An Eye for Danger (29 page)

"Fuck," he muttered into the phone as he returned his gun to its usual spot. "He's gonna sit there all night, too. Look, PD's gone south far as I'm concerned. Let's keep this between us for now... Agreed, but that taxi could've blown us, brought down a hailstorm." Sam paused and looked my way. "I said I'd take the heat for this. I'll take the heat for the whole goddamn mess. Don't worry." Sam grunted. "Acknowledged. Holler when they leave. Coffee break, piss break, change of guard, I don't care. Just get us out of here."

The next move was classic Sam. He buried the phone in his pocket, flushed the tension from his face, and faced me brimming with confidence. "Good news. Raul's not alone anymore. Bad news is The Prick's got uniforms parked at front and back exits."

Glancing around the candlelit room, I laughed. "I've been trapped in worse places." I stationed myself near the fireplace, pulled the throw over my shoulders, and waited for orders.

"When we get the all clear, I'll get us out of here. I promise."

"You need to make fewer promises, Sam. At least to me."

He nodded in silence, staring at the thick curtains pulled closed in front of his face. With his raw knuckles he brushed the velvet, and I could feel the ghost of his fingers on my cheek.

"You need the truth?" he asked, his cocky detective voice defused. "'Cause I'll give it to you if you ask me."

For a second, I hesitated to pursue. Only a masochist would dive deeper into this hornets' nest. But 'know more, risk more' wasn't so much a life slogan for me as a headstone epithet. "Of course I want the truth," I said. "Especially now."

He moved closer, leaving the armchair between us. Though Sam looked me in the eye, I could see his mind categorizing which information to reveal, which to stow deeper. The truth. Sure, but only in measured doses.

"We heard chatter," he started. "About the park. A witness. You're too important to the case, Boss said, so last week he reassigned me to watch you. He'd no idea I'd already relocated here. We knew Troy survived the accident at the deli, but I couldn't tell you. I couldn't worry you like that, not after all the shit I'd put you through. But I couldn't risk leaving you unprotected either. So I stayed. With or without Command's approval, I wasn't abandoning you." Sam looked to me and winced. "Do you get it now? Being here isn't just my job, Jules, it's my choice."

"Oh, I get it." I got to my feet, tossed the blanket onto the chair in front of him. "Loud and clear, I get it. Your key witness is in imminent danger, but nobody takes her into protective custody. No, that would defeat the purpose. After all, why hunt Troy down when he'll come to you. So Boss puts you on guard duty. To watch. How convenient to have fresh bait."

"That's not what he meant."

"That's exactly what he meant, Sam. You leave a target on the street if you want to root out your enemy. In combat they call that standard operating procedure. And you succeeded."

"Christ. I wasn't baiting any—" Sam stopped short before finishing an outright lie. "Fine, I trapped Stone, but only to see if his interest in you was personal or professional. That's all. Troy's location was unknown."

"But mine wasn't." I glared at him. "You could have moved me weeks ago."

Shoving the guilt knife deeper into Sam's gut only made my stomach wrench. I felt as low as Max, whose head was on his paws, his eyes bouncing between our tennis match. By now he'd probably agree to let Sam win custody. Mom was turning out to be a real bitch.

"Maybe you should have left me after all," I said, standing down.

Sam fisted the air and squeezed his eyes shut. "Christ. I just wanted to be near you. Why do you always have to be so goddamn difficult about it? Just because you've checked out, you think no one else has a right to give a shit about you."

Sirens outside caught Sam's attention and he revisited the window. By the time the vehicles had driven into the distance and their alarms faded, so had my strength to fight him.

"I'll take the couch," I said.

Sam gripped the back of the armchair, his fingers indenting the leather. "Stay," he said, his voice tamped down again, so I thought he was talking to Max, but his focus lasered on me. "Stay with me tonight."

I scoffed. "Didn't think the rabbit got a choice."

"You know what I mean. Be straight with me."

"Like you've been straight with me? I'm no pro, Sam, but that call didn't exactly sound by the book to me."

"Nothing's by the book now. And no, I can't tell you why." He stepped around the chair. "Look, I know it's not fair, but you need to trust—"

"No, I don't need to trust you. You screwed up my life. Everything was fine till you came along. My life was fine. Until you."

