Falling For Mr. Dark & Dangerous

by Donna Alward

  “Thank you, Maggie, for the hospitality—and for the information.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, meaning it. She caught Jen in a quick hug. “Love you. Call when you get in. And I’ll see you soon.”

  Grant lifted a hand in farewell and jumped the two steps off the porch, Jen following behind.

  “Constable Simms?”

  He stopped. Maggie sensed Nate behind her and knew what she was about to say was as much for him as it was for Grant. “Be careful.”

  He smiled at her, a genuine, wide smile. She hadn’t known his face could change that much. He looked ten years younger. “I’m always careful.” His smile faded as he looked up at Nate, standing just behind her. “Nate…I’ll see you at the staging area at five. Get some sleep, will ya?”

  Nate nodded. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  He reached over and squeezed Maggie’s hand. “I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you later.”

  He left her on the cold porch, shivering in the frosty spring air and watching Grant and Jen drive away. More than ever, she had no idea what it was she wanted. She only knew she wanted it over.

  By midnight she was sufficiently worried. She’d heard nothing out of Nate since Grant’s departure, not a whisper of him moving around upstairs. The vision of his cut loomed before her eyes. He’d held it together during Grant’s visit, but she’d seen the gray pallor beneath his usual healthy color. She’d kept hoping he’d stir, perhaps come down to the kitchen for a snack. She’d bathed and changed into a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt, but nothing. Her conscience nagged at her, telling her to forget her hurt feelings and check on him. The few hours of frenetic activity had subsided. And she was left feeling raw and open. It brought back so many memories she’d tried to bury.

  She hated to wake him. He had to be up early and needed his rest. Yet…she was pretty sure he’d suffered some sort of a concussion.

  She crept upstairs, although she couldn’t figure out why. She was going wake him anyway, so why was she worried about making noise? Perhaps it was simply that now they were forced to tiptoe around each other. Hold a fragile balance. She didn’t feel prepared to tip the scales in favor of the anger or the hurt she felt. The betrayal at his lies and the fear of the danger he was putting himself in, all mixed together with gratitude that he was there in the first place. None of her emotions matched up and she was completely off balance.

  She opened his door. It was dark inside and he was in bed, sprawled beneath the covers. One ankle curved outside the quilt, the skin of his foot pale in the muted moonlight pouring through his window. His lips were slightly open in sleep, the white bandage on his head a stark reminder of all that had transpired that afternoon.

  She didn’t want to touch him. Not now. It would do nothing but stir up memories and futile longings.

  “Nate.” She whispered it, willing him to wake. But he never moved, his chest barely rising and falling.

  “Nate.” She put a little more force behind it, to no avail.

  Heart pounding, she sat tentatively on the edge of the bed. One of his arms was spread wide, his forearm sprinkled with dark hair visible under the edge of the blanket. She touched it lightly, the warm skin tingling on her fingertips. She’d never met a man like him. He was strong and deliberate, even in sleep.

  “Nathaniel,” she whispered, her throat tight.

  His lashes fluttered up as he opened his eyes. The turquoise color glowed darkly in the shadows, focusing on her face.

  “Maggie,” he murmured, the soft sound an endearment.

  Her body warmed. Lies or not, the undercurrent of desire hadn’t abated. She’d had time to think since the events of the afternoon, and even knowing there was no future for them, she understood his reasoning for secrets. He’d done it to protect her, to protect everyone, and had put himself in danger in the process. She didn’t like it but she understood it. He’d only done what he’d needed to do.

  What she didn’t understand was why he’d let things progress between them. Why he hadn’t kept his distance. If he was here on business, why hadn’t he kept it as business?

  But was that what she really wanted? Then she would have missed out on the last few weeks, and despite the pain, both from dredging up the past and from learning about his deception, she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry any of it had happened. She wasn’t sorry that he’d made her feel more alive than she had in years. She’d never be sorry he’d kissed her and held her.

  “I’ll go,” she murmured. “I wanted to make sure you were awake. You shouldn’t sleep for long periods at once.”

  “Stay.”

  He hadn’t moved. His foot curled around the blankets at the end of the bed, his arm stayed beneath the covers. But his eyes, and that one word, held her there.

  “Don’t,” she whispered. She swallowed. Hadn’t there been enough pretense today? He didn’t need to act like there was still something between them. The truth was out, and it was bigger than both of them.

  “Not everything about my being here was a lie, Maggie.”

  “How can you say that,” she whispered furiously. “It was a cover from the moment you called and gave your reservation to Jen.” She turned away from his gaze. “Your interest in me was a cover.”

  She didn’t want him. But even knowing it, her heart begged him to dispute it.

  The arm shifted. His fingers reached up until they touched the skin of her face and it was all she could do to not close her eyes at the tender touch. She couldn’t seem to move off the side of the bed, anchored there by the gentle graze of his fingertips and the intensity burning in his eyes.

  “I lied about the professional side, because I had to, and now you know why.” The backs of his fingers caressed her jaw. “But everything…personal between us was the truth. It was not part of the plan. I wasn’t anticipating you.”

