Risking it All (16 page)

scarier than a vehicle heading toward

you at full speed.

She’d only heard the tail end of the

argument with his sister, thanks to their

voices rising. Curiosity getting the better

of her, she’d opened the door a crack

and seen him standing in the doorway

with another woman. The pink-haired

woman on his wall, who she’d pieced

together had to be his mother. Even

without knowing the history there, she

knew with absolute certainty the visit

had been hard for him. Very hard. And

now the Bowen who’d taken her to

church this morning and made her laugh

was long gone. Replaced by a man she

didn’t totally recognize.

If his threatening demeanor weren’t

layered

with

an

almost

tangible

vulnerability, she would have turned on

her heel and barricaded herself in the

bedroom. But she did see it. She saw his

need to release frustration, maybe even

pain. Pain she could heal. Healing was

in her blood, thanks to her years as a

nurse. Bowen brought that quality out of

her like a bullet being fired.
Heal. Fix.

Repair
.

Those acknowledged desires were her

final thoughts before he reached her. His

mouth slammed down on top of hers,

stealing her breath. Rough hands dug into

the skin at her hips as he walked her

backward. It only took a second for his

desperation to grow contagious. Her

instincts were crying for her to ease his

torment, to be the one who cured him.

She plastered her body to his, circling

her arms around his neck and digging her

fingers into his hair.

Her legs met the edge of the bed and

they toppled onto it, Bowen catching

himself on his elbows so he wouldn’t

crush her, but his mouth never stopped

moving over hers. The kiss didn’t carry

even a hint of sweetness. It was sex.

Pure and simple. A hot, mind-blowing

using
of her mouth. His lower body

found the notch between her thighs and

bore down. She broke away from his

mouth to moan, but he jerked her face

back and bit her bottom lip.

Briefly, their eyes met and Sera felt

the beginnings of alarm. She didn’t see

Bowen in there anywhere. More than

anything, she wanted him. Wanted this.

But she wouldn’t be experiencing it with

Bowen. She would regret it and so

would he.

He growled as he pinned her arms

over her head. “I bet you thought your

first time would be with someone
nice
.

Someone who would sprinkle rose

petals on the bed and ease you in.” He

bent down and ripped her shirt open

with his teeth, buttons popping off onto

the bed, exposing her lacy black bra. His

hot gaze raked over her breasts as he

worked his hips in a grinding circle.

“Not me, Sera. I don’t do easy.”

“
Bowen
.” She just managed to bite

back a moan. “Look at me.”

“All

I
do
is look at you,” he

practically shouted.

A knot formed in her throat at the

sincerity in his statement. “You can be

that nice guy. You
are
that nice guy.”

When his gaze darkened, she knew it

had been the wrong thing to say. “You

think I’m
nice
?” He leaned down and

spoke against her ear, his tone reminding

her of cut glass. “I don’t even know what

that word means. I would ram my cock

so deep into that virgin pussy, I’d hit

your back wall on my first thrust. Do not

fucking doubt me.”

Even knowing his words hadn’t been

intended to arouse, they set a sharp ache

pulsing between her thighs. “No, you

wouldn’t. You wouldn’t cause me pain.”

“
Yes, I would.”

“No.” She wriggled one of her hands

free to stroke the side of his face,

relieved when he squeezed his eyes shut

and turned his face into her hand. “Not

like this, Bowen.”

When his eyes opened again, the

glazed-over quality had mostly gone. He

seemed to become aware of his

surroundings again, really
seeing
her for

the first time. As if a string had been cut,

his body dropped heavily onto hers. He

pushed his face up against her neck on a

shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so

fucking sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “I

know.”

“Please don’t be scared of me,

Ladybug,” he said hoarsely. “I won’t be

able to stand it.”

“I’m not.”

He turned onto his side and gently

pulled her against his chest. As if she’d

done it hundreds of times before, she

tucked her head under his chin. Her

eyelids started to feel heavy almost

immediately, the fingers stroking the

bare skin of her back not helping

matters. Every few minutes, he would

tug her closer, each time feeling like

another apology. Still able to feel the

tension in his body, she searched for a

way to distract him.

“How did you get the live chicken?”

The fingers stroking her back paused,

preempting his rumbling laugh. “Off the

back of a truck in Crown Heights.” His

fingers traced her earlobe, making her

shiver. “He came with me so easily, I

think he knew I was saving him from

slaughter.”

“Chickens are intuitive like that.”

“Yeah?” His voice held a smile.

“What about you? Are you intuitive?”

Her head bumped his chin when she

nodded.

“Then what am I thinking about right

now?”

Since she could feel his hard, jean-

encased length against her thigh, she had

a pretty solid idea. But something about

the moment didn’t feel right for that. He

still seemed distracted by what had

happened with his sister and mother.

“You’re thinking about bagels.”

“Let’s pretend you’re right.”

“Okay.”

Neither one of them moved to get up.

