Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (7 page)

Her eyes stung with tears she refused to shed. At least, not now. Later, when she was back in her crappy apartment she could cry herself to sleep. And she knew in her knotted-up gut, she would do just that. Every time she’d visited her former home, she’d catch herself reminiscing, then later, dwelling. Later still, crying, regretting and questioning why. Why them? Why their daughter?

She drew in a shaky breath and swiped at a tear that managed to escape, then turned away from the door. After dealing with the Palmers’ murder-suicide today, then having to meet with their family, she didn’t think she could face Dante and the memories.

Maybe your ‘devil’s own sell’ is Sophia. Have you ever thought of that?

Alex’s words taunted her. She shouldn’t have come here tonight. Her baby girl was always on her mind, so was Dante. Although she didn’t consider herself a fragile person, that about summed up how she was feeling tonight. Fragile, vulnerable.

Lonely
.

Yeah, this was a mistake and she needed to go to the apartment. She started down the brick path. No good could come from being here. She’d likely end up arguing with Dante over something stupid, like why hadn’t he used the damned cayenne pepper spray.

“Going somewhere?”

She stopped a few feet from the driveway and let his soothing voice sweep her away to another time. “It’s late,” she said without turning. Dante was the sexiest man she’d ever met and had a way of making her melt with just the sound of his voice—which was why she tried to stick to texting.

For the past three weeks, she’d managed to avoid seeing and speaking to him. That last meeting had ended in a heated argument over her
obsession
with finding their daughter. But even then, when they’d been fighting, she’d wanted to throw herself into his strong arms. She’d wanted to know that there was one steady thing in this world she could depend on—Dante. He’d been her rock, her best friend and lover. Even when he’d been overseas with the SEALs and distance had separated them for months, she’d known in her gut and her heart that he’d come home to her, that he’d loved her.

“It’s never too late.”

To drop by and check out the vegetable garden, or for them?

Since she was already at his house, and she had a busy day scheduled for tomorrow, she might as well do what she came here to do. Besides, she’d missed seeing his face.

With her belly twisting both with nervous anticipation and apprehension, she turned and caught her breath. The light from the foyer framed Dante from behind. His shoulders looked broader, his hair and eyes darker. She loved the way he wore his hair longer now. Even though they’d argued the last time they’d seen each other, she still itched to run her fingers through his thick natural waves and curls.

“I brought a flashlight,” she said, holding it in the air and tried to ignore the way his t-shirt hugged his muscular chest and arms. “I’ll just meet you out back.”

He cocked a challenging brow. “God forbid if you come inside,” he said, and took a step backward into the foyer. “If you want to slink around to the backyard, knock yourself out.”

Although she knew he was baiting her, she let him hook her and took a few steps toward the door. Her heart ached to be back inside their home, to see her watercolors, the family photos she’d left behind, the walls she’d painstakingly ripped hideous wallpaper from, then subsequently spent hours sanding and painting. Their home was a part of her she couldn’t seem to let go and yet could no longer embrace. Their daughter had only been with them for ten months, but her spirit, her laughter and innocence had become embedded in the house. And until their child was returned to them, being here, being inside, remembering where the baby swing and Pack’n Play had once been in the living room, or the high chair in the kitchen—

She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t going to
slink
. I told you it was late. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you were doing.”

“I asked you to come over, so you’re not interrupting. You do what you need to do, though. If that means going or slinking, I’m good either way. But, you did drive out here. So…” he finished with a shrug.

Totally baiting her
. But she’d look at going into the house as a personal challenge. She was a homicide detective, damn it. She’d been in situations that would put the fear of God into most people, or give them nightmares to last a lifetime. She could walk through
her
home, go out the back door and check the damned, stupid vegetable garden, then be on her way. “It’s been a long day,” she said, and stepped onto the small porch. “Let’s make this quick.”

Dante gave her space to enter, but between his size and the small foyer, a confusing mixture of claustrophobia and longing had her rushing into the living room. Keeping her focus on the original hardwood floors she and Dante had personally sanded and refinished, she moved past the couch, the fireplace and beautiful mantel Dante had built and headed into the dining room. When she reached the kitchen, her heart rate slowed and her mouth instantly watered.

Lasagna
.

Dante made a killer lasagna. For whatever reason, just the scent of it was like an aphrodisiac for her.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder. The urge to eat up the distance and shove his t-shirt over his head and—

No. Don’t go there.
The last time they’d had sex was a little less than a year ago. She’d stopped by their house on a Sunday afternoon to pick up a few things stored in the basement. Dante had been shirtless and had just finished washing his car. When it came to his body, she had little control over her hormones. That afternoon, she’d given into temptation, into the need for sexual release and had wound up having sex with him on the living room couch.

Her cheeks grew warm as desire swirled through her body. They’d also had sex against the wall and then in the shower. Afterward, she’d been tempted to stay the night or come back the next day, but when she’d walked past their daughter’s closed bedroom door, the agony over what she’d lost had had her rushing from their house. That closed door had reminded her of what could never be. And she’d do well to continue to remind herself that she and Dante could no longer make things work between them. She loved Dante, but he was like a human memento. Seeing him, being near him, hearing his voice, brought a mixture of comfort and agony. He’d been the father of her child. He’d helped bring their daughter into the world. When she saw him, she saw her.

“I’m good, thanks,” she finally said, determined to look at the garden, then leave as quickly as possible.

He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a half-smile tilting his lips. “If you’re just coming over now, I’m assuming you haven’t eaten yet.”

