Colder Than Ice (23 page)

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Authors: Maggie Shayne

BOOK: Colder Than Ice
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She set her glass down on the end table beside her. It made a loud tap when it landed, punctuating, she hoped, the look she sent him. “Until I'm too drunk to care?”

“You've only had two—”

“You put me off through salad and dinner and dessert, Josh. I'm done waiting.”

“Did you like it?” He took a slow sip and met her eyes. “The fudge brownie?”

“You make a mean brownie. But if you change the subject one more time, you're going to be wearing the rest of the pan. Or maybe just my wine, since it's closer.”

He sighed, lowering his head.

“Who are you really, Josh?”

Lifting his head slowly, he nodded. “I'm a security expert—a glorified bodyguard, if that makes it simpler. My partner and I own a company that specializes in protecting high-profile clients.”

“You work for the government.”

He shook his head. “No. I own my own business. Hell, most of the time we don't even do the legwork ourselves anymore. We have a lot of good men on the payroll to do the actual hands-on work.”

“Then why are you here?”

He lowered his head. “Arthur Stanton—the man in charge of protecting you—contacted me and asked me to take some time off to handle a special project for him.”

Arthur Stanton—the man in charge of her relocation and, supposedly, protection. “And I'm the special project,” she surmised. God, why was it so disappointing to hear the truth at last? This was what she had wanted. The truth. That didn't mean she had to like it, though.

“He said the guys on Uncle Sam's payroll were too obvious, and you would send them packing every time he sent one into town. He wanted me to be…more discreet.”

“To lie to me. Pretend to be someone else.”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Sneaky son of a bitch.”

“He's only trying to do his job, Beth. And obviously, given what's been happening here, it's a damn good thing he did.”

She frowned then. “And just in the nick of time, too.” Her eyes narrowed. “How did he know Mordecai was about to track me down?”

“He didn't.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then it's coincidence, him sending you out here just in time? No way. It's been months since he tried saddling me with any of his henchmen.” Beth reached for her wine, took a long sip, then stared into the glass. “You're either lying to me again, or you really believe that. I don't.”

“I'm not lying to you, Beth.”

“Then you're way too trusting of Arthur Stanton.”

She looked at him, saw him frowning as if considering her words. Maybe he'd already been wondering the same things. “So you never really knew Maude at all.”

“No. Arthur's reports on you named her as your closest contact in town, so she seemed the natural way in. We took a shot. I approached her, told her you might be in danger, and that I had to get close to you in order to protect you.” He shook his head. “She was more than willing to cooperate. Hell, the whole long-lost grandson bit was her idea. If I'd known the only person in town who would know better was also the police chief, I'd have thought of something else.”

“Frankie knows?”

“She knows a little. That I'm here to protect you, not why.”

She pursed her lips. “I can't believe she lied to me. Much less that Maude did.”

He lowered his head, swirled the wine in his glass. “She really loved you, Beth.”

“And you used it against me.”

“Not against you. Never against you. I came here to protect you.”

Beth drained her wine in one gulp. “And Bryan?”

“Everything I told you about Bryan is the truth. And yes, he did know the real reason we were here, and he hated it. He's been bitching at me nonstop to just tell you the truth, threatening to do it for me if I waited too long.”

She nodded. She would have guessed as much about Bryan. The boy had a good heart. As for his father…

She focused on the fire burning in the hearth, rather than on him. “So that's it, then? That's all of it?”

“That's not even close to all of it.” Joshua took the glass from her hand and set it down. “As soon as I met you, things started to change. Beth, I think we both know there's something between us. Something…good. It's been killing me to keep the truth from you. But I was scared to death that when
I told you, you'd throw me out of your house and out of your life. And maybe you'd end up dead because of it.” He lowered his head, shaking it slowly. “I painted myself into a corner, Beth, and I didn't know how to get out. So I told myself my feelings didn't matter. Your finding out the truth in the end and hating me for it didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was keeping you safe, no matter what it might cost me.”

“And what about what it might cost me?” Damn the tears for springing into her eyes.

“I'm sorry. God, you don't know how sorry I am. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Her brows pulled together—the words, the sound of them, were so familiar. As if she'd heard him say them before. Long, long before.

“I never meant to have feelings for you. It's completely unprofessional, totally against everything I've taught the men who work for me, and something I never thought would happen to me, not in a million years. But I do feel something for you, Beth. I do, and I can't help it.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes, even though it meant revealing the moisture in her own. “Please don't lie to me…not about this…. I can't—”

He stopped her whispered plea with a kiss. His lips touched hers, lightly, softly, at first. And then his arms slid around her, one encircling her waist to draw her closer, the other slipping to her nape so his fingers could thread upward into her hair.

A shudder worked through her body, from the soles of her feet all the way to the top of her head. She told herself to pull away, but she didn't listen. The kiss grew. It deepened, ripened and heated. She found herself clinging to him, kissing him back, opening to his tongue and then tangling hers with it. He
kissed her, and kissed her and kissed her some more, until her heart was racing and she couldn't catch her breath and didn't care. Her entire body was alive with wanting him.

But finally he lifted his head away.

Somehow she'd ended up reclining on the love seat, with him leaning over her. He was staring down at her when she opened her eyes, and the look in his was one she tried hard to read. Surprise, confusion and desire all mingled there, and she only understood the latter.

