The Moon That Night

by Helen Brenna

  Her hands felt like heaven on his skin, but it wasn’t close to what he really wanted from her. It was all he could do not to turn and take her right then and there.

  “I’m not that kid you have locked in your memory, Riley,” she whispered, her warm hands sliding over his back. “I’m a woman. I know what I want.”

  “That’s the problem.” He flipped over and grabbed her hands, disengaging from her touch so that he could think. “You want a man who can settle down with you. Make a home together and build a family. A man who can promise to be with you tomorrow and every day afterward.”

  “Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with that?”

  “Not for a minute. But that man is definitely not me.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Pulling her hands out of his grasp, she sat back, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers.

  “Don’t, Kate.” He grabbed her hands again. “You need to understand.” He had to do this for her sake. Her eyes had to be wide open. “You want a storybook life. And there is nothing about me that’s by the book.”

  “You want a home and a family as much as I do. I know you do. Don’t lie to me.”

  “A man can want something he doesn’t have a right to. In my heart I’m still a soldier. That’s never going to change.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with you being a soldier.” She stood and yanked off his pants. “At least have the balls to admit it.”

  He sat up. Dressed only in his boxers, he silently held her gaze. “I think you’d better explain that.”

  “Okay. How’s this? For all that brawn and bravado you tote around like armor, you’re still just scared. Scared you can’t control your world. Scared that people you love will be hurt and you won’t be able to stop it. Scared of feeling helpless. You hate feeling helpless, don’t you, Riley? Like this situation with March.”

  Helpless was exactly how he’d felt. For days.

  “And helpless is exactly how you felt after Amy died,” she went on. “Trying to take care of a little baby all on your own. That’s really why you left Ally with Jenny, isn’t it? You were scared. Scared bad things would happen to Ally if you didn’t.”

  She’d made a lot of damned good points, but there was no way he was about to acknowledge that. “So what if you’re right about me?” he whispered. “That doesn’t change the fact I’m not the man you need.”

  “Maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t.” She pushed him back onto the bed. “But you’re definitely the one I want.”

  Ready to push him to the edge of the world and back again, she reached toward her side, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground. A condom packet was stuck to the skin under her arm, along with a credit card. The dress had been tight, but not too tight for a few necessities.

  But it was the sight of her tattoo, that cluster of little blue butterflies stretching from under her left breast back along her side, like a swarm, that turned his throat dust-dry.

  “Remember me?” she whispered.

  He groaned, wanting to touch her so badly he could taste her. How was he supposed to think enough to resist, with her standing before him wearing no bra and only the skimpiest red thong? But then, that was her point, wasn’t it?

  She climbed on top of him and kissed him.

  Her mouth was hot and insistent. From the first moment he’d met her all those years ago, if he was honest with himself, this was what he’d wanted from her. How was he supposed to take the high road and hold back? “Kate,” he whispered against her lips, giving her—and himself—one last chance to back out. “Don’t do this.”

  She sat back, putting her sweet center over his erection. “You’ll have to stop me.” She pressed her mouth against his neck, left a trail of kisses across his chest and lower on his stomach. “Push me away, Riley. I dare you.”

  She went lower. Lower still, dragging his boxers off as she went. Then her mouth was on his erection, her fingers tightening around the base, and he jerked with pleasure or pain, he wasn’t entirely sure. “Kate, I’m warning you,” he breathed.

  “Consider me fully warned.” Her breath buffeted his wet skin as she flicked the head of his penis with her tongue.

  When her mouth closed over him again, the last of his control snapped. He buried his fingers in her hair, gripped her shoulders and pulled her up to him. He kissed her, holding nothing back.

  She pulsed against him, sliding swollen, luxurious wetness up and down his shaft. He grabbed her hips, holding her still a moment, poising himself at her center. Then he pulled her down onto him, thrusting completely inside her, and she whimpered.

  He grabbed the mattress and froze, holding himself back. “I’m sorry,” he breathed through his clenched teeth.

  “Sorry? Are you crazy? You feel amazing.” She pulsed down on him.

  Softly he cupped her breasts, ran his hands along every one of those tiny butterflies and kissed her deeply. Then he took in the sight of her. The image of her above him, her hips moving over him. Riley had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Until she orgasmed around him, her face overcome with release.

  He could’ve let go in that second and joined her, but that wouldn’t have been perfect, and perfect is what he knew sex with Kate could be. He waited until she’d completely had her way with him, ridden out her last wave and collapsed on top of him.

  Then he moved again, slowly, deeply, holding her hips against him as he pulsed in and out of her. She groaned against his mouth, but he wouldn’t let her move. Her heartbeat thudded faster and faster. She shuddered against him, coming again.

  He chuckled. “Is it always like this with you?”

  “No. Never,” she breathed, kissing him. “It’s you, Riley. It’s you.”

  Knowing that he couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed to feel her under him. Rolling them both over, he covered her, carefully supporting the bulk of his weight so as not to crush her. He moved inside her, thrusting into her over and over. This was what he’d wanted, needed to feel.

