Satisfaction Page 14

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, she felt his lips brush her flushed cheek, gently kissing away the tears, first one side, then the other. He touched his mouth to hers in a kiss that was at once damp, salty, infinitely tender, and heartbreakingly sweet.

  A moment later, he rolled onto his side, capturing her in his arms, bringing her close, spooning around her like a flesh and bone barrier against all the hurts of the world.

  She snuggled into him, her back against the hard wall of his chest. Her body shook with each silent sob she wished she could stop, but the tears continued to form and fall, and finally, she just let them.

  As she quietly cried, Ethan stroked her hair, then bent his head to hers. “I know, Grasshopper,” he whispered. “I know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Use your bed for sleeping and sex, and not necessarily in that order.

  Georgiana Mundy’s Feng Shui for Lovers

  Curled around Georgie’s warm silky body, Ethan dozed off just after daybreak, only to be awakened an hour or so later by the sound of the shower in the adjacent bathroom. He stretched, realized he was hard again, or still hard, either one. Didn’t matter. Smiling to himself, he figured he could fix that.

  He tossed the sheet aside and stood.

  Georgie. Damn. Talk about the best sex he’d ever had in his life. She was so responsive, so wild, he became even more aroused just thinking about how making love to her all night had felt. What it had done to him. Not only physically, but deep inside himself, where he’d fought a six-year battle to keep tenderness out.

  But Georgie had stolen in, and though it should have alarmed him, he found he couldn’t be sorry. In fact, he was feeling damned chipper about it.

  She’d left the door leading to the bathroom slightly ajar. All the invitation he needed.

  Standing behind the mist-smudged glass, she reminded him of a fairy nymph beneath a woodland waterfall, her wet hair a silken veil over her shoulders. The long line of her spine led to the two perfect globes of her butt. His hands itched, remembering.

  Quickly, he peed, then grabbed a condom from the bathroom drawer where he’d found a fresh package last night, thank God. Sucking in a deep breath, he popped open the shower door. She turned, smiled, maybe blushed. It was hard to tell with all the heat and steam.

  As the door snapped closed behind him, he let his gaze slowly wander down her body and back up again. He stepped forward, and their eyes met. Without conscious thought, his hands found their way to her naked breasts, slick with soap, her berry-colored nipples erect against his fingers.

  “Hey,” he murmured.

  “Hey.”

  Lowering his mouth, he whispered, “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  The kiss was wet and hot, deep and erotic. As water pounded against his back, he reached between them, opened the packet, and rolled on the condom. He lifted her, curling her thighs around his hips, and thrust inside her in one easy motion. She sighed, tightening her arms around his neck. He felt her fingers glide through his hair.

  Turning so her back was against the white tile, he continued to move. She murmured words of encouragement, her voice soft and husky. Incredibly aroused, he bent his head to capture her mouth.

  She jerked against him, thrusting her hips. A moment later, her body stilled. As she clung to him, her open mouth pressed to his, he felt her body stiffen as her breathing changed into sharp staccato bursts. So did his own. Suddenly she gripped his hips with her thighs, softly keening his name over and over, as she reached her climax.

  He wanted to eat her up, take her every way he could think of, take her, and take her, and never let it end.

  Holding her hips hard to his groin, he plundered her body. His head fell back to focus on the feel of her all around him, enveloping him, body and soul. He came in a rush of heat and wracking spasms that went on and on and on.

  They were both panting, working to pull in air, as he set his forehead against hers. Under the spray of the steaming water on his shoulders, he opened his eyes and smiled at her, and then he laughed.

  She pulled back a little, a sassy grin on her face, a satisfied gleam in her half-closed eyes. “Maybe you should put me down,” she huffed, obviously still trying to catch her breath, “before you slip on the soap and we both break our necks.”

  He considered it briefly. “Not yet. You feel too good.” They were still mated; he was still inside her, and he didn’t want to break the connection. It had been such a long time since he’d felt so close to someone, to set her down and step away was something he wasn’t prepared to do just yet.

