You're Still the One

by Jacobs, Annabel

  How could he be so in control? She felt as if she were about to splinter, operating solely on sensation and instinct. She wanted him to lose control, too.

  His fingers stroked her, deep and hard; she sagged against him, feeling the tide swell inside her.

  "Not close enough," he growled, anchoring his arms beneath her bottom and lifting her.

  She hooked her legs around his hips, bringing his erection against her and triggering a wildness inside her. She moved against him. "Rick," she moaned.

  He turned, set her on a desk that held a phone and a lamp.

  She arch against him, kissing him, her head bumping the mirror behind her. She kept her legs locked tight around him. She didn't want to lose one moment, one second of feeling him like this, had thought he would never let her in again.

  He moved his hand and with two wicked strokes, he stripped the last of her control. The climax ripped through her, quicksilver and searing, consuming the way only Rick had ever been able to give her. She moaned his name, wanting more of him, needing him.

  He held himself stiff-armed over her, head bowed, breathing hard, his copper skin flushed.

  "Rick?" she panted. She needed to feel him deep inside her body, her heart.

  She could tell he was searching for control; she didn't want control. Reaching down, she took him in her hand, and his muscles lashed tight.

  "Katie," he rasped.

  She couldn't tell if it was a plea or a command. "I want you. I need you. Rick, please." The words were thick in her throat; a greedy flame ate at her from the inside.

  He paused, his gaze searing, peeling away every defense.

  "I'm safe," she said.

  "Me, too."

  "Now, Rick." She tightened her legs around his lean waist, urging him closer.

  He slid inside, deep and full, his eyes black and steady on her. Her body fitted to him perfectly, as she'd known it would. She clutched his shoulders, lifting her hips. He thrust deep inside her. Sensation drove her, a hot, whipping wind that reached for her.

  Her hips rose, lifted, met each of his measured thrusts. He bowed his head, tendons cording in his neck and arms as his body stroked hers.

  His hands curled into her hips, flexed with each long slide of his body. She reached up, framed his face in her hands, moving with him. She pulled him to her, covered his lips with hers.

  He kissed her back, keeping rhythm with his movements inside her, driving her steadily higher and out of her mind. Finally, he began to move faster, and she kept pace, her heart overflowing. She'd nearly given up on this, hadn't even dared hope.

  And yet, she reached for something...elusive, something she recognized, but couldn't define.

  The tension coiled, then snapped inside her. She gasped into his mouth. The first climax hit her, then another, strong, hard, fast.

  He threw his head back, thrust harder, faster and finally stilled, bowing his head against hers. For long moments, they stayed like that as their breathing slowed. His flesh was damp beneath her palms, and she felt complete in a way she hadn't since leaving him.

  Slowly, she became aware of the corner of the mirror digging into her hip, and she shifted.

  He raised his head. "You okay?"

  "Yes." She gave a weak smile. "The mirror's getting a little friendly."

  He gathered her to him and staggered to the bed. Boneless, she slid down beside him, trying to catch her breath. She turned her head to look at him. His chest rose and fell; a fine sweat slicked his body as it did hers.

  His arm still held her loosely to him.

  She curled her hand around his and rolled into him. "Very nice, Powell. You certainly have not lost your touch."

  "Neither have you," he said in a rusty voice.

  His hand curved over her hip, pressing her into him. She nestled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

  Sunlight brought her slowly awake. She blinked at the ceiling, then squinted at the strip of light streaming through the center part of the draperies. The small ache between her legs brought the memory of last night flooding back.

  She smiled and slid a hand across the sheet, reaching for Rick. When she encountered only cool sheets, she rose up on one elbow, pushing her hair back.

  He sat in the oversize chair, pulling on his boots. His hair was neatly brushed, his face freshly scrubbed.

  "Morning," she said, rolling to her stomach to watch him.

  "Morning." He stomped his foot into his boot, stood.

  How long had he been up? When had he left her? She glanced at the clock, saw it was after seven. "You should've woken me."

