by CJ Snyder
“Enough for tonight, Max,” she whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind with a prayer that he wouldn’t shut her out again.
“It isn’t enough,” he whispered back. “I don’t know where they are.”
“But you will. And we’re going to find her. Alive.”
For once he didn’t argue and he allowed her to turn the swivel chair. She dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled his head down to her shoulder–just the way she’d comfort Lizzie if she were here.
She held him until the last of the stiffness eased from his body, and when he lifted his head and looked at her, there wasn’t a trace of that other Max left. No, the eyes that stared back at her belonged to her, forever, and he told her that without a word. “Lay with me,” he urged, as his hands slid up her back to her shoulders and down her arms. He pulled her to her feet and then up against him, holding her as he had the night before with his cheek resting atop her head and his arms a secure haven around her. Tonight she had neither the inclination or the will to protest.
“This isn’t laying,” she murmured, lifting her head to find his eyes.
“I’m trying to figure out how to skip the couch and get you in bed.” For all that his voice was calm, his eyes were still anguished. She couldn’t refuse him anything.
“Teach me,” she whispered. “How to concentrate like you do. How to put it all away. It’s too much and I need. . .I need–“
Max quieted her words with a barely veiled sample of exactly what she needed. Kat threw herself from desperate worry over Lizzie to the equally intense emotions his kiss invoked. When he pulled away moments later, it was with a groan. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Wild, hot need tumbled over a solid bed of the same everlasting love she saw reflected in his eyes. The two together stole her voice, her very breath, so she nodded, hoping her eyes would speak for her. Max gave a single nod in response to hers, and swept her up into his arms. “Tonight we’ll do us,” he said, and started down the hall with her. It sounded like a promise, but could she? Somewhere out in the chilly evening, Lizzie was alone, for the second night in a row.
“Stop.” He uttered the command as her feet hit the floor inside her bedroom.
“I can’t. She’s–“
He silenced her with another kiss, more mind numbing than the last. “Just us, baby. You. Me. Together. Right now. Say it.”
Fearful, sure it wouldn’t work, sure also she’d die if it didn’t, she stammered out his words. “Us.”
“Good.” He kissed her, warm and deep. “You.”
“You,” she whispered against his mouth. “Me.”
“Very good,” he soothed and eased her back onto the bed. “Together.”
“Together.” She really could drown in his eyes.
He unwound her arms from around him, stretched them out on the bed beside her. “Here’s the boundary of our reality.” He traced her arms from her shoulders to her fingertips and then slid down her body to her toes, removing her boots as he did. “Here.” His strong hands cleared a fiery path back up to her heart, where he dropped a soft kiss. “And here.”
A single beam of moonlight spilled in from the window, illuminating only their faces. Kat glimpsed his heart in his eyes and swam for it like a buoy. His hands cupped her face, gentle, as if he held a fragile flower. “Be mine tonight, Kat. Like you were.”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He eased her shirt out of the waistband of her skirt, and cool air heightened the heat of his fingers as they played over her ribs. “You’re not going to stop me, are you?” He sounded almost anxious.
“No.” She needed to forget.
“I’m going to keep you up all night.” His fingers crept higher, but so slowly she tried to scoot down the bed to hasten the contact she craved. His body held her pinned and his slow smile was a little too smug for her liking. “You haven’t changed, Kat.”
“I’d forgotten.” She tried to make the words a pout, but couldn’t stop the decided plea in her tone.
“How good it feels?”
“How obnoxious you can be.”
He laughed outright at that but nuzzled her throat and then down, opening two buttons of her shirt.
Kat tried to stifle a moan.
“Cancel your appointments for tomorrow.”
Once again, she tried to shift her body. “No, I’ll be fine. I don’t sleep much.” Again, he denied her the contact she craved.
“You will when I’m finished with you.” His lips slipped down one more button.
Her heart caught in her throat. “I can’t just cancel.”
“Yeah, you can.” He extricated one hand from under her shirt and reached for the phone on her night stand. His other hand continued to stroke up her ribs. “What’s your secretary’s name?”
“Pam.”
Max rewarded her with a kiss that left her soaring and with a craving she’d do anything to ease. “Good girl. Dial the number.” His thumb whispered over the aching peak of her breast, offering a promise, nothing more.
Kat gave a cry of frustration, muttered, “This is blackmail!” and punched speed dial one.
Max found the side of her skirt. “I know.” The zipper slid down as the phone began to ring.
Pam’s recorded message spilled out into the room. Max brushed her nipple again. This time her cry was a full-fledged groan.
“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Jannsen’s office.”
Max found her ear, tasting her lobe.
“Leave a message and we’ll get back to you.”
Max whispered, “Cancel my appointments, Pam.”
