‘Ow! Whoa, there – Darcy?’ Dom grabbed her arms to prevent her from hitting him again, and she sagged against the wall, relief bringing tears to her eyes.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, shaking her head. ‘I’m so sorry.’ And she was – sorry for lying, for taking advantage of him, his generosity and his family, for putting them in danger.
She tried to resist, but he pulled her to him, dragging her away from Julia’s door. ‘Hey, Darce, what’s going on? It’s okay,’ he whispered, guiding her down the hall. His tone of voice was the same gentle murmur he’d used with the frightened four-year-old, all soothing and low. ‘It’s okay.’
She shook her head, her tears leaving warm wet tracks on her cheeks. ‘No, it’s not okay. I have to leave. Now. I’m so sorry.’
Dom halted and stared down at her, and she could just make out his frown in the darkness. ‘Talk to me in here,’ he said abruptly, and walked her into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
He left her at the door, then later soft light spilled from a lamp by the bed, gently illuminating the warm tones of his room, the cream and black brocade of his bedspread, the bronze drop of curtains framing the bay window, the colours creating a serene, masculine interior.
He stood by the bed, bathed in the soft light, his arms folded as he watched her. Darcy stayed where she was, where she felt she belonged, in the gloomy darkness by the door.
He stepped closer to her. ‘Now, what’s got you all upset?’ he asked her quietly.
She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘I need to leave.’
‘Why?’ His question was calmly stated, polite almost.
She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. Everything had changed. The men who were after her, they would stop at nothing to get her, and were prepared to use any means necessary. She couldn’t risk it – couldn’t risk Dom, or the kids.
‘I just – I need to go,’ she told him, folding her arms again, trying not to reach out for him, to hold him.
His hands brushed her arms. She recoiled, realising she was trembling. She didn’t deserve his comfort. ‘Please,’ she implored him. She would go, with or without his blessing.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, gently stroking her arm.
She frowned. ‘Why? What do you have to be sorry for?’
His hand dropped to his side. ‘I rushed you, obviously. I’ve perhaps even scared you. I’m sorry.’ He held up his hands. ‘It won’t happen again.’
Her jaw dropped, and she hesitated. It would be so easy to use that excuse, to let him think it was his fault. She shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered, stepping closer. Ah, hell. She couldn’t let him blame himself, not on top of everything else. She sighed. Everything she did, everything she said, had a toxic effect. ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ she said glumly.
He looked down at her and slowly arched an eyebrow. ‘Did you just use the “it’s not you, it’s me” line on me? You did,’ he said in disbelief. He reached for her, gently clasping her arms in his firm grip. ‘Tell me what’s going on, Darcy,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she said, blinking back tears. ‘Just – just let me go.’
‘Is it something I said? Something I did?’ He lowered his chin, trying to maintain the eye contact she was desperate to avoid. ‘Whatever it is, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to drive you from my home.’ His blue eyes were earnest, worried. ‘Tell me so I can fix it.’
She laughed bitterly. God, what she wouldn’t give to have this whole nightmare ‘fixed’. ‘You can’t,’ she told him. She held up her hands. ‘I just need to go.’
He stared at her for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before he finally nodded. ‘Is this how it works?’ he asked her, his voice low. ‘Things get too real, and you run?’
‘What?’ She gaped at him. She’d expected him to be the perfect gentleman, to sigh and then make the necessary arrangements for her to leave. Not to – to question her, or to argue. She tried to defend, to deflect. Maybe she did have to hurt him to save him. Her heart felt as heavy as stone as she picked her words carefully. ‘Is the great Dominic St James struggling with rejection?’
‘Trust me, the great Dominic St James can take no for an answer, and never forces a woman. You want to leave? Fine, just don’t lie to me and tell me it’s because you don’t want me. You wanted that kiss downstairs just as much as I did,’ he whispered harshly. ‘And now you want to go? Why?’
