by Lori Foster
He returned and, without answering her question, asked, “Could we make a few agreements? I’ll let you know if I find Adela or Mattox, and you don’t do anything else without letting me know.”
Talk about a one-sided contract. “I don’t answer to you.”
He took in her strained expression, then moved forward to set the ice packs on the table. Slipping an arm around her, he helped her up. “Probably better if I don’t tell anything more about them anyway.”
“Wait, that’s not what I meant.” Leaning against him, with his arm around her back to support her and her hand clutching his shoulder, really drove home the differences in their sizes. Yes, she was tall, but he stood a head taller.
For too long they just looked at each other. When her gaze dropped to his mouth, he shook his head. “You’re in no shape to start anything.”
Of course he was right. If he let go, she’d probably fall on her face. A kiss, though... She could handle that.
He tipped up her chin. “Where are we going?”
Guess that settled that. “You’re leaving.” Pretty sure that was his plan, anyway. “And I’m making my way to the bedroom. Maybe the bathroom first, but...”
He waited. “But?”
“I need to know if Adela is found, if she’s safe—”
“Then agree.”
If she weren’t so banged up, she’d...what? Her unique set of skills wouldn’t get her anywhere with a guy like Cade, and she knew it. That was part of his draw, actually. A big part. Most guys just didn’t appeal to her, especially when she knew she was stronger—emotionally, mentally and sometimes physically. She was definitely more ruthless than most.
But Cade wasn’t the type of guy she could dismiss on any level. He proved that with his newest tactic. “Blackmail?”
“Negotiations,” he countered, never fazed, never out of control.
What could she do but agree? There, it wasn’t even in her hands. He’d removed all options for her, so she didn’t have to feel guilty for the little thrill that came with her capitulation.
“All right, fine.” To ensure he didn’t know how she really felt, she added in a grumble, “Not like I’ll be doing much for a week or two anyway.”
Now that he’d gotten his way, Cade relaxed even more. It was subtle, the slight smoothing of his brows, the softening of his mouth, tension ebbing from his shoulders. He somehow felt closer, gentler...warmer.
“Bathroom first?” And then with concern, “Do you need any help?”
Not on her life. “You’re pushing your luck, dude.”
That earned her a small smile. “I don’t count on luck anyway. I use good, sound calculation. But if you think you can handle it, I’ll wait right out here. If you run into a problem, though, just let me know. I’m not squeamish.”
She almost growled that she wasn’t, either, but he might take that as an invitation. The day she couldn’t pee on her own was the day she’d truly give up.
He left her leaning against the sink. She noticed that he’d tidied up for her. Her clothes were now in the hamper and the blood had been wiped up before it could stain. Nice. God only knew when she’d be able to get on her knees to scrub the floor.
The first aid kit was stowed under the sink, and her necklace hung over the knob of the medicine cabinet.
He’d opened it to expose the curved blade. Had he left it that way to show her he recognized it for a weapon—or because he hadn’t known how to close it again? She’d bet on the first.
Cade McKenzie was a handy man to have around—in more ways than one.
While she was in there, she brushed her teeth. She gave her hair a cursory glance but didn’t really care enough to mess with it. Stiff legged and limping, she opened the door and found Cade leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.
He looked lost in thought, but he immediately stepped forward to put that steel band normally called an arm around her again. “Bed?”
“Yeah, but I need to lock up behind you first.” She couldn’t accomplish much tonight, so she might as well get some sleep. But she sort of hated to see their time together end, and she sucked at subtlety, so she asked, “When will I see you again?”
Standing there together, her more or less in his embrace, he asked, “What time do you get up?”
When she could walk? Usually by five. Now? She had no idea. “Maybe eight or so?”
“I’ll have coffee ready.”
He said that so casually she almost fell over. “You’ll be here first thing in the morning?”
With the light of challenge in his eyes, he said, “Figured I’d stay over, actually.”
“Stay over?” And she squeaked, “Here?”
* * *
APPARENTLY AN UNHEARD-OF OCCASION, if the expression on her face was any indication. That didn’t surprise Cade. Everything she did screamed loner.
If he had his way, that would end.
“You might need me.” Rather than give her too much time to think about it, Cade steered her toward the bedroom. “Don’t worry about the doors. I’ll lock up.”
Holding his breath, he waited for her refusal, for her sharp stubbornness to kick in.
Instead she grumbled, “Fine. I suppose I wouldn’t mind the help.”
His eyes widened, but he kept his face averted so she wouldn’t notice. On the heels of that shocker, renewed concern followed. Her quick acceptance meant she had to be in total misery. Tomorrow would be worse before things started to get better.
Getting her from the living room to the bathroom had been the longest walk for her, but her bedroom was only a few steps away now. “Let me turn down the bed.”
From what he could see, she didn’t use a bedspread, but she’d smoothed the bedding into place. Leaving her to hold on to the dresser, he pulled back the sheet and quilt, then plumped her pillow.