  “No.” She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him down. “I want to feel all of you. Your weight, Riley. On me. Over me. I want all of you. Everything you’ve got to give.”

  With Amy, he’d always held a part of himself back, afraid he’d scare or hurt her. With every woman since, he’d always felt too big and too rough to let go. “Kate—”

  “Please.”

  Slowly he lowered his full weight onto her. She tilted her hips, giving him the deepest access to her, and once he started pulsing into her, he didn’t want to—couldn’t—stop. This was, indeed, as perfect as he’d expected. He felt the last of his control slip. A piece of him broke free as he let go, thrusting into her with everything he had, nothing held back, no restraint.

  “Oh, Kate,” he groaned. “Kate!” This time he joined in her release, a release that seemed to never want to end. When he thought it might be too much, his body shuddered one last time. Slowly he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck.

  “Now I can die,” she whispered.

  “What?” He glanced into her eyes.

  She tilted her head and kissed him, rubbed her nose against his neck. “It can’t get any better than that.”

  She might be right. Then again, what had just happened might very well have been only the beginning of how things could be between them. But you’ll never know, Riley. For Kate’s sake, this is never happening again.

  As soon as the thought entered his mind, he knew she was 100-percent right about him. He was scared of loving her. Scared of losing her. Scared of not being able to protect her. Pansy was right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Saturday, 3:30 a.m.

  “LET’S KEEP OUR FINGERS crossed this statue is dry enough to fire,” Kate said, setting the statue of Chaos inside the small electric kiln.

  While in Moscow, she’d managed to find a Turkish potter who was willing—for a steep price—to meet them at his studio after their red-eye flight to Ista
nbul. Ideally, she would’ve liked to fire this piece in a natural kiln underground, but under the circumstances that was impossible.

  “Do we have any other options?” Riley asked.

  “No.”

  “Then we have to take the chance.”

  “We don’t have Belov’s statues,” she said. “So what’s the point in firing this?”

  “If having this Chaos statue stalls March for even a minute, it’s worth it. I might be in a situation where every second counts. Besides, it can’t hurt.”

  “All right, then. Here goes.” She closed the kiln and fired it up. “In about twelve hours we’ll see what we’ve got.”

  That was less time than the typical firing process required, but they didn’t have any other choice. The flight from Moscow to Istanbul had taken a little under three hours, and they’d gained an hour back in the process, but they’d still be cutting it close. The kiln would be finished only a short while before they were supposed to meet March.

  “With any luck,” Riley said, “Trace will have Jenny and whether that statue is in a million pieces or not won’t make a difference.”

  They thanked the potter, explained they’d be back when the kiln had finished its cooling cycle and headed back outside to their rented vehicle. They made one more stop, to meet with Angelo’s friend and pick up a couple weapons, and then they were back on their way.

  “Let’s find a hotel and get some sleep,” Riley said.

  Nothing had ever sounded quite so good, but the prospect would’ve held more appeal to Kate if Riley hadn’t constructed a mental wall between them the moment they’d left the Moscow hotel room for their flight to Istanbul. As if he’d flicked a switch inside him, he’d gone from lover to soldier in the blink of an eye.

  Kate glanced out at the bright lights and busy streets as they flew through Istanbul in the wee hours of the morning. The city’s climate was temperate, warm and humid even in the fall, positioned as it was amidst so much water. Not only did the mighty Bosphorus River cut the city in half, the Black Sea lay to the north and the Sea of Marmara directly to the south.

  In all her travels she’d never been to Turkey, and Istanbul, full of chic nightclubs, busy bazaars and the smells of the sea, was an unexpected surprise, as was the plush high-rise where Riley insisted they stay. With a modern lobby decked out in full regalia for the upcoming holidays, five-star service and panoramic views of the city from every window, this hotel was nothing like the dump they’d found near Rome.

  “I want a decent bed and a few solid hours of sleep,” he’d said by way of an explanation. “This place should be relatively secure, but I’ll get adjoining rooms to be safe. Okay?”

  After what had happened between them at that hotel room in Moscow, he was still trying to keep his distance. Too tired to argue, she nodded, but in truth, after everything they’d been through, she wasn’t sure she was going to feel safe without him near.

  “This is it.” Once they reached the sixteenth floor, Riley went into her room first, checking it out. “It’s clear,” he said.

  Kate walked through the door, barely noticing the red-and-white ultra-lush decor or the vase of fresh and fragrant white roses on the table, and went out onto the balcony. Having flipped through maps and tourist information on the flight from Moscow, she knew exactly where they were.

  Located at the top of Taksim Hill, their hotel looked out over the Bosphorus River, the dividing line between Europe and Asia. During the day, ferries, yachts and sailboats no doubt cruised along the wide blue waterway. The lights of a suspension bridge, the largest Kate had ever seen, stretched high over the wavy waters. Seraglio Point was in the distance and even farther, the darkness of the Sea of Marmara.

