by Cindy Stark
When she could no longer contain the white, frenzied heat licking at her, her muscles contracted and went slack. She lost her balance and fell forward into the pillow. He rolled her again, penetrating her over and over until her mind was a blurry haze of sensation. She gasped and clenched again.
Milo swore and went rigid, not moving for a few long seconds, before he collapsed on top of her.
The quiet night settled around them again, cooling her overheated skin. It was several moments before anyone spoke.
"I don't know what to say, Ariana." His voice was hoarse, breathless.
"I do." She gave him a long, lingering kiss. "Thank you, Milo. I'll always treasure this."
"Shit," he whispered under his breath. He rolled, hauling her against him, cradling her with strong, protective arms.
* * *
The harsh morning light hit Milo square in the face, waking him from a beautiful slumber. He opened his eyes and blinked, his brain slow to process the devastating scene in front of him. Ariana lay next to him, wearing only his unbuttoned shirt, the lower half of his body having no trouble responding to her luscious breasts that peeked from beneath the flannel. Her hair had scattered in a tumbled mess on her half of the pillow they'd shared. Both of their jeans and a pair of silky black panties sat tangled in an accusing pile to the side of her.
He closed his eyes, wishing he was home in his bed and this had all been a sweet fantasy.
When he opened them, she still lay there in all her beautiful glory. Already, he craved her touch and the feel of her body giving in.
"Hell," he whispered. He'd really fucked up this time. Did he have no moral scruples at all? He'd had the best damn night of his life, but he'd tossed his self-respect out the window when he'd allowed the midnight magic and Ariana's sweet charms to convince him honor didn't matter. The reprehensible part was, he knew without a doubt, he'd turn around and do it again. His father would be ashamed of his behavior.
He found his shirt and boxers and slipped them on. With stealthy fingers, he slid the quilts up to cover her so he wouldn't be tempted to take her again. He reached across her and snatched his jeans, leaving her clothes to fare it alone. He maneuvered his feet into his pants and wrestled until they were over his hips and buttoned.
The gentle sounds of nature pervaded the area, giving Milo one last shot at peace before he woke Ariana and the fallout began. He visually caressed her face, the contours of her cheeks, the graceful curve of her lips. In a perfect world, he'd be able to lean over and kiss her, make fiery love to her once again in the early morning light before anyone else woke. Unfortunately, this was far from a perfect world.
"Fuck." He blew out a breath and leaned close to her ear, catching a hint of her lilac perfume. The provocative scent instantly took him back to the previous night and the third time they'd made love. She'd curtained them with her long tresses while she'd ridden him to paradise. That image of her would forever be etched in his mind.
This was going to be a hell of a hard mess to clean up.
"Ariana." He gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up."
She lifted her lids, peering at him with her unforgettable turquoise eyes and smiled. "Good morning," she said in a sleepy voice.
"Morning," he replied more gruffly than he should have. He climbed out the side of the truck. "I'm going to gather our chairs and cooler while you get dressed, and then we'll head home."
He caught the glimpse of hurt and confusion in her eyes before he turned away, but she had to recognize there would be consequences for their careless behavior the night before. Whether they wanted it or not, they had no future together.
* * *
With careful precision, Ariana sighted in one of the coffee cans and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through the late evening atmosphere and nailed the can. Hitting her target didn't make her feel any better. A week had passed. She and Milo had barely had a decent conversation. He'd provided her with everything she needed as far as food and a place to sleep, but he'd retreated inside a shell so far she couldn't reach. Days were spent with him working in the yard or fishing with his friends. She'd been allowed to tag along, but there had been no personal moments alone. If no one else was around and there were no chores left to do, he'd immersed himself in his precious book.
His message had been loud and clear. He regretted their night together and intended to stay as far away from her as possible.
She couldn't bring herself to feel the same way. Being with him, making love to him had been the best thing she'd ever done.
She aimed and pierced the tin of another can. Bored out of her mind, she'd spent a considerable amount of time shooting, and it was starting to show. More times than not, she'd hit the coffee can first shot. She'd even moved farther away from the targets and could still hit them a good portion of the time.
But enough was enough. She barely had a week left with Milo, and she was surprised to find she now spent more time worrying about leaving him instead of testifying. In fact, she almost looked forward to accusing her father face-to-face and watching him pay for his crimes. Now that she'd seen the possibilities life had to offer, she cursed her father for ruling over all the lives around him like a vicious dictator. He deserved to die for that if anyone asked her. Years in jail would not replace the precious time he'd stolen from those around him, whether it was out of fear for their lives or for the lives he'd carelessly taken.
No more wasting her life on fear. She'd own her time and live each day to the fullest. If that meant she died sooner, at least she'd perish while she was living. And this mess between her and Milo, this not talking to each other, was ridiculous, and she'd had enough. She slipped the gun into Milo's holster and headed inside.
She left the handgun hanging on the pantry door and moved to the entry of the living room. He sat on the brown leather couch, his eyes glued to the pages of his book. She knew he knew she was there. If he could sense her presence while he was asleep on the couch, he damn well could sense her now.
