Hot to Touch (Kimani Romance) (14 page)

“I
’m coming, I’m coming! Hold on!”

Shane slumped against the door of Emma’s apartment when he heard her yell.

He’d been knocking on her door for nearly ten minutes, after blowing up her doorbell for an additional five.

From the corner of his eye, he spied her neighbor, two doors down, peaking out from a cracked door and turned to face the woman.

“You
do
know what time it is, don’t you?” she asked, a scowl on her face. Then with an indignant “Humph!” the woman spun around and went back inside her apartment, slamming the door shut.

Shortly after his arrival at the San Antonio air
port, he’d contacted her editor to make sure she was still home.

Within twenty-four hours he’d left Lander on his way to find Emma. He hadn’t known her address, but Roebuck had given him her editor’s name and number and he’d phoned him.

He hadn’t done more than identify himself before Bill had laid into him, calling Shane out as an egotistical jackass who didn’t know his butt from a hole in the ground. Shane had listened, cringing at the various ways Bill explained, in minute details, just how much of a jerk he was.

Shane interrupted the conversation by saying three words. Three words had stopped her editor, mid-curse.

“I love her.”

There had been a significant pause. When Bill spoke again, his voice, although still gruff, had lost some of its steam, some of its anger.

Shane had held his breath, expecting the man to give him the third degree. When he didn’t, when he gave him Emma’s address instead, he’d expelled the breath in one long whoosh of relief. One hurdle down.

Before ending the call, Bill had informed Shane that he had once spent six months with the military’s special forces division during an in-depth story on the myriad ways a soldier could get information from an unwilling captive. And a warning of what he could and
would
do to certain parts of Shane’s anatomy if he were to hurt “his girl” again. Shane had assured him he had no
intention of ever hurting her again, if she were to take him back.

After touching down in Austin, he’d rented a car and driven through the late afternoon traffic toward her apartment complex.

To say he was anxious was putting it mildly. With his nerves stretched tight, Shane had driven around the large apartment complex for well over an hour, thinking and practicing out loud what he’d say to her when he saw her. Several scenarios came to mind when he thought of what her response would be when she saw him. It could go one of two ways.

Either she would allow him inside and listen patiently as he tried to explain his actions. He’d apologize for being a fool while begging her forgiveness, after which, with a tear in her eye, she would then jump into his arms and forgive him before they’d make mad passionate love.

Or…before he could open his mouth, she’d curse him out with enough gusto to make a drunken sailor on shore leave look tame.

He was hoping for the former.

He pushed away from the door when he heard movement on the other side, holding his breath when he felt her peering through the peephole.

“Emma…it’s me. Shane. I’d just like to talk to you for a minute. Please.”

When his pleading met silence, he continued. “I know you have every right to ignore me, to not open the door and walk away from this. I know that.” He
stopped, ran a frustrated hand through his hair and leaned against the door.

“But, I’m asking…begging that you don’t. I’m begging you to let me in, to give me a chance to talk to you.”

No way. No the hell he didn’t. No way was Shane on the other side of the door, pleading for her to let him in.

No, he didn’t have the utter gall to even think she’d consider it. Not after telling her to get the hell out, that he never wanted to see her again and making her feel lower than the dirt beneath his feet.

He’d told her in no uncertain terms what he thought of her, how immature she was, how self-centered. The fact that he was on her doorstep should mean nothing to her. She should walk away and let him bang at the door all night if he wanted. Let him know how it felt to be hurt, ignored and disregarded as though
he
meant nothing, as though the weeks they’d spent together meant nothing…

But instead she broke new Olympic speed records for unlatching the three locks on her door in less than two seconds.

She flung the door open, and there he stood. All six-foot-plus of hard, fine man staring down at her. She scanned his face, her hungry gaze roaming his body, her heartbeat thumping erratically against her chest, her love for him eclipsing her anger, despite her avowals to the contrary.

His facial expression was neutral, and had she not
come to know him as she had, she’d swear that he didn’t care one way or another, that the pleading tone she’d heard in his voice had merely been a figment of her wishful imagination.

Her gaze was drawn to the small tic at the corner of his mouth before she met his eyes again. They were filled with enough emotion that she caught her breath in wonder. But she hardened her heart against him, remembering the pain he’d caused her when he’d thrown her away.

She crossed her arms over her body, one bare foot tapping out an angry beat against her soft carpet, ready to give completely over to the fury that strummed through her.

“
What
do you want?”

“Emma…please. Hear me out, baby.”

“You can stop with the ‘baby’ stuff. You lost the right to call me that when you told me—hmmm—what was it you said?” she asked, scrunching her brows together in mock consideration. She snapped her fingers together. “Oh yeah, ‘You’re nothing more than a self-centered opportunist.’”

His face washed with a dark red stain across his cheeks.