“So.” Voice strained, she asked, “Where will you sleep? Pretty sure my couch isn’t long enough to accommodate a guy your size.”
He’d slept in worse cramped places but didn’t say so. Turning to her, he took her arm and urged her to the bed. “Where I sleep is up to you. I can crash beside you without bumping your leg—or make do on the couch. Even the floor is fine.”
On her back, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow and her hands clutching the quilt, she looked younger.
And a lot more wary.
“I’ve never slept with anyone before.”
Cade felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “You...?”
Annoyed now, she waved away his surprise. “I don’t mean that. I’ve had sex. I’ve just never spent the night with anyone.”
Way to stop his heart. “The night is almost over, so it wouldn’t be more than a few hours anyway.”
Looking to the side of the bed, maybe judging whether or not he’d fit, she said, “You’re not clingy, are you?”
“If you’re asking if I’d want to hold you, yeah, I would. But that’s your decision.” Trying to tease the worry from her expression, he promised, “I won’t cuddle you in your sleep if you’d rather I didn’t.”
Disgruntled for only a second more, she scoffed. “All right, let’s not chew it to death.” Going all brisk, she levered carefully to her side—facing away from where he’d sleep. “Get the doors locked and do whatever you have to do. I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.”
An hour later, enveloped by darkness, Cade silently called her a fibber. She was faking sleep, but he wasn’t fooled. Maybe being in here with her wasn’t such a good idea if his nearness was going to keep her awake.
Kept him awake, too, but he knew his problem. Despite her injuries, despite her wariness, he wanted her. Didn’t matter that it couldn’t happen, didn’t matter that he wouldn’t let it happen even if she felt up for it—which she didn’t.
At the very least, he wa
nted to curve his body around hers, but she was so stiff beside him he thought she might startle if he reached for her.
Suddenly she made a small agonizing sound, breaking the spell.
Immediately he rolled toward her. “What’s wrong? Leg hurting? I can get you more aspirin.”
In reply, she snapped, “Just do it already.”
His turn to go perfectly still. “It?”
“This cuddle stuff you mentioned. We’re both awake, so you might as well—”
Not giving her a chance to change her mind, Cade carefully scooted closer until his body molded to hers, his legs fitting behind hers, his arm curving over the dip of her waist. Placing a soft kiss to the side of her neck, he asked, “Okay?”
Audibly breathing, she croaked, “Sure.”
So warm, and surprisingly soft for such an attitude. He laced his fingers with hers over her stomach. “Relax.”
Turning her head toward him, she asked incredulously, “Can you?”
“Eventually.” He tugged her a little closer. “Close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths. If that doesn’t work, I’m moving to the couch so you can sleep.” When she said nothing, he directed again, “Breathe slow and easy.”
Nodding, she sucked in a quick breath but did blow it out slowly, then repeated it...again and again, finding a smooth rhythm that lasted until her body went lax.
Cade knew the moment she nodded off, and then finally, he dozed off, too. Expecting her to stir off and on all night with discomfort, he was disconcerted to wake with sunshine filtering in through the window. Overall, they were in the same position they’d started in. Their fingers were no longer entwined, since she now had her uninjured hand tucked under her cheek, and his hand rested over her bruised thigh. Leaning up, he checked the clock on the nightstand.
Huh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept after nine, but it was damn near nine thirty.
On a soft groan, Sterling shifted—and went still. She jerked her head around, then winced in pain.
“Easy. Let me disengage first. Then I can help. You’re probably going to be twice as stiff now.” He tried not to jar the bed as he got up and pulled on his jeans, leaving them unsnapped. He didn’t bother with his shirt or shoes yet. “Can you sit up?”
“No choice,” she said, teeth clenched as she let him help her upright.
Her robe had come open, so he got an eyeful, one that’d stick with him for...oh, the rest of his life, probably. Injured or not, she had a killer body. He didn’t mean to, but his attention snagged on soft white breasts, tipped with rosy nipples.
Morning wood settled in real fast.
Without saying a word, he pulled the lapels together and retied the belt.
“You go ahead and use the bathroom,” she said. “I need a minute.”
“You won’t move?”
She snorted. “Might as well warn you now, I’m not at my best in the morning, so mosey on while I concentrate on becoming human.”
Grinning, Cade smoothed her hair. “Be right back.”
A half hour later, he managed to get his unruly gonads under control, and she managed to make it to the bathroom and then the couch. They ended up positioned the same way as last night, with ice packs on her elevated leg, but now with coffee in hand.
He waited until she’d almost finished her first cup and then said, “I’ll need to head out soon, but I want to make sure you’re settled first.”
Over the rim of her mug, those dark velvet eyes zeroed in on his face, before drifting down his body.
Several times she’d done that, her attention starting in one place and ending up on his bare chest or his stomach. Each appreciative study left him a little warmer. At one point she’d even stared at the crotch of his jeans until he worried he’d get hard again.
With the memory of her bare breasts at the forefront of his mind, it wouldn’t take much.
