Trust Me (21 page)

He stopped pacing long enough to face her. "What about your own safety, Skye?" he asked, sliding his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

She stared at the wine in her glass. "That's another issue entirely."

"No, it's not!" He crossed the room and bent down to stare into her eyes again. "You scare the hell out of me."

She studied him, felt the chemistry between them despite his frustration. "In more ways than one, right?"

He'd obviously noticed the changed inflection in her voice because his eyes fell to her mouth. "You're a temptation," he admitted.

A temptation he was determined to resist. And, after speaking to Lynnette, Skye was equally committed to avoiding any deeper involvement.

She didn't need the complications of falling in love with a man who wouldn't allow himself to love her back.

She scooted her chair away from him, putting more distance between them. "Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about that anymore."

He stayed where he was, leaning on the table. "Why not?"

"Because I'm no longer interested."

Straightening, he folded his arms and watched her from beneath half-closed eyelids. The sexual tension between them called her a liar, but she was hoping he didn't feel that tension quite as strongly as she did. "You've met someone else?"

She held up her glass in a toast. "Not yet. But I haven't been very open to the idea. Until now."

"Until now," he repeated. "Now you're looking for someone?"

She downed the rest of her wine. "Why not? I deserve a man who wants what I have to offer."

His scowl darkened as he drew close again and lowered his voice.

"Sounds like you're interested in a serious relationship."

"I am." She ran a finger around the rim of her glass because she knew what her eyes would reveal if she looked up at him, especially now that he was only inches away. "Maybe even marriage."

"What provoked this decision?"

She risked a quick glance at his face. "You did." Even while she was 133

speaking to his ex-wife, she'd been harboring a glimmer of hope and defiance. It wasn't until she was sitting at David's kitchen table, wanting to touch him so badly her arms ached, that she realized how stupid she was to nurture any feelings for him.

"I did?" he repeated.

"Of course." She stopped trying to hide her emotions and gazed up at him. "I'm in love with you, David. I want to make love with you--but you have nothing to give me."

His expression grew tormented. "You think I'm not dying to carry you into my bedroom right now?"

"You can't. At least not without feeling terrible about it. And what kind of relationship would that allow us?"

He didn't answer, didn't move, but his muscles bunched as if he was fighting the impulse to do just that.

"So..." She took a deep breath. "It's time to put an end to the waiting.

I'm ready to have a man in my life, which means I'm going to have to look elsewhere. I've closed myself off from the possibility for too long already."

She thought of the fund-raiser and how much she'd been anticipating it. Now it seemed silly to go with David. What would one night change? Nothing.

He'd still have Lynnette and Jeremy and all his old reservations. Sheridan's neighbor had irritated her for crying in his beer over his ex-wife and refusing to let go, yet she was doing the same thing with a man who'd never promised her anything, nevermind a commitment. Work was her drug of choice instead of alcohol, but that was the only difference. "As a matter of fact, I don't need you to take me to the Hyatt Saturday night."

Sinking into his seat, he looked at her warily. "Why not?"

"Someone else will be going in your place." His jaw tightened. "Oh, yeah? Who's that?" Skye scrambled to think of someone--and resorted to the only guy she knew who'd be available and willing on such short notice: Sheridan's neighbor. "His name is Charlie Fox. He's a nice guy." She had no romantic interest in Charlie whatsoever, but he was suddenly preferable to David. Being with David would make her crave a night of hot, steamy sex and a million tomorrows; being with Charlie would make her glad she was going home alone. "Charlie," he echoed as if it was the stupidest name on earth.

She nodded. "He's a nice guy." "You said that already."

They stared at each other in a silent standoff. Then his eyes moved over her with an intensity that left gooseflesh in its wake. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. But Skye refused to take that into consideration, refused to allow it to change her mind. That was what had kept her hanging 134

on for so long already. She needed to cut away everything Burke had brought into her life that made it difficult to go on--which included her infatuation with the detective who'd investigated her case.

