by Trish Wylie
But the tiny crack in his control, the mere hint of a vulnerability that made it feel as if he desperately needed something he hadn’t found? It echoed deep inside Jo where she kept her own vulnerability hidden. Unlikely as it would have once been, she wanted to be the one to give him that missing something. She just wished it didn’t feel as if the one thing he needed was the one thing she could never give him.
‘Thanks for the coffee.’ He reached out and took the mug from her hand. ‘And the wake-up call.’
Jo took a step forward when he stepped back.
‘Danny—’
‘Don’t.’ A large hand nodded once in a ‘calm down’ move she suspected wasn’t solely for her benefit. He took a deep breath, crossed his jaw, looked anywhere but at her, and then used his forefinger to emphasize each word. ‘Just … don’t …’
When the door swung shut in her face, Jo stared at it for a long time without moving. Whatever headway they had made in the coffee shop disappeared like early morning mist. Crossing the hall had been a mistake. Why couldn’t she have left it alone?
The answer was simple: She did care.
Probably more than she should.
‘Damn it!’ Daniel threw his gloves at the truck.
‘We can’t save them all,’ his partner said flatly.
‘Two inches, Jim.’ He demonstrated the distance with a gap between his thumb and forefinger. ‘All I needed was two inches and I could have put pressure on the artery.’
‘And once we’d freed his leg he could have gone into shock and died anyway. You know that. Let it go.’
Except he couldn’t let it go, could he? Not so far away there were scaly little hands rubbing together in glee. Didn’t take a genius to work out what he would see in his nightmare the next time he closed his eyes, did it? Daniel’s gaze sliced through flashes of red and blue neon reflected on rain-soaked surfaces to the collapsed wall several ESU squads had been working on. The man who had died had gone out for a carton of milk, walked past an abandoned building at the wrong time and that was that. Game over.
When they had arrived at the scene Daniel had volunteered to crawl inside a narrow space deemed unsafe for a paramedic. He’d been there for three hours as he talked to the guy to try and keep him conscious while they dug him out. Mike Krakowski, forty-three, wife, two kids, somewhat ironically—possibly because the universe had a sick sense of humour—a construction worker. Mike had lost consciousness a half-hour ago and when his pulse stopped beating there hadn’t been a damn thing Daniel could do about it.
His partner slapped his shoulder. ‘Walk it off, brother.’
Pacing around the emergency vehicles, he tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders and neck. He hated that Jo knew. The thought she knew because she had heard him yelling made it worse. There was only one thing he wanted to see in her eyes and sympathy wasn’t it. So much for gaining ground …
He wondered how the residents’ committee felt about subletting on a short-term lease. Moving from hotel to hotel the way he had after he landed stateside wasn’t an option Daniel favoured, having tried it. Wasn’t as if he could spend a night on someone’s sofa either and he sure as hell couldn’t go home. A handful of hours in the room he shared with Tyler growing up and keeping his distance from his family would have been a complete waste of effort.
Not for the first time, he missed the respite of being overseas. Turned out the scaly-handed little sucker hadn’t liked the background noise of bullets firing and exploding shells. Frightened of losing its plaything, Daniel assumed, since a lack of sleep could have led to a fatal error a lot faster out there. So while many of the men he shared sleeping quarters with would toss and turn on their racks, he’d slept like a baby. He’d been paying for it with interest ever since.
Heading back to the truck to help pack away the equipment, he decided avoiding Jo for a few days was the only option open to him. Much as beating a retreat went against every instinct the Marine in him possessed, he didn’t have a choice.
The next time he faced her, if there was so much as a hint of sympathy in her eyes …
Remind him of how much less a man he felt compared to the way he used to be and he’d be honour-bound to prove her wrong. Strong as she was, he doubted she was ready for the full force of that, especially when it had been held inside him for so long. The thought of what was involved got his juices flowing and reminded him how primed he was for more than a kiss, but she was still Jo. He wouldn’t do that to her. The very fact he reacted the way he did to her knowledge was dangerous enough.
Let her get any closer …
Bending down, he picked up his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket. Game over.
CHAPTER SIX
‘There’s nothing quite like rearranging a closet to make a girl feel she’s in control. The smallest of moves can have a domino effect on our lives.’
WHAT did he think he was going to do—assume a new identity and move to another state? It was something he might want to consider, because by Monday—when he hadn’t shown up in the coffee shop—Jo was good and mad at him.
It felt as if her body were tuned in to him; didn’t matter what time of night it was or how quiet he was on his way into the apartment. Once her subconscious assumed he was restless, she got restless. Before she knew it, she was blinking into the darkness, waiting. When the yelling came, as it inevitably would, for Jo it felt worse than before.
Each night he was shredding a jagged little slither off her heart and his answer to the fact she’d kept her mouth shut to protect his secret was to avoid her?
She was going to kick his ass.
Halfway up the second flight of stairs in their apartment block, she heard a familiar deep rumble. Picking up the pace, she arrived—a little breathless and ready to spit nails—at the top of the sixth flight. Rounding the corner she discovered he was talking to the head of the residents’ committee.
