Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (17 page)

“Close the door first,” he suggested, smiling. Really smiling. For the first time in months. When had he last met anyone so open and emotionally honest? Her sweetness sparkled in her hazel eyes, and curved her delectable mouth.

Heather closed the door.
Oh, God. He came. He’s
here.
This is it. Show time.
He was wearing black slacks and T-shirt, and a cream-colored jacket, and looked even bigger than she remembered. Taller, broader, more solid.

She’d rehearsed this meeting all week, but now that he was here, she was all nerves and giddy joy.

Euphoric and terrified.

The recalcitrant chain wasn’t cooperating. It didn’t help that her fingers had a fine tremor, her palms were damp, and her heart was galloping in her chest.

This is going to be fine.She repeated her mantra.

She’d tell him. He’d tell
her
he was glad she’d told him, but that he was in agreement with what she had to do, and then…Then she had no idea. Her imagination hadn’t allowed her to go any further than that.

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By the time she managed to open the door fully, she had her emotions, the knee-jerk joy at seeing him again, a little more under control. The nervous anticipation of the conversation ahead was a little harder to manage. “Hi.”

She put a self-conscious hand to her hair, shoved into a messy ponytail to keep it out of her way as she worked. Wearing jeans washed almost white, and a pink muscle shirt with no bra, she had a fleeting wish that she’d been dressed in something sexy. But then maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t. Her core temperature shot up just looking at him. And the look he was giving her back was hot enough to melt glass.

All her juices started to simmer and bubble inside her until it was hard to breathe. Her eyes hungrily drank in every detail. He needed a haircut, and he definitely needed a shave.

His hot gaze slid from her face to her breasts, then slowly returned to her now-warm face. When had she last blushed? Only with Caleb. She’d felt the look as if he’d physically touched her. There was no hiding the sharp points of her nipples through the thin T-shirt material of her top, and she didn’t bother trying.

She hungrily looked him over, curling her fingers into her palms so she didn’t reach out and touch him.

Touch him? She wanted to grab him. She wanted to bury her face against his throat and feel his heat. She wanted that magical afternoon back.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked, no longer smiling.

“Oh. Sorry.” She stepped back. “Come in.” Other than the police, briefly, several months ago, she hadn’t had any visitors since she’d lived there. The tiny vestibule was immediately filled to capacity as Caleb stepped inside. The smell of him, fresh air mixed with coffee and the unmistakable scent of his skin, made her internal organs come to attention, and her heart started to flub-dub triple time.

“If you’d—” She indicated the stairs directly behind her, trying to get him out of the way so that she could close and lock the door. Her chest brushed his as they passed and her breath snagged in her throat.

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He grabbed her by the upper arm with his free hand, spinning her around to face him, then crowded her against the wall, crushing his mouth down on hers. Heart knocking wildly, she grabbed his upper arms for balance. But she needn’t have bothered. Caleb had her sandwiched between the wall and his hard body.

She wasn’t going anywhere. Every single thought went straight out of her brain as he sucked her tongue inside the rich dark cavern of his mouth.

She kissed him, holding nothing back as he cupped her face in his large hands. His raw moan tore through her, answering her own aching need. God, she’d missed him, she thought, running her hands up his arms to his broad shoulders. Missed
this;
she circled his neck with her arms, standing on her toes to press closer. Missed his heady taste. Her nipples felt unbearably sensitive, tight and hard against the plane of his chest. She’d missed his unique smell. Clean. Male. She’d missed the texture of his skin against hers. Missed the overwhelming sense of rightness she felt in his arms. Which was ridiculous because she’d known him all of one insane, erotic afternoon.

Caleb lifted his head, his pupils dilated, his mouth damp from hers. “Marry me.”

Heather blinked, trying to clear the sensual fog from her brain. She half laughed. Not the ha ha kind, but a “What the hell?!” kind. “What?” Her heart leapt. “No. You can’t—We can’t. It’s impos—We’ve known each other for five minut—” She moaned, a soft, helpless sound of pleasure as he shut her up by kissing her again.

When she finally opened her eyes, it was to find herself on her back in the middle of her bed, with no idea how she’d gotten there, Caleb half on top of her.

“Oh, God,” she murmured dizzily when he finally stopped kissing her and lifted his head. Her eyes were blurred, and her lips were parted and damp. Ready for more.

His eyes blazed teal. His mobile mouth twitched, the heated expression in his gaze turned to an amused gleam. “That didn’t feel like a no to me.”

She put a hand to his shoulder, but couldn’t quite bring herself to push him away. Her hand slid around his neck instead. “No fair,” she said weakly, loving the texture of his hair as she combed her fingers through the short dark strands at his nape.

He nuzzled her throat. She arched her neck to grant him better access. Her fingers tightened on the
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back of his head in an involuntary spasm as his open mouth found the frantic pulse at the base beneath her jaw.

“Why not?”

Hmm? “Because…Because I can’t think when you kiss me like this.” She forced herself to release her fingers. One. At. A. Time. With no help from her his lips found that magical place right below her ear.

She shuddered as the sensation shot through her body like lightning. “Hmm…”

His chuckle vibrated against her neck, setting her nerve endings jumping and dancing with pleasure.

She’d stop him in a minute…Maybe five. His teeth closed gently on the sensitive skin running down the side of her neck. The velvety swipe of his tongue tasting her resonated deep inside her. The sensation flashed straight to her womb.

