ALWAYS YOURS

by Shiloh Walker

  But Nikki would look at Kris and just give her that stare. Or she’d laugh.

  It was going to be weird enough editing romances. But asking her best friend to think about writing one…Kris shook her head as she took the exit to the small two lane highway.

  It was bad enough she was going to have to come up with an explanation for why she had developed an unusual growth.

  One shaped just like a man.

  One that followed her everywhere she went, that dogged her ever step, that checked out damn near any room she went into, one that had tapped her damn phone lines. She slid the car in her rearview mirror a look and sighed when Raintree just waved at her. He wasn’t even subtle about following her.

  She had asked him, “Damn it, don’t you all want to catch Delacourte? Damn it, I mean Blessett?

  “Yes, ma’am. But not by using you as bait.” And he had just smiled, that patient smile that she had come to realize she could argue with him until the world ended and it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  He was making her too damned nervous.

  Kris just hoped Dylan had headed on out, because if he was around, it would only make matters worse.

  Nikki had said he was planning on living in Fort Knox, finishing up his rehab there. Looking for a job. That was fine. Anywhere away from Kris. She couldn’t take seeing him—damn it, even thinking of him was enough to bring back nightmares she had fled New York to escape from. It was a downward spiral, she thought of him, then she thought of the time she saw him in the chair, and what he had accused her of, and then she thought of Max…and that night. The gun, pressed against her head, her own screams.

  But she wasn’t so desperate to avoid him that she was going to avoid her best friend. She needed to see Nikki. Damn it, she just needed to relax.

  It still looked the same, Kris thought, sliding out of the car and staring up at the house that sprawled over the clearing. Honey gold wood, acres of sparkling glass. And very pitiful looking flower beds.

  A smile crossed her face as she studied the flowers that tried to survive. Chances are the ones that made it were planted by the kids. Nikki had once planted the flowers upside down…

  As the door opened, a pint sized, ebony haired version of Nikki shot outside. “Aunt Kris! Aunt Kris!”

  Kris dropped to her knees to hug the child to her. “Mandy, you’ve gotten so big,” she whispered, leaning back to brush the raven black hair out of dark brown eyes.

  “I’m five,” Mandy said, holding out a grubby hand, displaying five fingers. “Abby is thirteen and she likes boys. Taylor is seven and Mikey is two. His ears are sick.” After giving Kris the run down, she stopped and, cocking her head, studied Kris with narrowed eyes. “You’re sad.”

  Silent, Kris stared into the wise young eyes. “What makes you think that, baby?” she asked softly, once she swallowed the knot in her throat. She could see Nikki in those eyes, the snapping intelligence, the easy perception.

  With a shrug of her tiny shoulders, Mandy said simply, “Your eyes make me think that.” Reaching out, she stroked one hand down Kris’s cheek. “Your eyes aren’t smiling.”

  No, Kris thought, not much to smile about lately.

  Mandy looked over Kris’ shoulder where Raintree was leaning against the door of his car, his arms hooked over the top of it, his chin resting there. Looking as peaceful and harmless as he could. Which wasn’t very.

  In a loud whisper, Mandy asked, “Who’s he?”

  Kris glanced back and said, “Well, I guess he’s sort of a friend.”

  Mandy arched her brows. “Sort of? Dontcha know?”

  Kris lifted her eyes heavenward for a brief instant. “I haven’t exactly decided yet. But he has to help me for a while. So I guess he ought to be my friend,” she finally said.

  Raintree called out, “I know your Uncle Dylan, Miss Mandy. I’m a friend of his. Does that help?”

  Mandy shouted out, “I’m not ‘posed to talk to strangers. You have to stay there ‘til you’re not a stranger no more. And anybody could say they know him. How do I know you ain’t a liar?”

  The man tipped his face to the sun and laughed. “Damn it, she’s just as cute as Dylan said she was. Just as precocious. Okay, Miss Mandy. I’ll wait here. You let me know when I can move.”

  Kris chuckled. “Better be careful what you tell her, Raintree. She’ll try to hold you to it,” she said over her shoulder. “Come on, Mandy. Let’s go get Mama and introduce you to your uncle’s friend. Although I didn’t know he was friends with Dylan.”

