Absolution (26 page)

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Authors: Kaylea Cross

BOOK: Absolution
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His tired gaze strayed unerringly to Jamul’s study down the hall. After tonight he didn’t feel like working anymore, but he should at least check his email one last time in case Davis’s family had contacted him again. Families always wanted more 209

Kaylea Cross

information about their loved ones’ death. Details of their final moments. Whether they’d suffered or not.

At least when Luke told them their son hadn’t suffered, this time it would be the truth for a change.

Davis hadn’t known what hit him, and that was the only blessing Luke could think of.

His steps were silent as he made his way down the hall. A faint glow came from the edge of the doorway, where the door was opened a crack. Had he left the light on before he’d gone? He couldn’t remember.

Reaching the door, he pushed it open slowly, peering around the room. He stopped dead, a peculiar sensation in his chest like his heart had just rolled over.

Emily was curled up in an armchair in the corner across from the desk, sound asleep with a cup of tea resting on the table next to her elbow. No steam curled from its surface. Her pale pink lips were parted slightly, and she had a thin blanket tucked beneath her chin. Her neck was tilted at a bad angle, her head resting against the wing of the chair. The awkward position had knocked her bobbed wig askew. Tenderness welled up, swift and painful.
Ah, sweetheart
.

How long had she been waiting up for him?

Probably for hours. He shook his head at her stubbornness.

Careful not to make any sound, he walked over and touched the tea cup. Cold. He was willing to bet it had been that way for some time, too. He watched her for another few minutes, tracking the slow, even rise and fall of her chest. One dainty bare foot poked out from beneath the blanket. Her toenails were impeccably polished with a shade of brilliant red. A true lady to the core.

What am I going to do with you, Em?

Luke fought with himself as he stared down at 210

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her. The sight of her fragile and fighting for her life, yet curled up in that chair in an uncomfortable position because she’d been worried about him... It choked him up. He was so damn tired of all of this.

Tired of living with nothing but regret and responsibility, chasing shadows across the globe.

And he was tired of living with the guilt of what he’d done to her and Rayne. He’d hurt them both so badly.

And yet she’d never once given up on him. Emily had always believed in him, no matter what. And now he’d dragged her here despite her wish to stay in the home she loved and found comfort in, all because he’d failed to get Tehrazzi.

He’d stayed away for so long, but...he couldn’t maintain the distance between them anymore. The consequences were too terrible. He hated to admit the possibility, but Em might have only months left.

Tomorrow he returned to Afghanistan, back to the bleak, unforgiving mountains. Chances were, he wasn’t coming back this time. Tehrazzi was good enough to kill him when they crossed paths again.

Whatever else happened, Luke owed it to Emily and himself to give them the goodbye they’d never had.

She needed to know he loved her, had never stopped loving her. He was tired of holding back.

Dropping to one knee, he lifted an unsteady hand and brushed a lock of hair away from her flushed cheek. The instant he touched her soft skin her lids flew open and her head came up. Vivid green eyes focused on him and she sat up with a gasp. He kept his hand where it was. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Luke,” she breathed, grabbing him around the shoulders and holding him tight.

He squeezed his eyes shut and fought the sting of tears. She felt tiny in his embrace when he gathered her close and pressed his face into the side 211

Kaylea Cross

of her neck. Small and delicate, yet she loved so fiercely. He pulled in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the vanilla scent of the lotion she always used after a bath. His chest tightened further. Damn, he was an inch away from losing it.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He was now.

Sighing sleepily, Emily cuddled in tighter and stroked his hair. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I’m not okay
, he wanted to say.
I can’t take
losing you again
. But she pulled back and took his face in her slender hands, and her smile was serene as a Madonna’s. “I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were home safe and sound,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “And here I am.”

“Hmmm,” she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Her body seemed to melt into his, growing pliant and supple. Because she trusted him.

Luke slid his arms beneath her and scooped her up, blanket and all. In response she settled against him with a contented sound and laid her head on his chest. Beneath her cheek, his heart thudded hard against his ribs. She felt perfect in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to take care of her, be there for her through her illness. To hold her and cherish her for whatever time they had left. The sudden lump in his throat made it hard to breathe as he strode down the hall and up the stairs to Emily’s room. Pausing next to her bed, he glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t stir when he shifted his grip. Sound asleep because she was so exhausted from the chemo and waiting up for him. Knowing it was probably for the best, he eased her onto the bed and pulled the thick duvet over her robe, removing the blanket from the den. The wig moved slightly. She immediately shot a hand up to 212

Absolution

grab it, and her eyes snapped open to find his.

Trepidation and fatigue filled her gaze. Worried he’d seen beneath the wig.

“Don’t worry it’s still there,” he whispered, and her hand lowered slowly to her pillow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but he was damn close.

He wanted to crawl in next to her so badly his muscles knotted. Instead he knelt next to the bed and gently rubbed her back through the covers, hoping to soothe her. She brought one hand up to take one of his and kiss it, then twined her fingers through his and laid their hands on her pillow. Her eyes drifted closed again. The quiet spread throughout the room while he continued to stroke her back, dying to give her so much more, but he hated to wake her when she obviously needed to rest. When he was sure she was asleep, he reluctantly withdrew his hand from hers and stood.

For several minutes longer he watched her, memorizing every precious detail of her face. Then he made himself leave the room.

