Nora Roberts Land (35 page)

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Authors: Ava Miles

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #small town

BOOK: Nora Roberts Land
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He yanked her to him. When he ravaged her mouth, she opened to him. Anger and anxiety traveled across his lips. She gave back comfort and calm.

His mouth left hers and fitted against her neck. “Oh, God, Meredith.”

She held him as the fight left him. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Love overwhelmed her. Seeing him like this hurt her heart. She brought his face down to hers, their eyes locked together. She kissed him lightly on the corners of his mouth before tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue. His eyes didn’t close. Neither did hers. He opened his mouth and tangled his tongue with hers. Long, slow strokes to match the rhythm of her hands running up and down his corded back.

When she broke the kiss, he cupped her face. “I need you,” he said in a guttural voice.

She took his hand and led him upstairs, knowing what it cost him to say it. When she closed the door, she lifted his shirt and tossed it aside. Tracing his chest, she nudged him back to the bed.

“Let me take care of you.”

She undressed while he watched, his chocolate eyes burning black now. Kneeling at his feet, she reached for his belt. Together they took off his pants and boxers. She ran her hands down his calves and pulled off his socks, the soles of his feet warm to her touch.

Tracing her way up his legs, she met his gaze and kissed his arousal. His body jerked in response. When she took him in her mouth, he groaned and threaded his hands in her hair, letting her pleasure him.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he growled finally and tugged her up. “I want to come inside you.”

He pressed his open mouth to her neck and bit gently. She fell on top of him, and he pulled her up higher so that his lips caressed her breast. He sucked softly and then with increasing pressure. Her toes curled as he shifted to the other breast. She cried out with pleasure.

He adjusted her legs so that she was straddling him. His hand slid down and pressed against her core. Her spine arched when he slipped his finger inside her.

Her hands tangled with his. “Come into me,” she whispered.

When he reached for the condom, she rolled it down his hard length. Pulling her hips forward, he let her take him into her slowly. He kept his gaze on her as he pressed into her core. His neck muscles clenched with control as she moved, her hands on his chest. He held her at the waist, his fingers digging in as she increased her speed, her hips rising and falling.

She drew out their passion. His hips lurched, communicating his need. When he pressed his thumb where their bodies joined and rubbed, she threw her head back and cried out. The climax washed over her like a thundering waterfall, taking her down into new depths. He froze underneath her, enhancing her pleasure.

When she curled forward, he flipped her onto her back. “My turn.”

His thrusts drove her back to the headboard, making her hold on. His hands gripped hers on the frame as he surged into her hard. Her body revved up again, every tissue sensitized. As he plunged deeper, she locked her legs around him. When she exploded again, he thrust madly and came with a shout.

She surfaced, realizing they were still holding hands on the headboard. The sight made her heart shimmer like sunlight on a river. Love shot through her, and she turned and kissed his head.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m squishing you.”

“No, it’s fine.” She unlocked her shaking legs from his waist.

He kissed her cheek and then pulled back to stare into her eyes, looking at her with emotion so raw it closed her throat. When he settled his mouth to hers in a light brush, she smoothed back a lock of hair from his sweaty forehead.

“Be right back.” He eased off her and walked to the bathroom.

She heard his phone vibrate while he was gone. Worried it might be Peggy, she dashed over to his pants and pulled it from the pocket. When she read the display, everything went dark for a moment. She saw stars. Shook her head. Blinked. Narrowed her eyes.

It couldn’t be.

Why was Richard’s number on Tanner’s display? Why was he texting him?

She heard a flush from the bathroom. Her heart pounded hard against her tight ribs. She hit the display and gasped.

How was Thanksgiving at the Hale homestead? I want an update.

Her brain turned into scrambled eggs. She fell to her knees, naked, gripping her thighs.

Tanner walked back in and froze. “Did Peg call?” He darted across the room and grabbed the phone clutched in her hand.

“Did she?”

She couldn’t answer.

He stilled when he looked at the display.

She uncurled from the floor like she had arthritis. She staggered once before straightening.