"Lynnette must've made quite an impression."

Skye frowned. "You know she called me?"

One muscular shoulder lifted in a shrug, but the motion didn't strike her as careless. "Jeremy mentioned that she was on the phone with someone named after the sky." He gave her a grin that contradicted the hollowness in his eyes. "Had to be you."

"Is that why you came to the office?"

"Partly." He rubbed his lip. "What'd she say?"

"What I knew. That you both want to make your relationship work."

"And what'd you tell her?"

"That I don't want to stand in the way." She swallowed around the lump rising in her throat. "And that's true."

His face looked set in stone, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Putting herself out of reach made it easier on him and would ultimately make it easier on her, too.

"She had sex with someone else this week," he said.

There was no strong emotion in his bald statement, so Skye wasn't sure how to respond. She wasn't even sure why he'd decided to share such private information. "I'm sorry if it bothered you."

"It didn't."

His tone suggested that surprised him. But, considering his commitment to Lynnette, his indifference wasn't exactly a good thing. "Then I'm sorry about that, too."

She could barely hear him when he answered, "You and me both."

Silence settled over them again, but it was a deafening silence, one filled with everything they weren't saying. After a few minutes, he opened his mouth as if he intended to put words to some of the emotions that hung there in the room. But then he closed it and kept turning his glass around and around on the table.

"We'd better get to bed," Skye said at last.

Briefly pressing his fingers to his eyes, David breathed a deep sigh.

"Right. You can have the big bed. I'll take Jeremy's room."

135

David stood by the bed, watching Skye move restlessly in her sleep.

Maybe she was only dreaming, but she wasn't at peace, and that bothered him. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, make sure she knew he'd do whatever he could to protect her. no matter the cost.

But he understood where such comfort would lead. He also realized Lynnette wouldn't easily forgive him. She'd know that any encounter between him and Skye would not be the mechanical, empty experience she'd shared with another man this past week.

Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from wanting to make love to Skye.

Transfixed, he stared at the tangled blond hair strewn across his pillow. He longed to run his fingers through that silky mass, press his lips to the hollow of her throat where he could feel her steady heartbeat. She was in his bed, his apartment, and she'd already admitted she wanted to be with him.

He imagined gently waking her, then slipping into the warmth of the bed and stripping the clothes from her body. The mere thought made his pulse race. But it was more than desire that had brought him to her bedside.

She'd been through so much. He wanted to love her as she deserved to be loved.

If only they could have this night. But morning would come, and with it his responsibilities to Jeremy and Lynnette. He couldn't have Skye and his family, couldn't do justice to both. He should've sent her to Jasmine's or Sheridan's tonight instead of just calling to tell them she was okay.

Rubbing his face, he glanced at the pictures on his dresser. In one, his son balanced on his shoulders, wearing a Kings jersey and hat. In another, Lynnette cradled Jeremy as a newborn. David had been happily married then, or fairly so. Some of the cracks in his relationship with Lynnette had already appeared, but he'd still been idealistic enough to believe they'd celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary someday. Just like his own parents would in another decade.

Instead, he and Lynnette had divorced, reconciled and separated 136

again, all because he'd become too immersed in his work--and because he'd met Skye. That alone had diminished his ability to overlook what needed to be overlooked with Lynnette. From the moment he'd first seen Skye, there'd been a spark. He couldn't explain the intensity of the attraction, but he'd been fighting for his integrity ever since. Even more so, now that Lynnette was sick.

Keeping that picture of Jeremy firmly in his mind, David returned to the other room, where he was supposed to be sleeping. At least Skye was safe from harm. For tonight. Knowing about that recent phone call and the guy in the restaurant, he could take some pleasure in having her close, couldn't he?

But he wasn't so happy to have Skye in his apartment when he woke the following morning.

"David? Are you in there?"

Someone was knocking on the apartment door. Yawning, Skye opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling. David's ceiling. The knowledge of where she was sent a thrill of excitement through her, despite last night's resolution to forget him and move on.

