The Right To Remain Mine (13 page)

        He'd made her adulterous, damn it.

        If she'd only known he was involved with someone else, she never would've—

        Oh, who was she kidding? Nothing could've stopped her that night. She'd wanted Malloy, and he could've been married for all it mattered. She would've taken him anyway.

        Swallowing at that troubling realization, she glanced toward Kathie, who was currently praising Camille for her slim ankles that weren't even swollen.

        "Oh, they are a little," Camille corrected.

        Kathie gave her a look. "Well, if that's swollen, my dear, then you have nothing to worry about."

        Malloy took Kathie's elbow. "Crowd's thinning down."

        Kathie rolled her eyes his way only to turn back to Camille and grasp her hand. "You take care of that precious baby, Camille. It was nice to meet you."

        "You too," Camille told her.

        Dylan smiled approvingly and nodded at Kathie.

        And then Kathie turned to say goodbye to Willow.

        "Thank you," Willow murmured to Malloy's date. "She needed that." But even as she spoke her gratitude, she lifted her eyes to the woman's man. "Malloy," she said coolly.

        He met her gaze, but didn't respond otherwise. He merely turned and led Kathie Becker away.

~ * ~

        As they finally headed toward the exit, Raith heard Taggart's wife repeat, "Malloy?" in shock as if she recognized the name.

        He gave a smug grin. Either Taggart or DeVane had been talking to the preggo about him and his night with Willow. God, what a night that had been. It had been a week and he still shuddered with arousal when he thought about it.

        He'd been dazed since then, wondering if he would ever experience that kind of sex again, that kind of woman again. Seeing her this soon, being close enough to smell her, to reach out and touch her, drove him mad.

        He returned Kathie home, semi-aroused with Willow's face floating through his mind. And after he dropped his sister off, he couldn't help it, he passed by DeVane's place on his way home, just a routine drive-by to make sure everything looked okay.

        But when he arrived, a light glaring from her kitchen window told him she had yet to go to bed.

        Unable to control his irritating need to see her just one more time, he pulled alongside the curb and killed the engine. He called himself ten kinds of stupid for crawling back to her. She would probably kick him out on his ass, but it was almost worth the risk. Just thinking about sliding inside her one more time had him so hard, he picked up his pace, almost jogging to her back door.

        He knocked; a voice inside called, "It's open."

        Raith rolled his eyes. Did the woman ever practice personal safety? He was going to teach her to keep her doors locked if it was the last thing he did.

        He knocked again.

        There was a pause before her voice drew closer as she grumbled, "I said it was ope—"

        She yanked the door inward, and there she appeared, so damn beautiful his heart stopped for a full second.

        "Malloy," she breathed, her voice going from irritated to winded in a nanosecond.

        He arched a brow. "I thought I told you to keep this door locked."

        Her shock immediately transformed into annoyance. Lifting an

eyebrow, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, your date certainly ended short."

        "It wasn't a date," he said, glancing pointedly over her shoulder and into the kitchen, letting her know he wanted to be let in. "I was roped into taking my sister to that crappy show for her birthday."

        "Your sister?" DeVane's eyebrows winged up before she shrugged as if it made no difference to her. "She was your sister? Hmm. She seemed nice."

        Raith's gaze slid back to hers. "She is nice." He narrowed his eyes, wondering if maybe she'd been jealous. But he could find nothing in her frosty expression. Damn, she was just as good at hiding her thoughts as he was.

        Willow lifted her face to boldly meet his gaze. "And it wasn't a crappy show."

        "Was too," he shot back before he swiftly leaned in through the opened doorway to kiss her.

        She gasped against his mouth moments before her hands reached out and buried themselves in his hair.

        It wasn't a light, tender kiss but strong in depth and passion. Man, he loved kissing her.

        "You going to let me inside?" he asked against her mouth. "Or do I have to take you here in the doorway?"

        His crude question caused her to push against his chest. Raith tightened his hold for a second before he regretfully let go.

        She glared. "Don't you think it's a little presumptuous of you to come here tonight, expecting me to want to play?"

        Hell, yes, it had been presumptuous and dangerous for his wellbeing as well as absolutely stupid. But all he said was, "If you don't want it then tell me no."

        It was an outright challenge. He knew she wanted him, knew she was going to let him in. He could tell by her breathing.

        But he should've known Willow wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

        "No," she said staring him straight in the eye.

        Shit.

        For a second, he didn't move, not one muscle. He hid his surprise and disappointment. But an achy want oozed off him in waves, and he could tell by the satisfied smirk on her face that she knew he was dying.

        Ignoring the twinge he felt, he cocked his shoulder in a careless shrug. "Fine," he murmured and abruptly turned away.

        He got five steps before she crumbled.

        "Hey, Malloy," she called after him.

        Slowly he stopped and turned back. The light coming from the kitchen behind her lit up her body, providing a taunting silhouette that made his mouth water. If she said one thing to tease him, he was going down, straight to his knees, and he was going to beg like a little street urchin.

        He wanted her that bad.

        But thank God and all the saints, she merely stepped aside and let the door fall open another foot in blatant invitation.

        Raith paused, briefly uncertain. He didn't care for the emotions surging through him. It was like he had to have Willow DeVane or die. He didn't need that kind of dependency in his life. He just needed to stay away before he became well and truly addicted.

        But, hell, she looked so good. His body took the first step for him. He took the second himself. And the third, and fourth and fifth. Willow backed further into the room as he entered. She stared with an expression that said she already regretted her decision. When he reached back to close the door and lock it, she jumped at the click of sound as he sealed their fates.

        Then he started toward her. But with every stride he prowled forward, she countered, skittering one backward. Still, his steps were longer and he advanced until they were only inches apart. He watched her swallow nervously.

