by Fiona Archer
When he picked up the cup and saw the art, he looked at her, his eyes wide and stark. “Jesus.”
Remorse stabbed her. She shouldn’t have revealed her pain. It would have been easier to draw something mundane and send him on his way.
“Damn it, Kara…”
Turning away, she focused on the next order.
But Brant didn’t leave as she’d hoped. “I owe you an apology.”
“Save it.”
“An explanation, then.” His words were graveled with emotion.
“None needed.” But when he stroked his forefinger along the horrible scar, she stared, mesmerized.
“It took a long time to find you.”
“I didn’t want to be found.” She’d left instructions for the new manager not to tell anyone where she’d gone. And this remote location was a million miles from the mountains of Nevada.
“Five minutes of your time would mean a lot to me.” When she didn’t respond, he went on. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
His admission shattered her resolve.
“Go.” Lilliana picked up the plastic cup. “I’ll make this one.”
“Are you sure?” Without waiting for an answer, Kara removed her apron and hung it from a peg. Then she walked around the counter.
As she drew closer, bravery deserted her, and she stopped several feet away from him.
This close, he overwhelmed her senses.
Soft-looking faded jeans snuggled his lean hips and emphasized his powerful thighs. His boots were nicked and scarred.
But more, his scent teased her. He smelled of summer air, laced with determination.
“Uhm…” She took a breath to focus herself. “You asked for five minutes.”
“I’ve missed you. Have dinner with me tonight?”
Despite her best intentions, she felt the walls she’d built around herself begin to crumble. That, she couldn’t allow. “That’s not a good idea.”
“There’s a lot we have to talk about.”
“Like why you’re a cad?”
“Cad?” A smile toyed with the corners of his oh so kissable lips.
Please, God. Don’t let him smile. She’d never been able to resist his softer side. “You hurt me, Brant.” Damn it, her voice cracked from the pain of her confession.
He stared at the broken heart on the top of his drink. Then he looked back at her. “There’s a lot I need to make up for.”
“It’s too late.”
He reached for her, only to drop his hand between them. “Give me a chance.”
She was spared having to reply by Lilliana’s arrival. Hands on her hips, she looked up at him. “Judging by Kara’s reaction, you must be the asshole.”
“Brant Gibson.” He winced and wisely didn’t offer his hand. “No doubt you’re Lilliana, the older sister Kara looks up to. Valedictorian of your high school. Played volleyball in college. Married. Two kids.”
He’d remembered all that?
As if he’d read her mind, he turned toward her. “I listened to every single word you ever said.”
“Takes more than fancy words to make up for your behavior.” Lilliana glared daggers at him. “I’m not as forgiving as Kara. If your intentions aren’t honorable, leave her the fuck alone.”
The overhead bell tinkled, and Lilliana turned to greet their customers with a smile.
“Your sister is a lioness.”
“She means every word.”
“Acknowledged and admired. I’m prepared to take my chances. As long as you’ll see me tonight.”
“You know dinner’s not my thing.”
“Hikes are, though. And so is a bottle of Malbec, paired with a meat and cheese tray, with strawberries for dessert.”
Brant clearly knew her weaknesses and wasn’t afraid to exploit them.
She wouldn’t capitulate without a few answers. “You don’t teach college?”
“No.”
“And the scar?” Without conscious thought, she reached toward it, and he didn’t stop her. Instead, he allowed her to gently run her finger down its terrible trail.
“A knife.”
“What happened to the other guy?”
“It wasn’t pretty.” His tone was flat, as dull as his eyes had suddenly become.
Blood roared in her head. Just who the hell was he?
Suddenly she didn’t recognize the man standing before her. Was she strong enough to withstand the truth about him?
Chapter Two
Brant paced the clearing. Paced? More like prowled.
Kara had agreed to meet him at the trailhead at five o’clock, and it was already three minutes after. Which meant she likely wasn’t coming.
How could he blame her?
He was a fucking idiot. What kind of fool all but told the woman he loved that he’d killed a man?
The realization brought him up sharp, and he froze.
Loved?
Where had that come from? He’d never been in love. There was no doubt that he cared for Kara. But anything more?
Facing the parking lot that was empty except for his SUV, he plowed a hand into his hair.
God. His life hadn’t been the same since he met her.
A year ago, he’d been out for a fifty-mile bike ride when he got caught in an unexpected summer squall. He’d pedaled to the closest shelter, her family’s inn.
He’d been smitten from the first moment he saw her. Her eyes had captivated him, the blue reminding him of spring wildflowers he’d once seen in Texas. She’d done more than give him a free drink to warm up; she offered a towel and encouraged him to stay until the storm passed.
They’d chatted for a few minutes while she wiped down tables. Even though he told himself she was just being polite, her interest in him seemed genuine. After that, he changed his route so that he could see her every week.
Once they started seeing each other, he could no longer imagine life without her. In her bed, after she sweetly surrendered to his carnal demands, he slept hard, demons no longer chasing him.
