Swept Away (57 page)

He tipped a beer bottle to his mouth, watching as she exited her Lexus coupe. She felt
overdressed for the surroundings in a suede miniskirt, high-heeled slip-ons, and a beaded cami.

He, on the other hand, wore jeans with a rip in one knee and a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut
out. He looked hot and sweaty—and good enough to eat.

But she had to ignore that and do what she’d come to do. In her fist, she clutched the stone pendant—both pieces.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she decided not to let that happen, to just get to the point of
why she was here. “I came to give these to you.”

“Give what to me?”

She was holding them out, but he wasn’t taking them, so she dropped them on his stomach. “I
don’t want them. Give them back to Guatemala.”

The chunks of carved rock had bounced off him into the grass at his side, but he just peered up at her. “Why don’t you want them?”

“Because when I see them I don’t think of them being one now, I still think of the separate
pieces. Instead of thinking of the lovers’ souls being together, I think of them dying alone,
apart.”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, then finally spoke, his voice low. “Maybe it’s real. Maybe
we brought their souls back together somewhere, somehow.”

That he could utter such words, let alone believe in them, stunned her, but she ignored that. “I
still don’t want them,” she said, then turned to stomp back toward her car, even though it was a
little hard to stomp over the uneven ground in heels.

“Wait, kitten, don’t go.”

She spun to face him, feeling a surprising sense of rage. “Quit calling me that!”

For the second time in the last two occasions she’d seen him, he looked hurt. “But it’s what I
call you.”

And that tore at her heart a little, yet she couldn’t let herself care about that any more than she could let herself feel how good he looked sitting there in that old vinyl seat. “You don’t need to
call me anything anymore, since I hope never to see you again.”

She turned to leave once more, but he got to his feet in a flash, closing the distance between
them to grab her wrist. “Wait, kitten—Kat. Stay and talk to me. I miss you.” When she said
nothing in reply, he added, “I love you.”

The last time he’d said it, she’d been too utterly shocked to let herself fully absorb it—that sentiment coming from this man—but this time, the words moved through her like slow liquid
heat, settling in all her most sensitive places.

Even so, she said, “Not enough. It doesn’t matter.”

“Please,” he said, turning her to face him, taking both her hands in his, “please listen to me.”

She let out a sigh, sorry to hear her breath come out ragged. Oh God, the effect he had on her
—still—no matter how strong she’d come here determined to be. “What?” she said. “What do
you have to say that changes anything?”

“Look at me,” he said, and she realized her eyes had been planted firmly on his torso, not wanting to face him. She forced her gaze upward and met those dark, delectable eyes that
always held her captive with just a glance.

“I’ve been... miserable,” he told her, brows knit, face wrenched. “Miserable without you.” It
had sounded like a sadder version of I love you, and she could have sworn she almost heard his heart breaking.

Her voice came too small. “Really?”

“Kitten, do you have any idea what it took for me to get your dad off from those charges? Inside me, I mean? If that doesn’t prove I love you, then nothing does.”

She swallowed, her chest tightening. While she’d appreciated Brock’s efforts on her dad’s behalf, she really hadn’t thought about how it must have affected him personally—that he’d
sacrificed something for her, something big.

“And if you could have looked inside my heart out on that island, when there was a gun
pointed at you—you would have seen that I was dying inside, Kat. Dying. The idea of losing
you was worse than anything else I could imagine.”

She’d been so terrified that day that she’d blocked much of it out, but she could still remember
the look in his eyes, the determination in his voice.

“Give me another chance, honey, and I promise I won’t let anything keep us apart this time—
you’ll be first now. But not just now. From now on.”

She wondered if she could possibly be hearing this right. “Now on?” Another short nod. “I’m thinking forever.”

It was as if someone had just pumped air into her heart, inflating it.

Brock squeezed her hands in his, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, maybe that pendant really united our souls—but the truth is, I think it happened on the island. I fell in love with you, and
even though the smuggling operation still seemed important, I actually forgot about it for a
while. Which I never do. And then we came back and the ends got tied up, the bad guys brought down, and all it left was you. Normally, I’d be ready for the next case, the next
challenge, but all I really want to challenge me now is you, kitten. So challenge me, please.”

She peered into his eyes. “How?”

“Show me how to love somebody.”

“What?” She didn’t understand.

His eyes dropped, but he held her hands more tightly. “The only person who ever really loved
me the right way was my grandfather, Kat. And I think he and Bruno are the only people I ever
loved.”

“Not your parents?”

