Hunted (11 page)

He tweaked the end of her nose. “I know. Now go on, go keep Bauer’s cranky ass company.” He kissed the top of her head and walked away, toward the parking garage where he’d left his vehicle.

Zoe stared after him, conflicting emotions swirling inside her. Joy that her cousin and best friend were about to take the next step in their relationship—because she had no doubt that Celida would say yes when Tuck asked her—and a surprisingly painful ache of something resembling…loss. Which was weird, because she hadn’t been looking for anything permanent with Clay, and yet the reality of there not being even a possibility of something between them, hurt a lot more than she would have imagined.

The bump on her cheek throbbed in time with her heartbeat as she walked back down the sidewalk, entered her gate and locked it behind her. She found Clay waiting in the courtyard, standing beside the cobalt-blue door, and the sight of him there with his muscled arms folded across his wide chest hit her like a punch to the diaphragm, taking her breath away. He had a magnetic pull on her, his quiet yet commanding presence impossible to ignore.

He frowned when she stepped into the light of the lantern hanging above them on a wall of the courtyard. “What happened?”

“What? Oh,” she said, touching one hand to the wetness on her face. She wiped the last of her tears away. “Happy news. It’s all good.” She wasn’t going to explain, but she’d be surprised if Tuck hadn’t already mentioned something to Clay about his plans, since they worked and lived together.

Those vivid blue eyes searched hers as she approached. “You sure you want me to stay? I can still catch up with Tuck if you’ve changed your mind.”

It was little, unexpected glimpses of care and consideration like that from him that made it near impossible for her to merely be his acquaintance. After the time they’d spent together just before and after he was injured and the occasional e-mail since, she considered him a friend, but she wasn’t sure he saw her that way. “No, of course not. I’m sure.”

Except she wasn’t sure at all anymore. Not about what she wanted with or even from him at this point, nor whether she could pull back emotionally when she’d been so set on becoming lovers, maybe more.

Who are you kidding? You definitely wanted more.

Yeah, she did. That’s why Tuck’s words were hitting her so hard.

Clay didn’t say anything more as she unlocked the door and punched her code into the alarm keypad. She was keenly aware of him behind her as she led the way up the old, creaky stairs to the main level, and conscious of the buzz of nervous anticipation squirmed in her belly. She could almost feel his eyes on her bare nape and shoulders, lingering on her ass as she moved. More tingles flowed through her, heating her insides. He was a powerful, outrageously sexy man. Pretending she didn’t want him was going to be an exhausting effort.

As she reached the top of the stairs Tuck’s warning echoed in her mind but the stubborn part of her refused to abandon all hope. She
knew
something had changed between her and Clay tonight. She’d felt it in the cab when he’d gone with her to meet Leticia. She’d seen it when he’d picked her up off the floor at the bar and she’d caught the concern in his eyes. He’d been so comforting and protective, in his own quiet, alpha male way. Her shoulder tingled as she remembered the feel of his hand where it had curled around her, the warmth and hardness of his arm as it rested across her upper back.

He’d have been protective of any woman in that situation. It doesn’t mean anything.

She desperately wanted it to though.

Blowing out a breath, she hooked her purse on the newel post and headed for the kitchen. “You want anything to drink?”

“No thanks, don’t worry about me. You should put some ice on that before it swells up.”

She stopped and put a hand to her cheek as she turned back to him. “Is it that bad?” It hurt, but the back of the guy’s skull had hit her cheekbone, so no big surprise. Her eye socket didn’t feel swollen though, and the bump on her head didn’t hurt much at all anymore.

His blue eyes dropped to her where her fingers covered the spot. “I’d say it’s gonna leave a mark,” he said with a matter-of-fact shrug.

She turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll just take some ibuprofen.” She opened the cupboard next to the sink and took out a tablet, downed it with some water and wondered what the hell to do next. Normally she was just fine on her own, but with everything that had happened tonight, his offer to stay had filled her with relief at the thought of having someone here with her.