  Mandy chirped, “We can just find Uncle Dylan and ask him. He’s still here.”

  Kris felt her stomach drop to her feet. Wonderful. Just wonderful…

  Mandy glanced up. “Your eyes still aren’t smiling. And you look awful nervous now,” the little girl said.

  “I’m not nervous,” she lied. “I’m—uh, I’m kinda tired. Long drive. You know, you’re an awfully sweet little girl, I bet you can help me smile again, Miss Mandy,” Kris said, following the child up the stairs and inside the blissfully cool house. When she was sure nobody was watching, she wiped her damp palms off on her shorts. Then she wished she had a mirror. Damn it. Dylan was still here.

  With a solemn nod, Mandy promised, “I’ll try my best.”

  Kris had no more than taken five steps into that blissfully cool house when she walked headlong to Dylan, his hands tucked into his pockets, his cane no where in sight. His lids were low over his hazel eyes and his gaze roamed over her face.

  It wasn’t until that moment that it dawned on Kris that he must know about that night in New York City. And not just a few vague details, like she had given Nikki, glossing over most of them.

  He probably knew all of them, right down to how Max had damn near ripped her shirt off her and how she had been close to sobbing before the military boys had shown up.

  And her breath locked in her lungs.

  Damn it. The most terrifying night of her life. The most shameful and he knew.

  “Hey, rich girl,” he drawled, reaching out and catching the bag that had slid unnoticed down her arm.

  She frowned and tried to jerk it back, but he had already thrown it over his shoulder. Wade had come up behind them and was already half way upstairs with her other case. Dylan lifted a brow and said, “I thought you were just staying for the holiday weekend. Not a month.”

  Nikki slid between them and smiled sweetly. “Females require a little more than a spare pair of underwear and a toothbrush, brother dear. And Kris requires even more than the average female,” she said. “And you actually packed light this time, sweetie.” A look of false concern on her face, she said, “You aren’t sick, are you? You didn’t bring the kitchen sink. That’s not like you.”

  Kris forced a smile and just shook her head. “Hey, Nik. I’ve got…company…I kind of need to talk to you about,” she said, forcing a light tone into her voice as she turned away from Dylan.

  Dylan had already moved around them and glanced outside, a slight smile appearing on his face. “Company, huh? How come he looks frozen?”

  Kris replied, “That’s Mandy’s doing. She said she’s not supposed to talk to strangers and he has to stay there until he’s not a stranger no more. He said he’s a friend of yours but that’s not good enough for her.”

  Dylan started to laugh. “Damn it, I love that kid.”

  As he headed outside, Kris looked at Nikki and forced a smile. “Ummm…I have a bodyguard…sort of.”

  Nikki lifted a brow, warning lights dancing in her eyes. “And you think that’s going to be good enough? I want a little more detail than that.” her best friend drawled, turning and leading the way upstairs.

  Kris sighed. She wasn’t surprised.

  Dylan was here. Nikki wanted details.

  She wondered if she shouldn’t have just stayed in Louisville. Swim in the pool, shop for a house. Stay away from Dylan.

  That would be easier said than done.

  Because she figured out
about twenty minutes later, Nikki had him in the room across from hers.

  Nikki had given the room on the main floor, right below the stairs, to Kris’ shadow. And that was where Dylan usually stayed.

  But the two men had put their military minds together and decided that was where her shadow should stay. Damn it, Raintree was starting to make her claustrophobic.

  * * * *

  Kris sat on the deck, studying the low hanging stars. It was late, but she couldn’t sleep; what else was new? If she got more than four hours of sleep a night, she was feeling lucky. But it wasn’t insomnia keeping her awake tonight. When that plagued her, she felt incredibly tired, but couldn’t sleep.

  Tonight, she wasn’t tired at all. Her mind was clear, her body revved. Restless and edgy, and she knew damn well why.

  The reason for it was sleeping in the bedroom across the hall from hers. Far too close for her to be able to clear him from her mind.

  “Up kind of late, aren’t you?” a low voice drawled from behind.

