When We Met (11 page)

He surged forward, willing the boat to go faster. The bow had barely touched land before he was out and running toward her. She stood in place, her face pale, her arms tight across her chest. She was dry, he noted as he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice harsh and loud. “You could have been killed. You don't know what you're doing. Why didn't you grab my hand? Goddammit, that's all you had to do.”

* * *

T
ARYN
KNEW
IN
her head that eventually the shaking would stop. The adrenaline would fade and she would be able to breathe and talk and think. But right now there was only trembling and the exhaustion left behind as the fear slowly drained away.

Angel glared at her, his fury tangible. She wasn't afraid of him—she understood she'd scared him. She'd scared herself. When the water had captured her, she'd wondered if she was going to drown on a stupid river in some backwoods wilderness outside Fool's Gold.

She'd fought to stay in control of her kayak. She'd learned that much from the videos she'd watched on YouTube. She'd tried to point the bow in the direction she was going—sort of like coming out of a skid in her car. Only the river had been way more powerful and she'd been swept away.

Once she'd rounded the second bend, the water had slowed and she'd been able to paddle to shore. What had seemed like a lifetime had probably taken thirty seconds. Now she was left with the physical aftermath and the terrified, angry man standing in front of her.

“Dammit, don't you trust me?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together. “I want to,” she managed, her voice only trembling a little. “But I can't.”

He dropped his hands to his sides and stared at her. She read confusion and what might have been pain. Because he wouldn't understand. He would think it was personal. That she didn't trust
him,
when in truth, she didn't trust anyone.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

He turned away. “No problem. Let me figure out where we are. I'll get the guy to meet us with the trailer and we'll get out of here. You can go home.”

He was dismissing her. Dismissing them. Gone was the teasing, sexy man who had intrigued and delighted her. And while she hadn't been looking for a happily ever after, she had wanted to keep seeing Angel. To learn more about him. She'd wanted to make love with him and spend time with him. She'd wanted to laugh and talk, because being with him was both challenging and easy.

She wasn't ready for this to be over.

He pulled out his cell and checked for a signal. After he shook his head, he walked to his kayak and pushed it higher on the shore. He removed the cooler containing their lunch and another small box. Inside was a more complex-looking phone. Probably the kind that worked off a satellite rather than a cell tower, she thought.

He began to dial.

“Stop,” she said. “Just stop.”

He raised his head.

She hugged herself more tightly. The shaking had faded, but the adrenaline lingered. She felt weak and scared but also empowered. She'd survived. Wasn't that the good news? She'd survived and this wasn't the first time the odds had been against her.

She raised her chin and drew in a breath. “My dad was a mean drunk. When I was little he went on binges every few months. When he did, he beat the crap out of my mom and me, but mostly her. Sometimes he just bruised her and sometimes he put her in the hospital. We lived in Los Angeles. There are a lot of hospitals, so she always saw a different doctor. She didn't tell anyone what had really happened and no one else put the pieces together.”

Angel dropped the satellite phone back into the box and watched her. She tried to figure out what he was thinking but couldn't. She knew there was no point in trying. If he didn't want her to know what was in his head, there was no way she could guess. Better to simply get it all out while she could.

“He didn't hit me much,” she continued, switching her attention to the ground. That was better, she thought. Safer. Dirt and old leaves, a few branches. “At least not at first. But when I was ten, she left. I came home from school and she was gone.”

Taryn remembered the shock of going through their small house and seeing all her mother's things were missing. It was as if she'd never been there at all. She'd been crying when her father had walked in the door. She'd gone to him, expecting comfort.

“That was the first night he beat me,” she said quietly. “I was terrified. I knew what he was capable of. I knew what was going to happen next.”

“How often?” Angel asked.

She kept her attention on the dirt below. “A couple times a month. Mostly he bruised me, but every now and then it was worse and I had to go to the emergency room. As I got older, it was easier. If the doctor guessed I hadn't fallen down the stairs, I said it was my boyfriend.”

She swallowed, remembering the pain, the humiliation. Trying to disguise how much she was hurting.

“I ran away when I was fifteen. He found me in a day and dragged me back home. Then he beat me until I couldn't walk and tied me to my bed for nearly a week. He said if I ran away again, he'd find me and kill me. I believed him.”

There were so many other things to say, she thought. How her father was well liked by the neighbors. How he wasn't one of those crazy men who went ballistic over unwashed dishes in the sink. That he'd never sexually abused her and didn't keep track of whether or not she'd done her homework. That when he didn't drink he watched sports and mowed the lawn and went to church. But when he went on a binge, he turned into the devil.