“Meredith,” Tanner said urgently.

The newfound Meredith found the courage to stand before him. “Why is my ex texting you?”

But she knew. Fear and hurt descended like fog, crippling her sight. Oh, God.

“I can explain,” he said in a tight voice.

“You’re working for him, aren’t you?” She shivered. How had it gotten so cold in here? She reached for her clothes and began pulling them on, suddenly excruciatingly aware of her nakedness.

“Yes. I was going to tell you, but then the thing happened with Peg.”

She stared at him, her heart thundering, waiting for an explanation.

“The thing with Peg,” he repeated. His face flinched.

He turned away, clutching the phone. The silence was deafening. He finally spun around. Planted his feet. His throat rippled like a snake, and his breath shuddered out.

“Richard found out what you were doing. He sent me here to stop you from doing the article about Nora what’s her name. He wasn’t sure what else you were going to write about him, but he wasn’t about to let you ruin his political chances.”

She gasped. “It’s not true.” The crown of her head tightened like an approaching migraine.

“It is.” The scar around his mouth twisted. “My job was to make you fall for me and then dump you so you’d have nothing to write.”

His words beat into her like a hammer striking bone. Questions pinged around in her splitting head. How could Richard have found out? And how could Tanner be working for him?

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Her voice broke. She gripped her hands, willing herself not to cry. She was sick to death of crying in front of the men she loved.

He turned away, looking across the room. “Richard wanted to make you stop, suffer. I was the tool.”

Her heart bled, fresh and hot, from this new wound. She believed that. Easily. No amount of suffering would please Richard, especially since she had the means to destroy him. He was a predator. He always struck last, and he always killed his prey. How had she forgotten that?

But Tanner wasn’t Richard. He was a good man. She’d seen it.

But you thought that about Richard too, a dark voice inside her said.

She grabbed a sheet to cover herself. “But why you? I believe what you’ve said about Richard, but how could you do this? To me.”

His face contorted. He walked stiffly to the closet and pulled out a robe. “It was the condition for my dream job. After being overseas in stinking villages for the past few years, I was willing to do anything.”

Hope retreated. Her guts burned with pain like someone had driven a stake into them. That sounded like Richard. Staring at his clenched back, she shook her head.

“I don’t believe it!”

He cinched the robe like a garrote and stalked over to her, punching his phone with hard taps. “I’ve sent updates.” Pushing the phone into her face, she saw the photo of them by the fire.

The yawning pain grew inside her. The picture filled her vision like her tears. They looked so happy. She clenched her eyes shut and pressed her hands to her chest, searching for confidence.

It wasn’t there.

“It’s not possible.”

“It is.” He grabbed her arms with enough force to make her eyes pop and jerked her to her feet. “I told you. You don’t know me! You made me into something I wasn’t.”

“No!”

“You were attracted to me. I used that and played on your vulnerabilities.”

“Bullshit,” she said, to him as much as to herself.

He punched his chest. “This is what I am! A cold-blooded journalist who’ll do whatever it takes to snag a fabulous job.” He stalked over to the window.

His thundering voice raised the hairs on her arms. She crossed them to keep from falling apart. “I know you care about me,” she cried, rising and walking over to him.

His mouth curled when he looked back. “Why do you think I kept pursuing you? No guy would put up with the kind of rejection you dished out.”

Her earlier doubts about why he hadn’t given up rose like rotted wood. She curled over in pain. He made a move toward her but stopped himself. The ticking in his jaw gave her the courage for one last try. She straightened and cupped his face with shaking hands, his stubble making her skin feel raw.

“This isn’t you, Tanner. I know it isn’t.”

He shoved her hands away. “Yes, it is.” He stalked over to the door. Threw it open. It vibrated on its hinges. “Since I’ve done my job and killed your story, there’s no reason for you to get in my way about this Ray thing. I’m out of here after I nail the bad guys, write up the story, and finish classes. Our paths don’t have to cross again.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“It wasn’t personal.”

The echoes of past pain awoke in her body like ghosts. She couldn’t have been deceived like this again. She was stronger now. She was Divorcée Woman. “Why are you saying this?”

