Come Gentle the Dawn (17 page)

Linc changed position slightly so he could tip his head back. Had he dozed? He wasn’t sure until he lifted his head and looked at the clock. Four o’clock. “Feeling better?” he asked Brie, his voice gravelly.

Brie nodded, not trusting her voice, her throat raw and dry from her wails of pure anguish. Linc’s hand settled on her hair, and he gently raked his fingers through the silken mass. The sensation was utterly drugging to her.

“You slept for a while,” he murmured. Linc should have been groggy, but he wasn’t. His awareness was hotly centered on Brie and how good she felt in his arms.

“W-what time is it?”

“Around four.”

She didn’t want to stir from his arms. “I’m sorry…”

“I’m not. That’s been a long time coming, kitten.”
His fingers brushed her cheek. “And I’m glad you shared it with me.”

Brie was silent for a long time, staring into the darkness, focusing on the beat of Linc’s heart. “You’re a good man.”

Linc managed a slight chuckle. “JoAnne would tell you differently.”

She ran her hand across his collarbone, aware of the muscled strength that lay beneath her palm. “I’m not JoAnne.”

“No, thank God, you’re not.” He gently moved her as he sat up, keeping her deep in his embrace. Looking down at her, Linc held his breath. She was gazing up at him, her eyes dark and luminous. Fragile. The word slammed home to him. He had to try to tread a fine line with her, keep his distance and continue to provide her the stability she needed. A faint smile touched his mouth as he reached down to brush some strands of hair away from her brow.

“You’re good in a crisis, Linc.”

“I’ve had a few myself.” There was self-deprecation in his voice.

Brie closed her eyes again, allowing his voice to flow through her. “I’ve been wanting to cry for such a long time,” she began tremulously. “And the tears just wouldn’t come. I cried when I came out of that coma and Chief Saxon told me John was dead.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “I couldn’t even make the funeral. I cried for Carol and Susie, because I knew just how much they loved John.”

Linc kissed her hair. “But you never cried for yourself, did you, Brie?”

She turned, burying her face on his neck and shoulder, her arm slipping around him. “It was awful,” she muffled. “Awful.”

He began to rock her as the tears came again. “You endured three months of pain in that burn unit all by yourself, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Brie said, choking. “H-how could I let my parents or my brother see me screaming like that?” She shuddered in memory of those times when she had to soak in warm water and they had torn dead flesh from her healing wounds.

Linc tightened his embrace, burying his head against hers, eyes tightly shut. “Listen to me, kitten. You’re a woman of tremendous strength and courage. I’ve seen that rare kind of combination in some men, but never a woman before. And with that steel will, you can hold a lot at bay that ordinary people would have been forced to release a long time ago. In some ways, you’ve carried an even greater load because of that.” He inhaled the silky scent of her hair, fighting to keep himself on a tight rein. “There’s nothing wrong with crying, Brie. And there’s nothing wrong in letting others see you be human. Stop trying to be Super Woman. Just be yourself. That’s enough.”

Brie struggled to sit up. She remained sitting next to him, his arm draped in a relaxed manner around her waist. Sniffing, she wiped the last of the tears away, giving him a shy look. The tenderness she saw in Linc’s features staggered her. Was she looking at a different man? Then Brie realized that he, too, hid behind walls, just as she had. How many sides were there to Linc? A smile pulled at her lips, and she reached out, trying to
dry his chest of all her tears. He caught her hand, pressing it where his heart lay.

“Don’t erase what we shared,” he told her in a low voice, his eyes stormy.

Her fingers tingled wildly upon contact with his hard flesh, and Brie was achingly aware of Linc as a supreme male. The black hair on his chest intensified his rugged looks; the planes in his face were etched sharply against the shadows of the retreating night.

“We’ve shared nothing but my pain in the five days since we met, Linc.”

A gentle smile tugged at his mouth. “Am I complaining?”

His teasing was back, and Brie rallied beneath his cajoling. “No. But I can’t help thinking what you must think of me.”

“I accept you, Brie.
All
of you. I kinda like the way you are.”

A tentative smile stretched across her lips. “You really are a masochist.”