Heart thudding erratically and unable to blame it entirely on the stairs, she gave him the once over. As usual he was in the prerequisite jeans, presently matched with a dark round-necked sweatshirt and a charcoal sports jacket. She had seen him in similar clothes a hundred times, so what was it that suddenly made him more of a feast for the eyes than before? No one had the right to look that good when they hadn’t slept in as long as he hadn’t so her singing pulse could just shut up.
She glanced at the bag in his hand. ‘Are those cookies?’
‘Freshly baked …’ Daniel smiled his infamous smile at their neighbour who behaved liked a giddy schoolgirl in response.
‘Danny confessed to a sweet tooth,’ she explained. ‘Have to look after our boys in uniform when they’re away from home, don’t we?’
‘Yes.’ Jo nodded. ‘It’s a long way to Staten Island.’
Daniel leaned forward and turned on the charm. ‘Still too far away from home baking, right, Agatha?’
She patted his arm. ‘Let me know when you run out.’
‘You’re too good to me.’
‘Yes, she is.’ Reaching out to ruffle woolly white ears, Jo crooned, ‘Isn’t she, Gershwin?’
When her hand dropped Daniel replaced it with his.
‘Bye, little guy. Look after your mom.’ As their neighbour left, he tilted closer to her and lowered his voice. ‘Did I mention this is the second batch she’s baked for me?’
Jo didn’t say anything as they waved goodbye but as soon as the door down the hall closed, she swung on him. Aiming a brief glance over a wide shoulder, she grabbed a fistful of dark sweater and backed him into the elevator.
‘Stay,’ she ordered before turning to close the cage door.
Just once was it so much to ask the stupid thing to close without having an argument first?
‘Need a hand with that?’ a deep voice enquired.
‘Don’t make me hurt you.’ It took several angry attempts to achieve her goal before she pressed the button and turned on him again.
Leaning against the back of the cage
, he reached into the bag before tilting it towards her. ‘Fresh-baked cookie?’
‘I hope you choke on them.’ She folded her arms over her breasts. ‘How long are you planning on avoiding me?’
‘That’s what I’m doing, is it?’ Taking a bite of toffee pecan, he leaned his head back and frowned as he studied the creaking mechanism above their heads.
Jo was too mad at him to play games. ‘You think you’re the only one losing sleep since you moved in across the hall? But did I say anything? No. What I did was make sure you weren’t late for work. Thanks for that, Jo. No problem, Daniel. That’s all it would have taken. We could have gone on pretending I didn’t know. Instead you asked, I answered and now you’ve decided to punish me for not lying when apparently I wasn’t any good at it to begin with.’
When his gaze locked with hers, a warning sparkled in his too-blue eyes.
She sighed. ‘Our apartments wrap round the building. We share a wall. How long did you think you could hide it?’
Daniel tossed what was left in his hand back into the bag. When his gaze lifted to the appearance of their floor—despite the speed of the elevator—Jo could sense she was running out of time. What would it take to get through to him?
‘Why do you think I didn’t say anything, Danny?’
It was a question she would prefer not to answer, but even the softening of her voice wasn’t enough. His shoulders lifted a very visible inch and the knuckles of the hand holding the bag went white. Ridiculously, it felt as if she was losing him.
As the elevator shuddered to a halt he stepped forward and looked her straight in the eye.
She lifted her chin. ‘I’m not moving.’
Setting his hands on either side of her waist, he simply lifted her out of the way and set her down at the back of the elevator. When he did Jo dropped her arms and lost it.
‘You can’t avoid me for ever!’
As if it knew not to mess with him, the cage door moved with one sharp tug. The second he stepped into the hall, he turned and yanked it shut again.
Her eyes widened. ‘What are you—?’
Reaching through the cage, he hit the button to send her back to the ground floor.
Forget kicking his ass. She was going to kill him.
If he’d been in a better mood the expression on her face as the elevator descended would have made him laugh out loud. Instead he turned and walked away.
He didn’t get far before her voice sounded.
‘Go ahead and avoid me for the next fifty years. Up until a few days ago you could have gift-wrapped that for me and it would have been the best present I’ve ever been given!’ There was a pause he presumed was to allow her to take a breath. But when she spoke again he could hear something new threaded in her voice. ‘I’m not angry you don’t want to talk about it. I get that part. Probably better than you think. But they’ll be selling ice cream in hell before I try talking to you again.’
Daniel stilled and took a long, calming breath. It wasn’t what she said, what got to him was the note in her voice that almost sounded … hurt.
Shaking his head, he headed for his apartment. He’d been tossing pointed verbal spears at her for years without leaving a mark but a silent response had hit the target?
How did that work?
He’d braced himself for several things when he laid eyes on her again. With hindsight the stand-to-attention greeting from his body should have been higher up the list. But when it came to the things he knew he would struggle with most like sympathy, pity—hell, even being nice to him would have done it—there hadn’t been one. Instead he got the kind of response he should have known to expect from her. Not only had she called him on what he was doing and set him straight, she kicked him to the kerb for punishing her for something that wasn’t her fault. It was the note of hurt in her voice and his answering guilt for causing it that said the most about the change in their evolving relationship.