If it hadn’t been for a final, essential mission, he wouldn’t have left her.
The fact that he planned to tell her the truth meant he loved her. And more, trusted her.
Fuck.
This morning, he’d looked deep into her eyes and seen pain there. Guilt clawed at his conscience.
In the distance, tires crunched on gravel. When he recognized the steel-gray vehicle, he exhaled. She’d come after all. Dear God, let it be the first step toward her forgiving him.
Careful not to crowd her, he waited for her to kill the engine and open the car door.
When she stepped out, desire shot through him. She smelled of something sweet. Vanilla maybe. But it was laced with something potent. Promise.
Her half smile made him think of the future. “I’m glad you came.”
With her hand, she shaded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “Did you have doubts?”
“Yeah.” Then he tried to take the moment. “I was afraid I’d have to drink the bottle of wine by myself.”
She laughed. “That would suck.”
“It would.” Raw honesty wrapped around his comment.
“You mean that.”
“Yeah.” He never again wanted to experience the kind of loneliness that shot through him when he’d realized she’d moved away.
A breeze whispered past them, ruffling her long blonde hair. He struggled to suppress the urge to gently tuck the wisps behind her ear. At one time he would have done it without thinking. But they were no longer lovers, and he didn’t have the right to that kind of intimacy. “Shall we? I figured we’d hike to the lake, have dinner. Maybe watch the sunset. I have flashlights for the walk back, if needed.”
“Perfect.” She used her remote control to open the back of her vehicle. “I don’t get out as much as I used to, and I miss it.”
Within a few minutes, they’d both shrugged into their backpacks and headed into the forest.
The trail was mostly single-track, and they took turns leading. But since they weren’t next to each other, conversation was difficult.
Less than a half hour later, they emerged into a clearing, and she stopped beside him. The lake glistened in the late-afternoon sunshine. A squirrel dropped something it had been gnawing on and scampered into the brush.
“It’s breathtaking.”
Brant exhaled. This moment, things were right in his world.
“Did you really bring a bottle of Malbec?”
“And a corkscrew.” He shucked his backpack and began unpacking it on the nearby table.
“I’m impressed.”
He pulled out two travel wineglasses and filled them before offering one to her. “Cheers to…” Uncertain, he fumbled his words. “Us?”
“How about to getting out in nature for a few hours?” Staring at the lake, she sipped her drink.
Clearly she wasn’t going to make this easy. Fortunately he was up for the challenge.
While she wandered down to the water’s edge, he finished setting up their picnic.
A few minutes later, bottle in hand, he joined her. “Refill?” When she nodded, he topped off her drink, then sat on a large rock next to her.
“Is Brant Gibson your real name?”
He’d been prepared for almost anything, but not that specific question. “Yeah.” He turned to face her.
“I can’t find anything about you on the internet. Not even from one of those deep searches that promise they can find anyone.” Her hand trembled as she put down her wine.
Brant reined in his natural urge to wrap her up and soothe her.
“As far as I can tell, you don’t exist.”
“And yet you trust me enough to be here with me, in the middle of nowhere.”
“Lilliana knows where I am and who I’m with. If I don’t check in with her by ten o’clock, she’ll call the police.”
“Smart.” Fuck, he was proud of her.
“We’ve done a lot of things together.” Twin streaks of red blazed across her cheeks. “And you’ve never hurt me. At least not physically.”
He winced. If she held a dagger, she couldn’t have wounded him more.
“I work for a company called Hawkeye.” This was more than he’d told anyone, even his brother. “We provide protection.”
“What kind of protection?”
“Anything that needs guarding.” Assets. People, priceless artifacts, secrets. “I’ve never lied to you, Kara. I was as honest as I was allowed to be.”
“You said you were a teacher.”
“An instructor.” The distinction was minor, but important. “Tactical driving and firearms.”
She blinked.
“Hawkeye has a training facility on several hundred acres. It’s not too far from your family’s lodge in Nevada. Where we met.”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me why you abandoned me.”
With care, he chose his words. “It was an unexpected mission.”
“In the middle of the night?” Skepticism knitted her eyebrows and dripped from her question.
Where to begin? How much to reveal? “There was a case three years ago. We were charged with protecting the transportation of”—big fucking missiles—“something important. We were sold out.” Brant picked up a flat stone and tossed it, skipping it across the water. “A fellow agent didn’t make it back. The night I left, we got a lead on the bad guy. For me, it was personal. I needed to be part of bringing him down.”
“And you couldn’t say anything to me? You didn’t trust me? After I gave you my body, my—”
The gift of her innocence. Her heart?
“Everything you asked for. I held nothing back from you, ever.”
Her whispered admission eviscerated him.
He skipped another stone, then he remained silent until the ripples subsided. “The team needed to move quickly.”
“You never called.”
“I fucked up. Big-time.”
“Something we agree on.”