  Her muffled shriek died in her throat as she wheeled around to stare at Dylan. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

  His shoulders, bare and gleaming in the bright white light cast by the full moon, lifted in a shrug. He lifted a bottle to his lips, drank, before moving further out on the deck. “Guess you’re used to staying up late in New York,” he said as though she hadn’t gone sheet white.

  “What in the hell do they teach you in the Army? How to sneak up on women and scare them to death?” she muttered, willing her pounding heart to slow down. She hadn’t even heard him, hadn’t realized he was behind her. So much more for self-awareness, she thought with disgust.

  “Yep,” Dylan replied, leaning his hips against the railing as he studied the moonlit sky. Her eyes went to those narrow hips, that flat belly and unwittingly, she licked her lips, before she tore her eyes away as he continued. “That, and how to totally disgust and disappoint our families.”

  She lifted a brow at him. “Did I miss something?”

  He grinned wryly. “You missed the family show. I had to tell them all about what happened, why I was out of the Army. Of course, I left out how I nearly got you killed. I figured I should leave that part for you.”

  Kris sighed, and said, “Dylan, that wasn’t your fault. That was Max’s, pure and simple. And it’s not like you introduced us. I met him at a bar, for crying out loud. It’s pure bad luck, or maybe good luck, that you two were on the same unit, or team, or whatever in the hell you call it. What if I didn’t meet him? Would you and the guys you worked with have gotten out of that?”

  Dylan softly said, “Looking for another thank you?”

  She twirled her glass in her hands and said wryly, “No. I’m looking for reasons. I have dreams that haunt me all the time. They rarely make sense, and when they do, I can’t always act in time to do anything, to make a difference.” A weak smile curved her mouth and she whispered, “It felt—good to not be too late for once.”

  “You’ve had those dreams before?” he asked quietly.

  She could feel his intense stare on her face, but she continued to stare at her glass, thinking about how many dreams she’d had. Too late. Sometimes she’d dreams for days and days, always the same one, but it would never make sense and when she finally made sense of it, it was too late.

  “Yes, I’ve had dreams before. I hear—voices in my head sometimes, even when I’m not asleep. A lot. Most of my life. But they rarely make any sense. And when they do, I can’t always do anything to help,” she said quietly. Lifting her eyes to his, she shrugged. “I wanted, just once, for it not be a waste.”

  “What you have is amazing, Kris,” Dylan said, his voice just a sigh on the night. “If you aren’t able to do anything, it’s because you weren’t meant to. And you saved lives with what you told me. I hope you already knew that, but if you didn’t, well, now you do. I just wish I had listened a little better.” His face hardened and his eyes glinted like broken glass as he swore roughly, “If I had listened, maybe nobody would have died.”

  “Nobody had any clue he was going to try what he did.” Lifting her glass to her lips, she drank, wetting her dry throat and trying to still her rapidly beating heart. Not too late…for once.

  “It’s our job to know things like that. We should have known,” Dylan said.

  “Hell, Dylan,” Kris snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize you were Superman.” Then her eyes slid over to his and she cocked her head, resting her cheek on her fisted hand. “Why do you think they are disappointed in you?”

  Leaning one hip against the railing, he gazed out at the night. The wind blew his hair back from his face and he lifted one naked shoulder. “Why wouldn’t they be? I let them down. When I did actually need them, when I let myself need them, I wouldn’t let them come. I wouldn’t even let myself call them.” He lifted his beer to his lips and drank, draining half the bottle in one long pull.

  Kris felt her heart twist at the despondency in his voice, in his face. Sighing, she set her glass down. “Dylan, they aren’t disappointed in you. They are damned proud of you—they just hate how thick that skull of yours is. Ranger Dylan, he doesn’t need anybody.” Suddenly, she noticed the amber bottle he held. Her brows drew together and she demanded, “Where did the beer come from? I didn’t notice any beer.”

  “Shawn brought it up with him when he got here a little while ago,” Dylan answered, gesturing to the deck doors. “He just moved it into the fridge in the basement, if you want one, but you probably prefer your white wine.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m fine,” she replied. Actually, she wanted that beer pretty bad, but getting up meant passing by Dylan. She wasn’t sure she trusted herself just to walk by him yet.