Heat flamed her cheeks. ‘I think it would be best,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘What, best for me?’ he asked, gesturing to himself. He shook his head. ‘Or best for you?’
‘Best for both of us,’ she responded, hurt growing at his attitude. This was so difficult – so much more difficult than she’d expected, than she’d ever wanted.
‘I don’t think so. I think you felt something downstairs, and don’t want to admit it.’
Her eyes narrowed as his remark hit right where it hurt the most – the truth. She did feel something – something big and tremendous and magnificent and scary, all at once. But she had no business feeling those somethings, not when she couldn’t offer anything of herself in return.
A muscle flexed in his jaw. ‘You know, I couldn’t understand at first, why you would live your life out of the back of a van.’ He shook his head. ‘A gypsy? Come on. You’re a road runner.’
She frowned. ‘A what?’
‘A road runner. As soon as things get too hot, someone gets too close to you, you hit the road running.’
She felt the blood cool in her cheeks at his insight. He had no idea just how right he was. ‘You don’t know me,’ she muttered to him. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’
She turned to grab the door knob, and halted when his hand covered hers. She faced the door, waiting.
‘Don’t go,’ he whispered, his breath shivering across the nape of her neck. ‘Please, stay.’
CHAPTER
16
It was the second time tonight he’d used those words on her, and she shook her head, images of her father’s dejected figure, of the charred ruins of his house, just like her life, whirling in her mind.
‘I can’t.’ Her breath hitched on the last word.
‘You want to,’ he murmured into her ear, stepping up close behind her until their bodies touched. She trembled, and knew he could feel it.
‘I need to leave,’ she said, trying to be strong. She needed to go – to run, to be alone and lonely, with no one to turn to, nobody to hurt.
‘I need you to stay.’ His lips kissed her ear, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes. His body was so strong, so warm against her back, the wooden panelling of the door so hard and unforgiving against her front. It was tempting to relax into his arms, to have him enfold her, make her forget her troubles, her worries, her almost paralysing fears. With him she felt completely safe, the only threat was to her heart, and she could be convinced to risk it.
‘Stay with me,’ he said, biting at her earlobe. Her knees weakened and she sagged against him, needing his support. ‘I want you, Darcy. I want you so much.’ His arms stole around her, crossing over to hold each of her breasts.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ she wailed, tears pricking her eyelids as her vulnerability, her fear, leached out. He chuckled, and she felt the rumble in his chest at her back. It rolled through her, and made her breasts swell.
‘I’m a big boy,’ he told her, his tongue delving into the swirl of her ear. ‘I think I can handle it.’ His hands moved against her breasts, and she moaned.
She leaned against him. She’d leave tomorrow. She’d give him his safety back. For tonight, she’d take his warmth, his strength, his protection. She stood on tiptoe, arching her back, pressing her breasts into his hands. Tomorrow, she’d run, but tonight – tonight she’d love.
His lips trailed a path down her neck as he pressed against her. She could feel his erection, hot and heavy. She wiggled against him, and he pinched her nipp
le in retaliation – not too painful, but enough to set her core on fire. She turned her head, and he kissed her, hot and wet, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He wasn’t gentle, his lips moving with the confidence of a man who knew how to pleasure a woman.
She slid her arm up to twine around the back of his neck. His hand left her right breast to tour down over her flat stomach in a slow caress. His hand fisted the material of her top, pulling it up slowly until he revealed the waistband of her shorts. She flinched when she felt the pop of the button, the slide of the zipper so loud in the silence of the bedroom, broken only by their heavy breathing as their tongues tangled.
His hand delved under the waistband of both her shorts and her underpants and she gasped when he slid a finger inside her.
Oh God, the man was wickedly talented. He strummed her until she tore her lips from his, panting as though she’d run a race, her pulse hammering in her ears.
She turned in his arms, whimpering at the loss of his touch. She faced him, entwining both arms around his neck, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder as she pulled his head down to hers. He backed her up against the door, her body thumping as it hit the wood. He reared back for a moment, the length of time it took to grab the hem of her flowing top and whip it off over her head.