“Caleb…Oh, God…” She moved her chin to give him access to yet another magical spot. “That feels so—”

“Oh, yeah.” His voice was thick, his breath warm, his tongue cruising in a slow, unrelenting exploration as he murmured, “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Amazing didn’t even come close. She was melting. Imploding. Dissolving into a puddle of lust and want.

Her fingers bunched the shoulder of his beautifully tailored jacket. Pushing him away…No, damn it.

Holding him close.

If he’d slipped inside her right then she would have come in less than a second. She was that close.

“I’ve missed this.” He lifted his head. “I’ve missed
you
—” he drew in a ragged breath. “Christ. Do you get it? I just can’t get you out of my head. I feel you on my skin, and in my blood. I taste you on my tongue. I have the summery smell of you embedded in my brain until all I can think about is being with you. Holding you. Loving you.” He cupped her cheek, his large hand gentle on her face. His thumb brushed across her hot skin. “Marry me.”

The
L
word made her heart tremble, then start to beat double time. Oh, Lord. Temptation in a
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six-foot-three-inch package wrapped with sex appeal. His declaration ripped away the layers of protection she’d padded around her lonely heart. Her mind warned caution, but her heart softened toward him as though she were melting wax and he the flame.

She’d fallen in love with him in the coffee shop three months ago. He’d taken her hand. Looked at her.

Seen
her.
And she’d plunged headfirst into love.

Over the ensuing months she’d tried convincing herself that it wasn’t so. That what she’d felt was lust.

Pure and simple. But even when she’d tried saying it aloud, and heard her own voice, the utter lack of conviction in it had depressed her.

Then she’d burst into tears. Because of course, love was impossible for her now. No matter how badly she wanted it. No matter how deeply she felt—her feelings were immaterial. She swallowed the aching lump of disappointment stuck in her throat. Not sure if she would ever have the luxury of knowing love again.

He’d called her
Hannah.

Oh, God.

Hannah.

She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. Of course he had. That’s who she was now.

Hannah Smith. For a few blissful minutes, she’d been able to forget Heather Shaw. She couldn’t think straight when he was kissing her neck, and tried to push him away. The fairy tale had to get back to cold, hard reality. Someone out there was determined to kill her. They hadn’t found her yet. But they would.

She could
trip
over one of them and wouldn’t know it. They’d find her and they’d kill her and anyone near her.

That included Caleb. And the baby.

She was doing the right thing.

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“Please let me go,” she said quietly when he didn’t release her immediately.

He sat back, holding up his hands as she rolled off him, off the bed, and walked away. Wrapping her arms about her waist, Heather went to her worktable, then turned around to look at him.

Band-Aid quick, she told herself. Just say it and get it over with. “W-would you like something to drink?”

He frowned. “You catapulted off the bed to offer me a
drink
?” He raked a hand through his hair, clearly puzzled by her odd behavior. “Got any nuts?”

She gave him a blank look. “Nuts?”

“Brazil. Cashews. Whatever.”

How had she lost control of the conversation? How in God’s name had they gone from a marriage proposal to nuts? She met his eyes, and on a single rush of breath said quietly, “I’m pregnant, Caleb. Or at least I will be until two tomorrow afternoon. I’m terminating the pregnancy.”

Caleb shot off the side of the bed, his eyes now holding a different kind of glittering heat. The brackets
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around his mouth showed white against his tanned skin. He ran both hands through his hair, his throat working. “You were considering an
abortion
?”

“Not
were.
And not
considering.
I have an appointment tomorrow.”

His lips tightened, and he sucked in an angry breath. “Bull,” he said grimly. “Don’t
I
get a vote in this?”

Heather’s heart lodged halfway up her throat, but she gave him a steady look. “The voting is closed.”

His jaw was so tight a muscle jumped in his cheek. “Then I suggest you reopen it,” he said in a low, soft voice, all the more unnerving for its control.

Although he seemed to be staying where he was, she took a step backward—not so much retreating as putting a little more space between them. Okay. Retreating. He was big and he was mad. He’d gone from considerate lover to adversary in the blink of an eye. For a split second she had a moment of
déjà
vu.
Caleb’s taut features, and the way he was watching her with the eyes of a predator, were oddly
familiar.

But in their short acquaintance,
very
short acquaintance she’d never seen this expression. Lord knew, it was a look she’d never forget. Caleb, the man she’d been so desperate for, looked like a wolf checking out a vulnerable place to bite. Her butt bumped into the worktable behind her.

Curling her palms over the edge of the table, her own eyes narrowed warningly. “I’m not doing it as a form of after-the-fact birth control, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Don’t try to second-guess me.
I
don’t know what I’m thinking
myself
right now.”

At least he was being honest. Her stomach clenched as his fists curled and he started walking—

stalking
—toward her. Her heartbeat sped up. She stood up a little straighter. “Hit me and you’ll lose a hand, buddy,” she warned, feeling behind her on the table for something to use in self-defense.

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As if he’d slammed into a brick wall he stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at her for a few seconds, and time seemed to stand still. “Jesus.
Hit
you?” A flush rode his cheekbones as obvious effort controlled his emotions. An effort she appreciated a great deal. “I’ve never hit a woman in my life, and I sure as hell wouldn’t start with you.” Audibly grinding his back molars, he scrubbed a hand across his three o’clock shadow jaw. “Christ. I frightened you!”

Clearly on edge, he started pacing the room. She could have told him what a waste of time that was.