“They might,” he acknowledged.
“Then what? I’m left hung out to dry?”
He sat forward and reached across the desk to grasp her hands. “Sweetheart, calm down. The FBI won’t call off their dogs unless they’re confident that Danning no longer poses a threat to you.”
Rainie gulped down a shrill protest and struggled to regain her composure. “I know him, Parker. He’ll never rest, not as long as I’m alive. I belong to him. Don’t you see? He’s a twisted, sick man, and in his mind, I have to be punished for leaving him.”
“You don’t belong to him, not anymore,” he assured her huskily. “You’re mine now, and trust me when I say, I guard what’s mine. If the FBI loses interest in the case and leaves you unprotected, my family and I will take over from there. Stop worryin’. Okay? You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
The truth was that Parker was every bit as worried as Rainie was. Why wasn’t Danning making a move? One week soon became two, two became three, and Peter Danning was still maintaining high visibility in Seattle and playing the press for all it was worth. No matter how Parker looked at it, that made no sense to him. By all accounts, Danning was a maniacal killer. If he stayed true to form, he had to come after Rainie sooner or later. What if the man was actually cunning enough to bide his time until Rainie had no protection?
The suspicion intensified Parker’s determination to keep Rainie in training until he felt confident that she’d be able to protect herself from any kind of physical attack. When she came to work each morning, safely hidden from prying eyes in the arena, Parker’s first order of business each day was to work with her. He became a merciless taskmaster, putting her through a grueling exercise regimen, and then pushing her harder and harder as she trained with the punching bag and weights that he’d borrowed from Quincy’s home gym.
“Strength, speed, and automatic reflexes!” he drilled, day after day. “Make him your victim and show no mercy.”
The office work suffered as Parker lengthened Rainie’s training periods, but as the days passed, his reward was to see the woman he loved become a toned, ruthless fighter. Early on, Parker could push his face at her, tell her to hit him, and then easily dance away, but as time wore on, Rainie became faster and faster, until one day when she managed to belt him with all her strength, squarely in his eye socket.
“Oh, my God!” she cried.
One hand clamped over his eye, Parker waved her away. “I’m all right,” he assured her. Then, as the pain radiated through his skull, he said, “Damn, girl, you’re startin’ to pack a wallop.”
“I’m sorry. You always duck! I never meant to hit you for real.”
It suddenly struck Parker as being funny, and he started to laugh. When he saw the indignant look that crossed Rainie’s sweet face, he caught her around the waist with one arm and hauled her up against him. “Kiss it and make it better,” he requested with a chuckle. “I’m proud of you, Rainie mine. This is exactly what we’ve been workin’ toward, and now it’s official. My lady can kick ass and take names.”
She lightly touched his cheekbone, her hazel eyes shadowed with regret. “It was never my aim to kick yours.”
Parker often felt that he might drown in the depths of those eyes, and the feeling came over him then, stronger than ever before. He bent his head toward hers, wanting, needing to kiss her. With each passing night that he held her in his arms, his physical yearnings became more and more urgent. He’d promised her that he would wait as long as she needed him to, but, damn, it was reaching a critical point for him.
Her eyes went soft with love for him, and to his surprise, her lips met his in soft surrender, issuing what he could only interpret as an invitation. A rushing sound pounded against his eardrums as he claimed her mouth. His heart started to beat so hard that he felt sure it might fracture one of his ribs. Rainie. He’d never wanted any woman as intensely as he wanted her. Her mouth. She tasted so damn sweet, like mulled wine with a touch of cinnamon. Always before, Parker had been cautious while kissing her, not wanting to do anything that might remind her of Danning. But this time he lost it, delving deep into the recesses of her mouth with his tongue, tracing the shape of her small teeth, teasing the sensitive skin between her lips and her gums. Rainie. God, how he loved her. The emotion roiled through him with volcanic force, and he no longer felt certain he had the strength of will to hold himself back.
“Showtime!” Jericho yelled from the opposite end of the arena. “I got tickets, ten bucks a head.”