“Would you please hear me out before you pass judgment? Please? I was wron—”

“You’re damn right you were wrong!” Emma cut in, hands on her hips, warming to her anger.

“I should have listened to you when you tried to explai—”

“No!” she yelled, her temper rising with her voice
in equal measure. “Instead you chose to take the easy route and just come out blasting me, accusing me of—”

“I know. I should have listened.”

They both stopped. Emma’s chest rose in agitation. “Just go. I don’t think I’m ready to forgive you that easily.”

“Just like that, Emma?”

“Yeah. Just like that, Shane.”

“I don’t think so.”

He advanced toward her, slamming the door behind him.

“Stop right there. Don’t even think about coming any closer. If you do, I won’t be accountable for my actions,” she replied, throwing her hand out to ward him off, her jaw tight in anger.

When he continued to walk toward her, Emma’s bravado went up in smoke. She staggered back.

As he advanced into the room, Shane’s hungry eyes raked over her, starting at her coral-pink-colored toenails, past her bared, pretty brown legs and up over her breasts, her nipples stabbing against the thin fabric of the shirt she wore, until he met her gaze.

“Remember when I told you I’d laid to rest the ghosts of my past?” he asked, sitting down next to her on the sofa, close.

“Yes, I remember.”

Emma glanced at him warily, uncomfortable with how close he was and the hint of his unique scent brush
ing across her senses. She was even more uncomfortable with the way it made her feel.

“I was telling the truth. I mean I thought I
had.
But I guess some of them were still there.”

There was a short pause.

“When Kyle died, I didn’t know who to blame. I was so damn mad, so hurt…so pissed off…I blamed the only person I could.”

“Ciara.”

“What do you…how do you know? Wait. Never mind. It was Roebuck.” He answered his own question and she nodded.

He drew in a deep breath. “So you know. For a long time I blamed her. She was the reason he went into that cabin in the first place. Had she not gone inside, directly against orders, Kyle wouldn’t have had to go in after her. And he’d still be alive.

“But an elderly man who owned one of the cabins begged her to try and retrieve a strongbox he kept in his bedroom that held the only mementos he had of his deceased wife, and Ciara went inside to try and get it. She cared. She really cared. She didn’t think of the danger to herself. She did what many people wouldn’t have. She did what Kyle would have done.”

“Yet you blamed her for Kyle going inside after her?”

“She was handy.” The admission was made in a low voice, one filled with shame. “But it wasn’t her fault. I know that now. I think I always have.”

She surprised him. “I…I can understand why you felt like that. Why you hated her for so long. At the time it
seemed like she took away the one person in your life that you felt ever really cared about you. Maybe she represented for you not just women who’d disappointed you but everyone who had.”

“Oh yeah, Dr. Phil, you think so?” he asked with a subtle smile.

“Well, it doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that.”

“I suppose not. Just a sexy photojournalist.”

Even though his quip didn’t elicit a smile back from her, he breathed in a sigh of relief when he noticed her body had relaxed, losing some of its tension.

When he inched closer to her she didn’t move away. Instead, conscious or not, she leaned in closer to him.

The gesture told him she still cared for him. He hoped she felt more than mere affection, prayed she felt a fraction of what he felt for her.

“Being angry at the world seemed to be my MO for a long time. My mother deserting me, Kyle’s death and Ciara’s involvement—it all got jumbled up in my mind, and it was just easier to keep women at a distance. It was a hell of a lot less painful that way.”

“And that’s why you had objections to me coming to the station?”

“It was. And it was stupid.
I
was stupid. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard, shouldn’t have tried to get rid of you. And I damn sure shouldn’t have accused you of grandstanding when you jumped from the plane. I was wrong. I know that now. Can you ever forgive me, Emma?” He turned with pleading eyes toward her.

Emma understood all of his reasons, even empathized
with him. But she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so quickly.

“What you said to me was painful. Not just because of the words, but because you were the first person I felt comfortable enough with to open myself up to. But at the first sign of perceived misjudgment, you threw me to the wolves, as though none of what we shared mattered. It hurt.”

This time, feeling bold, he leaned over, brought her close to his body, staring down into her face, framing it with his hands.

“I know. God, I know I hurt you. But please forgive me. Give me another chance, Emma. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I love you.”

At his halting declaration of love, Emma’s heart ached, throbbed, the love she felt for him nearly suffocating her. Yes, he’d hurt her more than anyone, mostly because she loved him so much. But she needed him, too. He completed her in ways beyond the superficial. She’d never realized just how lonely she was, how much she needed someone to love, and someone who would love her just as much as she loved him.

Casting doubts to the side, she turned to face him. In her eyes he read the answer. His eyes shut briefly before he lifted her from where she stood beside him and brought her close, kissing her with an intensity that seared her flesh, branded her heart with his.

“I love you, Emma. I love you,” he moaned against her mouth.