Rolling over, she buried her head in his pillow and breathed deeply, trying to take in the essence of the man she loved. But when the voice at the door spoke again, Skye realized it wasn't a friend or neighbor.

"David? It's Mom."

Sitting up so fast her head swam, Skye looked at the clock. It was only seven-thirty. Probably much earlier than David expected visitors, especially family. Or he would've warned her. Especially after they'd talked about Lynnette having called her last night!

The creak of footsteps indicated that David was crossing the floor. He didn't seem to be in a rush--and she could certainly understand why. But he didn't tell her to stay out of sight, either. He didn't say anything.

Then she heard the door open and his mother's voice, much louder now, rose to her ears. "Don't you have to work today? You're usually up by now."

"I had a late night."

"Hi, Daddy!" A third voice chimed in, and Skye cringed anew.

David's son. There'd been plenty of times she'd wanted to meet the person who was more important to him than anyone else. But now wasn't one of them. She knew how her presence would be interpreted.

"What brings you to town so early, Mom?" he asked after greeting Jeremy.

"Actually, we got in after ten last night. I thought you'd already be 137

asleep and I knew Jeremy's bed wouldn't be big enough for your father and me, so we stayed with Lynnette."

"Where's Dad?"

"Getting some breakfast. He has an appointment with a real-estate agent to visit some investment properties. I'm
not
interested in looking at rentals all day, so I thought I'd take Jeremy to school and drive up to Auburn to see my old friend, Virna Washington. She moved there a year ago, you know."

"And where's Lynnette?"

There was a slight pause. "She wasn't feeling well this morning. She might try to go to work later."

David didn't question why his ex-wife might not be feeling well. "I'm glad you stopped by," he said.

Skye felt no such sentiment. Her eyes darted to the bathroom, where she hoped to hide until Mrs. Willis and Jeremy left. Kicking back the covers, she climbed out of bed, careful to move slowly and quietly. But it made no difference in the end. Halfway across the floor, she found herself facing a young boy with dark hair and wide green eyes, just like his father's.

"Jeremy!" David snapped. But it was too late. David's son stood in the doorway, staring at her as if he'd never seen a woman before.

"Who are you?" he breathed.

"Just--" she cleared her throat "--a friend of your father's."

"Is there someone else here?" His mother had heard the exchange.

Skye's stomach muscles tensed as Mrs. Willis appeared behind Jeremy and gaped at her in astonishment. "You have a.. .a woman in your bedroom?" she said, turning to her son.

David had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, but he wasn't wearing a shirt. He shot Skye an apologetic glance. "Mom, this is Skye Kellerman.

Skye, this is my mother, Georgine Willis."

Running a self-conscious hand through her tangled hair, Skye managed what she hoped was a polite smile. "Nice to meet you."

"She's wearing your underwear!" Jeremy exclaimed, which saved Georgine from having to call forth the words that seemed to be stuck in her throat but did little to change the horrified expression on her face.

David ran two fingers over his left eyebrow, as if he had a headache.

"I lent them to her because she needed something to sleep in."

This wasn't good. Skye knew word of it would travel back to Lynnette at lightning speed. But she had no idea how to improve the situation--other than to get out of the apartment as soon as possible. "Sorry to rush off, but I-- I need to get to work. I didn't mean to sleep so late."

138

"Looks like you didn't sleep any better than my son," Mrs. Willis said dryly.

Skye didn't know how to respond, so she didn't. Scooping up her clothes, which she'd piled on a chair next to the bed, she hurried to the bathroom, pausing only long enough for a quick wave before closing the door.

Fortunately, when she opened it again, they weren't standing there anymore. They'd gone to the kitchen. She could hear David offering his mother a cup of coffee.

"Is she your girlfriend, Dad?" Jeremy asked.

Skye braced herself for the answer, which was exactly what she'd expected it to be. "No, she's just someone I know from work, someone who needed a safe place to stay last night."