Love Gone to the Dogs (13 page)

His sexy grin returned. "I know a much more private place, where policemen don't shine lights in your window."

Her stomach flipped over. She hadn't had that sensation since she was a teenager in love for the first time. The promise in his voice unnerved her more than being surrounded by ten Neds. Without debating the wisdom of her action, she allowed him to guide her the rest of the way to his car.

When Shane pulled into his driveway, Leah glanced back at her house. The lights were on in the garage, which meant her grandfather was happily at work. Margaret's car was sitting out front which meant she was happily assisting Gramps. "I should go check on the boys."

"They're fine. I brought them enough movies to last them a lifetime."

"Yeah, it's the nature of those movies that has me worried. They all have to do with flying."

"
The Star Wars
trilogy is much more than that. It's a classic."

"I don't want Joey getting any more brilliant ideas about being a human airplane."

"I don't think you can stop the boy. He doesn't need movies to give him ideas. His mind is always working."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"My offer still stands about taking him hang gliding. It may cure him of his obsession."

"I sure hope so, because I'm fresh out of ideas where Joey is concerned. When they passed out parenting books, the chapter dealing with a precocious genius was missing from mine."

"Parenting is never easy, Leah, but I think you're doing a terrific job."

The compliment thawed something frozen deep inside of her. She had struggled after her husband left, trying to raise two boys and care for her grandfather. She knew she had protected her emotions with defenses. After Roger had left her and the boys, she had buried her feelings, afraid of opening herself up to that kind of hurt ever again. Why did she want to open herself up now to a man who told her he desired a relationship with no strings attached? She had de
clared the same objective, which now she knew was a lie.

Shane hopped out of the car and came around to open her door. "I'm sure glad I had the foresight to bring Princess over to your house. We should have no interruption."

"No interruption?" There went her stomach again, doing one somersault after another.

"We seem to be constantly interrupted when we start to get serious. I want to know everything about you, Leah, starting with where you were born."

"Chicago," she answered as he opened his back door and indicated that she go in first.

"A big city girl."

"Not by choice."

"Why the aversion? There's so much to do in a big city."

"Yeah, like a front row seat to a shooting."

He stopped and pivoted toward her. "When did this happen?" His voice was quiet, very soft.

"When I was fourteen. That's why I want my sons to grow up in a place like Shady Oaks."

"We have our share of crime."

"This place doesn't hold a candle to somewhere like Chicago." She couldn't keep the vulnerability from showing on her face or sounding in her voice.

His gaze touched hers, an intensity in his dark eyes that robbed her of rational thought. She was lost in that moment while she stood in the middle of his kitchen with only a foot separating them. She wanted Shane O'Grady like nothing else she had ever wanted, and that frightened her more than she cared to deal with.

He lifted his hand in a silent offering. She stared at it for a long moment, a tightness constricting each breath. Then, as if she knew she was plunging into a pool, she laid her hand in his and looked up again into those seductive brown eyes. The warmth there sent her heart to beating so fast that she thought she would faint. When she gripped him tighter to steady herself, he drew her up against him and locked his arms about her, anchoring her to his solid strength.

Shane cupped her face, bringing it up so he could look at her. "Not only are you a terrific mother, but I kinda like you as a neighbor, too."

She smiled. "You could have fooled me. I distinctively remember your welcome to the neighborhood, and let me be the first to suggest that you don't apply to be a member of the welcoming committee."

His thumb brushed across her lips. "Once I got past Arnold, I saw my mistake."

Her eyes slid closed as she relished the feel of his finger tracing her mouth in feathery touches. Then suddenly he was no longer caressing her with his finger. Instead, he brought his lips down on hers, his tongue coaxing her to open up to him. She did. He stole into her mouth, and into her heart as well. She abandoned her mistrust and placed herself in his care, praying she wouldn't regret it.

Shane picked her up and carried her toward his bedroom, bending to kiss her once on the stairs, their breaths tangling, their tongues dueling. After he laid her on his bed and straightened, he switched on the lamp and stared down at her.

"I want to see you when I make love to you." His gaze impaled her with a male appreciation that unraveled her poise.

She had only been with her husband, and this was all so new to her. A ray of doubt infused her. She started to rise from the bed.

"I want you, Leah. So much it hurts."

She stopped. The breath left her lungs. Images of them making love flashed into her mind. She felt seduced just by his look. In that moment she knew without a doubt that she wanted to be seduced thoroughly and completely by more than his look.

His gaze seemed to smolder while he watched her inhale and exhale rapidly. She noticed his breathing wasn't much smoother than hers as she reached up to touch his face, inviting him to join her. He seized her hand and brought it to his lips. Without breaking his visual connection with her, he teased her palm with his tongue, drawing slow circles on her skin. Then his mouth moved to the pulse at her wrist, and he used his teeth to caress her erotically. She felt as if she would melt against his bedspread, her breath burning hot in her chest.

She couldn't think beyond his incredibly gentle love bites that were making their way up her arm. He lifted his head, and his thumb continued its sensual assault rubbing over her wrist in delicious strokes that were as effective as his nibbles.

Feelings long denied swelled in her throat, causing a constriction. Framing her face within his large hands, he looked at her, intensely, feverishly. When he pulled her toward him, his mouth grazed the smoothness of her brow, the curve of her cheek, then finally the slender column of her throat. She moaned. The ultra sensitive nape of her neck tingled where his lips brushed it.

