by Diana Duncan
His fingers slid into her hair and tipped up her face. His tormented eyes held her captive as thunder roared across the sky. “You wouldn’t look at me. I couldn’t pick you up and hold you. Had no way to comfort you. Right then, I’d have offed DiMarco without a qualm.” His hands moved down, gripped her shoulders, and he shook her gently. “You are not to blame for his actions. The guilt belongs to him. The shame belongs to him.”
They were both trembling now. Her dazed mind couldn’t process his words. She’d expected revulsion and scorn. Instead, he was showering her with care and compassion? “I th-thought you were f-furious with me when you got on the bus. You should despise me.”
“No.” His jaw tightened. “I was furious with myself for being unable help you. I despised DiMarco for making you feel you had to run from me. I was never angry at you, Zoe.”
“I don’t understand. Why don’t you ...” She sucked in a ragged breath and listened to rain pummeling the building. “Hate me?”
“Ah, sweetheart.” He drew her tenderly into his embrace. “How could I ever hate you ... when I need you so damn much I’m crazy with it?” He chuckled raggedly. “I love you, Zoe.”
Lightning speared the sky in a bright, hard flash. Her heart stopped beating. She couldn’t draw in enough air. Aidan had just spoken words she’d waited all her life to hear. And, oh, how they hurt.
The floodgates collapsed, sobs bursting free in bittersweet despair.
“Zoe?” Aidan’s strong arms tightened around her and he tugged her into his lap. “That was supposed to make you happy.”
“It c-can’t happen.” She’d finally found the devotion, the closeness she’d craved all her life ... but couldn’t accept it. She was a starving urchin, locked outside in the dark with her nose pressed to the bright window of a tempting banquet she could never taste. “I d-don’t belong here. W-with you.”
He held her tight and rocked her. “You don’t belong anywhere else.”
Didn’t he understand a relationship was impossible? Grief seared her as hot and jagged as the lightning splitting the sky. Aidan was right about one thing—her hopes had been strangled to slow, painful death in those woods.
Her tangled emotions shattered. “My entire life has been a lie. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m so scared,” she sobbed into his shirt. “So lost.”
“Your life stands on its own merit, sweetheart. Your work speaks for itself. And you’re not lost.” He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. “I have you.”
She struggled for control, but hours of repression wouldn’t be denied. The rain outside poured down, echoing her sorrow. As she sobbed out her pain, Aidan rocked her and hummed, his deep velvet voice low and soothing.
Eventually, her sobs tapered off, and finally stopped. She rested her cheek against his warm, wide chest and listened to his heartbeat, thumping strong and steady beneath the soft cotton. Suddenly, she realized what he was humming. Though her heart was in shreds, her lips wobbled in a watery smile. “‘You Really Got a Hold On Me?’”
“Yeah, I do.” He gently blotted her tears with a napkin. “There’s my brave lady.” He held a goblet to her lips. “Drink.”
She obediently sipped. Refreshing wine slid down her raw throat and warmed her chilled insides.
“Here, nice and ripe.” He brought a strawberry to her mouth.
Tangy sweetness melted on her tongue. She swallowed the fruit along with another wave of sorrow. “I don’t deserve you. Can’t be with you.”
He scowled down at her. “What brand of twisted logic arrived at that conclusion?”
“What if—” Merely thinking it stabbed her with unspeakable agony. Saying it out loud twisted the dagger gut-deep. “What happens down the road if ... if DiMarco’s genes win, and I turn out ... badly? What if I end up hurting you?”
“What?” Shock sharpened his rugged features. “You’re worried about becoming like him?” he growled. “Impossible. What you are in life isn’t stamped on your birth certificate.” He fed her a cube of tangy cheese, then a cracker. “C’mon, baby, I don’t believe for a second you think people are born bad. Would you condemn Kylie and Emma because their father went on a rant and took them hostage?”
She jerked upright in his arms. “No.” She blinked. “Those little girls were completely innocent.” Another blink. If Kylie and Emma were innocent of their father’s wrongdoing, surely she— “I’m ... so mixed up.” The summer storm subsided into the rhythmic drumming of rain on the window. Held in Aidan’s steadfast embrace, the gale raging inside her also began to abate. “But I feel responsible.”
