Faithless Angel

by Kimberly Raye

  But inside, as she peeked past the curtains and watched him pull out of the driveway, she couldn’t deny the loneliness surrounding her. It followed her through the dark house and crept into bed with her later that night.

  Loneliness, and oddly enough, relief. She’d released her anger over Jane’s death, and when she closed her eyes, the nightmares didn’t come. Only sweet dreams of a young, vibrant girl with brilliant brown eyes.

  Jesse’s eyes …

  Jesse stripped off his clothes and stepped into a cold shower, eager to wash Faith’s scent from his body, the feel of her from his hands, the taste of her from his lips.

  He’d kissed her. Of all the stupid, ridiculous, insane things he could have done, he’d kissed her.

  He slammed a fist into the tiled wall. Pain splintered through him, but it wasn’t enough to erase the memory of her. So close. So warm. So damned responsive.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t been thinking. He’d acted on impulse, gut reaction, sheer desperation.

  The anger had been eating her up, the rage destroying her, and something had shifted inside him. Faith was a woman who knew what it meant to hurt, to ache, to hate so badly there was nothing else left inside.

  Nothing but burning vengeance.

  But it hadn’t been vengeance that had passed between them for those few seconds. Jesse had realized that the moment he’d stepped up behind Faith, reached for her….

  A wild current of feeling had flowed between them. Desire, lust, want, understanding. Jesse had never felt so connected to someone, or been so damned aroused.

  He turned the water up full-force and took several deep breaths. Okay, so he was aroused. He’d been without a woman a long time. There’d been many before that fateful night. Nameless, faceless women, no one he could actually recall.

  It was only natural that when he finally touched a female again after all this time, all he’d been through, he would want to do a hell of a lot more. It was raw need, pure and simple.

  That he could handle. Control. He wasn’t a teenager hard up for anything in a skirt. He was a man—for now, anyway.

  Jesse soaped his arms, his shoulders, relishing the feel of water sluicing over him. It had been so long since he’d had even this simple pleasure. He inhaled the soap’s fragrance and turned his full attention to the slippery wetness gliding over his skin.

  A shower was good. A definite distraction.

  Or was it?

  He slid the soap over his pounding heart, down his belly and lower….

  His eyes closed and he sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.

  It couldn’t be…. Even as the thought echoed in his head, he felt Faith’s fingers trailing over his aching length, touching him. He grew harder, hotter, damned near ready to explode.

  His gaze snapped to attention and he stared into the small shaving mirror hanging from the showerhead. The brown of his eyes fired a brilliant, iridescent white. Like twin beams from a pair of headlights, only brighter. Light skimmed over his skin, outlining his body in a pulsing glimmer.

  You shouldn’t have poked your nose into this, Savage. We ain’t got no beef with you, cop. It’s your brother we want.

  Reality pelted him as fiercely as the icy pellets of the cold shower. The light faded as quickly as it had come, his eyes deepened to their usual brown, and Jesse looked to be a man again.

  For the time being.

  But he wasn’t a man to indulge in a man’s fantasies, much less act on them. He should have only three goals when it came to Faith Jansen: Get close to her, find out her heart’s desire, and see that she saw firsthand what true faith could do.

  Miracles do happen.

  Faith, with her kind heart and her lifetime of do-gooding, had earned herself one, and Jesse was the delivery man.

  Then he could kiss this place good-bye forever. There was nothing for him here. Everyone he’d ever loved was gone, and he wanted to follow, to say the words that burned inside him.

  A second chance to ask forgiveness. To gain peace.

  He rinsed himself off and reached for a towel. As much as he might want to bed Faith—and he did—it wasn’t part of the deal, and he wouldn’t jeopardize an eternity of heaven in the hereafter for a fleeting glimpse of it here on earth. Not no, but sure as hell no.

  His mind knew all the reasons why not, all the obstacles that stood between them, the stakes riding on the success of his mission.

  If only his damned body understood, as well.