He dislodged himself from her and rose. “Stay there,” he told her in an authoritative tone. Brie gave him a questioning look as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later, and she noted how his thin cotton pajama bottoms hung from his hips, showing a dark line of hair that disappeared beneath the loosely knotted drawstring. Linc knelt in front of her, placing a shot glass in her hand.

“Here, drink this,” he said gruffly, one hand resting on her silk-covered thigh.

Brie stared at it. “What is it?”

“Apricot brandy. Found it the other night when I was
digging in the refrigerator for that last piece of lemon pie you made. Now, go on, drink it. All of it.”

She tipped the small glass to her lips and gulped it down. A fiery sensation spread rapidly down her throat into her stomach; relaxation flew through her almost immediately afterward. Linc took the glass from her hands and placed it on the lamp table.

“Okay,” he said, lifting her in his arms. “It’s time for you to go to sleep.”

Brie gasped softly as he picked her up and brought her against him. Automatically, her arms settled around his neck, her head resting on his capable shoulder. “I can walk,” she protested.

“I know you can. I just like having an excuse to stay close to you.”

She closed her eyes, trusting him completely. “You’re good with people, Linc Tanner.”

He carried her to the bed and gently laid her down. Brie looked so small and helpless in that huge brass bed. He forced himself to cover her, drawing the quilt up around her shoulders.

“Just with certain special people,” he corrected quietly.

The brandy was having a powerful effect on Brie. She tried to keep her eyes open, but it was impossible. Reaching out, her slender hand hanging off the edge of the mattress, she murmured, “Thank you, Linc. I don’t know what I’d have done without you…”

His eyes softened as he heard her exhausted words. How could she be anything but a victim in all this? Against his better judgment, Linc leaned over and brushed her parted lips with a kiss. “Good night, Sleeping Beauty. You’re one hell of a woman in my book.”

*

Linc glowered at the packed and unpacked boxes lying at his feet in the center of his apartment. His boss had sent them as part of the ruse Linc had to continue to play. It was Sunday night, and he still wasn’t moved in! As he glared at the nondescript beige walls, the ivory drapes and ivory furniture, he thought how dull the room looked in comparison to Brie’s living room. His mood had deteriorated since Saturday morning, when he woke up at eight to find Brie had made coffee, left him a note and had already gone. Throughout that day, while helping Jeff move his furniture from a third-floor attic apartment into a van, Linc wondered if Brie had left him asleep because she was too embarrassed to face him.

Hands resting on his knees, he sat in the middle of the carpet, damned unhappy. And he knew why. He missed Brie acutely. He’d never missed another woman in his life as he did her. Before, he had always been able to separate business from pleasure, work from play. This assignment was turning out all wrong, and it left him feeling nakedly vulnerable. Linc got to his knees and began to unpack the last box of books, which would go up on the bookshelves on the opposite wall. He itched to pick up the newly installed phone and give Brie a call to see if she was home yet. He didn’t like the idea of her going anywhere without him! But how was he going to lie his way out of moving into an apartment just so he could stay in her home to guard her? She’d misinterpret his motives, and that could be just as disastrous. No matter what happened, Linc had to try to keep a certain distance from Brie.

It was almost nine o’clock when the doorbell chimed.
Linc frowned, getting up and making his way through discarded packing boxes. Who could that be? He wasn’t expecting anyone. He opened the door, and his heart began pounding. Brie stood there with a small cardboard box in her hands. Just seeing her smile melted his bad mood, and Linc grinned.

“I didn’t expect you.”

Brie tried to tame her thumping heart, remembering all too clearly Linc’s tenderness and his kisses. She had been able to concentrate on little else. She was thankful there were no haz-mat calls, and she could do the workshop for the various fire departments with her eyes closed.

“By now I thought you might be ready for another home-cooked meal.” She held the box toward him. “Supper. Are you hungry?”

Linc groaned, eagerly taking the small box. “You’ve got to be the world’s best lifesaver. Yeah, I’m starved. Come on in. At least the kitchen is in decent shape,” he muttered.

Brie tried to ignore her vivid awareness of Linc as she followed him. She put her hands in her pockets and looked around the rectangular room. Linc had put the box on the table.