  "Looked like you could use the sleep."

  The words were soft, polite. Stilted.

  "Is something wrong? Has something happened?" A chill skittered across her shoulders. She sat up, pulling the sheet around her.

  "No word from Grace so I'm assuming she's fine." He didn't meet her eyes, didn't look at her at all. Instead he checked the ammunition in his clip, then slid it into the gun's chamber. "I've already used the shower, so it's all yours."

  Despite the ache in her body proving how close they'd been last night, Katie felt a chasm growing between them. Making love with Rick hadn't felt wrong, but something did.

  He regretted making love with her.

  Her head came up as the realization slammed into her.

  He turned, glanced at her, and she knew she was right. His eyes were flat, remote. That, combined with the rigid set of his body, drove a painful wedge beneath her ribs. Her mind could barely computer what it meant.

  He'd made love to her with all the finesse and hunger that she remembered. At the end, he'd finally surrendered to the same reckless pulse thundering through her. Almost, she realized, as if he'd surrendered against his will.

  She'd though making love had symbolized a new start. She'd felt him in her soul, surrendered completely to him for the first time in her life. Just as he'd always done. But not this time. Not with her.

  The hope she'd held close to her heart crumbled. Tears tightened her throat. She stood up, sweeping the sheet around her and starting for the bathroom. "I'll be out in a minute," she managed to say.

  "Katie?"

  Hands knotting the sheet, she paused. Waited for him to apologize or explain. The seconds ticked by, scraping against nerves already raw from the extreme plunge in her emotions. He said nothing. She wasn't sure she could bear it if he did.

  She walked into the bathroom and shut the door, her body trembling.

  He hadn't once called her darlin'.

  Hadn't lost all sense of time and place as she did.

  Making love had been a purely physical act for him without investing one bit of his heart. And she knew exactly why.

  Her heart clenched; she bit her lip to keep from crying. Would he ever trust her again?

  Riding a razor edge of anger and guilt, Rick watched Katie disappear into the bathroom. Last night, she had made herself completely vulnerable to him for the first time in their lives, but he hadn't been able to do the same. The last time he had opened up, she'd walked away. His world had shattered. He couldn't let that happen again.

  When she'd told him she wanted him, she'd seemed so certain. When they'd made love, she had committed totally to him. Hell, she'd about committed him right off his feet. He had thought he was ready, but he wasn't.

  Being buried tight inside her had only sharpened his awareness of her and his sense of loss. He hadn't been able to tell her how much he'd missed her, missed the way she said his name just before she came apart in his arms, missed the way she held his face when they were both going over the edge. Blocked by the memory of how she'd hurt him before, the words had stayed locked in his throat.

  "What do we do about Grace?" Katie's voice was cool and steady as she walked out of the bathroom. She stuffed her toothbrush into her makeup case, then zipped her travel bag. "About that guy who was here last night?"

  "We'll keep an eye out for Ape Boy." He noticed her eyes showed no
sign of hurt that he'd dealt her. They were cool, even remote, but he remembered the bleak sharpness there. "As for Grace, we don't want to lead Henderson's goon to her and Tommy, so we can go to a dummy bank and throw him off their trail. Or we can stay here."

  "Let's go to the bank," she said quickly, gathering her pulse and travel bag, then moving to the door.

  She said the same thing he would've. Staying in this room, cornered by guilt and second thoughts, would be impossible for him. Evidently for her, too.

  He slid his gun into the waistband of his black jeans and picked up the room's phone book along with his bag as he walked out. They could choose an alternate bank in the car.

  They rode down in the elevator, the silence abrasive and thick. Rick slid a look at her features, composed, guarded.

  "I'm really sorry, Katie. About last night."

  "Oh, look, we're here," she said brightly, practically clawing the door open and hurrying into the lobby.

  He snagged her elbow, turned her to face him. "We need to talk about this."