In the six years Pam had worked for her, Kat had never once dated anyone and Pam knew it. Kat knew that was her only chance at discretion. Otherwise her husky murmur was sure to be obvious for the throaty desperation it was.
Max wasn’t done. His fingers now crept up her bare leg. “I don’t know when I’ll be in today.”
Kat clamped a hand over the receiver because she couldn’t stop her moan as he gave “in” a different meaning.
He withdrew and she could hear his smile when he had to repeat the order. Even so, she stumbled through the hasty message then mindlessly dropped the phone to pull his mouth eagerly to her own.
Rewarded by the overwhelming sensations of his sure hands and his devastating kiss, Kat shattered. It was ages before she could breathe, minutes more before her whole-body shudders began to fade. When she opened her eyes, Max was waiting, wearing a wider, smugger version of that same smile.
“You don’t play fair,” she whispered, caught as always in the hidden message of his eyes.
“I play to win.”
“Then why are you sweating?” she taunted, running her fingers over his slick forehead.
“The battle’s not over.” His smoky eyes left her with little desire for any conversation at all.
“I surrender,” she whispered against his lips as he kissed her again, soft and sweet this time, as if he knew she couldn’t—not really.
“Not yet, but you will.” His fingers stroked deep inside her to prove his point, setting off the tremors all over again, his smile broadening. His lips traced her jaw, her cheekbone, and the soft warmth of his breath became the focus of her universe.
God help her, she knew it was true. She’d surrender. There was no escape from this dark whirlpool that was so much more than simple desire. A dangerous need welling up from somewhere so deeply buried, so primal, so damn elemental she’d never get enough. There was no Max. No Kat. Just one permanently broken soul.
“Please,” she whispered, reaching between them to unfasten his jeans.
“Yes,” he whispered back, and seconds later her skin sang as the strong solid mass of him covered her. Breathless with anticipation of this moment she’d dreamed of for so long, she was surprised when he stilled her restless movements, framing her face with his hands, capturing her stare. His fingers skimmed her arms from her elbows to her own finge
rtips, locking their hands together.
“I’ve waited so damn long, Kat. Too long.” He kissed her, his mouth whisper soft and yet hard.
“Don’t wait. Make me forget, Max. Teach me how to do what you do.”
“There’s so much I still need to tell you.” His voice, that wonderful combination of melted chocolate and champagne, actually trembled. Kat’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away so she could see. “I don’t ever want lies or half-truths between us again.”
Her tears streamed harder and she shook her head. She had to tell him–now–even if it destroyed the dream she’d lived for all those years. She opened her mouth but he shook his head and kissed her again.
“Not now. Now I need to be inside you, one with you. But I want you to know, I wasn’t whole when I left you. I haven’t been whole since. Until now.”
He filled her and Kat closed her eyes. She didn’t deserve this–not this man–not this much sweet joy. She couldn’t stop her tears, even as her long-starved body began the exquisite dance memorized so long ago.
Her eyes opened in protest when he abruptly stopped. She found him staring down at her, deadly serious and grave. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”
She nodded helplessly. “More than anything.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I need to–to tell you–“
”I know,” he whispered, lowering his forehead to hers. His words were almost a moan. “I know. More than a decade, but I need this first. You’re icy cold water and I’m dying of thirst. You’re clean fresh air and I’ve been underwater for an hour. And I love you so much I’ll die if I can’t have you–all of you–right now.”
This time when he kissed her, the urgency wasn’t veiled. This time he demanded her attention, her response...her soul. Thirsty and suffocating herself, Kat wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and shut off her mind. Later, she promised herself. What difference would an hour make?
##
It wasn’t an hour. It wasn’t even half a dozen. Max refused to allow serious conversation and it seemed both their bodies were anxious to make up for the years apart. Sometime after midnight, Max went to the kitchen for apples, cheese and a bottle of wine. At four she took a final sip of wine and set it on her night stand resolutely.
“Max,” she began, but he hushed her with a kiss, then settled her head on his shoulder.
“Not tonight, baby,” he chided, not for the first time. “Tonight’s not for the past. Tonight’s a new beginning for us. Together. We’ll deal with the past tomorrow.”
Guilt warred with utter contentment. Contentment won when Max’s chuckle rumbled under her ear.
“If you’re feeling like you don’t have a say in this night, you’re right, but I will give you a choice.”
Kat waited, happy to feel his fingers sliding through her hair. She still couldn’t resist his smile. Not when it came from his eyes and captured her heart all over again. This was Max and for all the years between, she knew she was home once again.
He rolled suddenly, trapping her under him. She protested but only half-heartedly. “I thought I had a choice.”
“You do.” He stroked her face–the ridge above her eyes, her high cheekbones, her nose. “You can sleep in my arms or you can let me kiss you again.” He made the choice for her and Kat’s sigh was one of ecstasy. Her body seemed to float, hovering just above the bed on a soft cloud of stolen happiness.
