Hunting (13 page)

“
That’s why it’s so
cold.”

“
Yes. What were you
dreaming about?” Malachi brushed a hand down her hair. “It helps to
talk about them, you know?”

“
With you? I don’t think
so.” This time the sarcasm in her voice made him smile. Her number
one defense mechanism. Sarcasm. Always at the forefront. She’d
snark at him when the lights were on, he realized; but in the dark
when she was vulnerable, she clung, cuddled, and needed
reassurance. He didn’t mind that at all. He far preferred this
softer Julia to the one that bit and spit at him all the time. And
if she’d let him, he’d hold her all night.

“
You’re not the only one
who has nightmares. Georgia and Ana both have woken me before.
Ana’s got a scream that once woke an entire hotel after she’d had a
particularly bad one.” Malachi slid from the bed, shivering. “Stay
here, I’ll get those extra blankets from the bureau. It’ll be a
cold night, but we’ll be fine and I’m sure there’s a backup
generator.”

He hurried, draping the
three generic cotton blankets he’d found over the comforter. It
wasn’t ideal, but with the two of them staying close they should be
able to generate enough body heat to be ok.

Her teeth were chattering
when he slid back under the blankets. She didn’t fight him when he
wrapped his arms around her and tucked her back against his chest.
The smell of her hair surrounded him.

“
So what do you dream
about, then?” Her words were low and he almost missed
them.

He thought for a moment
before answering. “Failure.”

She sniffed.
“Figures.”

“
Not nice.”

She sighed then relaxed
against him. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

“
I see Georgia on a Seattle
rooftop bleeding to death in Hellbrook’s arms from that sniper. I
see Ana stuck in an elevator as the building burns around her. I
see you lying on Georgia’s floor with Matthew crying over you, and
worst of all...I hear your actual screams as we’re attacked in my
own damned driveway. Each and every time I can’t get to any of you.
I know I failed all of you—especially you. And then I wonder which
of the people I care about I’ll fail next. And when I wake, I
wonder which one I will fail completely. Who will die in front of
me.”

***

Jules felt the breath back
up in her throat as he voiced what was her deepest fear. She’d
lived his fear. She’d failed with Rick and Brian. They’d died and
she’d not been able to help them. Her Rick had been dead when she’d
reached their car, but Brian had lived for a quarter of an hour.
Despite all her medical training she’d not been able to save
Matthew’s father.

“
I understand.” She
whispered the words because she did understand. “It was Stephenson
this time, and he’d pulled Matthew from the cabinet where he was
hiding and took him. I couldn’t stop him from taking him, then I
couldn’t find them. I kept ending up in the North St. Louis
basement.”

His arms tightened around
her just as they had in that basement. He had extremely strong
arms; she’d noticed that about him before. Now they were warm and
comforting. She needed that. Just for a little while.

“
How often do you dream
about that day?”

“
Couple of times a week,”
Jules admitted. Had she told anyone else that? What did it mean
that she still dreamed about Roger Stephenson hurting her? Hurting
Georgia and Mattie.

“
Because they are your
family, love.” She felt his words against the skin of her neck and
she fought the urge to shiver and arch closer. He was warm and
strong and real. “They mean the most to you.”

“
Yes.”

“
I’ve spoken with MCFP
Springfield about Stephenson. He’s never getting out.”

“
I know.” That was one
thing that consoled her. She understood Stephenson’s motivations to
some extent. Grief and loss could drive a person insane, and
knowing that he had killed the woman he loved had driven him over
the edge. But he’d nearly killed her and could have killed Georgia
or Hell. That she couldn’t forgive. “Eddie keeps me
informed.”

“
Eddie. Why do you call him
that and no one else?” She heard the irritation and it made her
mouth quirk. Why did it bother him so badly? It was just a
nickname.

“
Brian did.” Jules leaned
her head back against the headboard. “We’d teased him that Eddie
would eat him alive for just looking at Georgia. Brian said he’d
walk right in, shake Eddie’s hand, and all would be great. And he
did. He and Rick—and I—called him Eddie after that.”

“
I can’t imagine anyone
walking up to Ed Dennis and calling him Eddie. He must have been a
remarkable man.”

“
He was. They both were.”
She’d never spoken of her husband with anyone other than Georgia
and it had her disconcerted. The pain was still there, but it
wasn’t quite as sharp as she expected. She felt herself smile as
she remembered the brash way her brother-in-law had walked into
Edward Dennis’s office that day. “Always laughing about something.
Anything. Their patients absolutely loved them. I sold their
practice after...”

He said nothing, but his
arm tightened around her. For just one moment she wanted to do
nothing more than lay her head on his chest and be close to someone
again. Her favorite times with Rick had been when they’d curl up
together on the couch and watch reruns.

But this wasn’t Rick and
she was certainly aware of that. Jules pulled away. He let her. It
was a long time before they slept.

She woke with the sun in
her eyes and curled on his lap. On his very aroused male lap. God,
wasn’t anything on this man normal? Or at least normal sized? He
didn’t feel like the average-sized male, the part of him pressing
into her hip felt huge. So huge she was afraid to move. One of two
things could happen—he could wake up and catch her on his lap or
she could inadvertently hurt him.

Still, how the heck had she
ended up on his lap in the first place? Her arms were around his
neck; his head was thrown back against the headboard, and his
hand...

His left hand was beneath
the jersey she wore, his fingers wicked and assured against her
skin. Damn him—how many nights had she lay awake missing this very
type of feeling?

Too many to count. But
she’d never expected to feel the answering hunger again. She
covered his hand, holding his fingers in place. Her skin burned
beneath his. “What are you doing?”

“
I think it’s pretty
obvious.”

“
Some things are.” She
tried not to shift against him too much. “I think I’m going to
sleep on the couch.”