But maybe this wasn’t a good idea. If she couldn’t have him, then the best thing for her right now was some distance from him. She opened the dishwasher. “It’s late and I’m sure after your training you’re even more tired than I am. You can take my room, I just changed the sheets on the bed this morning in case you guys decided to crash here.”

“I’m not taking your bed.” He hadn’t moved from his position in the living room.

She rolled her eyes at his adamant tone and put the glass in the dishwasher, avoiding looking at him. “You’re six-four. You take the king-size bed, I’ll be fine in the guest room.”

“I’m fine on the couch.” His words had that ring of finality she was becoming all too familiar with. But if he expected her to give in just by being bossy, he was going to be disappointed.

“Clay. Stop. You’re taking my room.” She strode down the short hallway to what served as the master bedroom and turned on the light as his footsteps approached behind her. “We have to share the bathroom though. It’s just across the hall from the guest room.” She sounded so damn lame. And this wasn’t at all how she’d envisioned a night alone with him would go.

Before she could turn around a big hand planted itself on the doorframe next to her head. She swiveled her head to look up into his face—not something she was used to doing at five-foot-ten—and found him close, so close she could see the dark blue ring around his irises.

The breath halted in her throat as his scent teased her, a clean, citrusy scent you had to be near him to notice. His body heat reached out to her, warming her spine, making her aware on a cellular level of just how big and powerful he was. Of all that strength at her back, all that raw sexuality seething just beneath his cool exterior.

He stared at her for a long moment before glancing over at the king-size four-poster, done up in a red velvet coverlet with black mosquito netting hanging from the canopy. A wave of desire slammed into her as images popped into her head of what he’d do to her in her sumptuous bed with those hands, that long, hard body.

“I can’t take your—”

She reached up to lay her fingertips against his lips, tried to ignore the little shockwave that sizzled up her arm, or the need to slide her thumb across his lower lip, savor the only soft spot in that hard face. “Stop. I told you what I want, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” The second she said it she realized what an epic Freudian slip it was. Her subconscious knew exactly how badly she wanted him and wasn’t about to let her forget.

Something dark and intense kindled in his eyes. His hand came away from the doorframe, reached up to slowly wrap around her wrist. The feel of those strong fingers twining around that fragile part of her sent a shiver of longing through her. She knew he’d be unlike any lover she’d ever had. Authoritative, forceful even. The thought of those strong hands holding her wrists above her head as he pinned her to the bed nearly weakened her knees.

Her pulse spiked at the unmistakable heat she saw in his eyes but she forced herself to pull her hand free and look away. “If the air-conditioning’s too cold there are quilts in the trunk over there,” she told him, trying to ignore how breathless she sounded as she walked to the wooden blanket chest she’d placed at the foot of the bed and tapped it.

In her peripheral vision she could see Clay shift his stance to lean one muscled shoulder against the jamb as he watched her. “We could share.”

She stilled and looked over at him. “Not into torture, thanks.”

He blinked at her. “Sleeping with me would be torture?”

His teasing tone warmed her but she wasn’t letting him make light of this. “You told me no once already. So I’m respecting that and the only way to continue to do so is for me to sleep in a different room. I don’t play games and I know you hate them too.”

He sobered and inclined his head in acknowledgement, but that cynical expression was back in his eyes. The one that said
come on, all women play games
. The one she wanted to wipe from his face forever by making him realize once and for all that she was nothing like his ex, or anyone else he’d been with. “So what did Tuck say to you?” he asked.

“Pretty sure you can figure it out.”

He stood there, unmoving, and studied her for a long moment. “He’s right.”

She turned to face him fully, curious. “About what?”

“That I’m no good for you.”

“You don’t think so either?”

A muscle flexed in his square jaw. “No.”

“Well then, disaster averted. We’ll just forget the rest and go back to the way things were between us before you got here.” Though she had no idea how in hell she was going to do that. She had strong feelings for him and if he didn’t reciprocate them, then it was best that she pull back now.