“When I was nearly seventeen, he was up on the roof, repairing some shingles. He asked me to bring him a box of nails.” She remembered that she'd felt safe because she didn't think he was drinking. It was still early on a Saturday morning. He had plans with his friends to go to a Dodgers game later. So she knew everything was going to be all right.

She'd climbed the ladder with the nails. But as she'd reached the top, she'd seen the beer bottles next to her father. The fear had been instinctive. She hadn't known what to do and her indecision had made her start to slip.

She remembered screaming. She remembered trying to stay on the ladder, and she remembered reaching out her hand to her father. So he could catch her.

He'd reached out, but instead of grabbing her hand or her wrist, he'd picked up his beer bottle and taken a long drink. Then she'd fallen to the ground and had landed hard on her arm. She'd both felt and heard the break.

Their neighbor across the street had seen the fall and had insisted on taking Taryn to the hospital. The woman, older and a widow, had stayed with her, claiming to be an aunt. Later, when Taryn's arm had been put in a cast, the woman—Lena—had given Taryn five hundred dollars in cash.

This is your chance,
Lena had told her.
Disappear, child. Disappear before he kills you.

Taryn had stared at her.
You know?

We all know. But we're as afraid of him as you are. Go while you can. Go and never come back.

Taryn returned to the present and gave Angel the bare facts of that final day.

“I did what she said. I disappeared. I hitchhiked to San Francisco and got a series of low-paying jobs that barely supported me. Every week, I went to the library and read the paper. One day there was an article about a man who'd shot himself in the head. He was my father.”

The rest of the story was easier to tell. How she'd returned to Los Angeles and gotten her GED. How she'd worked her way through college. That money had been tight and every couple of semesters she'd had to take off to save up enough to pay for her tuition. How she'd made do with tattered books other students had thrown away.

She finally looked at him and was grateful to see that his expression was just as unreadable as it had been when she'd started.

“No one knows,” she admitted. “Not Jack, not anyone. I just say my parents are dead. I don't know if that's true about my mom. I never tried to find her. Why would I? She left me alone with a monster when I was ten. She knew what was going to happen and she left me.”

She paused to push down the emotion that threatened. Because she'd learned there were some places she could never go. Not if she wanted to be strong. If she let herself think about the past, ask too many questions, she was never going to make it.

So she'd ignored her past and had only looked forward. She'd gotten tough and learned to survive on her own. Until one day when a handsome football player had found her eating leftover sandwiches as if they were the only food she'd had in three days.

She drew in a breath. “That's why I didn't reach out my hand. I couldn't. Not because of you, but because of him.”

Angel stared at her. “I understand,” he said at last.

He walked toward her. When he reached her, he put his arms around her and hauled her against him. He held her so tight she couldn't breathe, but that was okay. She wanted to be close. She wanted to be held. And when the tears came, she didn't try to stop them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
ARYN
WASN
'
T
SURE
how long she stood in Angel's strong embrace. The steady beat of his heart comforted her. He was warm and solid and she knew in her gut he would never hit anyone weaker than himself. He wasn't like her dad. Few men were. But the scars ran deep.

Angel straightened enough to wipe her face, and then he lowered his head and kissed her. His mouth was soft against hers. Comforting, she thought. He wanted the kiss to be comforting. But the second she felt his lips on hers, she wanted something else. Something more.

She shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck and raised herself on tiptoe. She pressed against him and parted her mouth. Heat poured through her and left her hungry. Need followed. She tilted her head and lightly swept her tongue across his bottom lip.

Instantly his entire body changed. She felt the tension of his muscles and the slight hesitation, as if he wasn't sure. Because he didn't want to upset her or take advantage of her, she thought.

She drew back and looked at him. “You pick this moment to act like a gentleman?” she asked as she shrugged out of her life jacket.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. Without speaking, he walked over to the kayak and pulled what looked like a blanket out of the small hold. Probably for their picnic, she thought. How convenient.

As she watched, he let his life jacket drop to the ground. He unlaced his boots and stepped out of them. She felt a whisper of disappointment. So they were going to be civilized about this, she thought. Somehow she'd hoped for something more than each undressing, followed by a pleasant and polite round of sex.

She knew she was still emotional from what had happened on the river and her confession, but jeez, why did it have to be like this? Where was the passion? Why couldn't she find a man who was swept away and—

He stopped in front of her. “You sure?”

She sighed, then nodded.

He reached for her and drew her against him, then he lowered his head and claimed her. Only there was nothing polite about the kiss. It was hot and deep and caught her completely off guard. His tongue plunged into her mouth and circled hers, making her wiggle closer.

His arms came around her, but he wasn't holding on. Instead he was moving his hands up and down her body as if he needed to discover every inch of her that second. As if he couldn't get enough. He was nearly frantic as fingers and palms traced her back, her rear, her hips.