“So I see.” He offered her a cool, crisp grape. “We’ll sort it all out. Talk to me.”
His calm strength gave her the courage to confess the terrifying worries that’d tortured her since she’d learned the awful truth. “Back there on the island, I said and did such cruel things to you. And they seemed ... seemed to come naturally. And I—I threatened Kent’s life to get you off the cliff, and meant it. Aidan, I shot a man.”
She gulped more wine. Allowed her worst fear to tumble out. “I always considered myself a decent, moral woman. But what kind of person does those things? What kind of person am I? Maybe ... maybe I take after him more than I want. Maybe I can’t help it. Maybe Francesca DiMarco perpetrated those barbaric acts.”
“Did you enjoy any of it?”
“God, no!”
“Of course not. Because you are a decent, moral woman.” His jaw clenched so tightly, she feared it might snap. “Look at me. Hear me.” Again, his burning eyes wouldn’t release her. Willed her to believe. “Zoe Zagretti was with me in those woods. And I’m damned grateful, because otherwise, instead of Mom leaving leftovers in my fridge this morning, she would’ve been choosing my coffin.”
He shifted her closer to his hard warmth and gentle fingertips stroked her cheek. “I’ll tell you what kind of person you are. Smart and creative. With a lightning-fast mind that comes through in the clutch.” His mouth slanted in a rueful smile. “The kind of person who risks her life for someone else. Jesus, give me some credit. I knew you didn’t mean anything you said to me. I knew you were scamming DiMarco to throw him off guard.”
Suddenly weak, she leaned against his broad chest. Stared into the writhing flames. She trusted Aidan beyond measure. He dealt with criminals, with the worst elements of society on a daily basis. If he believed in her goodness, maybe she wasn’t corrupted. A hidden ember of the hope she’d thought dead ignited a tiny glow in the cold ashes inside her. “I’d feel less awful if you’d accept my apology.”
He scooped crab dip onto a round of bread, and she couldn’t resist the tempting morsel. “Will you accept mine for making you jump out of a moving car, forcing you to crawl into a hole in the ground and go into a dark cave, robbing you of your clothes, and towing you around in handcuffs?”
“No, because you were trying to keep us alive.”
“Ditto.” The afternoon had grown darker, and flickering flames washed light and shadows across the strong angles of his face. “You had the conviction to do what was necessary to survive. The courage to save us both. Just like I protected you, you protected me. You saved my life at incredible risk to your own. Twice.”
“You did the same for me.” The hopeful ember flared, golden heat dissipating the bone-deep chill as she stared into Aidan’s eyes. She’d been viewing herself in a dirty, abandoned funhouse mirror, her image ugly and warped by the vile words and ruthless deeds of a killer. Aidan had wiped away the filth and turned the mirror upside down. And she saw her true reflection in his clear gaze, undistorted by lies. “Also twice. In the woods ...” Again on the verge of tears, this time of relief, she took another swallow of wine. “And just now.”
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the lingering shadows had fled. “Thank God. I was afraid ...” His lips compressed in a hard line. “I was worried I might not be able to bring you back from the brink.” His tautness eased and he smiled. “Don’t
ever doubt yourself. You’re intelligent, strong, and courageous.” His voice deepened with emotion. “You’re like your mom all the way. It took strong moral conviction and major guts to leave a man like DiMarco. And acute intelligence to stay one step ahead of him.”
She couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping. “That’s the best compliment I could ever receive.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to restart the waterworks.” He brushed away the wetness with his thumb. “Speaking of brave women, Dorothy came through for us after all. Inspired by your segment on battered women and your encouragement in the warehouse, she called 911. Your integrity and dedication to the truth brought the cavalry to our rescue.”
Awe and gratitude at Aidan’s unshakeable faith in her clogged her throat. She stared at glittering raindrops trailing down the windowpanes until she could talk again. “Thank you for not giving up on me. For coming after me.”