When I realized I was clutching the front of my robe, I let go. God, I truly was crazy. Stark raving mad, because of him, for him. Yet I stiffened on his approach.

"No. No touching, Sam. That's what gets us into trouble."

"Stay with me."

I pinched the flesh between my eyes, hardening myself against the timbre of his voice.

"Stay."

"Why, so you can leave me again? I don't even know you, but every time you walk out that door my guts get ripped out." I braced an arm over my stomach.

"You know me, Jules." Sam's warm hands settled on my waist as his cheek pressed to my temple. "You know me," he whispered. "And all I know is the further I get away from you, the worse I feel. But being near you... Life hasn't felt this good for a long time, Jules. A long time."

I couldn't swallow, couldn't speak; I wanted Sam's touch so badly it was choking me.

My fists fell open on his chest and I nodded hopelessly. He deepened our embrace till I wasn't resisting him anymore.

Then he pulled back, looked me in the eye. "Need to show you something."

At the window, he held back the curtain just enough for me to see Stone's Crown Vic on the corner, its sparkle unmistakable under the street lamps.

"But I saw him drive away," I said.

"And I just watched him circle the block. Again." Sam hugged me from behind, his chin on my shoulder. "Stone's been patrolling for the last hour, along with two unis. Nearly caught my partner removing Troy. I don't trust him, and I don't want you to trust him."

"The man's got a crush, that's all."

"That man's not capable of a crush. There's always more with Stone."

"But I chose you." I drew his arms tighter around me, and his lips brushed the curve of my jaw.

"I mean he could be involved, Jules. Raul may have led Troy here, but only me and Stone knew you went out tonight."

Now I was the one releasing the dramatic sigh. I chafed at the thought of an innocent man accused because of me. Lord only knew what Sam would do to Stone, considering the beating he'd given Troy.

"Remember how he looked into my background?" I asked, and Sam hummed at my ear. "He thought because of the painkillers, and the alcohol, and the accident... he thought that maybe I was, you know. Suicidal."

Sam jerked back. "Are you?" Thankfully, I couldn't see the expression that matched Sam's tense arms.

"You tell me, Mister Know-Everything-About-Me." I bumped him with my hip, more playful than angry, and he squeezed my waist, closing any gaps between our bodies.

"I want to hear you laugh like that again." Pushing aside my hair, he grazed his lips over the nape of my neck. "And again."

He dotted light kisses down my neck, where Troy had previously wrapped his hands, then suckled with the warmth of his mouth.

"And again." Sam hesitated to touch my face.

I brushed my face against his palm, rubbed my hip against his thigh, winding myself up like the interminable fool I was. Maybe I needed this distraction even more than Sam did.

Then came a slow, melting kiss on my shoulder, the shoulder Troy had slammed against the stall when I'd tried wriggling free. I wanted my skin to remember this moment, embed Sam's lips and hands instead of the monster's.

"Tell me you don't want me, Jules." His hands skimmed my curves, lighting my body with heat and shivers at once. "Say the word and I'll never touch you again."

I took his hand, slid it across my chest and under the robe. Arching my back, I rested my head on his shoulder, surrendering my mouth. My neck stung and my head pounded, but the taste of his lips, the thrill of his fingers discovering my breasts, pushed aside any pain or fear.

 Despite the stiff cotton of his jeans, I could feel the swelling that made him sigh heavily each time I rocked against him and pulled his attention away from the window.

He stretched my arm toward the ceiling, stroking the line from my wrist down to my ribcage, and I felt taller, more beautiful under Sam's caress. Cupping my breast, his thumb circled and tugged my nipple to fruition. My hip grazed his erection, and his groan echoed in my mouth as our kiss deepened.

Turning to face him, I dug my hand into his back pocket, urging him against me, then pulled out his phone and threw the damn thing on the couch. I didn't want interruptions, and I didn't want just a distraction from an ugly night. I needed Sam to take us a million miles away from reality. So I whispered what I wanted most from him, and he lifted me against the wall, pulled my knee wide to fit his pelvis between my thighs and drove against me.

