Dark Star (23 page)

“I don’t know what I’ll do. My line of work
is too damned dangerous.”

Tonya gave him a surprised look. Had being
shot finally brought him to his senses? She shook her head.
Probably not, after all, it wasn’t his first gunshot wound.

Nate took in her startled expression. “Not
too dangerous for me. Too dangerous for you. I mean if you were
found once you can be found again.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. She hadn’t
considered that.

“Exactly. No, I think I need a new line of
work, but I don’t know what that is yet.” He moved the tray off his
lap and scratched at his scraggly facial hair. Deringer had just
given him a shave the previous evening and he was in dire need of
another.

“Well, you’ve got your degree, maybe you
should look into finally using it somehow,” she said.

“I’ve thought about that. I’ve got some money
saved. I might do something entrepreneurial, or maybe do some
security consulting. I just don’t know yet.” He shifted
uncomfortably on the bed and she moved to remove the breakfast
tray. He grabbed one of her wrists, stopping her before she could
leave his side with the tray. “You know, you haven’t come near me
since I came back. Don’t I get some type of reward for keeping my
promise?”

“Haven’t come near you? I’ve been with you
every day for a week.” She turned to place the tray on the
dresser.

“You know what I mean.”

Tonya sighed heavily as though greatly
put-upon then gave him a playful peck on the cheek, but he grabbed
both her arms and held her in place for a much longer salute. She
didn’t dare move for fear of hurting his ribs, besides she wanted
the kiss. Believing he was dead had been so horrible, and the long
nights spent frightened out of her wits thinking Deringer would get
there too late or was mistaken in his belief that Nate was alive
had been even worse. Now that he was on the mend she could focus on
more carnal thoughts, not that they were ever that far away anyway.
Even bandaged and bruised and looking like death warmed over, he
and his masculinity drew her like a hummingbird to nectar and were
just as sweet. She leaned into the kiss tasting the essence of him,
absorbing it into her flesh. She pulled closer to him, kneeling on
the bed now as the kiss intensified. Tonya knew she should halt the
caress but it felt too good, she’d thought he was dead and now his
vital, breathing flesh was warming beneath her hands. Burning her,
searing her with the promise of all she’d ever wanted.

Feeling his hands against her bare breasts
brought Tonya to her senses. The man was wounded for crying out
loud! She pulled away, grabbing his hands to halt his tantalizing
touch.

“You’re in too bad a shape for that and you
know it.”

“Are you kidding? It’s been weeks. If I’m
ever that bad off just take a gun and blast me between the eyes,
little sister.”

Tonya laughed. “Well, I’m dead tired. I doubt
I’d be much fun.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Onion. You’re wearing
yourself out. Why won’t you let anyone else take care of me? The
Department -- ” he began before she interrupted him.

“Do you really think I want those creepy ass
people in my house? They made you disappear once before, what’s to
keep it from happening again? No, I’m perfectly capable of taking
care of you. Especially now that you’re doing so much better.”

“Fine, if you insist. But what about my fish
sandwich?”

* * * * *

Tonya adjusted the angle of her laptop stand
so that she could lean back more in her recliner. She’d been
writing for hours and the strain was beginning to wear on her lower
back. A good stretch and a glass of tea seemed like a good idea.
She jumped as the glass suddenly appeared on the table next to her
chair. She turned and saw Nate clad only in a pair of loose fitting
pajama bottoms standing next to her chair. After three weeks of
convalescence he’d regained some weight, but there was still a
troubling fragility about him.

He gestured toward the glass, “I see you
still drink that rocket fuel to get juiced up. Looks like you’ve
had a few.”

Tonya smiled and picked up the glass, which
he’d placed in front of four empty ones. She could usually tell how
long she’d been writing by the number of glasses she’d consumed.
She stood then pausing to stretch the kink in her lower back.

“I’m sorry, have you been up long? I get in a
zone when I write.”

“I remember,” he said with a faraway look in
his eyes.

“Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”

“Nope. Nothing but to stay out of bed for a
few minutes.”

“Nate -- ”

“I’m not going to climb the Matterhorn. I’m
just sick of being cooped up.”

“Fine, you can use this chair, it should be
most comfortable. Do you want a book? A magazine?”

“Nope. I just want to talk to you.”

Tonya looked down at her computer.

“Hey, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother. I was pretty much done
anyway. My editor will be thrilled that I’m so far along.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how you do
it. Write on a deadline like that,” he (clarified?) said after she
raised a brow in inquiry.

“No, you don’t, considering that I did it for
you when we were in school. I damned near flunked Chaucer for
you.”

“I did flunk B. Law for you, or did you
forget that I’m the only reason you survived Calculus?”

Tonya chuckled as she recalled those frantic
late-night study sessions. They were probably the only couple on
campus that spent a good portion of their time together actually
studying. “So, it took two of us to make one good student.”

“We make one helluva pair, that’s for sure.
Tell me more about writing. What are all those sticky notes for?”
He gestured toward the notes that covered her laptop stand and
case.

“That’s how I plot. Each sticky is a chapter
and I write out what will happen on it. How did it feel when you
got your first assignment?”

“You couldn’t possibly want to talk about my
job.”

“Quid pro quo, Randolph. You show me yours
and I’ll show you mine,” she said.

“Seems I’ve heard that one before,” he
laughed then shook his head as he stared off into space for a
moment. “I was terrified. Scared to death I’d screw it up,” he said
with a sigh.

“But not afraid you’d be hurt or killed?”

“Not really.” He opened his mouth as though
to say more then rubbed his hand over his head before he spoke
again. “I was well-trained.”

“That’s not what you were about to say.”

He held up an index finger and slowly shook
his head again.

Realizing he wasn’t going to say anything
else she continued. “I don’t know how they train you not to fear
death -- or worse.”

“They don’t. They train you to focus on the
job at hand. When you do that, everything else falls into place.
There’s no time for fear or worrying.”

Tonya sank down on the massive chocolate
brown sofa that was at a right angle to the chair. “If anyone had
asked me back then what I thought you’d end up doing I would never
have imagined anything like this. Even when you disappeared I
thought -- ”

“Me neither. So what are you working on now,
Diced
?”

She smiled. “Yes, and no, I’m not telling you
anything about it.”

“You know when I first heard you were writing
books I was terrified.”

“Terrified? Of what? You didn’t fear death
from a crackpot terrorist, but you were scared of me?”

“I thought you might be writing about
me.”

“Thinking pretty highly of yourself,
huh?”

“Well the whole Waffle House thing made me
nervous. After all, we had history there.”

“I told you...”

“I know. I know you didn’t remember, but how
was I to know that? I knew I’d done you wrong. I’ve heard about the
ways you writers take revenge.”

“I like my revenge a little more personal.
I’d never put you in a book,” she said, lying through her teeth.
Martin, her lead character’s love interest was so obviously Nate
even Callie had teased her about it. She was stunned he didn’t see
himself. Of course, she realized now the character was the young
man she’d known, not this hardened agent. Her Nate was still there,
but he was irrevocably changed by his life experiences.

Shortly afterwards she noticed that he was
beginning to tire and he went to bed without complaint.

Tonya slipped into bed beside Nate. He’d
turned in hours before while she worked late on her manuscript. She
carefully spooned him her front to his back, relaxing as she felt
his comforting warmth.

“This time I was scared out of my mind.”

“What?” Tonya said, startled. She’d thought
he was asleep. Why was he lying here in the dark by himself?

“When I went after the Rooster, I was
terrified,” he said.

“Well, it’s not unusual to fear death and
dismemberment.”

“You’ve been reading too many of your own
books. The Rooster doesn’t dismember people, at least not as far as
I know. But see, I’d never cared before. This time I knew we’d
started something back on Tipitoe and I was afraid to fuck it up
again.”