When he cleared his throat, her gaze lifted lazily back to his. “Hey, you don’t want me looking, don’t show so much.”
The things she said—hell, even her reactions, all of it—were entirely unexpected. “No way am I the first shirtless man you’ve seen.”
Brows going up, she saluted him with her coffee. “No, but most don’t look like you, do they? You’ve got some serious hotness going on. Work out often?”
Every day, but he wouldn’t boast about it. “I like to stay fit.”
“Because you routinely tangle with bad guys?”
Cade knew she casually slipped that in hoping he’d automatically answer, maybe tell her more than he meant to. She was slick about it, but he wasn’t that easy. “Habit. Lifestyle. Discipline.”
“Yup, definitely military. And I guess that explains the tats?” She waited, but he only sipped his coffee. “You don’t want to share yet? Bummer. I mean, we slept together, right? That should count for something.”
“You think so? Then tell me—how often have you interfered with traffickers?”
“I’d rather know what the tattoos mean.”
“I’ll tell you—someday.”
Turning away, she finished off her coffee and plunked the mug down on the table.
Disappointed, but not surprised, Cade strode back into her bedroom to pull on his shirt and grab his shoes and socks. He returned to the living room and took the chair adjacent to the couch to finish dressing.
She was still silent when he stood, provoking his impatience.
“I started,” she whispered, “by picking up a girl on the highway.”
Going still, Cade took in her expression, her carefully blanked mask that said so much, surely more than she meant to. Slowly, he reseated himself. “She was trafficked?”
Sterling nodded. “I knew the signs as soon as I saw her. Or suspected, anyway, but it didn’t take me long to have it confirmed.” Absently, she rubbed her leg. “It was cold, dark, and there she was, without a coat, her eyes...haunted. The second I pulled over, she got in and begged me to drive. She didn’t care where as long as it was away. There were bruises on her arms, a few on her neck.”
Getting up, Cade moved closer, sitting by her feet on the couch and curving a hand over her calf. “You got her somewhere safe?”
“She refused the police station. Airport was out without ID. Bus station was too shady, and the hospital would be too obvious, she said, because they’d know to find her there.”
“They who?”
Sterling shook her head. “She didn’t want to say.” Her eyes met his. “But I talked her around.”
Reading the vindication in her hard gaze unsettled him. “You went after them, didn’t you?”
Bypassing that, she said, “There’s a woman... I knew her years ago when I relocated. I trusted her.” Sterling tucked back her hair with fidgeting fingers. “I got hold of her, and she helped me figure out what to do.”
“Like what?”
“The thing is, knowing I made a difference, helping someone—it’s empowering. Almost addictive.” Flexing her toes, she winced, then shifted to get comfortable. “I couldn’t give that up, so I’ve educated myself more.”
Cade couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but God help him, he knew this was her grand confession. It was truth, and somehow he had to bend his brain around it. “And so now you go trolling for victims?”
Insult sharpened her gaze. “There’s no trolling involved. I’m on the most trafficked route in Colorado anyway, I’m in and out of truck stops, so yeah, I keep my eyes open, and when appropriate, I act.”
A headache started at the base of his skull. “It’s dangerous.”
“Duh. But I can handle it.”
He shot right back, “Like you did at Misfits?”
Pain forgotten, she sat forward and poked at his chest. “If you hadn’t interfered, yeah, I’d have figured it out somehow. But you mucked it all u
p, didn’t you? Now Adela is missing and Mattox is out there somewhere, so if anything, I’m in more danger now after your assistance than I’d be if I’d handled it on my own.”
Cade nearly threw up his hands, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He knew better than to let his temper take control. A man had to have a cool head to deal with most situations. Dealing with someone like Star? He’d let his anger fuck that royally.
Time to retrench, before she expected reciprocal confessions from him. Nothing had changed there. He still couldn’t confide in her without implicating his family, and that was something he wouldn’t do.
Getting up, he headed to the kitchen and rummaged through a few junk drawers before he found a pen and piece of paper. It gave him a second to collect himself and hopefully allowed her a minute to lose steam.
On his way back in, he preempted any angry outbursts by saying, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Mouth open—probably to blast him—Sterling paused, then clicked her teeth together. “I don’t know if I accept your apology. It’ll depend on what you tell me in return.”
And there it was, the expectation of tit for tat. “We have a lot to discuss, but I really am running short on time, so how about giving me a list of groceries you want?”
She knew an evasion when she heard one. “Go. I don’t need anything. My plan is to veg right here and watch TV.”
“And what do you plan to do about food?”
That stymied her for a second. “Cereal is still in there.”
“But your milk is bad.”
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Yeah, that happens a lot. Not your problem.”
It bothered him that she’d seriously sit at home, hurt and without food, before she’d ask for help. Not that she had to ask, but it’d help if she didn’t fight him every inch of the way. Now, of course, she had more reason than ever to be difficult.
“I do go after traffickers, with the end goal to take them out.”