"We need to talk." She walked forward until she stood directly in front of him.
"No, we don't." He didn't spare her a glance.
"I say we do."
He looked at her beneath his brows. "Are you safe? Are you cared for? Then my job is complete."
If she didn't know his background, she'd be deeply hurt. "I'm sorry our night together had such a profoundly negative effect on you. For me, it was a night I'll cherish forever."
He slammed the book shut and shoved it to the side as he stood. His black t-shirt showcased the outline of his well-defined chest, and she had to refrain from reaching out to him.
"Damn it, Ariana. Don't make it sound like I'm some insensitive cad and that making love didn't mean as much to me as it did to you."
She much preferred the fiery side of him to being ignored. "If it meant so much, then why are you so cold to me?"
"Because staying away from you is the only way I can guarantee I won't make the same mistake again."
"So making love to me was a mistake?" Even though she understood what he meant, it still stung.
"Don't twist my words. Don't make me out to be a jerk. You know very well why we shouldn't have done what we did."
"That's just it, Milo. I really don't understand. You're not doing any less of a job because of it. Nothing bad has happened. Nothing has changed except for the fact you now avoid me. Help me understand."
He drew his brows together, a pained looked echoing in his eyes. "Being close to you messes with my perception. It's hard to keep a clear head when all I can think of is us by the lake, and the sight of you laying there." He closed his eyes, and she wasn't sure if that helped him block her out or gave him a more vivid picture of them together.
She put a hand on his chest. "I want you like that now," she whispered.
He opened his eyes, agony and confusion reflecting from within.
"Deny it all you want, but I can tell you need me, too." She moved her fingers to his jawline, t
ension pulsing beneath her fingertips. "Why do we have to resist? Why can't this just be what it is?"
"Because." He heaved a sigh and took a step back. "Because you have a price on your head. Because I was charged with protecting you. Because not keeping a clear head could endanger you. The list goes on. Beyond all that, you're leaving in a week, and we won't see each other again, so what's the point of allowing myself to grow more attached to you? It will just be a bigger heartbreak in the end."
That hurt the most of all. She'd fallen for him, too, and it seemed like such a tragedy if they never had the chance to find out how deep their love could grow. They deserved that chance. "What if I come back? After the trial? What if I ask Quinn to make this my home?"
Emotions played across his face, and he didn't answer for a few moments. "Is that what you want?"
An excited, yet terrified tremble rolled through her. She'd never fully given herself the luxury of dreaming that staying with Milo might be a real possibility. She'd yearned for it, but never believed it had a chance of happening. "I know I don't want to lose you."
"Could you be happy here? When I first met you, you insisted to Quinn you wanted to be sent somewhere tropical."
"That was before I knew what existed here. I'll admit I'm surprised Aspen has stolen my heart, but I think I've fallen for this quaint little place and the people here."
He wrapped an arm around her, and she happily fell against him, her heart bursting with joy. He claimed her mouth in a desperate kiss, and she answered with equal hunger. The taste of his kisses was her own special paradise. He turned and laid her on the sofa, following her down until he covered her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she sent him a glowing smile. "Who needs tropical when I have you to keep me warm?"
He laughed as he moved in for another kiss. "Who knows, with the two of us around, this place might turn tropical."
She wiggled beneath him, loving the weight of his warm and hard body pressing against her.
A rumbling sound interrupted their silliness, and Milo turned to give his vibrating cell phone a dirty look. The offending device continued to pulsate on the coffee table next to them.
"Whoever it is can call back later." Milo captured her mouth again, and the phone stopped.
He pushed her t-shirt up over her breast and tugged down her bra. "Mmm…turquoise. My new favorite color."
She gasped as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, knowing she'd never tire of the tiny explosions he set off inside her. "I have to admit, I was worried I did everything wrong the other night."
He stopped and looked up at her. "What do you mean?"
"I just…you know, don't have much experience with men."
"You weren't a virgin. You told me about Danny."
She smiled, loving the concerned look in his eyes. "Danny was the only person I've slept with besides you."
He paused as though digesting the information. "Shit, Ariana. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No." She trailed her fingers down his cheek. "It was amazing, and I'm glad it was you." She arched toward him, offering her breast again. "Make love to me, Milo."
He stared at her, and she was afraid she'd ruined the moment for them. Then he nodded. "Okay." His mouth closed over her, and she shivered with delight.
The phone vibrated again.
"No," he whispered as he moved to her other breast.
She slid her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, not caring if his touch made it hard to breathe. The hard proof of his desire pressed against her, and she moved, allowing him to settle more firmly in her apex. She knew from experience the other night, she needed to be patient and enjoy all the facets of lovemaking, but the anticipation of having him slide into her, of him stretching her as he filled her sent a sharp quiver straight to her core.
The phone vibrated for a third time, and Milo stopped. "Damn it. Why the hell can't they leave us alone?"
He shifted and grabbed his impatient cell phone. His annoyed features chilled as he looked at the screen. "It's Quinn," he said, sending her a worried glance. "Hey," he said into the phone.
