Guilty as Sin (38 page)

Still… She shifted, turning in his embrace to face him. The movement sent pain rippling through her back and legs, making her aware of the other injuries she hadn’t noticed yesterday over the hammering in her head.

She tried but couldn’t quite stifle the whimper working its way up her throat as she turned onto her right side. She felt Tommy’s body stiffen a split second before his eyes flew open.

He was instantly aware, on guard, and Kate instinctively recoiled from the sudden intensity. But his gaze immediately
softened as he focused on her face. Her heart jumped in her chest at his slow grin and the warm sparkle in his eyes.

His features were softer than usual, blurry from sleep. But more than that, there was none of that cool reserve she’d gotten so used to seeing on his face. With his full lips pulled into that smile that sent a tingle through her that made her temporarily forget about the various aches in her body and his dark eyes crinkling at the corners, he looked so different.

Happier. Younger.

Like the Tommy she’d known and fallen for so many years ago. Her breath hitched in her throat. It must be a side effect of the concussion, causing her to imagine things that weren’t there.

But she couldn’t dismiss the gentle touch of his hand as he brushed her hair back from her face, the way his hand curved around her neck and rested there in a touch that felt equal parts affectionate and possessive.

“How’s your head?” he asked softly.

She shifted her head against the pillows to test the waters. A dull ache, but nothing close to the sledgehammer from the night before. “Not bad.” She shifted, sucking a breath through her teeth as pain shot up her left side.

He winced in sympathy and carefully shifted her onto her back. “Is it your ribs?” He came up on one elbow and leaned over her, his face tight with concern. “The doctor said you had some bruising.”

Kate’s brow furrowed as another detail of the attack snapped into place. “That must have happened when he tackled me on the stairs.”

“When I get my hands on the asshole that did this to you, he’s going to be crying for his mommy by the time I’m done with him.”

The ferocity of his words was at odds with his touch as
he ran his hand up over the sore area, the warmth somehow diminishing the pain. Instead, she became immediately, acutely aware of the intimacy of the moment. In bed with Tommy Ibarra, wearing nothing more than panties and a T-shirt that had ridden up over her hips. Under the covers, her bare legs brushed against his. Electricity shot through her at the feel of his hair-roughened calf slide against her own.

The fact that they hadn’t had sex but had slept next to each other made it somehow more intimate. The last time she’d been in a bed with Tommy, he hadn’t been able to get out of there fast enough after sex. And she’d been as relieved as she was hurt by his quick retreat.

But last night he’d tucked her into bed—his own bed, not the guest room. She hadn’t been so out of it that she hadn’t noticed.

He’d held her most of the night while they both slept, and now he seemed in no hurry to go anywhere.

His hand slid down from her ribs, to the curve of her waist, and came to rest on her hip. Her breath hitched as strong fingers curved around her and his big body shifted closer.

He’d worn a T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts to bed, but there was no mistaking the subtle tension that overtook him, the wave of heat that radiated off of him. And there was no way she could miss the steely column of flesh pressing insistently against her opposite hip, branding her through layers of clothing with its heat and hardness.

“Kate.” He groaned, bending his head to hers.

She reached her arm over to loop it around his shoulder and lifted her mouth for his kiss, then let out a sharp cry as a shaft of pain stabbed her in the side.

“Son of a bitch,” Tommy muttered, and pulled away,
leaving the bed as quickly as he could without bouncing her around too much. “I’m sorry, Kate. This has got to be the last thing you want—”

“Don’t apologize,” Kate said, wincing again as she shifted herself up against the pillows. “I don’t know if you could tell or not, but my spirit was pretty willing, if only my damn ribs would cooperate.”

He shot her a rueful look. “And there’s that little matter of a concussion.”

“I think you could make me forget about my headache pretty quickly.” She grinned back. “But the ribs—” Her breath caught as she tried to find a comfortable position.

He gave her a sympathetic nod. “Ribs are a bitch.” He came over to her side of the bed and helped arrange the pillows around her, then went to the bathroom to get her water and ibuprofen. By the time she was settled semicomfortably, her head had started to throb again and her eyelids felt like they were weighed down with sandbags.

Even so, a prickle of heat sizzled through her when Tommy’s lips pressed gently against her own.

“Get some more rest,” he whispered. “You’re going to need it for when you’re recovered.”

Any questions she might have had about his meaning dissolved at the feel of his teeth closing ever so gently around her earlobe, followed by a flick of his tongue against the sensitive flesh.

B
y the time Kate woke again, the sun was glowing hotly through the crack in Tommy’s drapes. The sun wasn’t the only thing that was hot, she thought as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Thanks to Tommy, her brain had been torturing her with dreams of the two of them naked in a sweaty tangle, either in the middle of sex or about to get to it but somehow never managing to finish before she was struck down by a sharp ache somewhere in her body.

Unfortunately, the pain was real and not just part of the dream, a fact that was driven home as she pushed herself to her feet and felt a sharp ache in her hips and ribs. She sucked in a breath and took a moment to catalog her injuries. Her headache had diminished to a dull background ache, and after she took a few steps, the aches in her hip and ribs subsided somewhat.

She was nearly to the bathroom when the door to the bedroom flung open.

“What the hell are you doing up?” Tommy strode over, his brows knitted into a tight frown.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Kate snapped.

“You should have waited for me to help you,” Tommy chided as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders for support.

“You forgot to leave the butler bell when you left.”

“Smartass,” he muttered. “I’ll wait out here until you’re finished.