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Not once since he left home at sixteen had he needed to consider anyone else when making decisions. “But I can promise you it will never happen again.”
She exhaled a small breath, and tension seemed to drain from her shoulders. “Did you bring strawberries like you promised?”
“Organic, even.” He stood and offered his hand.
After a tiny hesitation, she slid her palm against his. He’d forgotten how slight she was, how perfectly her body fit with his.
Brant drew her up, and he never wanted to let her go. “Kara…”
She tipped back her head. “Yes.”
Like a man dying of thirst, he claimed her mouth. At first he was gentle, then as she surrendered, he devoured her, tasting the sweetness of wine on her tongue. But there was something different also, a determination that hadn’t existed before. In order to deserve her, he had to be a better man, and he was ready to make promises he intended to keep.
For some time afterward, he held her, stroking her hair, breathing deeply for the first time in months. He’d craved this kind of connection. “The first thing I did when I returned to Nevada was sleep for eighteen hours.”
“And the second?”
“Went to your cabin.” He’d pounded on the door, looked in every window.
A woman who introduced herself as the manager informed him that Kara no longer worked there. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”
She reached for his scar, and he let her.
“It happened in South America.” For a while, his teammates weren’t sure he’d make it. “Thoughts of you got me through.”
Her touch was light and healing.
“Where are you staying?”
“The Old Jackson Motel. I think it was remodeled sometime in the seventies. Orange chair. Shag carpeting.”
“I know the place.” She grinned. “Threadbare towels.”
“The worst. They only gave me one, and it’s not big enough to go around my waist.”
She allowed her gaze to meander down his body, reminding him of the way she’d looked at him months ago. Desire mixed with hunger. Instantly his cock hardened in demand.
“How about we eat that picnic at my place?”
Dare he hope?
“I’m hungry,” she admitted. “For something other than food.”
God in heaven. Fuck.
“Just tonight.”
Brant Gibson was a greedy man, but at this moment he was willing to take anything she offered. It was more than he could have hoped for. And it was an opportunity to give him the chance to convince her they belonged together.
Chapter Three
Brant closed and locked the door behind them, sealing out the world, sending her pulse thundering, making her question her decisions. The pain of his desertion still lay coiled in a corner of her heart.
She reminded herself he was still the same man who’d left.
Or was he?
He’d never been so revealing before. His explanation about his mission had been laden with emotion, captivating her. She’d viscerally experienced his loyalty to his fallen teammate, and she respected that.
Enough so that she’d boldly responded to his sensuous, demanding kiss. And then shocked herself by inviting him back to her cabin.
Though her brain continued to blast warnings at her, she ignored them in favor of the hunger burning inside.
“Ready to eat?” He dropped his backpack to the tile floor.
“Maybe later.”
His slow, sizzling smile riveted her. “Something else on your mind?”
She trailed two fingers down his chest, stopping on his rock-hard abs. And then she gasped when he leaned toward her purposefully, seizing control.
He backed her up against the door, sweeping up her shirt, then effortlessly tugging off her sports bra. Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted. Her nipples throbbed with insistent demand.
“I’m asking per
mission.”
Always, always, he was the gentleman, even in the throes of passion. “I want you.”
As she kicked off her sandals, he unfastened her hiking pants and let them fall.
Before her, he dropped to his knees and tugged off her panties.
Unerringly he closed his mouth around her heat, licking, sucking, driving her wild. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed his hair so she didn’t topple over as the first climax ripped through her. “Brant!”
He spread her wider, then teased her clit with his tongue, flicking back and forth until her knees buckled.
“I need…” This was so much, too much, and simultaneously not enough.
“Ask me.”
He’d never allowed her to be passive. At first she’d been uncomfortable, but over their time together, she’d discovered her own power, and she’d always appreciated that.
“I want you inside me.”
“Fuck, Kara. From now till the end of time.” He inserted a finger deep inside her, angling it to find her G-spot.
Sensation after sensation ripped through her, and she screamed his name, digging her fingertips into his shoulders. “I want more, Brant. Make love to me.”
He groaned. “Please tell me you have condoms.”
“In the bathroom. Through the bedroom.”
He captured her wrist, loosely enough that she could escape. But she didn’t want to.
It only took him a few seconds to find the half-used box, the same one she’d had at the old place.
He picked it up, then glanced at her.
“It’s only ever been you, Brant.”
“Jesus.” His groan was guttural, arcing through her.
Impatiently she fisted his shirt, untucking it with one solid pull. He helped her take it off, then she tossed the garment on the vanity.
His chest bore a couple of new scars, another awful reminder of what he’d been through. She ached for him, and a sudden yearning to keep him safe rippled through her.
After pocketing a condom, he swept her from her feet and carried her to the bed. Gently he sat her on the side of the mattress.
“I missed you.” She’d never meant to admit that aloud, but his honesty had created an air of intimacy that invited her deepest confession.