“
My little coward. One day
you’re going to run right into a wall. And then you’ll have nowhere
else to go.” He tangled his free hand in her hair and tilted her
head back. Jules swallowed. When had she felt so achingly
vulnerable with a man? His eyes burned when he looked at
her.

“
I’m not a coward. I’m just
prudent.” She was scared. Terrified, shivering. Aroused. She was a
doctor; she knew what she felt was normal and natural.
Physiological response to physical stimuli. Of course, it was
normal. They were both healthy, unattached adults who were free to
engage in whatever sexual behaviors they wanted. However they
wanted. No one would know. And no one would judge.

If she wanted to take this
further, she could. Only the two of them would ever
know.

“
Julia, you have about
three seconds to hit me, or move away, or something.
Anything.”

The choice was hers. Why
was it so hard to make it? This was Malachi. He might get under her
skin, might drive her absolutely crazy with his irritating arrogant
ways. But it was Malachi, and he’d never hurt her. He might
steamroll right over her, but she knew the truth about him. He was
one of the good guys.

What would it be like to
just enjoy him for a little while?

Jules leaned down and for
the first time, she kissed him.

***

Malachi couldn’t believe
it. He’d thought she’d slap him, slug him, or just push him away.
He hadn’t expected her to cling, and to kiss him with more passion
than he’d ever have expected. He pulled her closer, reveling in the
feel of her body pressing against his. Julia Bellows might be too
damned skinny, but she had curves that were definitely female. His
hand slipped beneath her shirt and traced her spine. She wasn’t
wearing a bra—he’d learned that earlier. And now he took full
advantage of that.

She pulled away, dragging
in a deep breath.

“
Let me take this off.” He
didn’t know if his words were pleading or not, but it sure felt
like he’d beg at any minute. Nothing mattered to him more in that
moment than getting that jersey over her head. He felt like a
teenage boy with his first girl. She hesitated, then nodded, giving
him silent consent. He pulled the jersey over her shoulders and
tossed it aside. She sat before him and he could just make out the
shape of her in the dim light from the cell phone he’d yet to shut
off. Julia was beautiful, and he wished the damned power would come
back on so he could see her more fully.

Still, what he couldn’t see
he could always feel…

He touched her gently,
knowing she’d probably not been this close to another man since the
death of her husband. That humbled him, because he’d seen firsthand
those videos, seen the love she had felt for that other man. And
he’d had no difficulty seeing the love Rick had felt for
her.

For a minute he felt guilty
because he didn’t love her and she didn’t love him. He cared about
her, probably more than he had any woman in years. But he didn’t
love her, and he knew that. And he seriously doubted she had any
feelings for him beyond the physical. And irritation.

Maybe that was what they
both needed right then?

There was a connection
between them, and had been from the moment they’d woken tangled
together in that North St. Louis basement. Maybe this was just the
culmination of that connection?

Her hands were tugging at
his own shirt, and he lifted them both until she was straddling him
and he was sitting up, her clutched in his lap. The shirt went over
his head, and then he had her pressed against his chest and was
kissing her with all the fervor and pent up frustration he’d ever
felt for the harridan in his arms. He flipped them both again,
putting her beneath him. He kissed her and touched her, and her
hands were just as frantic on his skin.

It was over almost before
it ever really got started, both of them apparently needing the
fast, hard loving that they’d engaged in. When his heart was
finally back to a somewhat normal human rhythm again he tucked her
against his chest and covered them both with the
blankets.

The scent of strawberries
and Julia surrounded him and her arms were around him.

But he had no difficulty
knowing when she withdrew from him emotionally. Regret filled
him.

“
This isn’t a bad thing.”
He was the first to speak. “We’re healthy, unattached adults, with
a lot in common. It’s not wrong to want to be together.”

“
It’s sex. Pure and
simple.” So why did he hear hesitation in her words?

“
Hmm. Damned good sex,
too.” The light beside the bed flickered on, the switch still
engaged from where he’d tried it earlier. She looked beautiful,
sexy…and hurt…in the dim glow. He pulled her over to straddle him.
“Julia…”

“
Please, don’t call me
that. Not now.”

That pissed him off. Was
she still thinking of her husband? Was that what this was about?
“Jules. What are you thinking right now?”

“
That once again in my life
everything I do happens at the wrong damned time. I don’t want a
relationship right now. I’ve got other things I have to worry about
right now. Like today, and Ruthie. That has to be the most
important part of my life right now. And…and…I don’t want to care
about a man again.” She shook her head, sending her hair brushing
his shoulders.

“
I understand about Ruthie,
and I get that she has to be your number one focus right now. But
it’s not like I’ve mentioned anything permanent. We’re adults, we
can have an affair if we want. And it will affect no one but us.
How is that wrong?”

***

It wasn’t wrong, he wasn’t
wrong. Jules knew that. Despite feeling like a big idiot for making
a stupid decision in a weak moment, she knew that what they had
done wasn’t the end of the world.

So why did she feel like it
changed things between them, and probably not for the
good?

He looked so…well…so damned
perfect there, with the blankets falling off his perfect muscled
chest, his hair messed up from her fingers running through it, his
skin still flushed from what they’d just done together. And she
felt so…not perfect straddling him while she attempted to catch her
breath. Everything about her was always screwed up. So confused,
jumbled, a real mess.

He could so derail her from
her plans. Oh, not her plans for Ruthie. Nothing could change
those. But she had a clear cut roadmap for the rest of her life,
and it didn’t include a detour affair with someone like him. That
way could only lay trouble. And she told him so. “I don’t want a
relationship. I don’t want what George has, or Ana has. I’m not
good at that. With Rick, it was hard enough. I don’t want to go
through that again.”