Surrender the Dark (13 page)

“I’ll do my best.”

Planting her fists in the middle of the table, she lunged at him, eyes suddenly blazing. “Your best isn’t good enough, McCullough. I want your word. I won’t be responsible for any unnecessary pain or suffering—human or animal. You got that?”

He looked at her, her passion and concern so vibrant, it was like a living, breathing entity in the space between them. What would going back into the dark do to that part of her?

“You have my word.”

Without so much as a nod, Rae straightened and picked up her mug. She walked to the sink and dumped her coffee, then turned back to face him.

“My office is upstairs,” she said, glancing at the clock over the stove. “If you don’t think it’s too early, why don’t we send that transmission.”

Jarrett simply downed his remaining coffee and stood. Using his cane, he moved to the sink, both relieved and disappointed when Rae stepped out of his way and walked to the door. He rinsed his mug, then walked toward her. “Lead the way.”

She headed down the hallway to a door opposite the laundry room.

She was wearing old sweatpants and an oversize sweatshirt that revealed none of the slight curves he now knew she had. Her hair was damp and combed back off her face, she wore no makeup, her only scent was that of her shampoo. And she had his complete and total attention.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t ignore his body’s reaction to her.

He tried to focus on the information they were about to send. Instead, all he could think about as they passed the bedroom was how easy it would be to catch up with her, wrap his hands around her slim hips, pull her back against him, and take a detour for, say, three or four hours.

Rae opened the narrow door and revealed a steep set of bare wooden stairs that wound up into bright light. Jarrett moved in behind her, tightening his grip on his cane and his control. His nearness prevented her from turning without pushing right up against him, thereby hiding his now very visible reaction to her. He’d be lying if he said he was glad she moved up the stairs instead.

He figured he had about ten seconds to get himself under control. Either that or he had to distract her. Lord knew she distracted him.

“Is the entire upper floor your office?” he asked, taking the stairs slowly to favor his thigh and his still flagging strength. He tore his gaze from her tight backside peeking out from underneath her sweatshirt and took the next step even slower.

“No,” she answered without turning. “The space is really meant for storage. The angle of the ceiling makes it sort of useless for anything else. But I needed a place to keep track of business and I didn’t want to cram it into a corner of the shop.” She stepped onto the landing and waited for him to ascend the last several stairs.

Jarrett had to duck his head to enter the long narrow
room, since the door was set into the steeply angled wall of the A-frame. Busy watching the space over his head, he didn’t see the sharp corner of the desk just inside the door. The sharp corner hit him right in the thigh.

Rae yelled, “Jarrett, watch out!” at the same instant as the corner dug directly into his freshly bandaged wound. Swearing, he clutched at his thigh. He lost his balance and fell just as Rae was moving to brace his weight away from the desk.

They landed in a tangled heap on the woven rug covering the floor.

Gritting his teeth against the daggers of pain shooting up his leg, Jarrett braced his weight on his strong side, trying to lift himself off Rae. He sucked in a breath as he tugged his leg to the side. His bruised ribs and shoulder also protested loudly.

“Be careful,” Rae cautioned needlessly. “Hold still and let me slide out from under you.”

A groan that had nothing to do with the pain he was in slipped past his lips. He looked down at her. “I guess I just can’t help falling for you,” he said before he thought better of it. Before he thought at all.

Rae actually felt her jaw drop as she stared at him in shock.

The tiny twinkle bravely emerging from his gray eyes died swiftly at her reaction. But instead of the cold, aloof mask she expected, his expression turned wary, sort of defensive. He was
embarrassed
!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked gruffly.

“You made a joke,” she replied. And you’re embarrassed by it, she added to herself. If she hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of her, she’d have laughed. His acute discomfort should have been hilarious, but that didn’t explain the poignant little tug near her heart.

“I plow you down twice in two days, make some smart-ass remark, and you act like I just grew a third eye.”

She curled her fingers against the sudden unaccountable need to reach up and smooth the deep grooves
etched on either end of his tightly compressed mouth. “I looked at you like that because you knocked me down twice and then said something human. Something funny.”