With every moment that passed, every

stroke of his fingers, she grew more and

more tired. After her difficulty sleeping

last night, it was impossible to stop

herself from nodding off. Just before she

faded into unconsciousness, Bowen

whispered into her ear.

“I’m sorry. I think I have to keep you,

Sera.”

CHAPTER TEN

Sera woke to darkness, shooting straight

up in bed. She’d slept so deeply, it took

her a moment to remember everything

from the day. A quick glance at the clock

radio on the side table told her it was

eight o’clock. She flopped back onto the

pillow to give herself a moment to let

the grogginess dissipate. In the mornings,

she never had a problem waking, but she

felt as though she’d just woken from a

coma.

When she shivered, Sera realized she

still wore no shirt. The cold must have

woken her, which meant Bowen had left

only recently. It had felt so good,
too

good, to lie there with him and forget her

responsibilities. She should be ashamed

of how easily it had happened. Sleeping

beside someone meant letting her guard

down. Trusting the other person. She

knew she needed to be more careful, but

the voice of stern caution that usually

spoke from within seemed to silence

itself in his presence.

Was she naive to believe the Bowen

Driscol she’d read about in police files

wasn’t the real man? There was no

denying he’d done terrible things, but her

instincts couldn’t be this far off. He had

good
inside him.

She climbed out of bed in search of

Bowen and found him sitting on the

couch, hands clasped between his knees.

His head came up when he sensed her, a

sad smile moving across his face.

Almost like he’d read every thought

she’d had in the bedroom.

He cleared his throat and gestured to

the wall. “You want to paint?”

“Yes, please.” In addition to being

grateful for the distraction, she couldn’t

deny a spark of excitement. “But I should

warn you, I only have two specialties.”

“Which are?”

“Kitty cats and houses with smoke

curling out of the chimney.” She sat

cross-legged on the floor, surveying the

paintbrushes. “I’m not sure if those will

fit in with your theme.”

He frowned. “What theme?”

Sera ducked her head, feeling

suddenly

uncomfortable

under

his

scrutiny. Was he actually unaware of the

pattern his murals created, or did he just

want to know what she thought? She

picked up a paintbrush and gestured to

the painting of the Brooklyn Bridge, half

intact, half engulfed in flames. “Good

and evil,” she started quietly. “The

battle between the two. Don’t you see

it?”

His gaze tracked around the room, as

if seeing it for the first time. “I never

saw it like that before.” When he looked

back at her, his eyes were serious.

“What side do you think wins?”

Going into this investigation, she

thought she knew the answer, but it

didn’t seem quite so clear anymore. “I

think maybe they both win once in a

while.”

A beat of silence passed before

Bowen broke eye contact, swiping an

impatient hand through his hair. “Listen,

I’ve been a shitty host. You need to eat

something.”

On cue, her stomach groaned. “I could

go for a bagel. Or nine.”

He stood. “Coming right up. Go ahead

and get started.”

“Where?” The word froze on her lips

when she saw a fresh white space on the

wall. Right where the painting of his

mother’s face had been.

“There.”

“Bowen—”

“I want to replace a bad memory.” He

popped her bagel into the toaster and

shot her a devilish grin. “Draw your

cathouse.”

Sera bit her lip to stop a laugh. “I

don’t think we’re on the same page.” She

picked up a container of purple paint and

squirted it onto an ancient-looking

palette, stained with dozens of color

blotches.

Using

a

medium-sized

paintbrush, she stirred the blob of paint.

With a sigh, she stood and approached

the wall.

“A purple cat?”

She jumped a little when he spoke

from right behind her. He’d moved so

quietly. “If you’re already criticizing,

this is going to be a long night.”

“I’m not.” He held the bagel to her

lips, giving her no choice but to bite. His

eyes darkened as she chewed. “Just

wondering about your color choice.”

Feeling self-conscious, she took the

bagel from his hands. “Purple is the

color of royalty. Maybe he’s heir to the

kitty throne.”

“You’re putting some thought into

this.”

She took another bite to save herself

from having to answer. Truthfully, even

though talking to him came naturally, she

was feeling out of her element. Standing

here with this dangerously beautiful man

who brimmed with sexual confidence.

This man, with swollen and lacerated

hands, who held the paintbrush like an

extension of his body, magnetized her

like no other.

The glowing lamplight cast shadows

around the apartment, and the soft sound

of paintbrushes sliding along the wall

was in direct contrast with the tension

visible in Bowen’s face and shoulders.

Unlike her, not all his tension seemed

to be sexual. What took place earlier had

obviously affected him greatly, even if

he tried to put on a good show for her.

She couldn’t help wanting to ease the

burden. As a nurse, she’d been known

for her bedside manner. She’d never had

the ability to remain emotionally

detached when someone was in pain.

She couldn’t leave him suffering in

silence, not with her commitment to heal.

“Is Ruby your only sibling?”

He paused mid-stroke. “I’d rather not