“I figured you’d be okay with my brothers until I could reach you.” He fed her a bite of creamy brie on bread. “I was really pissed at myself when Grady finally found me to deliver your message and I discovered you’d left on a patrol boat.”
“I left to protect you.”
“From what, sweetheart?”
“From me.”
“Dammit! Liam said you were suffering battle shock, but weren’t injured, and that Grady was taking good care of you. If I’d realized what was going on in your head, even the Apocalypse couldn’t have kept me away.”
“I thought you were avoiding me. Not that I blamed you.”
He ground his teeth. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reach you after the takedown. I knew Con, as team leader, would’ve assigned Liam or Grady to see to you. Debriefing took longer than I wanted, but I couldn’t afford to omit any details and chance DiMarco or his crew walking on a technicality.” He stroked her hair. “Because we’re both critical witnesses, I couldn’t be present when you gave your statement. And after DiMarco tried to rabbit, I made damned sure he was securely in custody before I left him to find you.”
“I ... I thought you’d killed him with the syringe.”
“I came far too close.” He exhaled fiercely. “But sticking that needle into him would’ve just been revenge for my father under the pretense of ‘saving’ you. DiMarco kills helpless people ... the weak, the unarmed, someone who’s tied up.” His hands balled into fists. “If I’d killed him, I would’ve lowered myself to his level. I couldn’t stand that.”
Hoarse with raw emotion, he jerked his wineglass to his lips. “Ultimately, you would’ve suffered. My family would’ve suffered. And so would I.” Calmer, he set the glass on the tabletop. “I’m not a killer. I’m a cop.”
She stroked his face, touched when the harsh lines of strain relaxed under her fingertips. “I’m so glad you didn’t. Momentary satisfaction of revenge would never have justified the repercussions you would’ve suffered.”
He offered her a succulent strawberry, dripping with chocolate. “Listen to what you’re saying, sweetheart. Though you have a dozen reasons to wish DiMarco dead, to want him permanently out of your life, you didn’t want me to kill him.”
He was right. Her spirits lifted. Aidan had forced her to see the truth. She was truly nothing like the monster who’d haunted her childhood nightmares. Her fears scuttled away like cockroaches exposed to the light. All except for one lingering doubt. It was major, and she needed time to prepare before asking. “He would have relished the ‘satisfaction,’ and it wouldn’t have cost him a moment’s sleep.”
“There you go.” He feathered a hand through her hair, rubbed the back of her neck, and she relaxed into the sensual massage. “The fact that it gives us grief is the difference between him and us. You’d take a life if you had to. To truly protect someone. So would I. DiMarco kills for power, money, and because it gives him perverted pleasure.”
Soothed by his quiet understanding, she nodded. “He’ll suffer more in prison, anyway. He’s lost his power, his precious money, and what he perceived as people’s respect. It’ll eat away at him every minute of every day.”
“He made the decision, sweetheart.” His fingertips traced the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “His moral compass veered off true north a long time ago, and he followed it into Hell.”
Loath to voice the doubt still tormenting her, she closed her eyes. “Scary how drastically your life can change in just twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning, all I cared about was nailing the story and putting DiMarco away.” Gathering her courage, she opened her eyes. “Today, I’m— You love me now, but I can’t help but worry that in the future, when you look at me, you’ll remember sorrow.” She took a deep breath. “That when you see my face, you’ll always be reminded of the man who murdered your father.”
He brushed her lips with a cool, moist cube of watermelon, then fed it to her. “Letty’s quite the gardener. We used to help her plant, weed, and water when we were kids, and her fruits and vegetables were always on our table.” He fed her another delicious bite. “Did you know it takes a hundred sunny days to grow a watermelon? Without adequate sunshine, their growth is stunted and they stay green and sour. Never mature. They end up on the compost heap, as useless as those piles of trash at the city landfill.”
She blinked, puzzled. What on earth was he trying to tell her? “Um ... all righty then.”