Desire resurrected itself, heating her body and making it easy not to think. She wanted to feel, she thought as she relaxed into his kiss. She wanted to only feel. His hands, his body—all of him and all of her. She wanted to get lost in what they could do to each other.

He tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. She raised her arms so he could pull it off. Seconds later, her bra followed. He cupped her breasts, exploring the soft skin with his fingers before settling on her nipples. He rubbed the tight peaks, rolling the hard points between thumbs and forefingers. Pleasure shot through her, forming a direct line from her breasts to her groin. Muscles tightened as flesh swelled.

She reached for his shirt. He drew back enough to pull it over his head and toss it away. His bare chest was broad with rippling muscles and at least half a dozen scars. Scars she would explore later, she thought, leaning in and kissing the center of his breastbone.

He gave her a quick, wolfish smile before dropping to one knee and unfastening her boots. He pulled them off. Still kneeling, he undid her jeans and pulled them down with a single tug that brought her thong along with them. He steadied her as she stepped out of them.

Taryn had the brief thought that she was now naked in the forest. She didn't know where they were or how close they were to the road. Or even if the guy with the kayak trailer was going to show up any second. Then she decided she didn't care. She wanted whatever was going to happen with Angel and the consequences be damned.

She waited for him to stand up, but he didn't. Instead he put his arm around her and drew her close. He reached for the tender folds of flesh protecting her feminine center and parted them. She barely had time to brace herself before he gave her an openmouthed kiss that had her gasping.

The first stroke of his tongue explored. The second found her clit and the third had her hanging on to his shoulders to keep from falling.

There was no dignified way to stand barefoot while a man sucked and licked her to orgasm, she thought as she parted her legs more and dug her fingers into his shoulders. And she didn't care. She let her eyes close and her head fall back as she gave herself over to the stroking.

He circled her steadily. Every third or fourth time he went a tiny bit faster and harder. He reached for her hands and positioned them so she was holding herself open for him. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and every now and then he ran his tongue across the very tip of her fingers.

Her leg muscles began to tremble. Her breasts ached as every part of her focused on what he was doing to her. Tension grew, pushing her toward the ultimate goal. He cupped her ass with one hand and dug into her skin with kneading fingers. He ran the other up the inside of her thigh and pushed two fingers deep into her.

The invasion was exquisite. She wanted to sink onto him, drawing him in deeper, but she couldn't move. She was already barely standing—her legs spread, her thighs shaking, and still he moved his tongue against her.

She was getting closer. So close, she thought, her breath coming in gasps. A few more strokes.

“Angel,” she gasped.

He pushed his fingers into her, then withdrew. Again and again. She was getting there. She could practically see it.

Then he stopped. All of it. His fingers went still, his tongue wasn't moving. There was nothing. She hung there, her body ready, but with no way to—

He pressed his lips to her clit and sucked hard. At the same moment, he pushed into her, curling his fingers toward her front, finding her G-spot and rubbing the swollen middle. She came without warning, trembling and gasping, calling out, afraid she would fall but unable to do anything but let him take her over the edge again and again.

The last shudder had barely rippled through her when he drew back. He grabbed her and then she was being lowered to the blanket on the ground. She was shaky and unfocused. There was movement. She was vaguely aware of Angel tearing off clothes. His jeans landed by her hip. She fingered the soft, worn fabric and wondered when she'd last felt so incredibly satisfied.

Then he was between her thighs. He filled her with one smooth push. She went from hazy to interested in a heartbeat. Her eyes snapped opened. Angel was over her, pushing into her again.

She could see his face, his shoulders, his passion-filled eyes and she smiled. This was going to be good.

He didn't disappoint. The man had control and style. He found a rhythm and depth that touched the very core of her. Just when she was about to relax into the sensations, he shifted slightly and had her chasing to keep up. He pumped slow, then fast, then slow again. She was wet, swollen and surging toward another release.

Just as she was about to wrap her legs around him to draw him in, he somehow flipped them both so he was on his back and she was on top.

She wiggled a little to find a comfortable place on his erection. She unfastened her ponytail and shook her head so her hair hung loose around them. After bracing her hands on either side of his shoulders, she smiled at him and began to move.

“Think you're in control?” he asked as she slowly, so slowly, slid up and down.

“I know I am.”

One eyebrow rose. He cupped her breasts, then touched the very tip of her nipples. The light, teasing brush made her insides clench and had her hips pumping a little faster. He massaged her breasts. After her last orgasm every part of her was more sensitive and she found it difficult to remember she was trying to hold back. Because honestly, what was the point? Angel was naked and hard and inside her.