“Why won’t you believe me? Listen! I don’t know what you have on your ex, but you had to be stopped. I was the perfect man to do it. I was new to his paper, you and I had things like Columbia and swimming in common, and you didn’t know me. Do you want me to get my file on you? You love dark chocolate.”

“Stop it.” She made a fist, wanting to slug him.

“Your favorite color is—”

“Shut up!” She put her hands over her ears.

“Do you need more proof?” He flicked his hand to the door. “You should get out. We’re done here.”

The slap of his voice made her put one foot in front of the other. At the doorway, she turned to him one last time. His eyes looked like obsidian. How had she ever compared them to melted chocolate? His sneer snapped her control.

“You son of a bitch!” His chest was as solid as concrete when she shoved her hands against it. “I fell in love with you.”

She charged out of the bedroom and ran down the stairs to the front door. After fumbling to start her car, she started crying as Hugo raced after her, his barks punctuating the silence of the driveway. The left section of her chest felt like someone had cut her open and drew out her insides.

Coming back here had changed nothing. All it had done was give her another broken heart.

But the old Meredith couldn’t have faced him down and asked him why,
Divorcée Woman finally said.

Meredith pressed her lips together to keep herself from screaming at her alter ego like some crazy person. Divorcée Woman had let her down.

Worse, she’d let herself down—again.

She yanked up her red shirt to tear off her bustier, only to realize she’d forgotten to put it back on. Tanner could take that memento and shove it up his lying ass.

Wearing La Perla hadn’t changed anything either. The whole idea of Divorcée Woman seemed so stupid now. She’d been crazy to have conversations with her alter ego.

Had she been so desperate for confidence after the divorce that she’d lost her mind?

With that thought came a more menacing realization, one she knew would keep her awake at night.

How could she have thought he was different?

***

Tanner gripped the door to keep from following Meredith. His stomach seized. He ran to the bathroom and vomited. Spent, he laid his head on the floor. He hadn’t gotten sick for a while. Not since the massacre in that village in Swat Valley.

Oh, God, what had he done?

He pushed himself upright and wiped his face with a towel. Studied himself in the mirror. He threw the cloth at his reflection and stalked out.

He had done what he needed to do. If this horrible scene had saved her life, it was worth it.

When she’d asked him about Sommerville’s text, he’d braced himself to tell her the truth, ready to make things right. But then he’d thought about Peg, and something inside of him had clicked. He’d realized how easy it would be to use the story of his association with Sommerville to make her walk away.

Meredith wasn’t the type to give up without thinking that all was lost.

He wouldn’t risk her life. He’d protect her at all costs.

The sacrifice burned his skin like a funeral pyre. He’d done difficult things before, but right now, reporting on Bosnian war crimes seemed like a piece of cake compared to lying to the woman he loved. Nobility was overrated, and it hurt like hell.

He could explain his real motivations to her later. He wasn’t sure she’d forgive him for the things he’d said, but when this was safely behind them, he’d ask her to just the same. Have Peg talk to her if need be. The faster he pulled the evidence together and got Kenny and Barlow in jail, the faster he could resolve things with Meredith.

He wove in place, his throat burning with bile.

When he walked out of the bathroom, he saw her black bustier lying on the floor. The symbol of her newfound confidence seemed flimsy now. He traced the initials DW. Christ, he’d needed to hit her with words like a sledge hammer to make her walk away.

He prayed it would be enough.

His gamble to keep her safe needed to pay off.

Then he was going to find a way to undo what he’d done.

Convincing her he really loved her might be the toughest assignment he’d ever had.

Chapter 45

A
bba’s seductive melody had never sounded more welcoming to Meredith as she opened the door to Jill’s house. Her tears picked up, and her numb fingers dropped her purse.

“Mere? Is that you?” Jill called. “I wasn’t expecting you back until morning.”

She traced the wall to stay upright as she staggered into the family room. Sandalwood incense trailed toward the ceiling like a slithering coil. Jill snapped her book shut and jumped up.

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