He looked down at her for a moment, staring at her naked breasts. ‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he murmured as he pulled her to him, lifting her up into his arms, holding her between his body and the door. ‘So beautiful,’ he breathed, his tongue flicking out to rasp against her nipple.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as his lips found her breast, pulling her nipple into his mouth and sucking on it with a fervour that had her writhing against him in delight.
She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling on it until she’d tugged his head back, and she kissed him hotly. He straightened, holding her against his hips as he turned and walked to the bed, bringing her into the soft light of the lamp.
He lowered her, pausing a moment to tug his shirt impatiently over his head. She licked her lips. The man was gorgeous, all sculpted abs and ridged muscles. His hand went to her hips, and she lifted them, shivering when he pulled her shorts and knickers off in one smooth movement.
‘Your turn,’ she told him, sitting up to fumble with the button and fly of his jeans. He helped, their teamwork resulting in a number of garments dropping to the plush cream carpet in record time. Darcy smiled in satisfaction as she finally got to see Dominic St James naked. He had a very light dusting of dark hair across his chest that arrowed like a runway beacon to his rigid shaft. The man was well built, hard muscle everywhere, and his blue eyes were almost silver with desire as he followed her down onto the bed, kissing her as he lowered his weight.
His hand glided over her stomach, hesitating at the raised skin. He pulled back, despite her protest, and gazed at her abdomen, tracing the scar. It was still a little red, and Darcy bit her lip, feeling self-conscious at his discovery.
‘What happened here?’ he asked softly.
She shrugged. ‘Just an accident,’ she responded. She’d accidentally run into a knife.
‘Looks like it hurt,’ he murmured, meeting her gaze.
She grimaced. That was an understatement. ‘But it’s healed,’ she said, raising her arms to his shoulders, ‘and I’d rather focus on something else at the moment.’
He laughed huskily as he leaned into her embrace. She sighed in bliss at the skin-to-skin contact of their bodies. Her tongue rubbed against his, his warm hands smoothing and gliding all over her body. She felt delirious with desire, stroking her hands over the corded muscle of his back. His lips left hers, blazing a hot trail as his mouth retraced the territory his hands had just explored, her body tightening as her arousal built steadily.
The man wasn’t in a hurry, content to learn her body with a sensual intimacy that was breathtaking, exquisite and frustrating.
By the time he rose over her she was beyond ready for him, her body wet and hungry. He held himself still, looking down at her, poised at her entrance.
‘Tell me you want this,’ he said, perspiration dotting his brow.
She nodded. ‘Oh, I want this,’ she said honestly. She did, she was on stimulation overdrive, the mere thought of him withdrawing enough to send her body into a mini meltdown.
‘No running from this,’ he told her, still holding back.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she smiled to hide them. ‘No running.’ Not tonight.
He slid inside, and her hips rose to welcome him. Slowly, sensually, he made love to her, keeping the darkness at bay.
CHAPTER
17
Darcy’s eyes fluttered open. They felt gritty – she’d left her contacts in. The lamp was still on, although the sky was lightening outside the floor-to-ceiling bay windows. A solid wall of muscle warmed her back, a heavy arm was draped across her waist, and a sheet was pulled over her naked body.
She’d slept with Dominic. Well, when they’d eventually slept. The man was insatiable. Heat suffused her cheeks when she remembered what they’d done the night before, and how many times. No wonder she was so deliciously sore.
But the kids would be awake soon. She didn’t want Jonah or Julia to find them like this, and she didn’t think Dom would, either. She tried to slip out of bed, but his arm tightened around her, pulling her close to his body.
Her eyes widened as she felt him move against her bottom. The man was awake, apparently.
‘Good morning, Darce,’ he whispered against her ear, and she shivered, her nipples tightening in reaction. She rolled back to face him.
‘Good morning, Dom.’