“And I love you, Shane. I love you.”

T
he light from the bedside lamp cast a golden sheen across Emma’s skin, highlighting its perfection and lending her an ethereal look, belying the strength her beautiful skin clothed.

After their declaration of love, Shane had picked Emma up in his arms, and, with her guidance, led her to her bedroom.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

The love she had for him shone in her dark brown eyes as he stroked inside her, their gazes locked. So much love that he briefly closed his eyes, unable to believe his good fortune. As he made love to her he mentally sent up prayers of gratitude that she had come into his life.

When a gentle smile lifted the corners of her mouth,
as though she knew his thoughts, he leaned down and placed a kiss against her lips, his hips gently swaying against hers, their lovemaking relaxed and sweet.

He groaned against her mouth, biting at her lips’ perfect fullness, his need for her bordering on desperate. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get close enough.

“I love you, Shane,” Emma said once again.

“Enough to marry me?”

His whispered question brought her fully awake. Emma lay beneath Shane, her body fluid, loose, completely relaxed from their lovemaking, so much so that she didn’t think she would be able to move.

“What?”

“You said you loved me. Do you love me enough to marry me?” he clarified.

Emma was caught off balance, her mind still reeling from his return and their lovemaking.

“Remember when you mentioned wanting to write a book?”

She nodded, remembering when she’d casually shared her dream of taking a year off to write something more than articles. That idea had been shoved back to the corner of her mind to think about later, when she wasn’t chasing a story or tearing her hair out trying to beat a deadline. In short, it was a dream.

“Yes, but what has that got—”

He kissed her, cutting off her words.

“Hear me out.”

She laughed lightly. “Okay. I’m all ears.”

“As you know, there aren’t many full-time jumpers. I’m one of a few of them.”

“Yes…”

“Sometimes I travel, jump fires everywhere. I’ve even jumped them outside the U.S.”

“Okay…”

“What would you think about writing a fictional book about that? I don’t know, you could place the story anywhere. It doesn’t even have to be about jumpers. Although it would be hot as hell. Pun intended,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Emma groaned and then laughed along with him at his lame joke.

“Seriously, Emma,” he said, once their laughter subsided.

“I don’t know, Shane.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know if that’s what I want.”

“You don’t know if you want to write the book…or you don’t know if you want me?” he asked, his face tightening.

He moved away far enough to see her face. Reaching out, he placed both of his hands on either side of her and she closed her eyes, unable to cope with the raw emotion, the hope and fear reflected in them.

“No! Open your eyes. Look at me.”

She did, swallowing down the tears burning her throat.

“I love you. More than I thought I could ever love anyone. I probably don’t deserve you.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “But if you give me a chance I promise I won’t hurt you. I’ll never reject you again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never
feel alone again, make sure you never feel nothing but love.”

“Shane, I don’t know. Is this what you want? Really?” she asked, a small catch in her voice, tears burning the corners of her eyes. “Is this what
I
want? Or are we two people who are so used to being alone, emotionally, that we can’t—”

“Don’t say it. Emma, please…” He stopped, drawing in a breath.

He gathered her back into his arms. “All I know is that I never knew what real happiness was until you came into my life. I never knew what real love was. When you left, I realized how empty my life would be without you in it.” His voice broke. Clearing his throat, he continued. “I love you. I love everything about you. Even those weird little pig-sounding snores you make in your sleep,” he said, and she punched him lightly, giggling softly past the tears choking her.

“I love everything about you, Emma. We can work on everything else. Hell, if you want to keep doing photojournalism and traveling, I’ll give up jumping.”

“Shane!”

“I’m serious, Emma. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it means we’ll be together.”

He claimed her lips with his. Turning her body, he placed her beneath him, not releasing her mouth.

Emma, one who was rarely at a loss for words, found herself unable to speak, her mind in a chaotic whirl.

Her eyes searched his, for something, anything, to help her as she considered his request. What she saw,
what came shining brightly through, was honesty…and love.

And she loved him just as much as he loved her. Loved him from the first time she’d seen him scowling at her. Loved him with everything she had.

Their time together had been short, but Emma felt as though she’d known him for a thousand lifetimes, in that place that defied logic. That place that told her their love would last a lifetime. In that place that whispered to her to jump now, grab him and don’t let go.

She had no intention of letting him go.

A smile began to blossom on his face as he read her response. With a shout, he grabbed her and hugged her as though he would never let her go. Emma clung to him as he showered her face with his kisses.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answered, laughing happily. And although he already knew, the smile on his handsome face grew brighter when he drew away from her.

“I will never let you down, again, baby. I promise you. I’ll always be there for you.”

When he tried to bring her back into his arms, she pushed back, holding him at bay, one side of her lips quirking.

“Even if I decide to jump into another fire?”

He barked out a laugh. “Only if I’m jumping right there beside you!”