Super Trouble (5 page)

“How
about a partner?” she pressed against his hold, another inch closer and he
fought to focus on what she was saying.

“Partner?”

“I
could use a partner. Someone big and bad who I could trust to always have my
back. I still trust you, Frost.” Her hands moved, up to the crease of his
thighs and along the sides of his abdomen—never touching where he was burning.

“You
shouldn’t.”

She
cocked her head to the side. “Shouldn’t trust you?” she repeated—though he
wasn’t sure that’s what he’d been referring to. “You’re probably right, but
I’ve always been stupid where you’re concerned. We proved that pretty
thoroughly five years ago, didn’t we?”

“Kim…”
He caught her hands, pressing them together between his own against his chest. He
made his touch icy cold and she gasped, a shiver rippling over her shoulders,
her nipples beading hard against the thin material of her shirt.
Sweet
Jesus.
“Stop. I don’t work with a partner.”

“Are
you sure about that? We’d make a good team. I’m not helpless anymore.”

Now
that he wasn’t holding her shoulders away from him, she pressed even closer,
the heat of her intoxicating as she inhaled deeply, breathing him in.

“You
were never helpless.” For all she called herself a victim, she’d never been
that. She was a fighter who never gave up, even though the whims of nature had
given others super advantages over her for so long.

“Of
course I was,” she insisted. “That’s why you left me, wasn’t it? At least
that’s the reason you gave in your note.”

“What?
That wasn’t—”

“Oh,
I know. You didn’t want to endanger me. You were protecting me—because I wasn’t
strong enough to protect myself if someone came after me.”

He
opened his mouth to argue. It had
never
been a case of her not being
enough for him in any way. It was him who hadn’t been good enough, strong
enough, fast enough to protect
her
, not the other way around. But Kim
didn’t give him a chance to get a word in.

“I
get why you bailed then, but I’m a badass now.” She wrinkled her nose. “Admittedly,
you caught me tonight, but you’re
Frost freaking Nightwing
, the
Enforcer. You can catch anyone. If it hadn’t been you, I would have stomped all
over the opposition with my new badassery.”

She
used a quick pulse of TK to break his hold on her hands, as if reminding them
both of what she could do now. Once she was free, she pressed closer again,
putting her hands on the outsides of his knees, where they were spread around
her hips.

“I
always hated the idea of someone rushing into danger to save me because I was
too weak, but now I can rescue myself. I’m tough. No more endangering others
for me. Kim Carruthers is never going to be bait in a super trap ever again.”

No,
she wasn’t bait. She was temptation. A temptation he’d conditioned himself to
resist for the last five years. He rested his hand over hers on his knee,
because he couldn’t resist that one touch before he had to leave.

“I
should go.”

That
summer storm anger flashed instantly in her eyes. “That sounds familiar.”

“Kim…”

She drew
away from him, leaving him feeling suddenly, strangely chilled—he who never
noticed the cold. She crossed to her door, leaning against the wall beside it
with her arms folded tightly. “Well? Go on. Time for the famous Frost Nightwing
exit. At least this time I’m awake to see it.”

He
cringed—okay, maybe leaving just a note had been cowardly, but he’d known she
would argue and he’d known that he would never be able to leave her if she
asked him to stay. So he’d done the cowardly thing, just that once. He
straightened from his perch on the back of the couch. “I’m sorry about that—”

“Apologies
don’t count after
five years
, Frost. They have about a six month
shelf-life and then you’re just irrevocably an asshole, no matter how you beg.”

He
grimaced. “Fair enough.”

He
crossed to the door, feeling inexplicably like she was kicking him out when he
was the one who’d suggested he should leave. He’d screwed up again. She’d gone
from being so warm and easy in his arms to rigid and unyielding beside the
door. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to play out.

Not
that he’d let himself think about how it would play out. He hadn’t even let
himself think her
name
until he saw her, and then all he could think of
was how wrong it was that he didn’t know this new version of Kim. How natural
it was to protect her—even from herself. And how badly he wanted the right to
touch her. But he’d burned away all those rights five years ago with a goddamn
note.

She
was a favor owed now. Nothing more. He needed to remember that.

“Stay
out of trouble, okay?” His fingers itched to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear,
but she looked like if he put his hand anywhere near her face she’d happily
bite it off. “And stay away from Vic Peccorino.”

“Whatever
you say, boss.” The door opened, seemingly of its own volition, but he knew her
TK was responsible. “See you in another five years.”

He
growled—actually growled like an animal before he caught himself and hauled his
wayward emotions back under control. Only Kim ever made him lose his cool. So
it was best for everyone concerned if he didn’t see her. Frost needed to be the
iceman. He needed his chilled reserve to do his job effectively and Kim could
burn it away with a single look. His personal kryptonite. And his only
temptation.

He
walked through the open door and didn’t look back until he heard it lock behind
him.

Kim
Carruthers. Damn. She was so different and yet it seemed she hadn’t changed a
bit. The only woman who’d ever turned his heart into a searing flame. Nothing
but trouble.

****

Kim
hugged her arms to her chest, reminding herself to breathe normally.

Frost
Nightwing had been here.
Here
. In her apartment. He should have left the
room cold—his demeanor had certainly been cold enough to frost her carpet—but
she felt impossibly hot. Stupidly feverish.

When
he’d made his fingers like ice…
Holy Moses
, she’d almost forgotten how
erotic that was, like ice cubes trailing over lust-heated flesh. The
alternating hot and cold of his warm mouth and frost-kissed breath moving over
her skin…

She
shivered, sliding down the wall to puddle on the floor beside the door.

