Deadly Shadows (12 page)

Turning, he walked with ease into the kitchen and sat her on the counter. She could feel the hardened ridge of him between them. With his nylon shorts and her skin tight spandex, there was very little between them.

His hands explored, devoured, branded. Her skin felt on fire where he touched along her stomach, causing her abs to tighten. Her jacket was quickly tossed aside, as was his shirt.

And his chest.

Chiseled and sculpted, his muscles begged to be touched. A dark swatch of hair spread across his torso, down to a thin trail that disappeared at the waistband of his shorts.

She grabbed a handful and pulled him to her. At his hiss, she kissed his chest, licked up to the hollow of his neck, where his pulse beat furiously. He was salty from their jog, tasting vaguely of his expensive cologne.

He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth plundering hers, taking, and demanding more.

His tongue brushed the roof of her mouth and she shivered, moaning.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled into her mouth, shifting against her with his hips.

The storm swept her up and along. His hands. She loved his hands, the look of them, the feel of those strong, elegant fingers. Thumbs dove along her jaw, even as his fingers tangled in her hair.

“You drive me crazy.” His eyes were as blue as September stones, intense as emotions swirled in them.

Aiden made her forget things. His mouth met hers, this time, nipping gently, coaxing and giving instead of demanding, his tongue teasing along the seam of her lips.

She could think of nothing but Aiden. Every sense was filled with him. His touch, the sight of his turbulent blue eyes, the smell of him, his cologne, that woodsy-spicy scent mixed with an essence all his own, the taste of him. Aiden overwhelmed her. His mouth moved to her jaw, her neck. Jesslyn felt his hand over her rib cage, whisper along the underside of her breast.

His thumb twirled up and razed her nipple. The moan she had been holding escaped on a sigh.

Those lithe fingers danced up her calf, up higher still to the edge of her shorts. His palm flattened out to rub her thigh. When he cupped her, pressed his fingers against her, her breath shuddered out. Aiden made her long and want. He pressed his fingers deeper, grazed one over the one spot that screamed to be touched. Her breath shuddered out and she whimpered. He pressed harder, deeper, flicked his finger again and she could feel her own heat and wetness.

That realization pulled her away from the euphoria of the kiss and she put her hands on his chest.

“A--Aiden.”

He looked into her eyes, as though seeing into her very soul. One strong arm was wrapped around her back. His other hand slowly lifted from her, tingling where it had only been

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moments ago. Heat pulsed in places she’d forgotten existed. She almost pulled him back, but she didn’t. She needed to stop. To think.

“I got,” he licked his lips, “carried away. I apologize.” His voice was deeper than normal. Low baritone notes swirling within a symphony.

She laid her fingers against his lips, and shook her head. She had to make him understand. “No. It isn’t you. It isn’t you at all, or it is. But only in a good way. It’s me. I had to stop.”His eyes held hers and she knew how easy it was to get lost in the blue depths. Instead, she gazed at his chest. Though that wasn’t any better, so she looked at his chin. “It’s me. I like you. I really do. No, it’s more than like.” God, she sounded like a moron.

“I care for you. And that scares me.” Better to just spill the truth and get it over with.

She tried again, on a whisper, “The accident left me shattered in every way possible and it took me so long to find the pieces, let alone to try and put them back together. There was only Jerrod for me. Only Jerrod. I’ve never done casual, and quite honestly, I don’t know that I could.”

It was her turn to stop. Jesslyn took a deep breath. “I know it isn’t fashionable to wait, but I can’t just do sex. I’m not programmed that way.” Though at present, her actions probably proved otherwise. “I need some time, Aiden. I’m--I’m sorry.”

She felt, more than saw his grin behind her fingers. Then he kissed them, flicking his tongue against her palm. She jerked her hand back.

“I understand, Jessie. I do. There’s no need to apologize. There isn’t anything to apologize for.” He leaned over and chastely kissed her forehead, then her brows, her nose, her lips. “I had a great morning. I hope you did.”

Nervous, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, nodded and said, “I did, yes.”

“Don’t go running by yourself, please.”

She’d see. “I’ll let you know if I’m jogging.”

He stood back and pulled away. Aiden bent down, retrieving his shirt. “I’ll be honest with you. I’d love to make love to you right now.”

Her stomach danced, her breasts tingled.

“Right here,” he continued, his voice lowing, “right now.” He leaned a bit closer, narrowing his gaze on her. “I could spend the entire day in either one, or even both of our beds.”