  She stared at him, anger and hurt warring in her eyes. She sighed. "Can we talk later? Take care of this first?"

  "Yes." He released her even though he didn't want to. "And we will talk, all right?"

  "All right."

  They paid for their room. Rick paused at the hotel's double glass doors and scanned the parking lot before proceeding outside. "I don't see the silver sedan or Baldy."

  "That's good, right?" Subdued, Katie walked beside him, then took her bag and put it in his small trunk along with his luggage. "He won't get that close again. He may have even switched cars. He knows we'd make that sedan in a heartbeat."

  Once in the 'Vette, Katie directed him to a bank on the other side of town. The moderate population was spread over wheat fields interspersed with strip malls and grocery stores. The silence built around them, echoing with hurt and regret. He kept seeing the devastation on her face this morning when he'd turned away from her.

  Just as they pulled into the parking lot of Farmer's Home Bank, her cell phone rang.

  "Katie!" Grace shrieked, sounding hysterical.

  "What is it? What's happened?" Katie demanded. "Are you guy's okay?"

  "The money! Where's the money?"

  Katie shot Rick a panicked look; he swung into a parking space and put the car in Park.

  "You didn't get it? she asked Grace.

  "No!"

  "I had it wired from Winfield." Katie held the phone close to Rick's ear. "I'll make a call--"

  "It's too late. We've already left Grady City."

  He could feel the warmth from Katie's scalp; her soft hair brushed against his cheek. Setting his jaw, he narrowed his focus to the phone call only.

  "Why did you leave?" Katie asked sharply. "If you'd stay in one place long enough, you could get the money."

  "I'm not the one who messed this up," her sister reminded acidly.

  Rick wanted to take the phone and tell Grace to simmer down but he didn't.

  "I'm still in Grady City." Katie shifted beside him, her shoulder nudging his. Her scent drifted around him. "I can go to the bank right now, make sure the wire gets to you this time."

  "We really need the money, sis. The bank said they never received wire instructions at all."

  "I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't know. I can send it to you now; just tell me where."

  "Okay, Tommy says we can stop before we get to where we're going. Remember that year we went to Yellowstone?"

  "Yes." She'd been thirteen, Grace ten. The year before Mom had died.

  "And the car broke down in Colorado? That old brown Fairlane?" Grace asked.

  "Yes," Katie said with visible relief. "You're going to the town where we had it serviced."

  "Right, but only for a couple of hours. You can send the money there." She gave Katie the name of the local bank.

  Rick nodded, giving Katie a thumbs-up. He couldn't stop a flare of admiration at the way she calmed her sister down.

  "I'll make sure it goes through this time, Grace. Call me after you get it."

  "Tommy doesn't think I should. We're heading for a cabin not far from there, and you won't hear from me for a while. He's sweeping the hard drive, and he has almost everything he needs off Henderson's computer."

  Rick shook his head, mouthing. "No. Tell her not to break contact."

  "Grace, please call. At least to let me know you're all right."

  "I can't promise. Bye." And she hung up.

  Katie did the same, sighing loudly. "I guess we need to go to the bank and make sure the money goes through this time."

  Rick nodded, reversing out of the space and turning onto the main avenue. "So, where do you send the money?"

  She pulled away from him, stuffed her cell phone in her pulse. "A bank of Pueblo."

  "Yeah, a cabin in Colorado. Like nobody has one of those. How are we going to figure that out?" Katie asked wryly. "She said she might or might not call."

  Rick drummed his fingers on the wheel. "If they're planning to stay there a while, maybe that's where they were headed all along."

  She shot him a thoughtful look. "And Grace did say they didn't want to leave a straight trail to where they were going, which would explain all their zigzagging."

  "Right."

  "So maybe," Katie said slowly, "this is the information Billy Edwards had. This is what got him killed?"

  "Very likely. And maybe he knew about this cabin because it belonged to him."

  "Do you think?"

  The possibility put a hint of life in her eyes, more color in her cheeks than she'd had all morning. "Could be. Once we get to Pueblo, we can check it out."

