2000 Kisses (29 page)

S
he was wearing a skimpy piece of silk.

Searching green eyes. Tousled red hair with streaks of gold and a proud, generous mouth.

And plain black glasses.

The combination short-circuited something inside him. All McCall could think about was inventive ways to take off those glasses.

Then he thought of reckless, uncivilized ways to take off everything but those glasses.

He cleared his throat. “We can both fit here.”

“You don't mind?”

There were faint lines under her eyes. A bruise darkened her right wrist. Every instinct screamed for T.J. to sweep her close and use the heat of their linked bodies to drive away the fear in her face.

But he didn't move. She was probably still in pain and definitely under the influence of Doc Felton's pills. He wasn't about to take advantage of either circumstance.

He had pushed her earlier, and now he regretted it keenly. This time T.J. was determined to be sane and reasonable.

“It's fine. Come and have a seat.”

It pained him to see that she was awkward and uneasy as she sank down beside him on the glider.

Briefly, T.J. considered telling her about his conversation with Andrew, She was entitled to the facts, but not just then. Fair or not, he couldn't bring himself to cause more shadows under her eyes. Andrew's news would have to wait.

Her hands twisted again. “You
really
don't mind?”

He answered by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “There's no place better for watching the stars come out. It's also a perfect spot to talk.”

“Wait. Just wait. There's something I need to say.” Her hands twisted again. “What just happened—well, it was wrong of me to push you.” She raised a hand as T.J. started to speak. “No, let me finish. Andrew shouldn't have sent me here. You can protest all you want, but my presence here endangers you and everyone else in Almost.” Her gaze met his. “What if someone is hurt? How could I live with that?”

T.J. didn't insult her intelligence by laughing off the question. Her concerns were real, and the danger could affect others. “We'll do everything possible to avoid that. But if it happens, we'll handle it.”

She stiffened slightly. “That's all? You pick up your life and go on as if nothing had happened?”

“Your apologies are duly noted and recorded. And no, I won't ignore anything. Neither will you. But I'm the one who's paid to worry about the risks and how to control them.”

Something flared in her eyes. “Paid? My brother's paying you to protect me?”

“Andrew's not paying me a penny, Tess. I meant
that it's my job as a law-enforcement officer to assess threats and provide security.”

She latched on to the subject with fervent determination, “if Andrew's not paying you, then I will. I know how busy you are and I want to make some reasonable compensation.” She frowned at him behind the black glasses. “Is one hundred dollars per day enough? No, I suppose not. A professional like you can probably get five times that much in fee private sector.” She gnawed at her lip. “Well then, let's make it three hundred dollars per day. I'd go higher but I can't touch my bank account for reasons that you already understand. Money might be a little tight for me until I—”

Fury boiled over at her offer. Pay him? She wanted to pay him, as if he were an employee?

He threaded his fingers through her hair and anchored her head, locking his mouth in a way that was almost as rough as the curse that exploded from his throat. He didn't give her time to move, protest, or question as he nipped her mouth, savored thoroughly.

As anger flared hotter, he let her feel his tongue, let her feel die need fisted at his gut. Then he prowled, tormented, stroked—-to please himself. He hadn't meant to feel anything, but he was doing it again. Dimly he sensed that this time he would have no strength to walk away.

Gone was the subtlety and the wooing. He took and took again, bending her back in his arms while he devoured the wet satin of her mouth. She tasted like mocha cappuccino and one of the raspberries he'd left on the kitchen counter. The combination hit him like a kidney punch.

When her pulse was slamming and her breath came jerkily, he pulled free. Locked his hands on her hair. Scowled at her. “No money.”

Even behind the glasses, he saw her eyes were dazed. Her lips were reddened from his kiss. TJ. wanted to kiss them for a few lifetimes more.

“You don't want money? But I owe you for—”

His fingers tightened, just at the edge of ruthless. “I said
no
money.” T.J. didn't like the vicious kick at his chest, the hammer of his pulse, and he hated the way his control was unraveling. “Andrew asked, and I agreed. That makes this a favor, something personal.” His jaw clenched. “Very personal, Tess. So don't mention money again, or I just might get nasty.”

“Fine.” She stared, just stared, color streaking her cheeks. Then she touched the tip of her tongue to her lip.

Just once.

T.J. felt the effect slash all the way to his knees.

To his credit, he didn't move as she traced his jaw with her finger or even when she rested both palms flat against his chest. “I might be able to compensate you some other way, Sheriff.”

T.J. lost the ability to think for a moment as anger climbed to new heights. “Compensate?” he asked carefully, keeping a leash on the shreds of his control.

Her tongue moved again, this time dipping over her full lower lip. Her fingers skimmed across his chest. “For your protection efforts.”

With a snarl, he gripped her wrists. “This isn't about compensation, dammit. It has nothing to do with official business.”

Her chin rose. “No?”

“No.”

“Fine. I just wanted us both to be certain of that.”

The words left him cursing. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

“A decent man. A man with a streak of honor a mile
wide. A man who's being pushed to the limit, and in the process he's turned my world upside down,” she whispered. Her fingers feathered lower. “A very hard man.”

He closed his eyes at that slight, skimming touch. Unbearable if she continued. Even more unbearable if she stopped.

Twilight draped the peaks in flawless electric blue. One cloud topped the horizon, pink and purple in the fading sunlight.

“Look. There's the first star.”

He managed to relax enough to chuckle. 'That's Venus, not a star.”

“It looks like a star to me.”

“No,” T.J. whispered, “you look like the star.” His throat was dry. He knew he was about to do something irreversible and reckless, but he couldn't seem to care. “You're beautiful enough to make a wish on,”

“So make one.”