He listened intently, never taking his eyes off her. Something about his gaze left an uneasy mark on her intuition. "Uh, no. She didn't."
She tried to swallow past her building fear.
"No, she didn't tell me that, either." He frowned. "Okay. You could be right, and that would be a problem. Let me check."
He stood and headed into the hallway toward their bedrooms. Ariana jumped up and followed. She was pretty sure she knew what Quinn had told him and where he was headed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ariana entered her bedroom to find Milo glancing about the room, the phone still at his ear. "Where is it?" He directed the question to her.
She bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she stepped forward and removed the cell phone from her dresser drawer. He shook his head at her, a look of deep disappointment on his face. He turned on the device and pushed a couple of buttons. Her call log popped on the screen.
He wouldn't meet her gaze then, and she knew she'd broken something between them.
"There are three calls. One to your cell, one to what looks like your office, and one to someone with a seven-seven-three area code." He glanced at her then, his gaze harsh and demanding. "Who'd you call, Ariana?"
Shame swelled inside her. She'd thought she'd completely trusted Milo, but she hadn't. If she had, she would have told him. "Kenzie. My friend."
Milo relayed the information to Quinn, who spoke to Milo for another minute before their conversation ended.
He pocketed his phone, eyeing her with such distrust that it clawed at her soul. "How could you do that, Ariana? Worse yet, why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I didn't think you'd understand. I knew you'd be mad, and I didn't want to cause any more problems." Her lip trembled as the first brick in her world crashed to the ground. Others would surely follow.
"How can I understand if you don't give me the opportunity? And cause problems? Really? Five minutes ago, we were planning a future together, and yet you couldn't trust me enough to tell me? I'd say that's a problem."
"I'm sorry." More than she could say. She swallowed, trying to get a grip on her breathing. "Kenzie was on TV, very upset. She thought I was dead. I couldn't let her believe that. Not after her mother just died."
"You should have told me. I could have helped." She couldn't bear the accusatory look in his eyes.
"I did call Quinn, but he didn't answer. I couldn't let her suffer, Milo."
"So you put your life in jeopardy. Not only yours, but mine." He shrugged. "This whole town, really. If these guys traced that call, they're going to come here looking for you, and who knows what will happen if someone gets in the way."
She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and blinked, forcing unshed tears down her cheeks. "I wouldn't do that."
"You did, probably without a second thought." He shook his head. "That's a pretty selfish way to live."
His blow sliced deep into her heart. Maybe she was more like her father than she realized. No. She folded her arms and tried to swallow. She'd reached the farthest edge of her corner, and there was no way out but to tell the truth. It would come at a hell of a steep price though. "No one is going to come after me here."
He snorted. "You don't think? Whoever your father has hired has some far reaching guns. They've tracked you down to four different locations, and Quinn is a master at disguising and protecting people. For all we know, they're on their way here right now. Where did you put my gun?" He turned toward the door.
"They're not coming, Milo," she nearly yelled. She covered her mouth as a whimper escaped. She couldn't be more ashamed of herself. "They haven't found me. They never did."
He stopped and turned toward her, eyeing her with a piercing look. "What do you mean?"
"I made it up." She sniffed, praying she could get her words out before her tears overtook her. "I told Quinn I'd been spotted so he'd m
ove me. I was going crazy, being holed up in the same spot for months."
Milo's jaw went slack for several seconds before he closed his mouth. "You're kidding me. You let Quinn risk his job so you didn't have to be bored? Good God, woman."
"I'm sorry. I had no idea Quinn would do that," she whispered. She slumped on the mattress and wrapped her arms around her, afraid if she didn't, her soul would shatter into tiny pieces. She dropped her gaze to the carpet, no longer able to meet Milo's condemning look.
"Well, that's just great, isn't it?" He slammed a fist against the door, making her flinch. "Quinn will be here tomorrow to pick you up. I'm sure it will be a comfort to him to know your life isn't in danger."
The room went silent. Milo turned and left. A few seconds later he slammed his bedroom door.
Ariana got to her feet and quietly closed her own door before she curled into a ball on her bed.
* * *
"Got it, Tony." Manny turned to his nephew with a triumphant smile. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he'd started to question his ability. He'd expected Ariana to make another call that day or even that week. When that hadn't happened, his life had started to look like a very expensive bet gone wrong.
He could have lost it all.
Tony looked up from his own laptop sitting across from Manny's on the tiny round table in their cheap-ass hotel room in Salt Lake. "You serious, man?"
"I told you she'd call her friend, and I told you she'd turn on the phone again." He leaned back in his chair, pretty damn pleased with his brilliance. "Boss is gonna be real happy with me."
"With us," Tony corrected. "You're giving me some credit, right?"
"Yeah. That's what I meant." At least that's all Tony needed to know.
* * *
When Ariana woke the next morning, Milo was gone. It was barely past dawn, but his bed was made and only his sheriff's SUV sat in the drive. She tried to take a breath, her lungs still having difficulty accepting oxygen. She didn't need to look in a mirror to know her eyelids were swollen from crying.