“Oh, Nate.” She hugged him closer to her
forgetting his sore ribs for a moment.

“This is my second chance at Heaven and I’ll
do anything to hold on to it.”

Tonya wanted to assure him that he’d never
lose her, but she knew deep in her heart that though she loved him
she still didn’t altogether trust him. So instead of words she
stroked a hand over his tense shoulders. Leaning forward she
pressed kisses along his shoulder and upper back. Nate cried out in
response and turned onto his back. Reaching up he grabbed one of
her locks and pulled her down for a kiss. A deep soul-stirring kiss
that began with his searing tongue demanding entry to her willing
mouth.

Her passion ignited immediately leaving her
desperate and ready for more contact. She ran her hands over his
bare arms seeking to feel as much of his flesh as possible. It was
not until she reached his chest and her fingers brushed against the
bandages that she came to her senses. This was crazy. Less than a
month ago the man had almost died and here she was trying to bag
him. She pulled away.

“No. Nate, we can’t do this.”

“Are you crazy? I’ve never been so hard up in
my life. If we don’t do this I’ll die.”

“Are men still telling that lie? If men died
from blue balls we’d be stepping on dead bodies everywhere we
went.”

“Okay, so I won’t die, but I’ll be miserable
as hell and so will you.”

Tonya couldn’t deny the truth of that
statement. She’d hardly lived a chaste life, but had been between
lovers for quite a while before he came back. She’d grown
accustomed to regular sex, that and the thrill of having him back
alive had sent her libido into orbit.

“But your ribs...”

“It won’t hurt me. I won’t even move at all.
Just climb on top.”

Tonya considered it for a long moment then
finally gave in. She carefully pulled his pajama bottoms and briefs
off and his erect penis sprang free. After shedding her own pajamas
she straddled his hip and positioned him at her opening. Then she
slowly descended over him. His eyes were closed but his teeth were
bared in a grimace and his head was canted back as he groaned
aloud. She watched his expression unbearably aroused by the
evidence of the effect she had on him.

Up and down she rode him. Stretching to
accommodate the penetration that she could feel in every cell of
her body. More and more she took of him speeding her rise and
descent in response to the throbbing insistence that was centered
on her clitoris. Her orgasm was like a glowing ember inside being
stoked higher and higher. She focused on pursuing it with fixed
determination. Even so, when it pulsed through her she was caught
by surprise as her emotions veered from agony to ecstasy and then
back again. Joy and pain careened through her soul in alternating
arcs leaving her bewildered in their dizzying wake. When the tears
began to flow she didn’t slow her pace. There was something almost
primal in the emotional response even as his body answered the
driving demand of hers. She watched as he strained against the
impulse to move his hips. He opened his eyes and stared directly
into hers as he finally came. This time he didn’t cry out, didn’t
say a word and somehow that too heightened the intensity. It gave
the moment a gravity and connection they’d never had before.

When she could finally stop, she paused still
on top of him. He reached up and touched the tears that streamed
down her face. Slowly he brought the hand back to his mouth and
tasted them. And she knew he understood. Now she could begin to
bury the pain he’d caused her and they could start anew. There
would be no more tears.

Just as they were drifting off to
sleep...

“I love you, L’Oignon, always have and always
will.”

Tonya sighed as the barriers she’d placed
around her heart opened to let him back in. “I know.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tonya hung up the phone so excited by the
news her agent had just given her she was almost delirious.

“What is it, Onion?” Nate asked from his
perch on top of her desk. She’d come over to her office to do some
paperwork and make some important phone calls. Nate had cabin fever
and came with her simply to have something to do.

“That was Leslie, my agent. You’re not going
to believe this, but Showtime wants to talk to me about a
series.”

“What?”

She clasped her shaking hands together. “I’m
not going to get too excited. This is just a preliminary
thing.”

“Well I’m excited enough for both of us. When
do they want to meet?” He jumped down from the desk to pull her
into his embrace.

“In a couple of weeks,” she said. “They might
just be doing this for publicity...”