Amid the denial and derision battling for control of his expression, Rae didn’t miss the flicker of confusion.
It’s okay
, she wanted to tell him.

But of course, she couldn’t, because it wasn’t okay. Not for him. He couldn’t allow himself to be human. Not if he wanted to continue succeeding in the superhuman role he’d created for himself.

She stiffened as, from the corner of her eye, she saw him lift a hand toward her face. He must have noticed, because his hand froze an inch or two away. She found herself slowly drawn into his solemn gaze, captured as surely as if he’d held her chin in his grasp.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he whispered roughly.

Rae knew a moment of pure panic. There was danger here. Not all of her instincts had dulled. The ones she had left were clamoring for her to pull away, to stand up, to get back to business. Something hot and promising lit the depths of his eyes. Underneath those icy shards was smoke.

And where there’s smoke …

“What?” she heard herself ask, helplessly drawn down the path to her own destruction and not at all certain she cared. “What am I wrong about?”

He let his hand close the distance, and at the first touch of his rough, warm skin, she knew the answer.

“About me not being human,” he said in a voice so low, she found herself leaning closer to hear it. “I don’t
think I’ve ever been made to feel as painfully human in my life as I do around you.”

Hardly aware of the action, she pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand and rubbed. Once. Twice. The smoke swiftly disappeared, swallowed by the bottomless black centers of his eyes. She felt as if she’d been pulled right in after it, sucked in deep and held there, trapped in some swirling vortex from which nothing escaped.

His fingers curved, tightened. The blunt tips pressed into her skin, pushed past her ear, and slid into her still-damp hair. When he raked them across the base of her skull, she gasped, arching into his touch as a skin-tightening sensation prickled her neck and raced down her spine and arms until even her fingertips tingled.

Fingertips that instantly felt empty. She needed to feel him, to build on the sensations rocketing through her, to intensify them. The urge was so instinctive, she hardly realized she’d lifted her hand to his face until the spiky ends of his shadow beard scraped the pads of her fingers.

A sound, dark, deep, and guttural, broke through the rush of labored breathing. Hers, his, she didn’t care. Didn’t care because in that instant he tightened his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. Her craving for the almost narcotic effect of his touch was brought hard and fast to a level that was almost painful for the dark promises it made.

Rae lost herself in the now almost black depths of his eyes, the scent of him, the heat of him, the feel of him filling almost all of her sensate needs. All but one.

Taste.

Now she understood his need the day before, when he’d taken her fingers in his mouth. Only she wanted more, much more. She moved to take what she needed, but he was faster.

Just before his mouth closed over hers, she could have sworn she heard him whisper, “Catch me, Rae.”

She had no time to wonder or analyze. His mouth, lips, and tongue were too busy fulfilling each and every promise made by his eyes. He wasn’t gentle, but then, she didn’t expect or want him to be.

He pressed her back against the floor, his broad palms moving to either side of her face, holding her a willing captive as he plundered her mouth. He took and took, and she gave without restraint. He slanted his mouth and dove deeper with his tongue, as if trying to reach down and taste the very essence of her. The muscles in her belly and thighs tightened against the heat curling there.

Groaning softly, Jarrett left her lips and slowly moved his mouth over her chin, and down to the hollow at the base of her throat. Rae slid her hands from his shoulders up into the thick silk of his hair as she held him against her. He pulled at the collar of her sweatshirt with his teeth and, at the same time, slid one hand to her waist, excruciatingly avoiding contact with her breast.

Her body shifted under his, her hips twisting sinuously, aching to find sweet relief, pressing harder at the first touch of his warm hand on her bare skin. She struggled for control as he slid his hand upward.

Sweet God, please touch me
, was the only thought she was capable of forming. And then he did.

She arched violently against him, her hips pressing into his hard-muscled stomach. She whimpered as his roughened fingers made a slow, torturous discovery of one breast, teasing her nipple to a painful erection, before moving to the other and doing the same.