He was everything she had vowed never to trust again. Male, less than honest with her, keeping secrets still, she sensed, and working for the government on top of all that. And yet she wanted him. God, was she doomed to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over? And then again, she reasoned, what did it matter? She had nothing to lose now. No daughter. No lover. No life, really.

What did it matter?

He started to sit up, avoiding her eyes.

She gripped his shoulders, stopping the retreat. “All right, Joshua. All right.”

Facing her again, he frowned.

“You win,” she said.

His frown deepened. “I win? This isn't a battle, Beth. All I want is for you to believe me. To trust me.”

She let the bitter smile cross her lips. “I almost believe you. I'll probably never trust you, not fully. But, as stupid as it may be, I do have feelings for you. And I do want you. Now. Tonight.”

He stared at her—stunned, maybe. “I wasn't trying to get you into bed. I didn't mean for that kiss to…I got carried away.”

She unbuttoned his shirt, one button. Then the next. “You know what? I don't really care.”

“Beth, you've been through too much in the past couple of days—this isn't the right time—”

She kept unbuttoning, noting that he didn't put his hands over hers to stop her. She got the last button free, slid her hands over his chest, upward to his shoulders, and watched him close his eyes. “Do you have any idea, Joshua, how long it's been since I've been with a man?” Sliding her hands lower again, she raked her nails lightly over his nipples, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Make it good, Josh.”

He opened his eyes slowly, staring down at her. His hands—were they shaking a little?—moved to the sash of her robe and tugged it free. Then he was lifting her gently, so he could slide the robe off her shoulders, down her arms. The white linen nightgown was thin. But the firelight warmed her. She watched his gaze focus on her breasts, and knew her nipples were hard and visible beneath the fabric. He wasn't moving, so she reached to the neckline and began undoing the tiny buttons herself. One by one, all the way. The linen fell open, just slightly, with every button she unfastened, revealing a ribbon of flesh down the center of her body.

She lay back again, waiting.

Almost hesitantly, his hands pushed the nightgown open, and the breath stuttered out of him when he did. “Beth,” he whispered. And his hands smoothed a path over her shoulders, breasts, belly…and then back again to her breasts, where they lingered.

She let her head fall backward. His palms on her were not enough, even when he squeezed. “Please, Josh.”

He drew his fingertips over her nipples then. Finally. Pressure, tugging, tender pinches. She opened her mouth and trembled with every touch.

He drew back, sliding off the love seat so he knelt on the floor beside it, and then he finished unbuttoning the gown, pushing it open, exposing her hips and her thighs. Then he slid his hands over her abdomen, down her legs, as if compelled to touch every part of her. “You're more beautiful than I ever dreamed,” he whispered. He stroked a hand over her center, hesitated there. Beth moved her thighs apart, letting one leg drop to the floor. Joshua swore softly and let his fingers burrow between them, softly exploring, probing, just a little at a time, his movements slow. When one finger slid inside her, she whimpered, moaned, and that seemed to be what finally broke the dam of his restraint.

Bending over her, he captured a breast in his mouth, sucking the hard nipple between his teeth even while his fingers deepened their invasion, sliding in and out, the pace faster than before. The fire inside her was alive, and he was building it higher. God, how she wanted. She had never wanted like this. She was moving her hips against his hand, silently begging for more. At last his mouth released her breast and moved down her body. Lips and tongue and teeth making a fiery wet path over her belly and lower, then still lower. And then his fingers withdrew, and his hands spread her open, and he bent lower, pushing his face between her legs. His tongue snaked out, a hot, slow lick. He spread her open even wider with his fingers, so his tongue could delve inside. One hand slid beneath her buttocks, to tip her up, and he plunged even deeper, devouring her from the inside out.

Beth cried out, her hands pressing to his head. Every sound she made seemed to drive his hunger, until his feeding became so frenzied that his teeth scraped over her clitoris with every lap of his tongue, and still he strove to lick more deeply, to taste more of her. It was as if he couldn't get enough.

She screamed aloud when she came, her entire body spasming, twitching, and that only served to make him keep lapping, sucking, biting her gently, until she was shaking so hard she thought she would break apart.

But it wasn't over.

He'd shed his jeans at some point, and now he gripped her shoulders, pulled her upright and around on the love seat until her legs were on either side of him, where he knelt on the floor. His hands gripped her buttocks, and he pulled her forward, off the settee, and onto his rock-hard erection. So big, she felt him stretching her as he sank himself into her, and yet she was so wet he entered her easily, deeply. She was still spasming from the orgasm, on the verge of begging for mercy.

But then he moved his hips, and she had no desire to be free. Only to take him, more of him, all of him. She clung to his shoulders, moving over him, and he caught a breast in his mouth again, using his teeth far more aggressively this time than he had before. His hands on her backside squeezed, fingers pinching now and then as he pulled her down onto him, harder with every thrust.

She sucked in a sharp breath, going still with shock and sensation. He jerked her hips forward, driving his cock deeper; then he pulled back and drove in again and yet again. Harder, deeper, and it felt good. Then she was helping him invade her, possess her utterly, by rising up and driving herself down over him. “Oh, God!”

She was coming again, and she thought he was, too, but the sensations were overwhelming, blinding, deafening. As he drove to the very depths of her, she crushed her body against him, taking everything he gave her.

He held her there, her body wrapped around his, and
slowly, he lay back on the floor, snuggling her with him, holding her so tenderly she felt almost cherished. As the echoes of passion slowly ebbed, she rested her head against his chest and whispered, “I love you, Joshua.”

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