Parker jerked back to reality, realizing with a shock that he’d run his hands under Rainie’s T-shirt and had been about to touch her breasts right there in front of God and everybody. Fiery heat rushed up his neck to pool in his face. He straightened quickly away from her and dropped his arms. She teetered toward him before catching her balance. Parker half expected her to blush with embarrassment and run for cover. Instead her beautiful eyes filled with a mischievous twinkle, and her soft mouth curved into a sultry, flirtatious smile.
“Later, cowboy.”
He could scarcely believe his ears. Later? Could that possibly mean what he hoped it meant? He took careful measure of her expression, but before he could get a good reading on her, she danced away on the balls of her feet and resumed a fighting stance. With no little effort, Parker forced his mind back onto the training session.
They’d been practicing her takedown kicks and punches for days, and until this morning, Parker had always managed to dodge the blows. Now that he’d been treated to a fist in his eye socket, he no longer felt quite so confident in his ability to parry her thrusts. At the same time, he still didn’t feel she was ready for him to curtail the one-on-one sparring. The more she practiced with him, the better prepared she would be for Danning.
“Okay, you obviously have your punching technique mastered,” he said as they circled each other. “So let’s work on your kicks for a while.”
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“Because you got in one lucky hit?” Parker circled her, ready to dodge whatever came his way. “Don’t wimp out on me. You’re gettin’ good, darlin’, but you’re not yet that good. Come at me with everything you’ve got.”
It had become her habit to call out a warning before she took aim at a part of his body. “Knees!” she cried, and then came at him like a little whirlwind.
Parker bounced to one side so her foot met with empty air. “Excellent form,” he told her. “More force, though. Put everything you’ve got into it. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
After recovering her balance, she came at him again. “Groin!”
Parker angled his body to take the force of the blow on his thigh. “Good job!”
“Stomach!” she cried next.
He folded at the waist to minimize the impact as her foot connected with his belly. “Awesome, Rainie. You’re so quick now that he’ll never see it comin’.”
“Groin!” she yelled again.
Parker turned at the waist to take the blow on his thigh again, but her foot came at him with such speed that he didn’t react quickly enough. Pain. It exploded in his scrotum and shot up into his lower abdomen. A red haze blinded him. Dimly he was aware that he dropped like a fallen tree, his knees hitting the dirt with such force that the dust mushroomed in a cloud around him. Oh, God. Crossing his wrists, he thrust his hands between his thighs, hunched forward, and then rolled onto his side. Nausea crawled up his throat. The pain was so intense that he couldn’t even breathe.
As if from a great distance, he heard Rainie saying, “Parker? Oh, God, Parker, are you all right? Talk to me. Please. Are you okay?”
Hell, no, he wasn’t okay. He’d be singing soprano for the rest of his natural life. He curled into a fetal position, still struggling to inflate his lungs. Sweet Christ. He felt Rainie’s arms come around his shoulders. A hot, wet tear struck his jaw.
“I’m so sorry! Oh, Parker, I’m so sorry!” She struggled to turn him over, but didn’t have the s
trength. “Why didn’t you dodge the kick? I called out the warning. You always give me such a hard time if I hold anything back that I just . . .” She tightened her arms around him. “Please be all right. I never meant to actually hurt you.”
Parker blinked the world back into focus, and his lungs finally started to work again. The pain was starting to ease up. “I think we’re done practicin’ one-on-one. From now on, you’ll just have to work with the bag.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, honey.” Parker still felt as if he might puke. What if she’d turned him into a eunuch, and he could never make love to her? Just the thought of having sex made his abused testicles start throbbing again. He concentrated on his breathing, not wanting to humiliate himself by vomiting. “I’ll be all right. Just give me a minute.”
Jericho came limping over. Shifting his weight onto his good leg, he folded his arms and grinned. “I think you’ve created a monster, boss. She flat nailed you where it hurts.”
Parker could not see the humor. He made a mental note to wipe that smirk off Jericho’s face when he finally got back on his feet.