Then his hand was gone, and most of the weight of his body. Only when her eyes flew open in protest did she realize she’d closed them. She clutched his head. “No, please,” she begged hoarsely, without an ounce of shame.

“Shhh,” he said, then began to push up her sweat-shirt. “I want to taste you.” His voice was darker, deeper than she’d ever heard it. “I want to see you.”

His request coincided with the first brush of air against her skin. It might as well have been an arctic blast, for it had the same effect on her.

“Stop!”

Despite the incongruity of her demands, Jarrett stilled instantly. She shoved at him, but he didn’t budge an inch. He also made no move to lower her shirt.

“Why?” he asked, his gaze directed at the pale sliver of skin he’d exposed.

Rae’s emotions were a maelstrom. She wanted him, wanted his touch, wanted the pleasure and the potent release he would surely bring. Wanted him to the point of physical pain.

But her defenses were old and solid. Mindless as the passion that had flared between them seemed to be, she knew the power of it was real and profoundly deep. It
had to, for her to come this far so quickly. But it wasn’t powerful enough to break through this wall. She doubted anything, or anyone, would ever be that strong.

“Why, Rae?” he asked again. He pressed a kiss on the skin above her navel. It was reverent and gentle, but also hot and openmouthed. That one kiss said more about the man he was than anything she could have put into words.

“Because I—” She broke off, so affected by his touch, she faltered badly.

When the moment spun out and she didn’t go on, Jarrett looked up. The honest concern shadowing his face made her eyes burn with tears she fought to contain.

“What are you afraid of, Rae?” He shifted, pulling his body higher, purposely brushing his chest along hers, pressing the still-rock-hard need he had into her hip.

A tiny sound, both moan and whimper, escaped her before she could stop it. Neither could she stop her hips from shifting, seeking more than a fleeting press of the stiff length of him that would so perfectly satisfy the urgent demands her body was still making.

He cradled her head, forcing her to look at him. The ice was gone; his eyes were all smoke.

“Is it me?” His voice was hoarse. “I’m too rough.”

She saw guilt then. It tore at her worse than the concern. Her hands flew to his face. “No,” she said swiftly, forcefully. “I want your honesty. Your body’s honesty. I didn’t want you to hold back.”

“Then be honest with
me
, Rae.” He pushed her hair
from her damp forehead, the gentle motion at odds with the raw need underlying his demand. “And don’t give me a list of the reasons why this is wrong. We both know them all and we’re just as obviously incapable of listening to them.”

Honesty. Yes, she certainly owed him at least that. A part of her knew that there was probably no one on the face of the earth who could better deal with this than he. But there was also the tangled history between them, and a much larger part of her hated to put such a visual reminder of it between them, hated to force their past into their present.

She wasted a few seconds trying to convince herself that maybe this was a barrier better not crossed after all. That despite her needs and wants, it was better to back off now than to chance the irreparable damage she might do to the relationship they had managed to forge.

There was a message to transmit, though, lives on the line, a mission to complete. Followed by endless other missions that would take Jarrett away from her for good.

She knew that wherever this would take them, the only relationship she would ever have with him was going to be now, within these walls. And regardless of what they did or didn’t do, it would be over soon, no matter what.

Before she lost her nerve, she told him the truth. “I have scars,” she said, softly but clearly. “A lot of them.”

Rae had no idea what reaction she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the one she got. There was no pain, no
recrimination, no repulsion. Not even pity or understanding.

Far from it.

He was smiling. Broadly. Flashing a whole mouthful of beautiful straight white teeth she couldn’t remember ever fully seeing before. The smile so thoroughly altered his face, she was sure she wasn’t looking at the same man.

“Scars?” he asked, incredulous. “Rae, you’ve seen every inch of me.” He paused, the sudden glitter in his eyes making her squirm against him, the action totally instinctive. “I have more scar tissue than pure skin. How could you worry about something like that? Do my scars bother you?” His tone made it clear he knew they didn’t.