by Day Leclaire
“And the less said to Ms. de Luca, the better.”
Sandford shrugged. “Nothing to tell her. Yet.” He jerked his head in the direction of the ambulance. “I suggest you get that leg checked out. We’re not big enough to warrant an actual hospital, but we have a decent medical center down the road a piece. They’re going to want to transport you there to get checked out and I advise you let them.”
Luc didn’t have the energy to argue, though the next few hours weren’t the most pleasant he’d ever experienced. After a battery of tests, they were finally released. They discovered Sandford had rescued their belongings from the mangled remains of the car and dropped them off at the medical center. Téa took the time to send text messages to her sisters letting them know she’d arrived safely—“safely” being a relative term. She was careful not to mention the accident. On their way out the door, one of the nurses recommended they spend the night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast rather than the local mom-and-pop motel while they arranged for transportation home.
The proprietress welcomed them with open arms and tutted over their accident. Then she insisted on giving them her best accommodations, a honeymoon cabin tucked under a stand of pines and overlooking a small, private lake.
“Nothing better to ease your aches and pains than a view from the back deck. And if that’s not enough, there’s a hot tub out there that will do the trick. Just had it put in. You two will be the first to give it a whirl.”
“Sounds like heaven,” Téa admitted with a weary smile.
The two of them limped down the path toward the lake. Luc unlocked the door and shoved himself and their bags over the threshold. Téa made a beeline toward the bedroom, and of more interest, the king-size bed. Kicking off her shoes, she dropped face-first onto the mattress.
“Come on,” she mumbled around the feather pillow. “There’s enough room here for a small army.”
He didn’t need a second invitation. He invaded the bed, an army of one, scooped Téa into his arms and was asleep before she’d finished spooning that glorious backside up against his thighs.
Chapter Seven
Téa surfaced slowly, aware of a delicious warmth surrounding her and an intense feeling of peace and security, both of which made her reluctant to open her eyes in case it caused the sensation to vanish. She might have drifted back to sleep if Luc hadn’t stirred.
“Damn knee,” he muttered.
Instantly she sat up and twisted to face him. “What can I do?”
He massaged the joint. “Just need to take an anti-inflammatory.”
“Would soaking in the hot tub help?”
Early evening sunshine slipped through the shaded window and highlighted the grin creasing his face. He regarded her speculatively, the color of his eyes a sleep-laden tawny gold, filled with the sort of hunger that caused her heart rate to kick up a tad.
“It would help, but only if you join me.”
Her concern eased and an answering smile flirted with her mouth. “How would my being there help your knee?”
“It would take my mind off the pain,” he offered hopefully.
“No doubt.” She escaped the bed and winced. Bruises she hadn’t known she possessed made themselves known. “Maybe it’ll take both of our minds off the pain.”
His amusement vanished. “Where do you hurt? Do we need to go back to the medical center?”
“No, no,” she reassured. “A few scrapes and bruises. They warned me it would get worse before it got better. I think a soak in a hot tub is just what the doctor ordered.”
“First food. We skipped lunch, if you recall.”
“Sounds good. But no alcohol for twenty-four hours.”
“Spoilsport.” He yawned. “I wonder if there’s anywhere around here that delivers.”
“I’ll call the front desk and ask.”
There was a nearby pizza place and, after calling in an order, Téa closeted herself in the bathroom for a quick shower. She wasn’t surprised when Luc joined her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his chest. She tilted her head back and relaxed against him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Somehow he’d found the soap and traced her curves with slick, sudsy hands. “Or doing this?”
She moaned. “Probably not. The pizza is due to arrive any minute.”
He nuzzled the sensitive skin in the curve of her neck. “Do you want to eat it in the hot tub?”
She sank against him in clear surrender. “Probably be better than eating it in the shower.”
They never made it to the hot tub. The minute Luc paid off the delivery boy, they carried the pizza to the bedroom. Téa climbed into his lap and fed him a slice while helping herself to one, as well. Somehow the box ended up on the floor, along with the terry cloth robes they’d found hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
She feathered a string of kisses from shoulder to mouth. “We weren’t supposed to do this again, not while we were working together,” she reminded him.