He lifted his gaze, shook his head. “I’m not one of those guys who loved them despite what they did. If anything, it turned off something inside me. I’ve just never let myself get close to people. Until now. You.”

She shook her head, thoroughly bewildered. “What happened? Why me?”

“Maybe you’re like the sand and I’m like the glass.” He cocked a slight, sheepish, thoroughly
endearing grin. “I tumble around with you enough and it changes me, rubs away my sharp
edges.”

She smiled at the analogy, too, then bit her lower lip, thinking of “tumbling around” with him.

“Can you forgive me, kitten? For being blind and stubborn and selfish and God knows what else?”

“Bossy,” she added softly. “You have a tendency to be really bossy.”

He leaned nearer, bringing their foreheads close. “I’m sorry I ever hurt you, baby. I won’t do it
again if you’ll forgive me and let us start over.”

When she looked up at him, their mouths were only inches apart. “Today’s my birthday,” she
whispered.

He cast a soft grin. “Happy birthday, kitten.”

“And you still owe me a present from ten years ago.”

He arched a brow. “Can’t exactly take your virginity anymore, can I?”

She tilted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You never know. Maybe there’s a little bit of it
left. The part I saved.”

“Saved?”

“For whoever showed up with that other half of the pendant. For the sexy guy who worked for
my dad and turned me all tingly inside. For the man who would promise me forever. I know
you may think I’m a little wild—but all I ever wanted, Brock, was to find the right guy to be
wild with.”

“Lucky for us that I happen to be all of the above.”

Kat’s heart soared. This wasn’t a dream. Or a fantasy. This was Brock Denton, in the flesh, giving her his heart, his love. And she couldn’t help thinking it was a much greater gift since
he’d never given it to any other woman before her.

But then she remembered. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to meet Nina and some other friends for dinner.”

“Well, you’re gonna be late.” Pure heat dripped from his eyes as the sun began to sink behind
the trees in the distance, turning the air dusky. And that heat seemed to reach inside her and
grab hold of her, all of her—the girl who’d wanted him so badly ten years ago, and the woman
who was about to have him.

Pressing her palms flat against his chest, she walked him backward over the dirt, into the grass,
then pushed him down in the car seat. He gazed up at her in hot anticipation as she straddled
him, just like once before. Of course, she had clothes on this time. But they wouldn’t get in the
way for long.

Their bodies melded perfectly, her softest spot meeting with the incredible length of hardness
behind his zipper. They both released small, hot moans, and Brock growled, “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Missed this.” Lifting her hands to his stubbled jaws, she lowered her
lips onto his mouth, then pressed her tongue inside. His hands roamed her hips, waist, breasts.
She sighed, “Oh God,” between kisses.

“I want you, kitten,” he murmured, pushing her top up over her chest to reveal a transparent
flesh-colored bra. “Damn,” he said again at the sight, then nibbled at one stiffened peak through
the filmy fabric.

Part of Kat wanted to go slow, savor this moment, but most of her wanted to go much faster, because it had been too long—and Brock seemed of the same mind.

He locked the fingertips of both hands into the cups of her bra and pulled them down, freeing
her. She reached between them for his zipper and the button on his jeans. Pushing beneath her
skirt, he drew her panties aside and she sucked in her breath as a shockingly cool evening
breeze washed over them, making her nipples pucker even tighter beneath his ministrations.

Both of them breathed hard by the time she lifted, lowered, and sheathed him with her body,
and they both groaned at the slow, hot connection. And she clung to him, her arms around his neck, his wrapping warm around her back. Because she’d never felt closer to another human being in her life, and this had seemed so impossible just an hour ago, and now here they were, sharing the most profound intimacy she could imagine. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear,
unable to believe it was the first time she’d ever said it out loud.

“Ah, kitten, I love you, too. So, so much.”

And then they moved together, hot and sweet, until she came, a pure joy she’d never
experienced before rushing through her—because this was real, and it mattered. He loved her,
too.

“Oh God,” he said as she wafted back to earth. “Watching you do that just pushed me over the
edge, baby.” And then he was thrusting up inside her, hard, deep, powerful, groaning,
groaning, until they went still in one another’s arms, just holding each other.

It was a few, long, languid, glorious minutes later that they were readjusting their clothes and she realized Brock’s gaze had dropped to her navel. She knew what had caught his eye—the
thing she’d done for herself when Nina had told her she had to do something defiant. A small
tattoo set to the left of her belly button—a slightly prissy, feminine-looking cat, underneath it in fancy script the word kitten.