  Her legs wrapped around his hips, they soaped each other and rinsed off, all the while kissing, touching, whispering their likes, their wants, their needs. By the time the shower was over, they were both smiling, squeaky clean, the water had gone cold, and Ethan was starving.

  They padded from the bathroom, towels wrapped around themselves, sleepy grins on their faces.

  “Is that you?” Ethan said, pointing to Georgie’s bag, where a cell phone chirped inside it, like a robin with a pillow over its beak. “A birdcall ring tone?” He arched a brow. He’d heard it before, a week ago, but she’d been in her car, alone.

  Georgie shot him a quick glance, a nervous look, if he was any judge. “Natural sounds are healthy and cheerful,” she said as she scurried over to where the purse sat on an overstuffed chair by the window.

  Digging inside the bag, she pulled out the phone and checked the number. As she flipped it open, she said to Ethan, “Sorry. This won’t take a minute.”

  She licked her lips and tightened the towel around her damp body. Turning away from him, she said softly, “Yeah, hi.”

  Ethan watched the line of her back as he slid his towel from around his hips, dried his hair, then searched around for his clothes. She listened to the caller intently, nodded, mumbled something, but for the most part remained silent.

  He quickly dressed and finger-combed his hair, going about his business as though he weren’t listening intently to her every word, not that there were that many of them.

  She muttered something into the phone, then flipped it closed. For a long time, she simply stood there with her back to him.

  Tucking in his slightly crumpled white shirt, he moved up behind her, slid her hair off her bare shoulder, and placed a kiss there. “You okay?” he probed. “Awfully quiet all of a sudden.” He put his hands on her arms. She was trembling.

  He quickly turned her to face him, and was shocked at how pale she was. All the blood had drained from her cheeks, her eyes were glazed, her full lips the color of paste.

  Alarmed at the abrupt change that had come over her, he bit out, “What in the hell’s wrong?”

  She blinked up at him a couple of times, like she’d never seen him before. The trembling grew worse. She looked to be on the verge of collapse.

  Finally, she seemed to recover herself. “Nothing’s wrong,” she rasped, her eyes too wide, too innocent. “I, um, I have to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Uh, back to town. I need my own car. Or maybe I can rent one. Yeah, I can do that. There’s, um—”

  “Cut the crap, Georgie,” he snapped. Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he squeezed. She averted her gaze. “You’ve been lying to me from the beginning, and now I want the truth. Who was on the phone, and what kind of trouble are you in?”

  She eased out of his grasp, and he let her go. Dropping his hands to his sides, he watched as she pushed past him and went to her suitcase, digging around for a moment, then pulling out some underwear and fresh clothes.

  “There’s no trouble,” she said lightly. “I just have to go, that’s all.”

  “Bullshit.” He snagged her elbow, forcing her to stand in front of him, face him, face down whatever barriers to the truth stood between them. He didn’t want any barriers anymore. He wanted her, and for that to happen, she had to let him in of her own free will. “Tell me.”

  She cleared her throat and
gave him a bland smile. “It doesn’t concern you, Ethan. Please drive me into town so I can rent a car.”

  Sudden anger flared, burned a hole in his gut.

  “You can walk, for all I care. I’m not driving you anywhere until you pull those defenses down and trust me.”

  “Trust you? How can I trust you while you work for the station? You’re being paid to follow me, keep tabs on me, investigate me, for all I know. You’re my bodyguard, not my…not my…”

  “I stopped being your bodyguard the minute we landed in bed, Georgie.” He ran his fingers through his hair. Jesus Christ, what a stubborn woman. “You trusted me to make love to you, to let yourself be as vulnerable to a man as a woman can get, but you can’t tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?”

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Doubling her fists, she slammed them into his chest. Ow. Damn. The woman had some muscle under those curves.

  “We had sex, Ethan!” she cried. “That’s all. Don’t think for a minute it meant anything beyond that. You wanted it. I wanted it. It happened. Now it’s over. We can go back to being—”

  “That’s the lamest, most stereo typical line of bullshit I’ve ever heard!” he shouted. “Surely you can do better than that!” When she only glared up at him, he said, “You really think this didn’t mean anything? What, then—you think I fuck all my clients? Huh? Do you, Georgie?”