He didn’t answer, kept staring at her for such a long time that she had to fight the urge to fidget. When he spoke at last his voice was pitched lower than normal. “Can you forget the rest?”

“Can you?” she countered, arching a brow.

“No,” he finally admitted, and for a second she was sure she hadn’t heard him right. “And trust me, if you were anyone but Tuck’s cousin, I’d….”

You’d what?
she wanted to shout, dying to know.
Walk across this floor, grab me and kiss me until I can’t breathe? Rip my clothes off and take me right now on my bed?

He shook his head, the movement tight, his posture rigid. “You should listen to Tuck. I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

She folded her arms. “Because you’re so sure you would have hurt me?”

He straightened and looked away. “I wouldn’t mean to, but…I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his buzzed hair, the move making his biceps and triceps flex in a way that made her mouth go dry.

Then it hit her. It wasn’t just women he didn’t trust. He no longer trusted
himself
when it came to judging someone’s character. And that damn near broke her heart. Though she was still shocked that he’d opened up this much. Pushing for answers now might risk him shutting down again but she had a feeling that if she didn’t ask now, she’d never get the chance again. “I need to ask you something really personal.”

His eyes shot to hers and he straightened even more, as if he was getting ready to take a blow. “Okay.”

She licked her lips, considered her words. But really, was there any way of putting this delicately? “I know something bad happened at the end with your ex, but Tuck’s never told me.”

Clay looked away again, stared out the window overlooking the street as he gave a thoughtful nod. At least he wasn’t leaving. “You want to know what it was.” His tone was flat, almost lifeless. He was already disengaging, pulling back from her when she wanted the exact opposite.

She forced herself to hold her ground rather than let it go, because this was too important. Whatever had happened, it was the crux of why he was so jaded now. “I do.”

He took a deep inhalation, released it slowly, and when his gaze came back to her she saw both pain and defiance there. He was ready for her to judge him for whatever he was about to say. Expecting it, even. “I was charged with domestic assault and thrown in jail.”

Though she’d vowed to keep her expression impassive, she felt her eyes widen at the admission, made so matter-of-factly. “You were?” She just couldn’t picture him harming a woman.

He nodded, his jaw flexing once. “We were fighting. I lost my temper, grabbed her hard enough to leave marks. That was all she needed to have me arrested.”

Zoe studied him for a long moment. Something didn’t ring true there. He was leaving something important out, and she had a feeling she knew what it was. “Did she assault you first?”

Another terse nod.

“And they arrested her too, right?”

“Yes.”

Zoe stared back at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t say anything else. Clay was one of the most controlled people she’d ever met. Right up there with Tuck, whom she measured every other man against. She tried to imagine what Eve could have done to make someone as remote as Clay lose his cool enough to react physically without thinking. Everything she came up with was ugly. There was no way he’d lost control without serious provocation first. Not someone with his elite military background and training.

“So she provoked the incident and pushed you until you broke.” No easy feat, she was sure.

His lips curved in a cynical smile that hurt her heart. “Doesn’t matter what she did, I’m still the one who marked her and got locked up for it. If not for Tuck and our CO, my career would have been over then and there.”

True. “Well, I’m glad they were there to defend you and stop that from happening.”

The fierce way she said it seemed to take him off guard. His bitter smile vanished and a slight frown appeared between his dark eyebrows. “I shouldn’t have touched her like that,” he said, as if Zoe didn’t understand his part in the incident.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed, not about to absolve him of his share of the blame, “but that instance doesn’t automatically mean you’re dangerous to all women. I’ve handled enough domestic abuse cases in my time to know the difference.” She also knew Clay well enough to realize that whatever had precipitated the event, Eve had likely manipulated it carefully. Tuck had told her many times what sort of a person Eve was. Thank god Clay had finally ended the marriage.

He didn’t look away. “I’m dangerous to you.”

The quietly spoken words sent a shiver through her, the sexual undercurrent in them unmistakable. “I already told you, I like dark. And you don’t scare me one bit.”