He continued to rub her breasts, his gaze locked with hers.

“Come for me.”

The command was unexpected and sexy and dammit all to hell if her body didn't start to tremble as a climax washed through her. She rode him up and down, unable to stop herself from going faster and grinding deeper, pulling every ounce of pleasure from the lovemaking.

Angel dropped his hands to her hips, guiding her as she slid over him. When she was finally surfacing again, he pushed in deep one last time and shuddered his own release.

* * *

“W
HAT
ARE
THE
odds of you eating lunch naked?” Angel asked when he and Taryn had washed up in the frigid water. He already knew the answer, but figured a man couldn't be judged for inquiring.

He was a guy—he enjoyed looking at the female body. Taryn was tall and lean. He liked her small, perky breasts. Her nipples were slightly oversize and seemed to always be hard. Talk about arousing. Having her long hair play peekaboo with her nipples added to the show. Her legs were long, her pubic area trimmed but not waxed—just the way he preferred.

She looked from the pile of clothes they'd scattered around, to the lunch cooler, then back to him.

“Sure,” she said, and dropped to the blanket.

All right!

He got the cooler and passed out sandwiches. There were also bottles of water and cut fruit. Taryn sat cross-legged and reached for one of the sandwiches.

He stared at her. She was totally naked. Her hair partially covered her breasts, but not enough to keep them from being a distraction. Worse, with her legs like that, he could see
all
of her. She was still damp and swollen and he felt himself getting aroused.

She bit into the sandwich, chewed and swallowed. Her mouth twitched. “Is there a problem?”

He swore, grabbed her sandwich and tossed it into the cooler, then bent over her and began kissing his way down her chest.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused, just before he licked her nipple.

“I only did what you asked.”

“Because you knew what would happen.”

“Did I?” she asked with a laugh as she wrapped her arms around him.

* * *

M
ONDAY
MORNING
T
ARYN
walked from her car to the company offices. Across the street the basketball game was in full swing. She paused to watch the action and felt a tiny tug of regret when she saw Angel was on the shirts team. Too bad, because the man looked good without clothes.

They'd managed to make love again, get dressed and eat lunch before their ride found them. Angel had spent the rest of the weekend at her place, mostly in her bed. They'd talked about everything but what had happened and what she'd told him. She had a feeling he would never bring up the topic of her father again.

But it was enough that one other person knew the truth.

She walked into her office and turned on her computer. As she set down her tote, she saw a plain white envelope with her name on the front. She opened it and found a note from Angel.

“Because we never talked about it.” The paper underneath was a copy of a blood test from only a few months before.

Taryn sank onto her chair. Other lovers had sent flowers or jewelry after a weekend with her. Some gave her clothes or tickets for island getaways. But this—this was special. Thoughtful, just like the man himself. Angel took care of people.

She was on the pill, so pregnancy wasn't an issue. But they hadn't used a condom until they got to her place. She'd thought they would have to have an awkward conversation, but he'd handled the situation.

She tucked the note and the blood test into a side pocket of her tote, then unloaded the paperwork she'd never gotten to. She had plenty to keep her busy, she reminded herself. There was no time to swoon over a man. Still, Angel seemed very swoon-worthy. And someone she could almost trust.
Almost
being the key word.

Sometime around ten, Larissa walked into her office with two mugs of coffee.

“How's it going?” her friend asked.

Taryn winced. “I have an appointment with Mayor Marsha this afternoon. I get to explain to an old lady why she needs to change the town's slogan. I'm not looking forward to it.”

Larissa set one of the coffee mugs on Taryn's desk, then settled in the visitor's chair. “How was your weekend?”

“Good, yours?”

“I went to a conference in Sacramento.”

“Greenpeace?”

“No, but it was on animal rescue and preservation.” Larissa leaned forward. “What do you know about marmosets?”

Taryn shook her head. “No.”

“But they're adorable.”

“No. Don't even think about it. No monkeys. Not here and not at your apartment. No.”

“But...”

“No. I mean it, Larissa. Don't go there. We'll all regret it.”

* * *

“Y
OU
SHOULD
BE
happy I'm coming with you,” Jack said as they drove through town.

“That remains to be seen,” Taryn grumbled, not sure how she ended up having to be the one to talk to Mayor Marsha about the town slogan. Although it wasn't as if she could have let Kenny and Jack go by themselves. Heaven only knew what they would have said.

He parked his Mercedes in front of City Hall and walked around to help her out of the car. As he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her up the steps, she had to admit that for all her complaints about the boys, they were basically good men with nice manners. Even better, they respected women, paid their bills on time and in Jack's case, put up with Larissa's craziness.

“By the way,” she said. “If Larissa says anything about a marmoset, tell her no.”