  “I don’t know what you do with your clients, and I don’t care! I need to leave. Now! And if you won’t take me, I’ll call a cab!”

  Her words rang inside the room, inside his head. Fury boiled his blood as he fought a close battle with his temper. Did she think she was just some bimbo he’d scored with? Had he said something, done anything to lead her to believe she was just a hot body for the night?

  He’d read the file Lucas had compiled; he knew about her, the facts, anyway. What he wanted was for her to trust him enough to provide the details.

  Like the man said, the beauty—and the pain—was in the details.

  As she scurried into the bathroom, hugging her clothes to her chest and slamming the door, Ethan stood in the center of the room, his hands clenched into tight balls at his side. Okay, now what? Should he drive her back, even though it was obvious she didn’t trust him enough to open up to him?

  He rapped his knuckles against the closed bathroom door, but only as a heads-up. He was going in, whether she wanted him to or not.

  She stood in profile to him as she faced the mirror, brushing her hair. Not so much as sparing him a glance, she said, “You driving me or not, Master Ethan?”

  “I’ll drive you.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned his hip against the doorjamb and let the facts roll around in his head for a moment. He didn’t dare confess what he knew about her, but maybe he could provide her with an opening, and then lure her through it. “I may be just a guy, a little slow on the uptake, but I think I figured it out.”

  For a moment, her brown eyes narrowed, and a flash of something crossed her face. Quickly masking her emotions, she said, “Figured what out?”

  “It’s not that you don’t trust me. I think you do. I think you want to, anyway.”

  She smoothed a little blusher on her pale cheeks. “You’re wrong. Besides, you’re a great one to talk about trust.”

  “What in the hell does that mean?”

  Sending him a meaningful glare, she said, “I think you know exactly what it means. You’re not exactly Mr. Open Book.”

  “What’s happening to you has nothing to do with me.” His hands thrust against his hips, he said, “Regardless, I think you’re dying to trust me. But you’re afraid, if not for yourself, then for someone else.”

  Her hand stilled in midair and she gazed into her own eyes in the oval mirror. Slowly, she let her hand fall, setting the blusher on the black marble sink. “Wrong again, Sherlock. Besides, it’s none of your—”

  “It could be my business, Grasshopper,” he said softly. “Should be. And you know it.”

  She whirled on him, her eyes glittering with fury. “I don’t know any such thing! I slept with you; that doesn’t change our relationship one little bit!”

  “The hell it doesn’t! Georgie, what’s going on? Huh? For Christ’s sake, before you or someone else gets hurt, cut me a little slack and talk to me!” Leaving the threshold, he moved toward her, stopping so close, he could feel the heat radiating from her tense body.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, fighting off the memory of the last time he’d said those words, shoving away the reality of what that request had cost him. It would be different this time, he told himself. This time, he would not fail. “Georgie, look at me.”

  Her shoulders slumped a fraction, and she turned her head toward him. As she lifted her eyes to meet his, he could see the hurt and confusion there, the wanting, the hesitation, and wished to God he knew the words to say to make her understand.

  “What ever burden you’re carrying, Georgie, you’ve been carrying by yourself. I have a broad back, strong hands. Let me share the load. Whatever’s wrong, I can help. I promise.”

  For a long time, she said nothing, just stared into his eyes. It was as though she were searching for some ancient truth, some long-sought-after answer to a barely murmured prayer. Perhaps she was checking for signs of deceit, duplicity, treachery. Even though she had every right to look, she’d find none.

  Outside, a breeze had come up, and he could hear the rustle of eucalyptus leaves through the open window behind her. Somewhere a crow scolded, a train whistle screamed, a man laughed, but Georgie remained silent.

  She lowered her eyes.

  Well, then, Ethan thought. That was that.