He opened an eye and stared at her lazily. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ A smile curled at his lips, and her breath caught. The man was truly stunning. A dark shadow of hair graced his jaw, his blue eye twinkling with mischief as he smiled sexily. Dark, ruffled and totally wicked.
‘Back to my room before the kids wake up,’ she told him.
His other eye opened, and he glanced at the door. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh.’
She kissed him briefly on the lips, marvelling that she could kiss this man good morning at all, and slid backwards out of the sheet. He grasped her hand, stopping her, looking at her intently, his gaze touring her tousled hair, her naked body.
‘God, you’re gorgeous to wake up to,’ he told her, and she laughed softly as he pulled her back into bed.
‘So are you, but the kids will be waking up soon.’ She opened her mouth when he kissed her deeply, then put her hand against his chest and pulled back. It would be embarrassing for Julia and Jonah to find her in bed with their dad, and probably very difficult for them to process. She didn’t want to put Dom in an awkward position, either.
‘Then we’d better make the most of the time we’ve got,’ he murmured against her lips before kissing her soundly once more.
She let him drag her over him, his arms embracing her with a gentle strength before gliding down to her hips. She trailed her hands down the chest she’d explored in great detail during the night, relishing the tightly coiled strength at her fingertips. She toyed with him, hearing him suck in a breath as she flicked his nipple with her fingernail. She smiled against his lips as her hand lowered and found his thickening cock. She pumped it lazily, and he hissed with pleasure, throwing his head back, eyes closed as she caressed him.
After a moment he covered her hand with his, eyeing her with a slumberous gaze dark with arousal. ‘I want to last a little longer,’ he told her, and grasped her waist, lifting her over him.
She settled happily, taking him inside her body yet again. This time, though, it was different. Slower, gentler, the first flush of passion replaced with something deeper, more meaningful, as she rode him to fulfilment. He let her take her pleasure, smiling as her body exploded with sensation, before he rolled her over and made love to her with a gentle fierceness that stole her breath and had her climbing one thrill
after another until they both shattered with intense pleasure.
Dom finally rolled off her, still maintaining contact with his fingers spread across her abdomen. They were both sweaty and breathless.
‘Now, I have to go,’ she rasped.
He nodded, raising his hand slightly. ‘Okay,’ he gasped, then swallowed, grinning at her.
She smiled as she quickly gathered her clothes, pulling her shorts on and pocketing her undies, then pulling the top on over her head, wincing at the ache in her shoulder. She’d given her arm a hell of a workout, and the muscles had tightened as she’d slept.
She turned back to the bed. Dominic blinked sleepily and grinned. She froze for a moment, trying to memorise the image he presented, all sleepy-warm and sexed out.
She smiled, opened the door and checked the hall. The coast was clear. She stepped out, closing the door silently behind her, then tiptoed down the corridor until she reached her room. It wasn’t until she was inside, door closed and sitting on her bed that she let the tears come.
She felt as though she’d just sold a little of her soul for that one night of pleasure in Dominic’s arms.
She and Dominic had made love, and it had been beautiful. He didn’t want her to go. She could deride herself, tell herself it was because he liked getting laid, but that not only put her in a bad light, but also Dominic, and he didn’t deserve that. No, she had feelings for the man, and she sensed he had feelings for her – and it was all based on lies.
She’d woken up calmer, more in control, safer in Dom’s arms. Now that fear wasn’t ruling her actions, she had time to think past her emotions. What should she do?
They’d gone after her father. Why, after all this time? She’d been on the road for months, and hidden away long before that. Obviously, the court case was looming. She checked her watch, squinting. Two weeks. Mark must be getting desperate. Still – her father? When he’d already lost so much? Why bother?
Her fingers toyed with her St Florian medal, her mouth turned down at the corners. St Florian was the patron saint of firefighters, and her father had given her his medallion when she’d first had to leave, all those months ago. He’d given her his talisman of protection, leaving himself vulnerable and threatened, and guilt burned in her gut.
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