“I did. I think it's already happening.”

She smiled with aching beauty, fitting her body to his. “I doubt anything could be better than this.”

“You're wrong about that.” His voice was husky. “I'll show you just how wrong, Duchess.”

Her eyes shimmered like the planet gleaming above the far horizon. She wasn't his type, TJ. knew. She didn't know the first thing about relaxing, and public relations was only a phrase to him. There wasn't a single compatible thing between them.

And it made no difference. There was only one way this amazing awareness between them could end, and he didn't want to take any bets on who would be hurt the most.

Tess brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Venus. That's the lovers star, isn't it?”

There was a pounding in his ears as her perfume drifted around him. “Could be.”

Abruptly Miguel's words whispered through his mind.
This
woman could be many things to you, I think. Sometimes a path must lead far away before it brings one home.

Her head moved to the curve of his shoulder. Her hand stole around his waist. “Sorry I brought up money.” She looked up, her gaze searching in the velvet twilight. “I had to be sure that this—” She brought her hand to his chest, where his blood hammered. “That this
was
personal. Not business. Especially if things went further.”

“Oh, things
are
going further,” he said, realizing he'd made his decision the second he'd seen her so worried and uncertain behind those crazy black glasses. “And it's damned well going to be personal when I touch you, Tess.” He brought her palm to his lips, surprising them both with the gesture. He enjoyed the way pleasure skittered over her face as he found the warm center of her hand and nipped softly.

Her eyes closed on a sigh. Her body flowed against him, all curves to his hard angles. “In that case, there's something you should know.” Her head tilted, giving access to her neck as he covered her with slow, measuring kisses. “Just so you're sure—so you understand.”

He skimmed her shoulder and eased her robe lower, greedy for more of her. “Understand what?”

“Things.” She swallowed as he opened the robe, inch by slow inch, his eyes hot with intent.

“What kind of things?” he muttered hoarsely.

The robe trailed lower, then settled on the upper swell of her breasts. “It's important.” Her breath caught.
“To you, especially.” She held the robe in place, her fingers trembling.

“Is there someone else?” His whole body went tense.

“No. Not in a. long-time.”

“Fine.” Past tense he could live with. He didn't want a list of the other men she'd known. Andrew had said there weren't many and one or a dozen made no difference. T.J. knew her body and her moods. What she felt with him would be different from what she'd tasted with any other man; he'd damned well see to that.

The dark, feral part of him growled that he would be her last, her best, the one who'd strip her bare and make her scream in pleasure. They'd spend the rest of their lives learning how to please each other.

But it was a dream.

Forever wasn't possible. Boston and Arizona were at two ends of the continent, and two poles apart in state of mind. So he'd settle for tonight, for making a now that felt like forever and a joy that would be an enduring gift for both of them.

He traced the corner of her mouth and frowned. “I hope you're not going to tell me you were behind that bank job in Flagstaff last month.”

“Of course I wasn't.”

He nodded gravely. “What about that counterfeiting ring in Nogales?”

She shook her head.

He brushed her breast beneath the fine lace and silk and watched the crown stiffen and swell at his touch. He followed with his mouth.

Her eyes darkened. He enjoyed how her breath caught.

“Not part of that car-jacking operation over in
Yuma, were you? If so, I'd have to get my cuffs.” He held her captive beneath his palms, her skin hot and tight with arousal.

“N-no. Of course not. But I—”

“Good.” The robe fell. Only her skin met his cal-lused fingers. He closed his eyes, wanting her everywhere, in every way a man could possess. When he looked at her again, desire hazed her eyes, and color skimmed her cheeks.

Then T.J. froze at the sight of the dark streaks at her rib and elbow.

His hands gently skimmed the bruises from her fall. He didn't want to hurt her, but there were ways to manage that. In fact, he was planning to be infinitely inventive about what he did next.

He swept her up before she could question or protest, the robe clinging to her waist. Five steps brought him across the porch, beneath a tangle of crimson bougainvillea. Five more brought him to the waterfall that raced down into a pool of churning water.

“T.J.?”

He worked off her robe and let it fall to the hand-cut flagstones, savoring the sight of her until color swirled through her face. Then he stepped over the rocks into the pool with Tess locked in his arms and let warm water lap around them.

“You—you're still dressed.”

He was devoutly thankful he'd already kicked off his boots. Wet jeans might even be an asset, holding back the savage fantasies that had to stay just that until her bruises healed.

“It's lovely,” she whispered as the water frothed and swirled around them. “But aren't you uncomfortable?”

With wet denim hugging his rigidly aroused anatomy, uncomfortable wasn't even close. He managed a casual shrug. “Forget about me.”

It wasn't hard to stare as water streaked her skin, rendering the narrow strips of lace translucent, but the sight of her all-too-fresh bruises left T.J. clamping down viciously on his desire. He was congratulating himself on his success, when her hip brushed his thigh.

She gave a startled sound, her gaze on his face. “You're so—-that is, you feel as if-—” Her face went crimson. “Of course you are. It's the heat, the water. It's perfectly normal.”

Cursing, he pulled her astride his thighs as the water jetted around them. “News flash, Duchess. The heat and the water have
nothing
to do with it.” He tried to ignore the wet action of her thighs, covered by a mere wedge of lace. “Now, what was so important before?”

“Important?”

“Something that you had to tejl me.”

She drew a breath. “It's not easy to say To remember.”

Another man? Jealousy swiped at him with vicious claws, but he kept his expression calm. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm a police officer, remember? You can't say anything I haven't heard before.”