He smiled at her bewildered expression. “Every time I look at you, I’ll remember that until I met you, I felt only murky shadows of emotions. Whenever I see your face, I’ll be reminded that my heart was cold and dead until you brought it back to life. You don’t have any of DiMarco’s darkness inside you, sweetheart. Your light conquered my shadows. Your love conquered my sorrow.” He bent and tenderly touched his lips to hers. “No matter how long and dark the night, the sun always triumphs in the morning,” he breathed. “I’ve been alone in the dark so long. Stunted, and not growing. My life going to waste. You’re my sunshine, Zoe.”
Joy soared on bright, shiny wings. She was struck speechless, but any reply she might have made drowned in a tsunami of tears.
“Whoa! Crying?” He tapped the tip of her nose. “There’s no crying in baseball,” he teased her with the movie quote.
She giggled through her tears. “Happy tears this time.”
“Yeah, I got that.” He grinned. “You know what? If we can let go of our hatred for DiMarco and be happy together—cast him out of our lives for good—that’ll be the sweetest revenge of all. He murdered my dad, and he’ll pay for it. But nothing he can do could ever kill my love for you.”
She couldn’t breathe. Could barely speak. DiMarco hadn’t killed her future, after all. “C-could you maybe just s-say that one more time? For the record?”
“This just in. Breaking news ...” Aidan kissed her again, lingering over her mouth. She tasted fresh watermelon and warm, heady man. “I love you. With all my heart. All my soul. Forever and always.”
The glow spread, filled her from head to toe and spilled over. “I love you, too, Aidan. More than life itself.”
His grin gleamed, and the delighted sound of his deep laughter cruised along her skin. “Then I’m the luckiest man on the planet.” He selected a chicken wing, stripped tender meat from the bones and fed her the spicy bite with his fingers. Holding her gaze, he licked the sauce from each of his fingertips slowly, thoroughly, savoring every drop.
She suddenly realized what he’d been doing with the food and wine, and tendrils of affection bloomed inside her. “Are you seducing me, SWAT?”
He dipped a fingertip in his wine and moistened her bottom lip. “Damn, I hope so.” His low, fervent murmur dizzied her with a giddy, swooping sensation.
She nipped his fingertip, then drew it into her mouth. He sucked in his breath, and she grinned. “It is so working.”
He leaned down and captured her mouth. All her needs, wants, and hopes poured from her into him. His soft, tender kiss restored her with absolution. Enticed her with anticipation. Then he took the kiss
deeper and filled her with sweet promise.
Breaths ragged, they eased apart. She stared into warm, intoxicating espresso eyes, and smiled. “And I thought I didn’t have an appetite.”
He held up a cube of bright green melon. “Honeydew?” But instead of feeding it to her, he trailed the cool morsel over her lips, down her chin, her throat, to the ruffled neckline of her blouse. He popped the fruit in his mouth, then his hot, silky tongue scorched the same damp path he’d created on her skin.
Nerve endings tingling with pleasure, she tipped her head back, and his lips cruised the sensitive spot where her neck joined her shoulder. “Yum,” she murmured. “Honey do that again.”
His heated chuckles feathered over her skin. “Anything you want. Everything you ever dreamed. And we’re gonna take it nice and slow.”
She shivered as he eased down the elastic neckline of her peasant blouse to taste her shoulder. “SWAT,” she purred. “Slow, Wanton And Talented.”
As his gorgeous mouth curved into a grin a breath away from the swell of her left breast, her nipples tightened beneath the turquoise lace of her bra. “Zagretti, do the wheels in your brain ever stop turning?”
“Only once.” She smiled at him. “And that was your fault.”
“Soon to be twice.” He drew her blouse over her head and tossed it aside. “Or a half dozen.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “All of which will be my fault.”
She started to giggle, but caught a glimpse of the predatory male glint in his eyes. Her heart stuttered. “You’re serious!”
He nuzzled her ear. “Baby, I’m about to show you just how serious I am.”
Chapter 18
1:00 p.m.
Since she was sitting on his lap, Zoe had a pretty damn good idea of Aidan’s immense sincerity. “Know what we need?” She walked her fingers up the placket of his shirt and opened it, button by button. She’d reported from enough SWAT team incident sites to pick up the jargon. “An eyes-on assessment.”