My words had unleashed the animal in him, as I knew they would, and my body had forfeited control under his determined hands, as I'd expected. I'd ensured neither of us could stop.

From a breathless kiss, Sam withdrew, acknowledged the hunger in my eyes and led me down the hall.

"Go to your bed," he said when Max jumped into our path. He squeezed my hand. "And you come to mine."

CHAPTER 20

The last remnants of a hefty candle washed the bedroom walls in honey light. My pink slip hung over an ornately carved wood post of a four-poster bed, and I laughed to think Sam had broken into my apartment for lingerie, especially since I didn't want more clothing but less.

He turned the lock on the door, reminding me that danger lay beyond these walls, and then he sat on the purple bedspread. Resting his hands on my waist, he drew me close. I ran my fingers through his short, brown mane, thinking of the first day I'd seen that shock of brassy, sun-bleach hair in the park. Tonight, however, I needed to see him as a lover, not as a fugitive or a cop or my patient. I realized then why this apartment was our best chance at a fresh start.

"You know what undercover means, right?" he asked.

I lowered my voice, mimicking him. "That's some foreplay, Detective."

He stopped my hands and sighed heavily for the mood, and I questioned whether he was having second thoughts about our encounter or about me. "Means out of commission. Out of the dating game."

I pulled his face center. "You're saying this to me, the queen of freezer burn."

When I maneuvered into his lap and straddled him, he averted his face. "And then there's the meds," he said, his voice pitched higher.

"I just want to be with you, Sam." My hand glided over the rainbow of contusions on his chest, catching on his tight nipple, and I smiled wider than I had in years. "You should have stayed with me that morning you came to my bed. You could've had me then."

"No, I couldn't." He tensed, so I pulled back to get a good look at his face. "You were calling his name in your sleep."

My gaze dropped. The nightmare. No wonder Sam had been so short with me in my apartment that day, so devastated at the restaurant when Stone kissed me, and so reserved now.

"He's always there." Sam shook his head. "Hovering in the background. Who can compete with him, the infamous Luke."

I froze.
No, not Luke
. The dream had felt so real, so suffocating. But Stone had been the intruder. "Luke's gone," I said, but my voice was reedy, unconvincing even to me.

Sam huffed. "Not for you. He's like a ghost attached to your soul."

He dropped his hands to the bed, his shoulders slumping, and I could feel miles suddenly stretch between us.

Despite a night of horrors, and danger threatening our gates, this much I knew: Luke was dead, but I wasn't. Thanks to this man. This man, who'd pulled me from death's grip. Who'd made me laugh when I was numb, hopeful when I was brittle. This man, who'd frightened and mocked me, frustrated my desires then provoked me with his possessiveness. This man, who drove me insane, whom I wanted above all others.

"Look at me, Sam."

He grinned and peeked from under his brows. "That's what really gets us into trouble."

"When Luke died," I said, pulling his chin center. "When he died, part of me died with him. But the part of me that survived—" It was hard enough to strike a blow against the dead, but to look into another man's face while I said it made me feel like a betrayer, so I closed my eyes. "God forgive me, but that part of me felt freed."

Sam leaned forward, taking hold of my thighs, as if I'd run away from him.

"With Luke I couldn't breathe," I continued. "I had to hide my real self. But I didn't have the courage to call off the wedding. I was a coward. He was such a good man, and everyone adored him. Friends said I should be grateful, that I'd found a one-in-a-million guy. And they were right. So why did I feel like I was dying inside?" I looked Sam in the eye. "Then Luke died instead of me. I should've been driving, I should've died that night, not him."

"You can't believe that." Sam's hand fanned across my cheek and he held to the back of my head, keeping me from pulling away. "That's bullshit, and you know it. I need you here. I need you alive."

"Maybe I deserved to live, maybe I didn't." I touched Sam's worry lines. "But I got a second chance at happiness. I didn't see that till now."

He angled his head to meet my mouth with a slow intensity that surprised me. I shrugged the robe off my shoulders so it dropped around my waist, and he raided my chest with renewed lust. I closed my eyes, feeling every strum of his lips as his mouth discovered each breast, pulled each nipple with his rough, searing tongue. I'd not been with a man in so many years, I felt like a sensory virgin; every smell and taste and touch electrified me.