  “Why should I believe you?” She jerked her head away from his hand. She couldn’t think, couldn’t remain objective when he touched her this way.

  “Because if you don’t it means you were wrong.” He didn’t let her get away. His fingers curled over her ear and beneath her hair as he raised up on the opposite elbow. “Wrong when you felt this thing building between us. Wrong when you touched me and I touched you. Wrong when you trusted me.”

  His lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. “You weren’t wrong, Maggie. Those feelings—they’re real.”

  She wanted desperately to believe him as his soft words wooed her. To believe that everything that had transpired…their confidences, the little touches, the way her heart soared when he kissed her…had been true. But she couldn’t escape the memory of the cold steel tucked beneath his shirt today. Or the way she’d had his blood on her hands. She hated guns. Hated them with a passion. Even knowing he was a cop hadn’t meant that much to her. He’d been on holiday, and for the brief time he was at Mountain Haven she’d chosen to ignore the fact when it suited her. He hadn’t been on duty. He’d been someone else.

  “I’m sorry about the gun,” he whispered, as if he could read her mind. “You have to know I’d never hurt you. You have to know I’d do anything—anything—to protect you. Even lie.”

  “I feel used,” she admitted, amazed that she still felt she could confide her feelings. How could she be so angry and yet feel so close to him? Yet they’d always seemed able to talk. She remembered how he’d held her in the den earlier when she realized the depth of the danger Pete Harding represented. He had told her the truth when he could.

  Perhaps in an odd way, that was the one thing that had been truthful between them. The ability to talk when it was necessary. He had a way of bringing out her secrets. Most of them, anyway. She still held a few close to her heart. She didn’t want to see pity on his face. And without telling him, he’d never understand why she had reacted as she had to discovering his gun, or knowing he could have been killed.

  His eyes searched hers. “I know you do, and I’m so sorry. And I did want to
tell you. I even mentioned it to Grant, but he thought it would be better if I didn’t.”

  He tugged with his hand. She was sitting on one hip and lost her balance, falling slightly to lay over his chest.

  “Nate, I…”

  He stopped her words with his mouth. First lifting and seeking her lips, and once finding them, pushing up and twisting so that she fell beneath him.

  It was different from the other times. This time it went beyond the sexual and hit her straight in her heart, and she didn’t fight it. Maybe it was the freedom of the truth that changed it, maybe it was knowing it was all coming to an end, but despite everything he still had the power to do this; to make her feel like a desirable, loved woman. It was more than knowing he was younger, or the fitness of his firm body. It was in the way he touched her, like he couldn’t help himself. Like she was something treasured.

  But he was leaving tomorrow, and she wanted to absorb the feeling and keep it locked inside for safekeeping. To be able to look back and remember it when he was gone, to cherish it like she did the items she kept in her special box. For once, she stopped analyzing the pros and cons and let herself feel.

  In the dark, on a rumpled bed, they were horizontal with his weight pressing her into the mattress. Her hands lifted, only to find the warm, bare skin of his shoulder, curved and dipped with hard muscle. Her fingers drifted lower, over his shoulders and back, stopping at a rough wrinkle. One of the scars he’d mentioned? She couldn’t tell in the dark.

  “This isn’t a lie.” His lips hovered over her ear before trailing down her neck. His weight pushed her deeper into the mattress. “What you do to me isn’t a lie.”

  His mouth claimed hers again and she met it eagerly. She’d let fear stand in her way for too long. Now his time at Mountain Haven was drawing shorter with each fleeting moment. She’d been waiting for someone. Someone she could feel safe with. It shocked her to realize she still felt Nate was that man. Even after everything that had been revealed today.

  He shifted slightly, his hand slipping over her T-shirt. He cupped her in his palm and her body surged from the contact, long-lost desire settling in her core. She arched, pressing herself more firmly into his hand, glorying in the feeling she’d nearly forgotten in her long abstinence.

  He lowered his head until she felt his moist breath through the cotton.

  A moan ripped from her throat and she gripped his hair with her hands.

  And he stilled, his muffled cry of pain vibrating just below her heart. In the heat of the moment, she’d forgotten about his head and the gash that had unraveled everything.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She was sorry she had hurt him. She was sorry they’d stopped, because being with him made her feel alive.

  But it was madness and nothing good could come of it, no matter how much she craved him. He would still be leaving. He would still put himself in harm’s way every day. She’d already been through it once. She couldn’t deal with it again.

  Nate didn’t move. He simply dropped his head, resting it for a moment on the softness of her diaphragm. She closed her eyes and imprinted the feeling of him there on her soul.

  “It’s all right.” His voice grated in the darkness. “We should stop. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.”

  Maggie suddenly felt very exposed, though she remained completely clothed. She put her hands on the bed, pushing herself upward a few inches. The fantasy was over, reality firmly back in its place. The need to protect herself overrode the longing to be with him one last time before he left.

  Nate rolled to the side, propped up on an elbow. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let this go too far. I can’t make love to you, Maggie. No matter how much I want to.”

  His explanation fell flat. He didn’t really want her and she’d been foolish to indulge in rolling around on the bed with him. Things were far too complicated. He probably thought she’d come up here with this very purpose in mind. Her cheeks burned at the thought.