  He pursed his lips and gave a sharp jerk of his head, then turned toward the door, anger fusing with disappointment inside his belly. Screw it. He’d drive her back to the city, call Horton, and give him the name of Paladin’s best competitor. After that, he’d never have to see Georgie Mundy or hear her name again.

  Curling his fingers around the knob, he flung the door open, ready to stalk out, when he heard her voice behind him.

  “Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  But he’d heard it, and it stopped him in his tracks. He swung back toward her. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her face a study of uncertainty and pain.

  “It’s okay, Grasshopper,” he urged gently. “Tell me.”

  Licking her lips, she crossed her arms over her body in an ages-old gesture of self-protection. “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “I understand.”

  She shook her head, her mouth a straight line, her jaw tightly clenched. “I’ve never told anyone. Why should I tell you? What proof can you give me that you won’t betray me?”

  He stood before her, facing her squarely. Letting his arms relax at his sides, he sought her gaze, locked on it. “You have only my word.”

  The arch of her brow spoke of her skepticism. “Words can be bought and sold.”

  “Not mine.”

  He waited. She had to decide for herself. He could say nothing now to urge her on. Anything he said, she’d view as coercion or pressure. So he kept his eyes locked on hers, and he waited.

  Minutes passed while they stood facing each other, neither speaking, neither moving. Just when he thought he’d lost the game, she let her arms fall to her sides.

  “I don’t care how big you are,” she said flatly.

  “Or how strong you are, or how many guns you own, or how I feel about you. If you betray me, if you hurt anyone I love, I’ll track you down like a dog and rip your dick off.”

  He swallowed. “Deal.”

  She nodded once. Her shoulders relaxed. Finally, she took a breath. “I…I have this friend,” she said quietly. “In Santa Barbara…”

  Her heartbeat hammering in her ears, Raine Preston fumbled to unlock the front door. Hanging on tightly to the warm bundle draped over her shoulder, she shoved through the threshold, kicked the door closed with her foot, and slid t
he dead-bolt into place with her free hand.

  Was it really him? Had he seen her? Georgie had warned her he might show up in Santa Barbara…

  Quickly laying the sleeping baby down in the playpen by the archway that led to the dining room, Raine ran back into the living room, yanking the front drapes closed.

  After a quick look to see that Caroline was okay, she scurried into the kitchen to make sure the back door lock was secure.

  Methodically, she went from room to room, testing windows, pulling curtains closed. She felt queasy, and her head ached. With rubbery legs, she made her way back to check on the baby. Only when she saw the long lashes fanning Caroline’s rosy cheeks, the drooly mouth, pouting in sleep, did she let herself relax.

  Slumping into the chair next to the playpen, she rubbed her temples and tried to make herself believe she hadn’t really seen Paul Corcoran staring at her through the crowded farmers’ market. Still, it had frightened her enough to call Georgie.

  She shook her head. It was him, had to have been. After all, Georgie had seen him, too, but that was in San Francisco, three hundred and fifty miles away. Had he followed Georgie to Santa Barbara last weekend? Had he come looking for Raine?

  Doubling her fists, she put them to her eyes and rubbed. Should she call the police, just in case? And if she did, what would she tell them?

  Her white Taurus still stood in the driveway; she needed to pull it into the garage behind the house and bring in the groceries before they spoiled. But to do that, she’d have to risk going outside, risk being vulnerable.

  If Paul had followed her home…

  A person’s blood really did run cold in fear, she decided, rubbing her arms despite the wilting August heat.

  Georgie had promised to come, she was on her way, but it would take her hours to get to Santa Barbara from…where had she been? Napa?

  Rising from the chair, she went to the front window and eased the curtain aside just enough to peek out at the quiet street. It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday, but few people were out walking. Occasionally, a car would drive by, but this part of town was relatively exclusive, quiet, not a lot of foot or automobile traffic. Most of the people Raine saw regularly were her neighbors, though she didn’t know any of them well. Because neither she nor Georgie knew how far Vaughn Corcoran’s hands reached, by design she really didn’t know anyone in town well.