  "How?"

  "I'll do a property search on the Internet." He stopped at a light, pointed through the intersection. "We'll stop at this bank first and send Grace the money."

  "Then drive to Pueblo and make sure she picked it up."

  "Exactly. After that, we'll see if we can locate this cabin or some kind of information to help us find it."

  "So this might really be over soon?"

  He hated how the anticipation in her voice sliced at him, but he didn't blame her for wanting some space from him. "Yeah."

  "That's good." She let out a deep breath. "That's really good."

  After Katie contacted the check-cashing place in Winfield, she issued instructions for the money to be wired to Pueblo. She and Rick waited an hour, until they were told the money was received on the other end, then they drove out of Grady City, straight west on US-50 for Pueblo.

  The drive took almost seven hours. They arrived mid-afternoon, and once there, Rick drove to the bank Grace had designated. Katie went inside to make sure the wire had indeed gone through. While she checked on that, he got directions to the police department.

  Some of the strain seemed to vanish from around her mouth once she learned that the wire had come through and Grace had picked up the money.

  He drove to the police department and explained the case to the desk sergeant, who took careful note of Grace and Tommy's descriptions, as well as Henderson's goon. The sergeant then generously agreed to let Rick hook up to the Internet via once of their phone lines.

  For over an hour, Rick searched Colorado property records for Billy Edwards. He saved the files to his laptop to look over once he and Katie left the police department. After thanking the sergeant for his help, he and Katie climbed into his car.

  He was tired, his brain was fuzzy, and guilt sawed at him over the distance he'd put between them.

  After Katie agreed quietly that she was hungry, he chose a nice restaurant off I-25 South, and they shared a meal in near silence. The smudges under her eyes were darker; the quiet way she held herself gouged at his conscience. Rick knew he couldn't let things go on like this. She deserved better, regardless of how determined he was to protect his heart.

  Finish with his steak and potato, he laid down his fork and napkin. Crawling over broken glass held more appeal, but he jumped r
ight in. "Are we just going to pretend last night never happened?"

  "Isn't that what you want?" She gave him a cool if exhausted look across the table. "Just to forget it?"

  "Not really. There were things I should've said. Hell, I should've said anything, but I just...didn't. I was wrong and I owe you an apology."

  She stared at her plate, then lifted somber eyes to his.

  "You can't help it if you think our making love was a mistake. I just wish you'd said something before...before."

  "I didn't say it was a mistake." He leaned forward, urging her with his eyes to look at him, but she looked at her glass, the tablecloth, her half-empty plate. "I didn't say that."

  Her gaze searched his. She carefully folded her napkin and leaned over to pick up her pulse. "Let's find a hotel for tonight. We can talk about it there."

  "Okay, good." He hoped he hadn't screwed things up beyond redemption.

  CHAPTER 12

  They checked into a hotel off I-25, not far from where they'd eaten. Even though Rick hadn't spotted the tail all day, he didn't feel comfortable getting separate rooms.

  As he filled out the registration card and pocketed the key, Katie's mouth tightened, but she didn't protest. In fact, she didn't say anything. Well, he thought wryly, he certainly didn't need to worry about a repeat of last night.

  While he put her bag on the bed and his in the space between the wall and an armoire holding the television, she walked toward the window and stepped around a red floral chaise lounge to flip on a lamp in the corner. She stayed at the window. Staring blankly at the khaki curtains. He wasn't sure if they had another shot. He just knew he was miserable and he'd made her the same way.

  The room smelled of pine air freshener and cleaner. He slid his gun out from the small of his back, double-checked the safety and laid the weapon on top of the armoire.

  He watched Katie for a moment. She was a small, solitary figure; lamplight washed across her soft features, traced her curves with silvery light.

  "I'm really sorry, Katie. I know I hurt you."

  "You did." She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. "But I hurt you, too."

  "I didn't do it to punish you."