While his fingers combed through the richness of her hair, the tip of his tongue discovered the pulse at her throat setting free those emotions hidden for so long. A sound of tremendous pleasure came from her as he nipped at her neck, slowly making his way to her ear.

A riot of impressions—the soft tip of his tongue moistening her skin, the clean scent of him, his roughened fingers taunting her nape with gentle strokes, the passionate spark in his eyes that courted her—stunned her mind into sensory overload. She shuddered.

He pulled back slightly and stared down at her for a searing moment She was afraid he would stop and retreat into himself. He didn't want to be hurt any more than she. He was just as afraid of commitment. Even knowing that, she didn't want him to stop now. She needed to feel womanly, desired, something she hadn't felt in a long time. She needed to feel she was the most important person in his life—even if it was only for a short time.

She touched his mouth, tracing her finger along the bottom lip and then the top, much as he had hers earlier. Almost fiercely, he grabbed her hand and held it still. Then he took her finger into his mouth and with a tiny savagery that belied the moment he sank his teeth into it then sucked on its tip.

"I've wanted you from the first, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself." His voice seemed to smoke, deep and husky, its enticing timbre like an exotic drug working on her senses.

His mouth came down on hers, driving her back into the softness of his mattress while his body captured hers against him. The raw urgency of his kiss ignited her desire as nothing ever had. It was as if he were pouring all his emotions into the kiss, leaving her breathless, shaken, and wanting more of him—much, much more.

She gloried in his hunger for her, in the hot plundering of his tongue sweeping into her mouth, in the exquisite ache that rendered her powerless to stop him. She fell helpless in the sheer sensuality of his touches that sent fire crackling through her veins to every part of her.

She was losing control, on the edge of an abyss.

The feel of cold metal against her skin pricked the haze of passion she was cloaked in. Sanity swiftly returned as she realized he was still wearing his wedding ring. For a few fleeting moments she had forgotten. She couldn't do this! She'd thought she could; she was wrong. She pushed against his chest trying to free herself before she made the biggest mistake of her life. He rolled away, his breathing labored, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

A swell of emotions in her chest slowed her heart. She sat up, glancing about as though she were looking for a way to escape. She felt vulnerable and needed to fortify herself against his charm. She would fight this feeling of love because she had grown suspicious of the emotion. He wasn't ready, nor was she.

When she started to rise from the bed, he grabbed her hand and held her still. "Stay, Leah."

If she stayed she would only be prolonging the hurt, the need to fortify herself. "I can't." The words barely sounded in the quiet.

"Why?"

He sat up next to her, his male scent overpowering. Leah fought the temptation he offered, and again tried to move away. "This was a mistake, Shane. I'm not into casual sex." For as long as he wore his wedding ring that would be all it was, she realized, the hurt burrowing deep within.

"You think that was what this was?"

She wouldn't look him in the eye. "Yes." He stiffened, his grip on her hand tightening. She couldn't bring herself to mention the fact he still was wearing his wedding ring, and that bothered her because she, as well as he, had wanted to keep everything on a light note between them. She didn't have a right to be hurt by that fact. But she was—had tried to ignore the fact.

"I see. I guess you're right. After all, we did say no strings attached."

"Two adults exploring an attraction."

The light flickered, then went off. "What the—" Shane reached over to turn the knob on the bedside lamp. Nothing happened. He climbed from the bed and walked around the room, trying the switches on the other lights. Still nothing. He stopped at the window to look out. "The whole street is dark. Must be a power outage."

"I'd better get over to the house. Joey doesn't like the dark." She grabbed onto the excuse in order to make her escape before she did something she would live to regret.

"I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I want to."

Suddenly everything was so polite, so formal. Leah knew he was distancing himself, just as she was. It was a survival tactic she had down well. She didn't waste any time straightening her clothes. The stark silence in the room said everything.

When she was ready to leave, he took her hand. "Stay close. I know my way in the dark."

Neither the heat of his body nor the night could warm Leah as they walked toward her house. The cold pierced her and left her shaking. She wanted to wrap her arms about herself. She wanted Shane's arms about her, offering her silent comfort. She wouldn't ask—couldn't ask.

"The boys will be fine. They'll think this is an adventure," Shane said, misunderstanding her trembling.

Sam greeted her at the door with a flashlight. He looked ghoulish in the amber cast that shone on his face. "Mom, you aren't gonna like this."

"What?" One disastrous scene after another paraded through her mind in an instant.

"Gramps tried something new, and it didn't work."

Leah gestured toward the houses, all shrouded in black. "He did this?"

"Afraid so, Mom."

She sank down on the top step of the porch.
We might as well start packing
.

Chapter Eight

"You might as well come on inside and join the rest of the neighbors." Shane stepped aside to allow Mr. Calvert through the doorway.

Shane waved the older man into the living room, where seemingly a quarter of the people in town were assembled. Drawing in a deep, bracing breath, he listened to the din of voices bombarding Mr. Calvert as he entered the room.

"I was watching an episode of America's Most Wanted, and missed the end. That's one of my favorite TV shows." Ned could be heard over everyone else, Shane realized, and wished he were anywhere but in the midst of a gathering mob in the middle of his living room. Ned was out for blood, preferably Leah's and her grandfather's, with some of Shane's thrown in for good measure.

"I think he did it on purpose. I could have sworn the man they were highlighting looked a lot like Harold Smith. I told you all he was up to no good. What kind of name is Smith, anyway? Only someone out to hide something would use a name like that," Ned finished in a booming voice.