“Would you like me to help you to the house?” Rainie asked. “Maybe some ice will help.”
Ice? Not on his balls, no how, no way. Parker groaned and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, whether it was for only a couple of minutes or an hour, but finally the pain receded enough that he was able to sit up. Rainie still knelt beside him, her small, delicately carved face pale with concern.
“I’m all right,” he assured her. “No permanent damage done.” He hoped. He’d taken blows to the crotch several times, but never a dead-on kick. He sat there until he felt certain he could stand up without assistance. “My own damned fault, I guess. You don’t tell a woman to come at you with everything she’s got unless you expect her to do it.”
“I really am sorry.”
He thought he heard just a hint of a smile in her voice and sent her a wondering look. Sure enough, the corners of her mouth were trying to tip up, and her eyes danced with unmistakable delight. She shrugged, and her gaze went chasing off to the opposite end of the stable.
“I’m just—” She broke off and swallowed. “Amazed, I guess is the word. You’re so much bigger than me, and stronger, too. I never dreamed you could actually teach me how to take someone like you to his knees.”
Parker hooked an arm around her shoulders. “Help me to the office, Killer.”
She giggled and hugged his waist. En route to the corridor, Parker decided no permanent damage had been done to his balls. The bump of her hip against his thigh felt too damned good.
Once inside the office, she turned to him and said, “I feel so liberated.”
“Liberated?”
She hugged herself and spun in a circle, her beautiful hair flowing out around her. “Yes, liberated!” She whirled to a stop, her eyes large and luminous as they sought his. “I’m not afraid of him anymore. I know I can protect myself. Unless he’s got a gun, of course, but Peter is too into up close and personal for that. If he comes at me with a knife, no problem. I think I can disarm him.”
“Do you now?” A warm, light feeling moved through Parker’s chest. From the start of her training, this had been his goal, to see that marvelous glow of self-assurance on her face. “That’s great, sweetheart.”
The feeling of accomplishment still hadn’t left Rainie when she got home that evening. For the first time since her return, she didn’t quake with fear when she entered. If Peter was hiding somewhere, he’d better be ready for one hell of a fight. After locking up, she marched straight into the kitchen. She sat at the table with a tall glass of iced tea and an apple as a snack. As she munched on crisp bites of fruit, her thoughts turned to Parker, and wondrous warmth filled her. True to his promise, he’d remained content with friendship, but now Rainie finally felt ready for more. Correction: She wanted more. That kiss today. Her eyes swept closed on a rush of sweet yearning. Parker. As a child, she’d listened to her mother read fairy tales, and deep in her heart, she’d always believed that someday her very own prince would come into her life. And now, at long last, he actually had. He even had a dashing steed.
The thought made her grin. Pushing up from the table, she went to her bedroom to go through her drawers, hoping to find something sexy to wear. Peter Danning wasn’t the only man she now felt prepared to disarm. She just needed slightly different weapons. Problem: While she was shopping for clothing at Goodwill, seductive lingerie hadn’t been on her must-have list. She had nothing but modest night-gowns and goofy-looking nightshirts in her drawers. Her underwear was equally boring.
Turning to the closet, she saw one of Parker’s shirts on a hanger. He’d gotten into the habit of sometimes bringing a fresh change of clothes when he spent the night, and he’d left the shirt behind one morning. She had washed it and meant to give it back to him the next time he came, but she’d forgotten. Hmm. She pulled the shirt from the hanger and held it up in front of her. After she had a long soak in the tub, gave some special attention to her hair, dabbed her homemade perfume in strategic places, and added a little makeup, the shirt just might do the trick, especially with nothing on underneath it.
Her gaze drifted to the door casing where the bug was located. That definitely had to be moved. She had plans for this bedroom, and she didn’t want any FBI agents listening in.