Closer. “Both of us tangled and wanting.” His breath whispered against her lips. “Both of us loving every single moment.” For a moment he stood, staring at her lips, then his lids rose and he looked back into her eyes. He straightened. “However, I don’t think that would be wise. I want you, but only if you want me as much as I do you. Thank you for being honest. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way.”

Not pressured. She grinned and chuckled. Her heart was still racing. God what the man could do with simple words.

Jesslyn had expected anger and wondered why. Aiden was Aiden. Though, his words, like his hands and mouth, kept her blood surging through her veins.

“Both beds?” She slid off the counter shaking her head. “No pressure. Nope. None.

Well, geez thanks for understanding.”

He turned and stopped at the kitchen doorway. “Understanding is usually the easy part.

It’s getting you to open up that’s difficult. No, don’t apologize again. Let’s leave it at the fact we both enjoyed what we were doing and open to the possibilities of other times like it.” His dark eyes bore into hers before he walked out into the hallway.

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She stood there for a minute staring into space. The entire day? In both their beds?

Shaking off the thoughts, she hurried after him, watched as he walked up the stairs.

“Aiden.” Not that she had a clue what she wanted to say to him.

He stopped, turning to her. “Our date. Seven o’clock?” His gaze still bore into hers.

“Seven o’clock.”

She started to turn back into the kitchen, but stopped watched as a small grin teased the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, one more thing.” His voice could coax angels to sin.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I more than like you too. And I don’t do casual.”

* * * *

Still nothing. They knew nothing. A town this size and everyone knew everything about
anything.
And nothing.

He was surprised at the disappointment that speared him. Which was ridiculous. If he
were ever caught, he’d never be able to avenge again. That would be a true waste.

He hummed Berlioz as he walked in the morning air. It was rather chilly. Of course,
most mornings here were.

He smiled at the man walking a dog as he passed them on the sidewalk. Flowers grew
out of pots along the walkway. Early birds were out and about. Jogging, walking, cycling.

Others were grabbing breakfast.

Soon, soon it would be time to hunt again. To punish and avenge.

Quietly he walked on.

He fingered the bracelet in his pocket. He’d pulled it out the night before, watching as
the moonlight sharded off the glittering diamonds.

She’d been cold. Cold and heartless, he thought. Just like the stones. That’s why he
took it. They all deserved what they got. They should know better. Shouldn’t be so immoral!

The stars had winked at him, as though they understood his secret. His fate. His destiny.

His.

He patted the bracelet snaking in his pocket. The gravel crunched under his feet. The
morning was alive with life and a soft wind stirred restlessly.

The innocent was what was standing between him and continuing. He didn’t want to hurt
her. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time was hardly a sin. But then God willed things to
happen, the heavens aligned to influence things.

He sighed, still undecided about his witness. He might, unfortunately have to rid himself
of that worry.

He’d almost gone hunting last night, but he couldn’t. Last night there hadn’t been any
screams, but then, there never were. Were there?

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The golden champagne tasted tart on Aiden’s tongue. He studied the woman across from him. What was she thinking?

“Will there be anything else, Mr. Kinncaid?” one of his waiters asked.

“No. Thank you, Nowel.”

He watched as she took another sip of the bubbling wine and sighed. Her fingers fidgeted on the stem of the flute. Jessie looked great in anything, as far as he was concerned. But tonight she looked--breathtaking.

Lord knew the air had all but stopped in his lungs when she’d come downstairs. Her long black dress skimmed the top of her ankles. It left her arms bare, the sleeves stopping at the shoulders in some black filmy, see-through material, that probably had a name, but he had no idea what it was. Whatever it was, it teased him with the veiled view of collarbone, the rise of her breasts, before it ended in the solid black material of the dress. The neckline fit tight along the column of her throat. She was more provocative in that than in a mid-thigh, skin tight, body molding number. Though, come to think of it, he wouldn’t mind seeing her in that either.

She’d curled her hair, pinned it up haphazardly atop her head. Tendrils fell down the back, around her face softening the look. Did she have any idea what those wayward strands did to him? Had she left them down to purposely tease him? Knowing Jessie, probably not.

Her foot bounced back and forth, and he looked down to see the black high heel hanging from her toes. He absently wondered how much coffee she’d had today.

Stockings? His boot-wearing, jean-loving woman was wearing stockings. A grin pulled at his mouth as he set his drink on the table.

“What are you nervous about?” he asked.

Her gaze cut to him, and she uncrossed her legs, her shoe falling to the floor in the process. Aiden leaned down just as she did. Their heads knocked together as he picked up the shoe. Holding a hand to the side of her forehead, she snatched her shoe back.

“I’m not nervous.”