  When Jesse finally climbed into bed, he didn’t get the good night’s sleep he’d expected after almost a year spent floating in oblivion. No, he tossed and turned, and ached and burned, and the feelings had nothing to do with the hate swirling inside him.

  They had everything to do with a fresh-faced woman with pain-filled eyes, who tasted of hope and innocence and kept him throbbing and aroused and feeling like nothing more than a man desperate for a woman. His woman.

  “I’ve been living under a rock,” Faith told Grubby the next morning. She sat at the kitchen table, nibbled a stale piece of toast, and watched the puppy gobble up the last can of dog food. “A really big rock.”

  He looked up at her with anxious eyes and licked his chops.

  “Sorry, buddy. That’s it for you.” She tossed the empty can into the nearest trash, along with an old bread wrapper. “For both of us if I don’t get to the grocery store.”

  She glanced around at the chaos of her kitchen. At least she’d done the dishes yesterday, thanks to Jesse. Otherwise the entire room looked like it had been hit by a tornado—

  The thought ground to a halt as she caught her reflection in the toaster. A gasp stalled in her throat. Staring back at her was a stranger. A lost, lonely stranger.

  A tangled mass of brown hair framed the thin, wan face, the complexion pale from lack of proper nourishment and sunshine. The green eyes were smudged with shadows, the lips drawn and colorless.

  She’d seen her reflection many times over the past two weeks when she’d chanced a glance in the mirror. She’d seen the same face, yet she’d never felt this way before….

  Bitterness and grief, yes. But no regret. She’d been too angry to care how she looked, too lost to try to find herself again.

  She stiffened, tugging at her wrinkled T-shirt. She looked awful. Her clothes were ragged, her hair limp and lifeless and in sore need of a wash. She was a mess, and her life was a mess.

  Faith tossed the stale toast into the trash and headed for the bathroom. Her wrinkled clothes hit the tile, and she slid into a hot bath. She spent the next half hour soaping herself with a nickel-size piece of Ivory. She’d run out of everything: food, toiletries, energy….

  No more.

  She still wasn’t her old self, she decided a while later as she stared at her reflection in the steamed-up bathroom mirror. But at least her hair was clean and shiny, her face freshly scrubbed. She might not look all that much better but she felt it. She changed into a button-down shirt and jeans, attached Grubby’s leash, and headed for a nearby grocery store.

  She didn’t have enough arms to carry everything she’d run out of since she’d let her cupboards go bare. But at least she could get some food and essentials to see her through until she could find a means of transportation.

  Of course, she could always commandeer the Suburban, but that would mean going to Faith’s House and seeing the kids.

  “What do you say, Grubby? You up for a new car?”

  The dog barked and Faith smiled. Maybe tomorrow she’d go car shopping. Or the day after that. Eventually.

  Sunlight beamed down on her. What was it they said about the weather in Houston? If you didn’t like it, wait an hour. That summed it up, all right. It was brilliant and beautiful, with clear blue skies. It was the calm after last night’s storm.

  An hour later, she lugged five plastic bags, more than she’d intended, back home from the Food Mart. She was hot and panting by the time she reached her front porch
to find Jesse Savage sitting on the steps.

  A fact that did nothing to help the heat and the panting.

  “Hey, little buddy. It’s good to see you.” Jesse scooped up Grubby.

  Powerful hands cradled the small, furry body, and warmth stole through Faith.

  Muscles rippled in his arms as Jesse stroked the puppy’s head before setting him aside and reaching for Faith’s groceries. “Here, let me.”

  “Where were you when I really needed you?” Faith handed him a couple of bags. “I think I pulled my shoulder completely out of socket a block back.”

  “You should have called me. I would have driven you.”

  Now, there was a thought. But as inviting as it was, after looking in the mirror that morning, really looking, Faith hadn’t been so sure she wanted strangers to see her, much less a man who’d kissed her senseless the night before.

