The Predator (19 page)

The familiar sensations rocketed through her, turning her limbs liquid. She reached out and held his face between her hands, anchoring herself to him.

Emotions raged through her bloodstream and pounded in her ears. The noise receded around them and there was nothing and no one but Brandon.

Time ceased to have any meaning. It was only when he pulled back that she came to her senses. Blinking, she looked up and noticed the waiter standing near Brandon’s chair, his arms laden with soup bowls and plates.

Nothing had existed but Brandon and his kiss. Heat flooded her face. How could she have forgotten they were in the middle of a busy café during lunch hour?

She peeked at him. A grin tugged at his lips. He looked totally unabashed. She wished she could have borrowed some of his audaciousness.

“You always did look adorably confused after a thorough snog session.”

Alex blushed again and refused to look at him. “And you’ve always had such a way with words.”

He reached out and took her hand, trying hard to look contrite. “Forgive me?”

She smiled and lightly batted his hand away. Picking up her soup spoon, she began to eat. The conversation remained general, but flowed with ease. Years before it had been that way between them and it felt good to be at ease again.

After they’d finished and the waiter had cleared away their bowls, Brandon’s face turned serious.

“When can I see you again, Alex? I know we need to take it slow, but now that I’ve tasted you again, the waiting will be unbearable.”

Desire stirred again at his words. She wanted him, too. Pure and simple. Life was too short for games. Besides, she was on borrowed time. Sooner or later, her conscience would refuse to be quieted. Sooner or later, she’d have to confess.

Her gaze captured his. “What are you doing tonight?”

* * *

Back at the squad room, Alex couldn’t help but sneak a look at Brandon where he sat a few desks away. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up at her and winked. Heat rose up her neck. She was like a schoolgirl with a big secret. She smiled back at him. The hours until the end of their shift suddenly yawned ahead of her.

Knowing she’d never get anything done if she kept looking at him, she pulled her chair in close to her desk and made an effort to concentrate.

She reached over, she picked up the phone and dialed her mother’s number then drew in a deep breath when it was answered.

“Hi, Mom. It’s me. I was wondering if you could do me a favor? I’m meeting someone after work and I was wondering if you could look after Sam?”

“Of course I can. Are you seeing Phillip again?”

Alex sucked in another breath and then let it out on a rush. She might as well get it over with. “No, Mom. It’s not Phillip. I’m seeing Brandon.”

Silence greeted her. She counted the seconds. “It’s just drinks, Mom.”

“Brandon? Wow, that’s great, honey.”

“You don’t have to say that, Mom.”

“No, I mean it. I love Brandon. You know that. And I’ve told you before I don’t think you’ve ever gotten over him. You just took me a little by surprise. Last time we spoke about this, it seemed like that was the last thing on your mind.”

Alex lowered her voice. “I know. But things have changed. I really want this to work out, Mom.”

“I take it you’ve told him about Sam?”

Alex bit her lip. “Not yet.”

“Alex.” Her mother’s voice held a note of warning.

“I know, I know. I just want to give us a chance.”

“It’s not right, Alex. You need to tell him.”

Alex sighed. “I know. I will. I promise. Just not right now.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Nerves churned inside Alex’s stomach. She leaned over the sink in the staff restroom and swallowed some water. Pulling her hairbrush out of her handbag, she gave her hair another few swipes and wished she’d worn something a little less businesslike. Her tailored skirt and jacket and pale blue silk blouse were appropriate for the office, but she would have preferred something a little more casual for a dinner date.

Date
? She grimaced with annoyance. It wasn’t a date. Not really. They were married. Husbands and wives didn’t date.

It was a peace offering. An opportunity to mend fences. A chance to start again. Maybe. Hopefully.

Riffling through her handbag, she pulled out a tube of dark red lipstick and applied it with skillful precision. With a last glance in the mirror, she tossed her handbag over her shoulder and headed toward the door.

She didn’t know why she was going to so much trouble with her appearance. After all, he’d been working only a few feet away from her all day. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t know what she looked like naked.

The thought sent a nervous thrill rushing through her veins, edged with more than a hint of excitement. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to feel anything other than what was required to get through the daily grind.

She’d had high hopes for Phillip—that, if nothing else, her self-imposed man drought could be brought to an end. But it hadn’t worked out that way and now she was going to meet Brandon.

She pushed open the door that led into the squad room. Brandon had already left. He’d suggested they keep whatever it was that was happening between them, to themselves. She was more than happy to agree.

She didn’t know what was happening. She could do without the curious stares of her colleagues while they worked it out. Especially the concerned glances she’d been fielding from Ryan.

Not that she didn’t appreciate where he was coming from. She was glad he cared. Glad to have him as a friend. She didn’t have many of those.

When her marriage had fallen apart, she’d wanted to keep as low a profile as possible. And the fewer people who knew about her pregnancy, the better. For the most part, her old friends had been willing to leave her alone—to give her time to lick her wounds and recover from the breakdown of her marriage. She hadn’t felt like returning calls or texts or welcoming visitors.

Over the years, the calls and texts had dwindled and her friends had stopped asking about her. She missed them sometimes, but usually Sam and her mother were enough. Besides, most of the time she was too tired and drained from her job to even think about socializing. Her mother took Sam to all kinds of interesting places because she had the time and knew what would engage him. Because of Alex’s schedule and her lack of energy during her time off, the biggest effort she made was to take Sam to the park on the occasional Saturday.

She guessed she’d have to make more effort when he started school. He’d want to have friends over or go to their places. That involved interaction and effort with other parents. The thought didn’t exactly excite her.

But, if things worked out with Brandon, it would be different. He’d help her negotiate the delicate maze of socializing with kindergarten parents on their time off. She wouldn’t be on her own.