“Nice,” Brie approved. She pulled open a drawer by the sink and found silverware.

He snorted. “Compared to your house, it’s nothing.”

Brie felt a twinge of happiness when she saw Linc’s face soften as he opened the foil-wrapped meal.

“I don’t believe this. Stuffed pork chops, rice, gravy, peas and a salad.”

With a laugh, Brie pulled out a chair for him. “Come on, sit down before you faint, Tanner. You’d think no
one ever made a home-cooked meal for you the way you’re behaving.”

“Wait, there’s one more. Is this dessert?”

Dessert is kissing you, Brie thought. “Yes. Why don’t you save opening it for later? A surprise.”

Unable to wait, Linc lifted out the plate and carefully unwrapped the foil around it. “A cherry pie. I’ll be damned.” He looked at her as she sat down. “How’d you have time to make all this stuff?”

She enjoyed his pleasure over the food. No wonder women liked cooking for their men when they made a meal seem as if it were a treasure. It would be easy to cook for Linc on a daily basis because he was grateful for her efforts. “I got home at six tonight and got to thinking that you’ve probably been subsisting on Wendy’s and McDonald’s hamburgers.”

Linc sat down, eager to eat. “Ask me where all the fast-food places are now and I can tell you,” he muttered. He was about to dig in when he looked at her. “Have you eaten?”

She had come to expect that of Linc—the ability to share with another. “Yes.” Brie looked down at her uniform. “As you can tell, I didn’t even change. I got home and started cooking.”

Between bites of the succulent stuffed pork chops, Linc asked, “How’d the class go?”

“Good, as usual. The guys really got into the tactics and strategy sessions on Sunday. They had a good time and learned something in the process.

“Brie, this is delicious.”

She smiled, resting her chin on her clasped hands. Just for you, Linc. For all your kindness and under
standing. Through her lashes, Brie wondered how she could have thought Linc was such a bastard. Of course, they had gotten off on the wrong foot, but things were changing now, rapidly.

“How come you let me sleep Saturday morning?”

Brie roused herself, addressing his question. “I was going to wake you, but you looked so tired, Linc.” She gave him a slight smile, meeting and holding his probing blue gaze. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I was groggy from being up that night. Why should I have made you as miserable as I felt?”

He spooned a portion of rice and gravy into his mouth and was silent for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. I think we’re pretty good being miserable together.”

She smiled softly, meeting and drowning in his tender gaze. “Yes, yes we are. I still haven’t thanked you for holding me…helping me through all that, Linc.”

He had finished the dinner and got up to set the plate on the counter. Then he sat down. “You’d have done the same for me,” he told her.

“Yes.”

He folded his arms on the table, holding her wavering gaze. “How are you feeling since it happened?” Linc had worried about the deception he was playing on her. It wasn’t time yet to tell her the truth because he felt she was still under too much strain. And besides, the more Brie trusted him, the more she was readily volunteering things about herself. All the scraps of evidence would eventually yield an answer.

Brie looked at the ceiling. “Fragile. As if I’ve had a baby-bottle brush wipe me clean inside.” She lowered
her head and pointed at her tear-filled eyes. “I also cry at the drop of a hat now.”

Linc saw a tear drift down, leaned over and brushed it away with his thumb. “That’s a good sign,” he murmured.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It means you can begin to heal now. Holding all that stuff inside was stopping you from healing, Brie. Until you get rid of the poisons you’re holding, you remain raw.”

She sniffed, took a Kleenex from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

Linc saw the frail quality in Brie’s face and heard it in her voice. The cleansing had left her more vulnerable than she was comfortable with. As much as he wanted to reach out and take her into his arms or kiss her, he knew he didn’t dare. Right now she needed a good friend to talk things out with.
Friends.
He laughed at himself. Another first. He’d never tried to establish a friendship with a woman before. Now it was happening.

Brie closed her eyes, resting her brow against her clasped hands. “I feel so awkward, Linc. You’re almost a stranger. My parents, my brother and Carol have all reached out to try to help me.” She lifted her lashes, staring blindly at the kitchen wall. “And I was afraid. Embarrassed. You should see the stack of letters I have to answer, the phone calls I have to make. I’ve avoided so much in the past three months.”