  She didn’t look much better now, but at least she was clean and had on some decent clothes. With that consoling thought, she led Jesse inside.

  In the kitchen, Grubby licked excitedly at the dog food Faith opened for him as Jesse started unloading groceries.

  “Shouldn’t you be at Faith’s House?” She spooned the last of the food into Grubby’s bowl.

  Jesse paused, a box of Wheaties in one hand, and grinned. “I am at Faith’s house.”

  “I mean the other one.”

  “Once the kids were off to school and the breakfast rush over, Bradley said I could take a few hours off while he went to the hospital to check on Daniel.”

  “How is he?” The words were out before she could stop them.

  “Not so good. The doctor says he’s withdrawn. He won’t talk to anyone. He just lies there. No reaction at all.”

  Compassion prickled through her, but Faith pushed the feeling aside. “He’ll come around. He just needs a little time, a qualified counselor, somebody in his life who understands him.”

  “Like you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m retired now. Bradley will do just fine. He’s patient, caring, concerned, committed—everything a kid like Daniel needs. So”—she sighed, unloading one of the grocery bags—“what brings you over here during your break?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that torn screen on your front porch.”

  “First garbage cans, now my screen.” She started stacking cans of dog food in the pantry. “What are you, some kind of Mr. Fix-it guardian angel?”

  “Well, I’ve always been pretty handy.” Jesse’s deep voice rumbled directly behind her, and a sizzle of awareness bolted up her spine. “But never much of an angel.”

  Her heart thudded a response and she took a deep, steadying breath. Easy, girl. He’s just a man, and you’re just having an attack of hormones. She’d neglected everything in her life for the past two weeks, including her sex life.

  Of course, she’d also neglected it for the past five years, as well, which spoke volumes for her social life, or lack of one. With Faith’s House to oversee, she’d never had time for a real relationship, and she’d never been into one-night stands.

  She turned and stared up at him. Then again, a girl could always change her mind. Jesse Savage was certainly a convincing argument, especially standing so close to her.

  So warm and real.

  “You look like you’re feeling better.” His fingertips skimmed her cheek and she resisted the urge to turn into his palm. “No more dark circles.” The pad of his finger traced the sensitive area beneath one eye and she trembled. “That’s good, Faith. Really good.”

  “It feels good.” She took another breath. Bad move. His scent—that undeniable musky maleness coupled with a hint of mystery—filled her head, pulsed through her senses. “I—about last night,” she started, only to have the words stall in her throat. She swallowed. “I—I owe you an apology for running out of the hospital the way I did.”

  “Forget it. It’s good to lose control once in a while. Sometimes we have to let off a little steam.” He grabbed her hand, his fingertips caressing her bruised knuckles. A grin tugged at his lips. “Or a lot of steam.”

  “I was pretty fired up, wasn’t I?”

  She was referring to her outburst of anger. But when Jesse’s gaze darkened, she knew her words had broached an altogether different subject.

  Unconsciously, she licked her lips. He followed the motion with his eyes and her mouth went dry. It was going to happen again, and oddly enough, she wanted it to.

  She wanted him. She wanted to feel the warmth he stirred inside her, to soak up the delicious heat, to chase away the cold grief that had taken up residence after Jane’s death.

  His breath touched her mouth, made it tingle, and her lips parted. Yes, she wanted to kiss him again—

  “Cupcakes,” he said, reaching behind her to pull the package off the pantry shelf. Wonder filled his voice. “You’ve got cupcakes.”

  So much for kissing. She forced her heartbeat back to normal. Not easy considering he was still standing so close. “Help yourself,” she managed.

  He leaned back, putting a few safe inches between them as he opened the package. He took a bite, and pleasure eased the lines of his face. “Damn, I forgot how good these were,” he said in between bites.

  “Forgot?”

  “I haven’t had them in a while.”

  “Why?”