Frost
Nightwing. Still as sexy as ever. Still as coolly distant as an avenging angel,
watching the world from his moral high ground. But he’d never been inhuman with
her. Not until the day he walked away without a backward glance.

She
gritted her teeth.
Pull it together, Kim.
So what if she’d seen Frost? Big
deal. Tonight didn’t change anything.

She
hadn’t done anything illegal.
Yet
. And even what she was planning wasn’t
drastic enough to call the Bogeyman down on her. He wouldn’t even have come
looking for her if Captain Justice hadn’t tried to be all noble and called in
an intervention. The goddamn heroes certainly had an overabundance of nosy
nobility.

Well,
they could just keep their noses out of it. She was going to talk to Little
Vic. Just talk.
And maybe scare him a little
. They couldn’t arrest her
for that.
Much
.

It
wasn’t vengeance. It was a story. And Kim Carruthers always got to the bottom
of a story.

Chapter
Six: Ex Boyfriend Confab

Frost
delayed until around noon the next day before placing the call. He’d known that
he needed to let Justice know how things had gone with Kim, but he’d taken a
night to relive every moment of their encounter—and envision several very
naughty variations that could easily have occurred—before he was ready to
report to her other ex.

There’d
always been a strange edge to his dealings with Justice. The mix of fierce,
irrational jealousy and deep, abiding gratitude that the other man had looked
after Kim didn’t exactly make for a close friendship. Especially since Justice
had no idea Kim had ever dated another super.

He
answered on the first ring. “Frost?”

“You
were right. She was going after Little Vic.”

Justice
cursed, long and low. “Is he still alive?”

Frost
frowned at the question. “I got to her before she could confront him. Besides,
I don’t think she’s quite that bloodthirsty.”

Justice
snorted. “You don’t know her like I do.”

No,
I know her better, apparently.
As soon as Kim had said she only wanted answers, not blood, Frost had
recognized the truth in the statement. He was well acquainted with the darkness
in his own soul and with identifying it in supers who had gone bad. Kim was
ruthless in her pursuit of a story, but she wasn’t a killer. Not even close. Justice
was wrong about that.

“She
promised to stop stalking Little Vic.” Though he hadn’t been fool enough to
believe her. She was still chasing her story.

“You’re
kidding. Do you think she really will?” Justice asked, proving he did know her
at least a little—which irritated Frost.

“Probably
not,” he admitted—there was no point in prevaricating with Justice. The man was
a human lie-detector. “But I’ll keep an eye on her for a few more days.”

“Until
you get called away on a real hunt. I understand. Thanks for doing this, Frost.
I owe you big.”

“No
problem,” Frost grunted—keep it simple. That was how you avoided getting caught
deceiving Justice. And it did feel like deception, letting the man think this
was all a favor. That Frost didn’t really owe him for all the times he’d saved
Kim. Of course, he wouldn’t have had to save her all those times if he hadn’t
put her in danger by dating her in the first place.

“Hey,
Justice,” he said when the other super would have hung up. “Did you ever worry
that you were endangering her by being with her? That all those times she was
kidnapped were really your fault?” And not some conspiracy of villains like Kim
seemed to think.

Justice
gave a short, sharp laugh. “Are you kidding? Kim Carruthers would run headfirst
into danger every day of the week and twice on Sundays if it meant she got the
story. She was going to be in trouble no matter who she dated. At least when
she was with me one or two of the bad guys thought twice before they grabbed her,
and the others knew better than to hurt her because I would come for them if
they did.”

“And
now that she doesn’t have your protection?” Frost asked, a little more sharply
than he’d intended after Justice decimated his entire rationale for staying
away from Kim with a single sharp laugh. “Now that she’s very publicly not
yours anymore?” Mirage and Justice hadn’t exactly been subtle about their fledgling
relationship.

“She’s
super now. And a pretty fierce one, from what I hear. Eisenmann said he’s never
seen a telekinetic with her raw power. Anyone who tangles with her now is on
their own.”

“Even
supers aren’t invulnerable,” Frost argued. “Don’t you worry about Mirage?”

“Of
course I do,” Justice said, in that same easy, carefree way that made Frost
want to punch him for not being more consumed by worry. “No one is invincible—no
matter how close supers can come to that. Anyone—super or not—could get hit by
a bus tomorrow. That doesn’t mean you don’t love them just because you can’t
protect them from every danger in the universe.”

That’s
exactly what you do
.
At least, it was what Frost tried to do. He loved his family and had been
raised knowing that all of them were targets because of their roles as famous
supers. Tandy—who had never known about her power or how to use it—had been
especially vulnerable. When she’d been abducted recently he’d been ready to rip
apart the world to get her back—and that was just his little sister. If he’d
let himself love Kim—all the way, the way he knew he could—he’d go nuclear if
anything ever happened to her.

“Do
you ever worry that if something happens to Mirage, you’ll, I don’t know, lose
it?”

“Of
course I will.”

The
answer was too flip. Too pat. “Would you avenge her?”

“Go
villain you mean? I’d like to think I wouldn’t. That isn’t me. But it’s hard to
say.”

For
Frost it wasn’t hard. He could see himself crossing that line so easily. It was
in him. He’d known it five years ago and he knew it now.

“What’s
this about?” Justice asked. “Is the legendary Enforcer falling in love?”

“No,”
he said, not caring that Justice would hear the edge of a lie. He’d never
stopped loving her.

Chapter
Seven: The Villain America Loves to Hate