Shutting his own door behind him, he went into the bathroom and fired up the shower. When the water was hot as he could take it, he stripped and stepped under the spray, leaning one hand against the tiled wall. He closed his eyes and let his head sag on his shoulders while the water ran over him. His brain was full of dismal images. In a few more hours he’d be in a chopper on his way back into the mountains of north-eastern Afghanistan. The snow would cover the barren terrain, and the temperature would be bone chilling even without the razor-sharp winds that scoured the Hindu Kush. After tonight God knew when he’d ever get another hot shower, or a hot meal for that matter. For the foreseeable future he’d spend what little time he got for rest huddled and shivering in some dug-out abandoned 213

Kaylea Cross

by al Qaeda or the Taliban during the carpet bombing performed by the US at the start of the war on terror. The knowledge depressed the shit out of him. Once he’d soaped and scrubbed himself clean, he got out to towel off and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. God, he looked like a mountain man with his shaggy hair and beard sprinkled with far more gray than there’d been a few months ago. He was still in good shape, but the years were starting to catch up with him. Back in his twenties and thirties, fifty had seemed goddamn ancient. Now that he’d reached the milestone, it didn’t seem very old. His body didn’t
feel
old, and neither did his mind. Yet the years had crept up on him without him noticing. He was halfway through his best-case scenario life span, and his life was a pile of shit.

God. Had he wasted the best years of his life?

The question scared the shit out of him. Because the honest answer was he suspected he had. And there was nothing he could do to get those years back.

Reflected in the mirror, his eyes were time-worn. Weary. He thought of Emily asleep in the next room, curled up alone in that big bed. He thought of her unrelenting loyalty and devotion to him and everyone she cared about. She gave it without reservation, even if she never received it in return.

Even if he and a lot of others she’d given it to didn’t deserve it.

Luke exhaled deeply, urgency building inside him. Shit, he couldn’t stay away any more. He needed to go to her and at least hold her against him for the few hours he had left. Needed it more than he needed air to breathe.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he left the bathroom and headed for the door. Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. A lump lay 214

Absolution

curled up beneath the covers on his bed. He swallowed, heart turning over in his chest.
Em
.

She was on her side with her hands tucked under her ivory cheek, innocent as a child in the snowy white sheets. And too beautiful for words.

The bed dipped beneath his weight when he settled a hip on the edge of it, but she didn’t waken.

He admired the hell out of her quiet courage.

Coming in here again couldn’t have been easy for her. Yet tired as she was, she’d dragged herself in here and climbed into his bed to be with him, whether for comfort or something more. How the hell could he not reach for her?

When he touched her shoulder her eyes flickered open, the luminous moss-green almost disappearing as her pupils expanded in the dimness.

“Hi,” she murmured, pushing up onto one elbow.

She tucked her blood-red robe around her legs as she looked up at him, eyes full of a quiet hunger that made his guts clench. “I didn’t want to sleep alone.”

A blast of heat flooded him, chasing away the chill in his soul. It swirled through his bloodstream to his muscles before settling in his groin. His cock lengthened and swelled beneath the confines of the towel, growing tight and painful. Wanting in her,
now
. The faint light coming through the windows from the security lights across the yard illuminated her ethereal features. She looked like an angel staring up at him. A very nervous, uncertain angel.

Wondering if she was welcome in his bed.

When she continued gazing at him without moving, he understood what she wanted. She wanted him to take the decision about what would happen next out of her hands. To seduce her into letting go. She’d always loved it.

Worked for him. He preferred controlling things, in and out of bed. But knowing she was unsure of 215

Kaylea Cross

herself wasn’t okay. After the other night, she had to know he still wanted her. Didn’t she know she would always be beautiful to him? How ultra-feminine and outrageously sexy he found her? She needed to accept her body and not be ashamed of it. Luke vowed to take any and all fears from her tonight.

He would erase the doubt and pain embedded in her eyes, and replace it with pleasure until they both went blind from it. He needed to do that. For himself as much as for her. Every touch would give pleasure and restore her confidence, give her the comfort she so obviously needed. She’d trusted him once. Deeply, and without reservation. He could reach her on that same level again, if she’d only let him in that far.

Would she?

Planting one hand next to her head on the pillow, he bent over her and trailed his index finger across her cheek, watching her eyes. The green depths flared with instant arousal before she lowered her lids and leaned into his touch. Softness and deceptive strength in a combination that never failed to turn him inside out.

Luke dipped his head to brush soft kisses across her eyelids and cheeks, down her straight nose to hover over her mouth. He feathered over the seam of her lips, teasing and tempting until she threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him down. Her mouth parted beneath his, opening for the tender stroke of his tongue against hers. She was like warm silk, and he couldn’t get enough.

Her soft moan made his whole body hard, but he forced himself to take things gentle and slow.

Leaning further over her, his hands took his weight while he sank further into her, losing himself in the feel and taste of her. Emily stirred beneath him, her robe parting slightly as she stretched out to twine her calves around his. Her hands slid down his neck to his shoulders and arms, pausing to squeeze his 216

Absolution

muscles before moving to his back. The delighted moan she made at touching him had him sliding his hands beneath her back to bring her closer. He’d always loved that his body turned her on. She made him feel powerful and masculine while pulling out all the tenderness in his soul.

Oh God, touch me. Hold me.

He kissed her harder, angling his head while he lowered his weight atop her. He shuddered at the feel of her beneath him. Growing impatient, Emily gripped the edge of the towel around his hips and pulled. Luke traced a damp path with his tongue down her long, lovely throat. She shivered in his arms, tilting her head back like an offering. He inhaled the intoxicating scent of her skin and took what she exposed, finding the most sensitive point where her neck met her shoulder and gently scraped his teeth against it. She jerked, and he laved away the little sting with his tongue. Her hands tightened on his back. He sucked the spot firmly. Her quiet gasp was full of anticipation, and all the reassurance he needed that she was as into this as him.

Never leaving her throat, he reached for the neckline of her robe where the two halves came together and caressed the skin over her sternum.

She tensed and brought her hand up to grab his wrist, but he anticipated the move and circled hers with his fingers, pulling it away to her side. He wasn’t going to let her be ashamed of her body. Not for one second.

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