn’t.”
“That is not the point!”
“What is?”
She slid her hands over his chest. Beneath his shirt, his muscles leaped and quivered, thrilling her. “It is simple,” she whispered. “Make me forget everything else. That Baba is dead and that my sister...” Her voice quavered. “That my sister could be.”
With a grimace, his hands came up to her waist, squeezing gently. “Nina—”
“I have nothing at the moment but you, Rick.”
“You’re shaken,” he said a bit desperately. “Anyone would be. You want comfort and I’m the closest guy, but I’m not that big an ass to—”
She pressed her body to his, her face to the crook in his neck where she fit as if she belonged there.
She did belong there. “Please,” she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck.
He groaned, then wrapped his arms around her tight. “This isn’t right, you don’t know—”
“I know all I need to about you. You are alone, too, and though you think you are totally unlovable and do not deserve anyone in your life, you are wrong. So wrong.” Gliding her lips along his throat, she thrilled to his shiver and the sound of his low, gruff groan. “You are a good man, Rick. The best. I know you do not want me to care about you, but it is far too late.”
Going with instinct, because it certainly wasn’t experience, she bit his jaw, forcing that sexy sound from him again. “I care,” she whispered. “So much. Please care back, Rick. Please?”
“Nina,” he breathed, burying his face in her hair. “I’m not a good bet. You shouldn’t trust me, I—”
“You can tell me all your bad habits later,” she promised. “Right now I just need this...this connection.” And she did. Having him against her, she could feel his strength, his heat...his erection.
She was a grown-up; she knew this wouldn’t last, but she wanted whatever part of him he could give her. Letting go of him, she reached down
, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her standing there in nothing but a pair of panties.
His gaze devoured her, and he swallowed hard. “You’re not playing fair.”
“I know.” As she watched him watch her, his face twisted with barely managed restraint, and her insides went soft and pliant, melting and aching in ways that went far beyond the physical need. But physical need was what she’d created in him, and for now, it would be enough. “Do not make me beg.”
His eyes were deep, so very deep, and slowly he shook his head, reaching for her hand, pulling her back against him. “I’m the one who should be begging.” One hand cupped the back of her head for his hot, hungry kiss, the other splayed low on her back. His fingers stroked up and down, up and back down again, dipping into her panties to cup and hold her against him.
Still kissing her, he walked her backward to the bed until the mattress bumped the backs of her knees.
For a brief moment, nerves flickered within Nina. Not that she’d changed her mind, but that it was going to happen. Here. Now.
Finally.
“Lie down, Nina.”
She did, arching up beneath his hot, hungry gaze, feeling a heady urgency she couldn’t quite contain. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it to the floor. Then came the pop of the button on his jeans, and the metal on metal glide of his zipper as he shoved off the rest of his clothes.
He put a knee on the bed, still staring down at her as he crawled up her body. “Second thoughts?” he murmured, dipping down to glide an openmouthed kiss along her neck.
“No.” She gasped as skin met skin. His thigh brushed against her leg, settled between hers, opening her to him in a way that left her feeling vulnerable. Vulnerable and strong.
So strong.
Her pulse shot up and she sank her hands into his hair. “No second thoughts,” she repeated, dragging his mouth back to hers. She ran her hands down his back, marveling at his smooth, hot skin, at the hard, strong muscles. His body lay heavily over hers and she moved restlessly against him, wanting more, wanting to feel him lose control, wanting to feel his body inside hers, wanting so much she could hardly contain it.
His mouth left hers. She moaned at the loss, then felt the tickle of his hair over her collarbone, the heat of his lips as they closed over her breast.