When she woke again, rain pelted the window, a soothing sound that could have been going on for minutes or hours. Max held her spooned tight, one leg flung over hers, his arm snugged her waist, his fingers curled around her wrist. The long, lean length of his skin on hers sent little bubbles of contentment and joy soaring through her blood. Desire, too, though it was now a desire laced with patience, not the starved, suffocated need of the night before. This was Max, the miracle she’d held in her hands and then watched disappear. If she didn’t tell him now, it could happen again–could happen because she hadn’t told him, but she couldn’t stall any longer.
She slitted one eye open. Eleven o’clock. Both eyes opened wide. Eleven! She never slept this late.
“Don’t even think about it.” Max’s arms, even his leg, squeezed her closer while his growl sounded in her ear.
Kat willed her suddenly tense body to relax. She could tell him–right here, right now, but she had to see his eyes as she did. If she relaxed, he would too, and allow her to at least turn over and see him. Her actions didn’t fool either of them.
In one smooth move, he eased away from her, rolled her to her back and pinned her. “Ahh, hell, baby. Don’t you ever stop?” Max softened the bitter complaint with soft kisses on each cheek.
“It’s eleven.” Excuse or explanation? Even she didn’t know which. “I need to talk to you–to tell you. . .about Lizzie.” His forehead touched hers, and his eyes closed, but not before she’d seen the deep ache there.
“What about Lizzie?”
Chapter Eight
Kat felt time freeze. She’d been wrong. Very wrong. She couldn’t tell him, not when he was this close. Better to put some distance between them. She touched his face, molding her fingertips to the strong angles and planes, reluctant to push him away but nearly frantic to have him gone. “I’ll make some coffee.”
“No.”
That surprised her, stilling the hands that had already moved to his shoulders to urge him off of her. “You don’t want coffee?”
“No coffee. No kitchen. No walls. Tell me.”
A trembling, born of guilt and the fear that this time she’d lose him because of her actions, started deep inside, working its way quickly to the surface. Max lifted his head, running one hand lightly over her arm, his expression resigned but still reflecting so much love it made tears well up in her eyes.
“Are you involved in it, Kat?”
Involved? in Lizzie’s kidnapping? Shock doused the tears, sent her gaze crashing into his. “No! Except. . .” I’m her mother. The words wouldn’t come. But they had to. She tried again. “I. She–“
Next to her ear, the phone rang. His. The summons achieved what Kat couldn’t. Max rolled off of her and sat on the edge of the bed. Kat made her escape, out the other side, into the bathroom where she grabbed a robe, screaming at herself for her cowardice. Nevertheless, hiding from Max, and from the news his phone call might herald, she scurried into the kitchen and started her coffee pot. Her phone rang and she checked the caller ID before picking it up. She definitely wasn’t in the mood to talk to her dentist’s office.
It was Pam, calling on her cell. Why wasn’t she at the office? “What’s up?”
“What isn’t?” Pam sounded breathless and nearly as out-of-control as Kat felt. “It’s good you didn’t come in today. Somebody called in a bomb threat. They cleared the whole building.” Kat reached for a chair. The news was chilling, but shouldn’t have left her legs shaking. “I’m going home, but I left my number and if they give the all-clear, I’ll go back. I thought you should know, not to come in, just in case you were going to.”
“Don’t go back.”
“I won’t, at least until they–“
”No. Don’t go back at all. Go shopping, or get a movie and go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kat wanted to say more, to tell her invaluable assistant to be good to herself, to kiss her husband and sweet little boy. Pam would then proceed to make Kat an appointment with one of her colleagues. Kat shut her eyes. What was wrong with her? Emotions tumbled over each other inside, happy and sad, both demanding tears be shed. She cleared her voice. “Tomorrow,” she repeated firmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She set the phone down on the island with a deliberateness she didn’t feel and got to her feet. A bomb threat. Just a threat. They wouldn’t find anything, they rarely did. Fodder for coffee-break gossip, that’s all. So why did she feel so personally menaced? She used two hands to steady the coffee pot and poured a fat mug full of the steaming brew. Sweet
cream was in her hands before she realized she’d opened the refrigerator. Kat hadn’t used cream for years. This wasn’t the morning to start.
Still standing at the counter, she took two throat-scorching swallows.
“Lizzie isn’t Miriam’s.”
Kat’s mug clattered to the tile counter. It didn’t break, she thought dazedly, then lifted her head. She ordered her numb feet to turn, forced her gaze to meet his.
Max, dressed only in unbuttoned jeans, looked as dazed as she felt. “Initial blood tests.”
“I know.” When he looked even more confused, Kat cleared her throat. “Lizzie’s mine, Max. And yours.”