Stepping out of the hall, he closed the door and found his gaze drawn across the room to the item on the kitchen counter.
By the time she made it to the top of the stairs he was leaning on his door frame, ankles crossed and a hand held out in front of him. Gauntlet casually swinging on his forefinger, he watched from the corner of his eye as she glared at him before pointedly focusing on her destination. When she came to a halt in front of him she pressed her lips together, took a breath and looked at his finger.
‘Is that my mug?’
He let it swing a little harder. ‘Yes.’
‘I hate you.’
‘I know.’
Snatching the mug, she fitted her key in the lock, stepped inside her apartment and slammed the door. Daniel stayed where he was and waited. Four, three, two …
The door swung open again.
‘You know what I hate most?’ she snapped.
‘That you didn’t think of the elevator trick first?’
‘I hate that you can make me this mad.’
He nodded. ‘It’s a talent.’
‘I’m normally pretty Zen about the universe, despite everything it’s thrown at me. But you—you bug the hell out of me.’ She waved a hand at his face with attitude. ‘That whole “nothing gets to me” façade you got going on bugs me more than anything. Especially now I know it’s a big fat lie.’ Her eyes widened when a slow smile began to form on his face. ‘Really, you’re doing that now? When I’ve just told you I can see right through you?’
‘I doubt that.’
If she could see right through him she would know he was thinking how beautiful she was when she was angry. He’d always thought it was a cliché but with Jo it was true. She flashed fire from her eyes; the full force of a passionate nature he’d only got glimpses of in the past made it difficult not to cross the hall. It didn’t matter if she unleashed all of her inner fire on him, erupted in an inferno and left him in a pile of sated ashes. If anything it made him want her more.
‘Don’t do that,’ she warned.
His smile grew. ‘What am I doing?’
‘You know what you’re doing.’
‘Thinking about coming over there so we can make up?’
‘We don’t have that kind of relationship.’
‘Didn’t use to,’ he allowed.
‘Just because we made an attempt at trying to be friends doesn’t mean—’
‘That’s what you’re calling this?’ He raised his brows in disbelief. There was no way she could be that naïve.
‘I—’
‘You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it.’
She opened her mouth, closed it and then opened it again. ‘What are we talking about?’
‘I think you know what we’re talking about.’
‘You mean sex.’ She frowned at his chest. ‘With you …’
‘I was talking about the kiss in the subway station, but if you want go there …’
‘I haven’t thought about it,’ she lied.
Daniel shook his head. ‘We’ve already established you shouldn’t do that when you’re not any good at it.’
‘You’re telling me you have thought about it?’
‘If you mean sex … with you …’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘I’m a guy, of course I’ve thought about it.’
She lifted her chin. ‘And?’
Daniel shrugged in a way he hoped didn’t give away the fact just talking about it was turning him on. ‘I think two people who spark off each the way we do could have pretty spectacular sex.
You don’t?’
‘I meant the … Yes … No … I mean I don’t know much about—’
‘Spectacular sex?’ The fact he had flustered her again brought a knowing smile to his mouth. ‘You should try it. There’s a lot to recommend it.’
‘Wasn’t where I was going.’ She frowned.
‘No?’
‘Would you quit that?’
‘What am I doing now?’
‘Looking at me like a ma
n looks at a woman.’
‘Bit difficult to avoid …’ His gaze travelled the length of her body, lingering on her breasts.
‘That’s second-date territory you’re in right now.’
‘We’ve had coffee three times.’
She gasped in outrage. ‘Those weren’t dates.’
Unable to resist any longer, Daniel nudged his door frame and stepped forward. ‘When it comes to the kiss in the subway station, I think we can do better.’
‘Danny, stop.’ Her tone was suddenly more of a plea than a warning. She took a step back. ‘You and me? Huge mistake.’
Reaching out, he took her hand and brought her back to her door frame. ‘Who are you trying to convince?’
Before she could reply, he released her hand and framed her face. The tip of her tongue swiped her lips, moistening them in preparation as her gaze lowered to his mouth. When she looked up, doubt flashed across her eyes. He would have used every lesson he’d learnt from the seduction handbook to remove that uncertainty. But as his head lowered her chin lifted and their mouths met before he was ready.
A jolt of electricity zipped through his body. At first he froze, determined to ignore muscles that jerked in response so he could carry out his plan to demonstrate more finesse. He wanted to savour her, spend hours kissing her.
Starting with her mouth …
Capturing her lower lip first, then the upper, he drew from the experience of a lifetime of kisses that paled in comparison. If he’d known kissing her could feel so good, they’d have been doing it a lot sooner. When a breathy sigh escaped her lips, he breathed it in; the first brush of his tongue against hers met with a low hum of approval at the back of her throat. While she simply stood with her spine against the door frame and allowed him to explore, it was easier to control the pace and the demands of his body. The second her hands flattened on his stomach and she started doing a little exploring of her own, his control was tested as it had never been tested before.