  Normally she would’ve been itching to explore the city, dotted with domes and minarets as it stretched out before them. But she could barely summon the energy to take off her shoes.

  “Kate?” Riley said from the door leading into his adjoining room. “I’ll be right through here if you need anything.”

  “All right.” She dropped her bag onto the bed.

  “I want you to stay in your room. No matter what, okay?”

  She followed him to the door. “Okay.”

  In about twelve hours they would be meeting March to give him the statues. If Kozmin didn’t show, they’d be in deep trouble. One way or another, though, this was all going to be over. She’d either be back in D.C. going on with life, or she’d be dead. But nothing would be as before.

  “Kate, what’s the matter?”

  She glanced at him, her heart racing in her chest. She’d known Riley less than a week and she wouldn’t presume to know she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But she sure wanted the rest of this night. “I…I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  For a moment he held her gaze. Heat flickered in his eyes.

  “No, that’s not right,” she whispered. “What I want is for you to stay with me.”

  “Kate, what happened in Moscow—”

  She put her hand to his lips. “I know,” she said. “You think it was a mistake. You want to protect me from it ever happening again.”

  “Kate…”

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Don’t try and explain your ridiculous logic, because I’m not buying it. But I refuse to throw myself at you yet again. You know how I feel. You know what I want. And you know where to find me when you’re ready to be honest with yourself about what you feel. What you want.”

  She turned and walked into her room. She desperately wanted to shut the door between them in his face, lock it and throw that chain into place. Instead she left it wide open and went into her bathroom to take a shower, forcing herself to be vulnerable. One last time.

  Come to me, Riley. Admit you need me as much as I need you.

  RILEY HAD TAKEN a frigidly cold shower, gone through his equipment one last time and was now lying on top of the king-size bed in only his boxers trying to sleep. It wasn’t happening. All he could think about was the sound of Kate’s shower coming through the open door between their rooms. She’d been in there at least twenty minutes. Lathering and relathering. By now, her naked skin had to be almost raw.

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

  Finally the water stopped. Total silence followed. Several long moments of total silence. Shit. Lotion. He envisioned her slathering it all over her arms, her legs, her belly and breasts. Slick cream sliding over clean skin and soft curves.

  Stop it, you masochist. Go to sleep.

  Right. Not going to happen in the shape he was in. His hands were clenched in fists. His gut was as tight as a knot. And he had an erection as hard as granite tenting his boxers. He flipped onto his side and covered himself with a throw.

  Kate’s bathroom door opened. In his peripheral vision he saw her pad across the room in an oversize T-shirt. Every muscle in his body went on full alert as he tried to guess whether or not she had panties on under that thing. The scent of something sweet wafted toward him and it was all he could do to breathe.

  For a few long moments he lay there, trying to settle. Not only wasn’t his body cooperating, but his mind was going full speed thinking about those slender, creamy legs that had passed through his line of sight and what they’d felt like wrapped around him in that Moscow hotel room.

  Finally he sat on the edge of the bed and swung his feet to the plush carpet. He ran his hands over his face and glanced at the gun on the nightstand in the hopes that focusing on the work he had yet to do would distract him.

  March. Jenny. Focus.

  Face it. You want Kate. The only thing that will come close to satisfying you will be having her.

  He stood and crossed the room.

  ALTOGETHER TOO AWARE of the man lying in the bed no more than thirty feet away, Kate stood at her balcony doors and looked out over Istanbul. A deep breath did nothing to help her find a quiet place in her mind. So much had happened this past week. So much had changed.


  She had no clue what tomorrow would bring. She wasn’t even sure about the next hour. The only thing she was sure about was that for the first time in her life she was falling in love, and the man she was falling in love with was fighting his feelings with his entire arsenal of weapons. So was she going down without a fight?

  Yes. She was. She’d done the right thing in backing away from Riley. Until he accepted—

  “Kate?” Riley’s voice came from the darkness behind her.

  She slowly turned to find him standing in the doorway. The dawn’s watery light filtered through the hotel window, illuminating his bare chest. As magnificent as the famous marble statues gracing the museums of Rome, he stood there gazing at her.

  She waited.

  “I want…” He paused, the air whooshing from his chest. “I want you more desperately than I’ve ever wanted another woman.”

  That was what she’d wanted to hear.

  “No, that’s not right,” he whispered.

  She held her breath. He was killing her piece by piece.

  “What I wanted to say is that…I…need you.” Without hesitation, he came steadily toward her. “I need you, Kate, more than I’ve ever needed anyone. Like water. Air. Like…life.”

  Stopping only inches from her, he reached out to draw his hand down the side of her face. He tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I still can’t make any promises about tomorrow.”

  “I’m not asking for any. Riley—”

  He kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, taking the breath from her throat, the strength from her legs. Her knees buckled and she fell into him and at that moment she knew. This man was going to break her heart. Still, he was all she wanted.

  He lifted her, carried her to the bed and laid her back. Kneeling over her, he drew her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. For a long, long while he simply looked down at her, his gaze hovering over her butterfly tattoos.