“Really, I think I can make it out to the kitchen by myself.” Achy or not, she didn’t like the mental picture of Tommy sitting on the bed waiting while she took care of all of her bathroom business.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly, “but if you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I’m coming to check on you.”

Kate rolled her eyes and shooed him out but couldn’t deny the burst of warmth in her belly at the thought of him worrying about her. It had been so long since anyone had fussed over her, she’d forgotten what it felt like.

And the fact that it was Tommy… well, that brought up a whole mess of things she wasn’t in any shape to deal with right now. Not to mention, she reminded herself soberly, after yesterday’s misadventures, they were no closer to finding Tricia.

She emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, body scrubbed clean and her hair damp. On the bed was a small pile of clothing. Kate shook it out and found a denim skirt, a blue cotton T-shirt with the word “JUICY” emblazoned across the front, underwear, and a stretchy lace bra.

After an initial burst of jealousy as she wondered where Tommy had come across these women’s clothes, she tamped it back and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. She might have thought him capable of it before, but after last night, Kate was almost certain Tommy wouldn’t be so casually cruel as to dress her in clothes that belonged to another lover.

She left his bedroom and followed the sounds of activity and the delicious smells of coffee and toast wafting from the kitchen.

Tommy was standing at the stove, shuffling a pan. He looked over his shoulder, grinning appreciatively when he saw her. “Looks like everything fits. I wasn’t sure since Emilia is so much taller than you.”

“These are your sister’s?” Kate looked down at herself. She’d only met Tommy’s little sister a handful of times. The last time she’d seen her, the little girl had been barely nine years old. It was impossible to imagine her big enough to fit these clothes, much less be taller than Kate herself.

“Yeah, from when she was in about ninth grade. Luckily Mom has a problem throwing anything away. I had her run them over while you were still asleep,” he said, turning back to the stove. “I figured you’d want something else to wear besides my giant T-shirts.”

Despite her talk to herself about getting her head back on the important matters at hand, she started to get a little misty at his consideration.

He set a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and toast on the breakfast bar and motioned her over. “Come eat.”

“I can’t eat all that,” she said, though her stomach rumbled as she sat down and took up her fork.

“Well, you have to eat some,” he said, “or else you can’t have this,” he said, shaking a small brown prescription bottle.

Despite her various aches and pains, she shook her head. “No pain pills. I don’t want to be out of it.”

“I figured that,” Tommy said, “so I had the doctor write you up a prescription for Diclofenac. It’s basically high-octane ibuprofen, so you need to take it with food or it will rip your stomach to shreds.”

Kate nodded and picked up a forkful of eggs, but it was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat. God, what was wrong with her, getting so emotional over something as silly
as Tommy’s anticipating her desire to avoid narcotics and fixing her a plate of eggs?

But when was the last time anyone thought about what you wanted or needed, Kate? What would you have done last night if Tommy hadn’t been there? If this had happened back in L.A., who would have come to your rescue?

Come on.
She tried to snap herself out of her pity party.
You have plenty of friends who care about you.
But not anybody she could count on to be there, anywhere, anytime, without fail.

She’d done that, she realized, by always keeping a certain distance. While she made herself available without question, without limits, to virtual strangers, after what happened to Michael, she’d never expected or asked anyone to do the same for her.

Until this second she hadn’t realized how badly she’d missed that. A low whisper in the dark echoed through her consciousness.
I’ll always be here for you.

At that moment she realized Tommy’s whisper hadn’t been part of another dream.

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Tommy’s voice was tight with concern and the sound of a spatula hitting the stove echoed through the kitchen.

Kate looked up, startled, and it was only then that she realized she was crying. Mortified, she grabbed up her napkin and swallowed back a sob. “No, I’m fine, I’m sorry—”

Tommy was already at her side, cradling her face gently as he tilted it back so he could look in her eyes. “Is it your head? Your ribs?” Though his voice was calm, his eyes were anxious in a way she would have never expected from the cool, remote man he’d grown into.

“I’m not hurt, not any worse anyway,” she said. “I’m just”—
a completely screwed-up emotional mess
—“a little
overwhelmed by everything.”
And by “everything,” I mean you and all the crazy ideas I’m starting to get just because you’re being so nice to me.

“Tell me about it,” he said. His hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing slowly against her cheekbone.

He was so close she could see the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes, the individual whiskers that shadowed his hard jaw. “You wouldn’t know it from the last few days, but I’m usually much more in control of my emotions,” Kate said with a little sniff.

“Nothing like stress and having the crap scared out of you to bring all of it right up to the surface.” The way he said it, she wasn’t sure he was talking about her.

In which case… Her heart stuttered as she wondered what emotions, exactly, were coming to his surface. Was she an idiot to hope they even came close to matching hers?

Her eyes drifted down to his mouth, studying the fullness of his bottom lip, its softness almost incongruous with the harshness of his features. Her own lips tingled with the need to feel them on hers.

As though he read her mind, Tommy groaned and closed the distance between them. He caught the back of her head, holding her in place as his mouth took hers in a kiss that stole her breath and sent an ache of desire through her that was so fierce it made her other aches and pains seem like nothing.

Kate wrapped her hand around his neck and sucked his tongue into her mouth, drinking in the taste of him, as starved for him as if it had been years instead of days since she’d tasted him last.

He ended the kiss as quickly as it started, jerking away even as Kate tried to hold him close.

“Christ,” he said, breathing hard. He closed his eyes and
rested his forehead against hers as Kate tried to slow the galloping pace of her heart. “This can’t happen, not right now.”