        "Why do you look so scared?"

        "Why do you look so predatory?" she shot back.

        He smiled wolfishly, only emphasizing her point. "Because I feel predatory."

        She frowned. "I hope you don't expect me to act the helpless prey?"

        "Helpless?" He laughed. "I couldn't even begin to picture you helpless."

        Her nod showed approval. "Good answer, Malloy. You must be looking to get lucky."

        "Not looking." He reached out and curved his large palm around the back of her head, drawing her closer. "I've already found." Everything he'd ever wanted in a woman.

        He kissed her. She made a sound against his mouth, startled yet hungry. It went straight to his loins. He needed her fast and hot and now. Growling in primal urgency, he grabbed two handfuls of her butt and picked her up. Her legs automatically wound around his hips. Raith continued to kiss her as he carried her all the way to her room, where he let her fall back on her bed and crawled over her.

        "I want my mouth on you." He kissed her again as he worked to undo the buttons on her shirt.

        "You won't hear any complaints from me," Willow rasped.

        And he didn't.

        Another week passed. Raith continued to daydream about DeVane. In fact, that's exactly what he was doing as he left the county attorney's office at the courthouse after discussing a case with Rodney Hale, an assistant county attorney who acted as the juvenile prosecutor.

        Hale had agreed to meet Raith to discuss filing a charge against three teens he'd caught a few months before, smoking pot behind the high school.

        "Shit head," he muttered, shoving his way from the office and putting a little extra force into the door as he pushed it open, venting his rage as best he could.

        From the way Hale acted, the teenagers' offence was no big deal. He dragged his feet on the case, driving Raith insane. Situations like this made him wonder why he even bothered. He worked his butt off, trying to make the world a better place for people who actually obeyed the laws. Yet his efforts didn't mean squat when the damn lawyer refused to do anything about it.

        He wished someone would just scare the crap out of those boys with a hefty sentence and make them straighten their act. He wished Willow's brother handled juvenile cases, because Chase's co-assistant county attorney, Hale, would let the defense plead their case down until they would barely get a slap on the hand, if he even bothered to file a charge against them. The next night, they'd be out on the streets, breaking the law all over again. Raith would be dealing with them their entire lives, arresting them for stupid, petty crimes.

        It was sad and depressing.

        He'd done his part, catching them and taking them to juvie jail. It would be nice if someone would pick up where his job left off and continue the punishment. But that someone definitely wasn't going to be Rodney Hale.

        Still upset with the man's blasé behavior, Raith jogged down the stairs to get to the exit as fast as he could before he talked himself into turning right back around and retuning to Hale so he could tell the louse exactly what he thought of him

        Once he made it to the ground level however, he caught sight of a few of his co-workers gathered together. The tallest of the group, a slim blond with a goatee, whose name was Greggor, stood between two shorter men in uniform.

        Greggor was the regular court security officer and could always be found somewhere, roaming the building. The shortest of the trio, Lewis, was a little overweight and possessed a baby-face, making him look like he wasn't a day over fifteen. He held the process server position and had probably stopped by the courthouse to pick up an assortment of legal documents—like subpoenas, divorce papers, eviction notices, and restraining orders—to serve to citizens. Hinton, who was actually the youngest, stood dressed in his formal duds, which told Raith he was here to testify in some court case. As Raith changed directions to greet them, they paused their discussion to welcome him.

        "Hey, Malloy," Greggor said, stepping aside to let him join the circle. "You heard about Wilmer yet?"

        Raith slowed to a stop and frowned. "No." Dean Wilmer was a road deputy and had recently confessed to him how badly he was getting burned out. Instantly concerned, he asked, "What happened?"

        "He quit. Just walked in, turned in his shit, and said he couldn't do it anymore."

        "Christ," Raith muttered. A shiver of fear rippled up the back of his neck. At times, he grew tired of it all. There were definitely more pitfalls than there were benefits in his line of work. But he hoped to God it never bothered him to the point he'd up and quit. Law enforcement was his life. It was in his blood. He didn't know what he'd do with himself if he wasn't a cop.

        "We're already down a deputy from when Thomson transferred to Marion County," Hinton was saying. "Now with Wilmer gone, we'll really be working our asses off." He cursed under his breath and added, "I'm never going to see my wife and kids again."

        Raith wasn't so worried about that aspect. He was always willing to work extra hours and make some overtime. Then again, he didn't have anyone to go home to each night like most of his buddies. At that depressing realization, one face popped into his mind. He wasn't sure why he immediately pictured her when he thought about having someone to go home to. Two nights in the sack did not a relationship make. So why was he—

        "God, she is one fine woman."

        At Lewis's proclamation, Raith glanced over. He should've known whom he'd see, but the sight of DeVane coming through the front door, only thirty feet away, still managed to steal his breath.

        She was stunning. The bright sunny day filtered in through the opened door behind her, making her silhouette glow, giving her an unearthly radiance. It highlighted every dip and curve of her voluptuous body. And the way she walked with that slight sway to the hips only made her feminine features pop even more.

        When Raith realized he'd stopped breathing, he discreetly sucked in some air and glanced at his companions, hoping they hadn't caught him gawking. But when he found all three of his friends drooling themselves, all openly ogling her, he rolled his eyes. Pathetic.

        "What I wouldn't give to get my hands on a piece of work like that," Hinton murmured, the dreamy look in his eyes making Raith shake his head in amusement. He wasn't at all surprised by the effect DeVane had on his buddies.

        Greggor laughed and heartily slapped Hinton on the back. "Dream on, pal. You couldn't get a broad like her if you kidnapped her."