  “I don’t recall asking you to.”

  Her icy words cooled the room considerably.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  She pulled away, stood beside the bed glaring down at him, angry at herself for falling under his spell yet again. He’d been the one to tug her down and kiss her first. To what purpose? Surely he didn’t feel like he had to pretend anymore.

  “What were you trying to do, anyway? Distract me from the fact that you’ve been pretending all this time? Or just smooth things over to soothe my hurt feelings? I assure you, I’m over it.”

  His nostrils flared but he didn’t move from his position. “That’s not it at all. I wanted to show you that despite everything, this much was real.” His lip curled with the bite of sarcasm. “At least it was for me.”

  How dare he. He’d been the one to lie and pretend and she’d done nothing but be honest with him. Brutally honest, she remembered, her cheeks burning. Now he was accusing her of using him? Declaring his intentions to be pure while challenging that hers were anything but? And then pushing her away in the end anyway.

  “When will you be wrapping this thing up?”

  Nate pushed up off his elbow, sitting up in the bed. His brows pulled together in the middle.

  “Tomorrow, then if it goes as planned, transport the day after. Why?”

  Maggie smiled coldly. “Then I only have one more day of doubting every word that comes out of your mouth.”

  She instantly regretted her statement, but gathering every last shred of pride she had left, she swept from the room, shutting the door behind her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE coffee was brewed, but Maggie stared out the kitchen window, seeing little in the predawn hours. She’d slept fitfully, waking every few minutes, worrying, thinking too much. Finally at four she’d risen, dressed and put on coffee. She’d sleep later. She’d have lots of time for sleep.

  Nothing made sense. She’d been mad about the lies; she wasn’t anymore. She was proud of who he was, but it scared her to death. She cared about him, more each day, but she wanted him gone. Wanted this over.

  Wanted to come out of it unhurt, and the longer it went on, the more she was sure that was impossible.

  Her head tilted as she heard sounds echoing through the upstairs. Nate was up. He was packing his things to walk away, leaving forever. She should be glad things hadn’t gone further than they had. In her head she knew that was true. But all her heart felt was an aching loss at an opportunity missed; a return to a life that was lackluster and plain. Most of all she was sorry she’d lashed out at him last night. He had enough to worry about without her throwing around accusations. It didn’t solve anything.

  She couldn’t stand the thought of sitting here, waiting for news throughout the day. Listening for his footsteps when he came back…or didn’t. No, it would be better if they said their goodbyes now.

  He’d be down soon. Maggie took out a frying pan and got eggs from the fridge. The last thing she could do for him was make him a decent breakfast. It had nothing to do with any service she was being paid for; nothing to do with him being a guest in her home. It was, simply, the last caring act she could give him.

  The eggs were delicately done when his steps echoed on the stairs. Maggie turned off the burner and went to the cupboard to fetch a plate. When she spun back around, she froze.

  He was magnificent.

  There was no other word for it and it frightened her almost as much as it exhilarated her. There was no hiding who he was from her this morning. He stood in the breach between hallway and kitchen, dressed in his customary jeans. But everything else seemed different. A long-sleeved shirt hugged the muscles of his chest and arms, and for the first time she caught sight of his USMS badge. It hung from a silver chain around his neck, a plain star within a circle with the words “United States Marshal” engraved in the perimeter. In his hands he carried more gear—a vest with several pockets, and two holsters. They made him seem so very large, imposing. Only she couldn’
t help but notice the dark circles beneath his eyes and a stab of worry went through her. He needed to be alert this morning. Was it her fault he wasn’t rested?

  “I made you breakfast.”

  It was all she could think to say. Anything more would open a door she didn’t want to walk through today. They both knew what he was going to do. They both knew that he was leaving. There was nothing more to say without bringing up recriminations and regrets.

  He put his gear on an empty chair and sat down as she placed the plate at his place. “Are you joining me?”

  Food was the last thing on her mind and she didn’t think she could stomach it anyway. “I’ll just have some coffee,” she murmured.

  Gone was the easy banter they’d shared over mealtimes. Gone was the subtle flirting, the friendly smiles and eye contact. The sound of his knife and fork were amplified through the kitchen and each clink was torture. She got up from the table and refilled his coffee cup.

  “Maggie, I’m sorry about everything I’ve put you through. I’ve been incredibly unfair.”

  The emptiness crawled in again. His job came first and that was how it should be, she realized. And she didn’t want anything permanent from him, so why did it hurt so much?

  “Don’t say anything. We both know it’s what you do. We knew all along that this moment would come.”

  “This isn’t easy for me, Maggie,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t counting on finding you.”

  Her fingers tightened on the back of a chair. He didn’t understand how she felt the need to pull back. To save herself from more pain. Seeing him hurt was bad enough. Finding out he’d been shot was another story. A fresh bandage shone on his forehead, a bright reminder of the consequences of his job. It was too close, too fresh. Even after all these years. She couldn’t handle the danger. She knew it as surely as she was breathing.

  “Maggie, please. Talk to me.”