Shaking her head, Alex opened the door that led outside. She was letting her imagination run away with her. They hadn’t even spent a night together and she was having him join them for the school run.

She had to take things slowly—get to know him again. Find the right time to tell him he had a son.

Tension tightened in her belly. She was walking a dangerous tightrope. Not telling him could be disastrous, but telling him at the wrong time could destroy any chance they had of rekindling their love.

She was willing to take the risk. She had no choice. She could only hope and pray she was making the right decision.

* * *

The bar, with sleek décor and dim designer lighting, was one of the newer, trendier establishments that were popping up around the city. The crowd was largely made up of glamorous advertising types, far removed from the darkly suited, conservative members of law enforcement. Alex knew that was precisely the reason Brandon had chosen it. They were as likely to run into someone they knew as it was going to start raining elephants.

Alex eased out her breath and willed the tension to leave her body. She spied Brandon at a table in a secluded corner, nursing a glass of beer.

Her gaze traveled over his profile. Dark stubble shadowed his cheeks. His hair was slightly disheveled—like he’d run his hand through it more than once—but even looking mussed, his impressive physique filled out his crisp dark blue suit and the navy pinstriped tie around his neck was still curved into a perfect knot. He’d worked a twelve-hour shift and yet could still have sold products for men in any one of the myriad glossy magazines that lined the newsstands.

“What are you drinking?” he asked as she took the seat opposite him.

“A glass of red wine would be great, thanks.”

He signaled the barman, who immediately came over and took her order. When the man left, Brandon turned to look at her and smiled.

Her heart skipped a beat. Even with just a smile, he turned her on. Years ago, it used to irritate her, but now she embraced the reality. Time had shown her how quickly life could be turned upside down and how something that was good and special and beautiful could slip through her fingers like dust, blown away with the breeze, gone before she realized it.

“You look good, Alex.” His low murmur sent a shiver of desire down her spine.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.” Emboldened by the flash of fire in his eyes, she snared his gaze and held it. Blood thudded in her ears and her palms went damp.

The look in his eyes intensified, devouring her with its heat. Her lips parted. His gaze zeroed in on them.

“I so want to kiss you again. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since lunch.”

Desire licked low in her belly. Her hand strayed to his thigh under the table. Hard muscles bunched beneath her touch. “Me, too,” she breathed, leaning in close.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the barman returning with her drink. Brandon cursed under his breath. Alex pulled back and waited while the man placed the glass before her. Brandon reached for his wallet and she murmured her thanks. She’d always loved his take-charge way of dealing with things.

Some women felt the need to fly the flag for feminism, but Alex had always appreciated the differences between the sexes and had loved to feel protected and cared for by the man in her life. She wasn’t one of those women who felt weakened or threatened when a man did things for her. Sometimes, she thought she should have been born in the fifties.

Reaching over, she brought the glass of wine to her mouth. It was rich and full-bodied—just what she needed. She licked a droplet off her lips, savoring the taste and Brandon’s heated gaze. She trembled from the force of emotion behind his dark, dark eyes.

“Come home with me, Alex.”

Excitement shivered through her. “I-I thought we were taking this slow.”

His breath tickled her ear. His voice was rough and low. “I’ve waited more than four years to feel you under me again. I’m done with slow.”

Her nipples tightened. Flames burned inside her. They needed to take things slowly. They needed to get to know each other again. Didn’t they?

But she needed him. Now.

Emptying her drink in three healthy swallows, she watched Brandon do the same. Setting their glasses down on the bar with a decisive clink, he took her hand and led her to the exit.

* * *

Brandon snuck a peek at Alex from where she sat inches away from him in the passenger seat of his low-slung, silver Mustang. He had to fold his long legs into it, but he loved the purr of its powerful engine as he cruised through the streets of Sydney.

Being early in the week, traffic was light and they made it to Bondi in less than half an hour. Alex had remained silent on the ride over and he was a little concerned she was having second thoughts.

Not that he would pressure her into this. If she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready. He wanted her one hundred per cent keen or he didn’t want her at all. Well, no, that wasn’t quite true. He was happy to have her any way she allowed, but if she needed more time, he’d give it to her without complaint.

He pulled over to the side of the road and parked outside his unit complex. Alex climbed out of the car and looked around.

“Wow, those shrubs have grown. They were hardly out of the ground when I was here last.”

She indicated the row of potted miniature oleanders. He’d barely noticed the plants on his way in and out of the building, but they were now as high as the steel fence surrounding the complex and provided a thick screen from the street. “Yeah, I guess.”

She gave a nervous little laugh. “I can see you’re just as interested in all things green as you ever were.”

He reached out and stopped her progress with a gentle hand and turned her to face him. “It’s all right, sweetheart. We’ll take things slowly. I’m nervous, too.”

Her gaze skittered away and she breathed in quick inhalations.

“You’re right, I am a little nervous. It’s been a… It’s been awhile. Maybe even more than awhile.”

He pulled her in tight against him and held her close, breathing in the warm, womanly scent of her. “It’s me, remember? There’s nothing about you I don’t love.”

She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you.”

She lifted her head and spoke again. “You haven’t seen me since I had Sam. I’ve…changed.”

Discomfort and embarrassment clouded her features and his heart swelled with tenderness. He pulled her in hard against his chest and squeezed. “I couldn’t care less what you look like. You’ve always been beautiful to me. Of course your body’s changed. You’ve had a baby. A wonderful, little boy. The changes to your body are nothing but a celebration of his life. You should embrace the lumps and bumps.”

She offered him a wobbly smile. “Who said anything about lumps and bumps?”

He smiled back at her. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

* * *

Alex followed him up the short flight of stairs and waited for him to unlock the front door. The white, three-storey building was much as she remembered. It had weathered the years well and it looked like the exterior had received a coat of paint in recent times.