She leaned down to slide her shoe back on, but he took it from her. Her stockinged ankle was smooth and slick as he grasped it in his hand. He watched her as he held it. With one finger, he slowly drew up her instep, circled around her inside ankle bone. Her in-drawn breath had him grinning more. She pulled her lower lip in.

“Yes, you are nervous. I know you, Jessie girl. The question, is why?” He saw the goose bumps on her arm. He started to say something else, but she pulled her foot away and grabbed her shoe, sliding it on.

Aiden straightened back in his chair. “You look absolutely lovely this evening. Have I told you that?”

Her eyes held his as she straightened. “Yes, but I figure a guy like you says that to all his dates.” “Nope, just the contrary ones.”

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“Try to soften them up?” She sipped her champagne again.

Aiden cleared his throat. “With your attitude, it’s no wonder compliments are a shock.”

Her look narrowed. “I bet you kept in compliment-practice with a model. A model. I’m the one after the model.” She frowned. “Honestly, Aiden. You went out with a model, for God’s sake. You were going to marry her. I’m certain she knew what went with what, could probably tell an Armani from a Versace at a glance. A woman who had Valentino in her wardrobe.”

She was rambling. Jessie never rambled.

Aiden grinned and leaned up on his elbows. “Something against Valentino?”

“Only designer thing I have in my closet is a pair of Italian shoes that I probably bought on sale and hardly ever wear.” She tapped her hand on the tabletop. She’d probably be pacing if they weren’t sitting at a table. Energy in motion. He’d rather the energy be in motion
with
him or better yet,
under
him. Hell,
beside, on top of,
as long as it was
with
.

“My idea of dressing up,” she continued, jerking his attention back, “is probably not yours. Dress up you say, and won’t tell me where we’re going. My idea of dressing up is a broom stick skirt and boots.”

What the hell was a broom stick skirt? He couldn’t hold it back. “Is that a skirt witches wear?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and you know what I’m about to do with my broomstick?”

Aiden tried not to laugh. “Sex toys. Now we’re talking.” She glowered and fell silent.

He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “You look wonderful, and no I’m not just telling you that. Quit comparing yourself to Brice. She doesn’t come close to even a hair-width of what you are.”

Her look softened and he caught the beginning of one of her one-sided smiles. Her sigh relaxed her shoulders. “Of course, I’m more than she is. We contrary, bitchy types usually are.”

“Complex,” he corrected.

“I can deal with complex.” There was that grin that pulled at his gut. “Thanks for the compliment. I guess if you like it, all the time wasn’t wasted then.” Her head full of curls shook.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to get dressed? Lord, I feel like I’m back in high school or something. A week with you and I’m worried about clothes! I have no fashion sense.”

He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong with her fashion sense, but Jessie trudged on. “And I went shopping. Shopping, for the love of God. T.J. said I needed something new. I hate shopping. I can’t see what some women find so damn enjoyable about shopping for clothes.”He leaned back and simply listened to her ramble. She was nervous, whether Jessie admitted it or not. And when she was nervous she tended to chatter. She was opening up and talking without him having to pull every little thing out of her. Whatever was on her mind, just seemed to come right out of her mouth. Must be the only time she let her shields down.

She might not think she had any fashion sense, but she looked damn good to him. The long silver pendant that hung nearly to her navel caused all sorts of ideas to pop into his mind.

Preferably her wearing just the pendant, or maybe the hammered arm band around her upper arm.

They both gave her a pagan look. Jesslyn’s naked body dressed in nothing but those two pieces of jewelry gave him several lascivious ideas.

“…And it’s not like this is my first date since Jerrod.” Her words pulled him back from his fantasy. “I’ve had others. There was Tim’s ‘L’ friend, but that’s not important.”

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“What ‘L’ friend?”

One of the waiters came back and set platters of food in front of them. She waited until the person left then, waved her hand absently. “Leo, Lloyd. No! Lyonel. Lyle? Hell, I don’t remember.”

She was right, that man obviously wasn’t important.

Aiden finished off his champagne and watched as she talked some more, the way her hands moved, the way she leaned forward to express a point.

He’d planned to fly her to Aspen tonight, but his parents called and wanted to use the jet to fly out sometime late tomorrow or the next day. So he sent it back to Maryland that morning.

This was working out wonderfully. He liked having her all to himself in his hotel.

Maybe that was incredibly selfish of him, but so be it. The dining room was empty and soft music played from hidden speakers. A romantic evening for two.

At least he hoped to hell she thought the evening romantic. There was pressuring her and there was hope.

Didn’t remember the other guy’s name? By the time the night was over, Aiden knew there was no way in hell she’d ever forget his name. Or he hoped so anyway.