  Heaven, had he bothered her like this before? Of course, it had been a couple of years since she had seen him last. And he had disturbed her then. Then there had been that kiss…yeah, that had been disturbing.

  Right now, disturbed didn’t even cover it.

  “How’s life for the big editor going?” he asked when she remained in the lounge chair, her long legs drawn up against her chest, arms wrapped around them.

  “At the moment, life sucks,” Kris replied, startling herself. She hadn’t really said that, had she?

  “That night giving you some bad moments?”

  Lowering her head, she pressed her brow to her knees and silently called herself ten different kinds of fool.

  Dylan voice was gentle as he said, “Baby, it’s all right to be afraid. You saved your life that night. The man watching you that night hadn’t been paying attention and by the time he caught up with you on his own…” his voice trailed off and Kris slowly lifted her head.

  She stared at him coolly, her tone regal as she said, “I’m not afraid of something that is over with.”

  Dylan cocked brow at her. “Doesn’t bother you that somebody tails you everywhere you go, because he hasn’t been caught yet? Raintree isn’t making you nuts yet?”

  She blinked. “Of course he’s making me crazy. Having somebody watch you twenty-four seven would make anybody crazy,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Where in the hell is he anyway?”

  “He was watching you from the kitchen,” Dylan said, flashing her a smile. “Trying to give you a little bit of peace. I told him I’d come out here and pester you. Well, I used the words keep an eye on you. He went on to bed. And I came out here. Would you rather me go get him so he can continue watching you?”

  “You can be a royal ass,” she said flatly.

  “Yeah. So, what kind of lifestyle of the rich and famous are you up to these days?” he asked, jumping from one thing to the next with nary a blink.

  She frowned, wetting her lips as she tried to follow his rapid change of subject. “Editing. Just switched companies,” she replied.

  “To someplace in Louisville?” he asked. “What are you editing? The Courier?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m tired,�
� she said flatly, rising off the lounge in one fluid motion. She was going to bed, damn it. Talking to him was too confusing. It made her head hurt. She was going to go to sleep and she wasn’t going to dream of him, or think of him. Even if it meant beating her head against the wall to get him out of it.

  “Before you go to sleep, rich girl, there’s something I’d like to know,” Dylan said, moving and barring her way with his body.

  The heat from him reached her through her clothes and the smell of him filled her head while she waited, one brow arched, her bare foot tapping silently against the wood. “What exactly is it you want to know, slick?” she asked, keeping her voice from shaking through sheer will power alone. Could you die from unrequited lust? she wondered. Was it possible die from this kind of need? If it was, then she was in serious trouble.

  It heated her belly, pooled low there, like some kind of animal just waiting to be freed. Like a hot velvet glove, it stroked over her skin, keeping her on edge, waiting, yearning, needing…damn it, Kris, stop it!

  “Just this,” he murmured, closing the distance between them with one step.

  She felt him winding her hair around his hand, felt him lifting her head. His mouth brushed against her briefly before he drew back. His face was shadowed, but she knew his eyes were on her. Did he just kiss me? she wondered. Had she fallen asleep and dreamed this?

  Hell, she thought wildly, if I am dreaming this, then I’d better make the most of it.

  Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips against his firm mouth, sliding her hands to his shoulders. His hands clamped around her waist, dragging her closer to his long, hard body. One arm went around her shoulders, his forearm arching her neck as he pivoted, pressing her body between his and the waist high railing.

  A tiny whimper rose and died in her throat as he tasted her, as she tasted him. He tasted of wheat, yeast, and man. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, past the barrier of her lips and teeth, hungrily, almost as if he had been as hungry for her as she was for him, Kris thought with wonder.

  Strawberry ice cream, Dylan thought. She tasted like strawberry ice cream, cool, creamy and of springtime. Her lithe body pressed up against his and he could feel her heart pounding against his. Ravenous, desperate, his hands raced down the length of her torso, slid under the hem of her cotton top, seeking for the warm bare skin beneath.