  He seemed at a loss. His jaws stopped working at the cake for a full second, his expression guarded, careful, as if he were hiding something. Finally, he swallowed. “A diet,” he muttered. He took another bite of the cupcake. “No sweets. Have to keep the old bod in shape.” He patted his flat stomach, finished off the cupcake, and busied himself pulling another out of the package. “You know what they say,” he told her with a sheepish grin. “Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “I thought it was absence.”

  “That, too.” He bit into his second cupcake. Pleasure glittered hot and bright in his eyes. She’d never seen someone enjoy something quite so much.

  “My kid sister used to bake a lot,” he said, as if he read the question in her eyes. “She started off with an Easy Bake oven when she was about nine. By the time she hit thirteen, she’d graduated to the real thing.” He turned to finish unloading the grocery sack on the table. “She didn’t make cupcakes, but she made lots of real cakes—all chocolate. She loved anything chocolate, especially brownies. She could whip up the best fudge brownies in the entire world.”

  “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” Faith scooted past Jesse to put a loaf of bread in the bread box. Anything to keep from watching his mouth work at the chocolate cupcake.

  “Yeah.” The word was gruff, a wealth of feeling behind the one syllable. She couldn’t help but get the distinct impression that it was an admission Jesse Savage didn’t make very often.

  “You never did tell me what happened.”

  He averted his gaze and unwrapped another cupcake. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone, and my brother, too.” Silence settled around them as he leaned against the counter. “I never was much for baking, myself, but she always had something in the oven. The kitchen always smelled so sugary and warm….” He shook his head, as if to shake away the sudden memory.

  Faith closed her eyes to her own vision—a drawerful of Hershey’s kisses and a young girl with dark hair and dark eyes, popping chocolate into her mouth while doing a particularly difficult math problem.

  “What about you?” Jesse’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Do you like sweets?” She nodded and he grinned. “That figures.” He held out a bite to her. “Sweets for the sweet?”

  She opened her mouth and let him feed her the small morsel. His fingertip trailed over her lip, and every nerve in her body went on full alert.

  Their gazes locked for the space of several heartbeats before Faith managed to close her mouth. Then he reached out and wiped a smudge of cream from the corner of her upper lip. Electricity shimmered through her body.

  “The inside’s the best p
art.” He slid his fingertip into his own mouth and sucked the dab of cream. The air stalled in Faith’s lungs.

  Her mind replayed last night’s kiss and it was all she could do not to take his finger, slide it into her own mouth, taste the lingering cream and bitter-sweetness of delicious male skin. Him.

  The forbidden thought sang through her head, and she actually felt herself lean forward, just a fraction of an inch. He was so close, the scent of chocolate and raw male like an aphrodisiac to her vulnerable senses.

  “I’d better get to work on that screen.”

  He turned before she could form a reply and disappeared into the living room. Minutes later, she heard him outside working at the front screen, and she was left to wonder what had just happened between them.

  Nothing, her brain cried out, but her hormones said otherwise. Something had indeed happened. Jesse had retreated. She’d seen the want in his eyes; then for whatever reason, he’d resisted his feelings, and her.

  Grubby barked and Faith gathered her control. So he had no intention of kissing her again. So what? At least she’d felt that moment of contact last night, his body pressing against hers, desire rippling through her. She would savor the memory and chalk it up to experience.

  If only she didn’t feel so connected to him. When she looked into his eyes, those familiar brown eyes, it was almost as if she’d loved him in the past.

  Whoa, wait a second. Love? She’d never met Jesse Savage, much less loved him. He was handsome and kind, and she was vulnerable. That explained everything. And nothing.

  But Faith didn’t care about explanations. She cared only about getting her life back together. She forced Jesse from her thoughts and concentrated on putting up the rest of the groceries. After that, she would tackle the mess in the living room, then scrub the bathroom. That should keep her busy.

  Jesse Savage and his kiss were history.

  If only she could manage to completely forget that he was only mere feet away. The awareness stayed with her, followed her through each chore, driving her to scrub and polish until her arms ached as badly as her reawakened hormones. Worse, even …