She hadn’t. After they’d met with Leslie and Richard Palmer’s family, then with the medical examiner, she and Alex had spent hours writing their report. There’d been no time to eat, and she’d had no appetite.

“I had a salad earlier,” she lied, even as her stomach protested the need to taste—just one bite—Dante’s delicious lasagna.

“You should be eating more than salad. You’ve gotten too thin.” He moved his gaze over her body. “Or maybe the guys you’re dating like you skinny.”

She swiveled and fully faced him. “I’m not dating anyone.”
Was he? Did he want to?

Dante was a very sexual man. Like her, had he been celibate except for that hot Sunday afternoon when they’d rechristened several rooms in their house? Jealousy came at her in a rush, which was selfish on her part. She couldn’t expect Dante to maintain their marital vows when she’d been the one to walk away from their marriage.

“If this is your way of telling me you’re seeing someone or want to—” She suddenly remembered the new recruit he’d been training.
Lola
. She’d briefly met the petite, gorgeous young girl with perky boobs and exotic eyes when she’d stopped by CORE to drop off a belated baby shower gift for Rachel. “I thought Ian didn’t encourage interoffice dating.”

Frowning, he shoved off the wall. “What are you talking about?”

“
Lola
.” She should stop. Shut her mouth, go into the garden and leave. Who he dated was none of her business. Only they
were
still legally married, and in her mind, selfish or not, if he was dating, it
was
her business. “She’s a little young, don’t you think?”

“First, I’m not interested in Lola. Second, we’re only twelve years apart.”

“Right, so when she was in middle school, you were twenty-four.” She wrinkled her nose. “Has creeper written all over it when you think about it that way, huh?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Maybe.”

“Actually, you sound jealous.”

Damn it, she did. “I’m not,” she lied. “I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself.”

“A fool of myself,” he muttered, and walked to the back door. “I think anyone who knows our situation would probably think I was a fool for waiting on you. So what’s the difference? And I told you, I’m not interested in Lola.”

I was a fool for waiting on you…

Her jealousy morphed into guilt. For nearly six years she hadn’t lived up to her part in their marriage. For the past three years, she’d had the divorce papers sitting on top of her microwave waiting to be signed. Every time she’d think she was ready to sign them and officially end their marriage, she’d come up with an excuse to avoid the inevitable. And there’d been many excuses, but only one true reason. She was still in love with her husband.

When he opened the back door, she reached for him, but curled her hand into a fist and pulled away before making contact. She had to let him go and allow him to move on with his life. He might not be interested in Lola, and she might’ve given him a shot about his age, but he was still young. He could meet someone new, start a family…be happy without her dragging him down.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her guilt now turning to anger. She should have signed those divorce papers the moment she’d received them, instead of allowing them to hang over her head like a black cloud. And Dante should have opened his mouth and given her an ultimatum. Come home or finalize the divorce. “I’ll take care of the divorce papers when I get home tonight.”

Chuckling, he faced her, but there was no humor in his eyes, only disappointment. “Really? Why now?”

“If you’re not interested in Lola, I’m assuming there’s someone else.”

“Why would you assume that?”

“Because you brought up dating.”

“Because I wanted to know if
you
were dating, not because I wanted to.”

“So you’re not seeing someone?” she asked, and almost wished that was the case. Otherwise they could wind up in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the longest separation ever. Without prodding, those divorce papers would remain on top of her microwave collecting dust. Officially ending their marriage would devastate her. Dante might be a human memento, but he was her sole connection to their missing daughter. He was the only person who understood and shared her pain.

“No. Do you want to know why?”

“I’d rather drop the subject altogether.” She needed to go home and check Rachel’s program. Hell, she needed to be alone in her crappy apartment where she could distance herself from him and any thoughts of working at their marriage. They couldn’t go back to the way things were, and she didn’t know if she could ever move forward and be the wife Dante deserved. Not when every chance she had she was searching for their daughter.

“Of course.” He closed the door and locked it. “Talking to you is like trying to get water from a drained lake.”

She knew they couldn’t have one conversation without him going all Gandhi on her. “Meaning?”

“It’s impossible.”

She glanced to the locked door. “I thought we were going to look at the vegetable garden.”

“There’s nothing to see.”

“Are you telling me the rabbits ate everything?” If he’d used the cayenne pepper spray…

“No, I lied. The garden is fine. Everything is growing as it should.”

Her heart sped up when she caught the determination in his eyes. “Then why did you have me come over?” she asked, suspecting his reason. Dante knew his lasagna was her favorite, and then there was the discussion of dating. Chances were, like her, he could use a sexual release, but she needed a straight answer. As it stood, she’d end up dwelling on their conversation until sleep finally consumed her, but at least she’d have this portion of it settled.

He took several steps forward until he crowded her against the kitchen counter. “Honestly? I planned to romance you.”

His familiar, earthy scent surrounded her. He stood so close, his warm breath caressed her lips. She could easily see them having sex right here in the kitchen. Hard, fast and hot sex.

He cupped her cheek with his warm hand. She sighed and closed her eyes at the gentle touch and leaned into his palm. She’d missed the feel of him.

“I don’t want a divorce and I hate living here without you. I lied to get you here tonight, because I wanted to see if there was anything left between us.”

She stiffened and opened her eyes. Her stomach tightened, not with sensual need, but with fear and self-loathing. And she had no one to blame but herself. She’d walked away, left their home, left him. Not because she didn’t love him, but because he represented what she’d lost. “Is this the point where you pull out one of your spiritual quotes? Maybe you’ll give me the ‘if you love something, set it free’ line. That’s rather fitting.”