That night Parker arrived at Rainie’s late, and he was worried about leaving her alone for so long. No help for it. One of his horses had gone down, and he’d had to call Tucker over to diagnose the problem, which turned out to be colic. After treating the mare, Parker had felt it necessary to wait for his foreman, Toby, to get back from town before he left the stable. He trusted no one else with an ailing equine, and colic could be deadly. Only Toby had an experienced enough eye to know if the animal was taking a turn for the worse. The foreman also knew what to do if that happened.
When Parker reached Rainie’s back porch, he was out of breath from running the entire six blocks from his truck to her backyard. Since the second call from Agent Brandson, she’d fallen into the habit of keeping the kitchen lights off until he arrived to avoid arousing suspicion in case Danning was watching. Pressing close against the house to stay concealed by the dark shadows cast by the eave, he heard the television on inside the house. It sounded like a satellite music channel. Normally Rainie kept the television off until after he was inside, and even then, as per the FBI’s request, she kept the volume low. It was up a notch louder than usual.
Parker’s guts clenched. What if Danning was in there and had cranked up the volume a little because he knew the house was bugged? Every muscle in Parker’s body snapped taut.
Stay calm. He couldn’t go off half-cocked and kick the door in. He reached sideways to tap lightly four times on the wood, spacing the knocks in a special tattoo so Rainie would know it was him. He sent up a silent prayer that she would answer right away. If anything happened to her . . . Parker couldn’t even go there in his mind. He’d come to love that girl so damned much. How he would live without her, he didn’t know, and he never wanted to find out.
An instant later, he heard the dead bolt slide free. Thank you, God. Then the portal cracked open.
“Hi,” she said in a stage whisper. “You’re late.”
He leaped up onto the porch and ducked inside. In the shadows, he saw Rainie move past him to refasten the lock. Then, before he could ask why she had the music turned on, she was in his arms, as delicious, warm, and sweet-smelling as fresh-baked apple pie. He gathered her close and felt only feminine softness under soft cotton. No bra? He ran a hand up her spine, his fingertips doing a quick search for a telltale band of elastic. Definitely no bra.
While he was pondering that discovery, she cupped his face in her slender hands and kissed him, her lips parted, her tongue darting between his teeth. Parker didn’t know what to think. Was this Rainie? She was definitely issuing him an invitation—the k
ind that red-blooded, virile males had been eagerly accepting since the beginning of time. He ran his hand down the curve of her back, exploring with his fingers to find where the cloth of her top ended. Down, down, down. Not a top, he decided, but a shirt of some kind. Finally he came to bare, silken thigh. With a flick of his wrist, he dipped his hand under the material, and his palm met with soft, naked buttock.
Parker felt as if an M-80 detonated inside of his brain. Red flares of light flashed behind his closed eyes, and if he’d had a rational thought in his head a moment earlier, he didn’t now. She locked her arms around his neck and jumped to loop her legs around his waist. Holy hell. His arms were filled with warm, soft, willing woman. And then she was kissing him again, robbing him of the ability to think clearly, let alone muster any self-control.
She was all over him, her sweet mouth devouring his, her teeth nipping lightly at his tongue and lips, her unfettered breasts pressing softly against his upper chest. Parker still had a handful of soft, silken buttock, and he wanted to feel a whole lot more. Pivoting on one heel, he sandwiched her between him and the wall to help support her weight with the press of his body. Hands freed to explore, he skimmed his palms over her soft rump to find the dip of silken skin where the fullness tapered into firm, satiny thighs. Oh, yeah. With searching fingertips, he homed in on the feminine crevice between her legs until he found the tufts of damp, passion-slicked curls that guarded honeyed folds of hot, wet flesh.
Whoa, boy. Only his hands didn’t seem to be receiving the messages from his befuddled brain. It can’t happen this way. But somehow it was. He’d fishtailed into a downhill skid, and none of his brakes seemed to be working.
“Not like this,” he managed to murmur against her lips between hard, jagged breaths. “Not like this.”
She made fists in his hair, covered his lips with hers, and invaded his mouth with a tongue so sweet and tantalizing that every rational thought in his head leaked out through his ears. Rainie.
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