He settled her more firmly on his lap. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
“Works for me.”
He rolled her under him and gave her his close and undivided attention. She was soft and sweet from her shower, though the bruises she’d sustained from the car crash were already purpling her ivory skin. He kissed each and every one, wishing he could kiss away the hurt as easily. It horrified him, how close they’d come.
“If you hadn’t been there . . .” Her words echoed his thoughts.
“But I was.”
“Have I thanked you, yet, for saving my life?”
“That’s not nec—”
He never finished his sentence. She inhaled the last word, drinking him in, and he sank into the mattress with her. Sank into her mouth, over her body, and into the warmth and passion she so openly offered. The Inferno hummed between them, a livewire quietly pulsating no matter how far apart they were. But here, in her arms, in this bed together, it crackled with a deep and abiding need that drove him to possess the woman he considered his and his alone.
It was temporary, he reminded himself. He wasn’t made for love or marriage or commitment. The accident five years ago had brought that fact home. But somehow, in this moment out of time, it seemed less imperative.
He sculpted her shape with his hands, lingering over the sleek, toned curves. “So perfect,” he murmured.
“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.”
She pushed at his shoulders and obliging, he rolled onto his back. She drifted over him. Delicately. Tenderly. Massaged the tension from his arms and shoulders, then ran her fingertips across his chest. Just the lightest of touches. Sheer torture. He reached for her, but she pushed him away.
“No. Not yet. I’m not through,” she protested.
“I am.” Heaven help him. “Or I will be if you don’t stop.”
“And here I thought you were such a tough guy,” she teased.
“Hell,” he muttered. “So did I.”
Her laugh whispered in the gathering dark. “Then, control yourself, tough guy.”
She continued along her path of destruction, wreaking havoc with each new caress. He sucked in air, his hands fisting in the sheets so they wouldn’t fist in her hair and yank her back into his arms. And still she continued, drifting ever lower until she found the rigid length of him.
There she paused. There she lingered. There she took him, as he’d once taken her. It was beyond intimate. Beyond glorious. Beyond thought and description. He’d never fully surrendered to a woman before, never lost control of what happened in bed. Never felt safe enough to let go of that final shred of containment. But something about Téa . . .
Something about this woman loosened all he’d kept wrapped up tight. Something about her slipped beneath his guard and allowed her to breach every last one of his defenses. He could feel her within him. He drew her in with every breath. Felt her sweep through his veins with every beat of his heart. Felt her feminine
strength and power to the very marrow of his bones. Held her in a soul-deep grip that he’d never willingly let go.
He called to her, his voice hoarse and desperate. And she answered him, giving of herself in the most generous way possible. He didn’t hold back. Couldn’t. Afterward, they curled together, locked tight within each other’s embrace.
He regained consciousness hours later while dark lay full around them. He eased into her, waking her in the sweetest way possible. She sighed in pleasure, wrapping him up as he gave all he had to her. Driving the storm that swirled within them before riding with her on the wild wind that swept them away.
Then once again they slept, two parts made whole.
“No!”
Téa jerked upright at the visceral shout, her heart pounding. “Luc?”
Beside her, he twisted in the bedcovers, clearly in the throes of a nightmare. “I won’t do it!”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, not quite certain whether or not she should touch him, in case he hit out in panic. She’d read somewhere of that possibility. Instead she scooted to the far side of the bed and called to him. “Luc. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
“Got to stop the bleeding.”
She flinched. “Luc.” This time she raised her voice, speaking firmly. “Wake up. Now.”
To her relief, he came to. Unlike her, he didn’t jump up, but froze, swiftly assessing the situation before his tension slackened. He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Aw, hell.”
“Bad dream?” she asked in as neutral a voice as possible.
“Yeah.” He levered up on one elbow, squinting at the bedside table. “Can you see what time is it?”
“A little before eight.” She hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He spared her a brief glance. “Do you suppose that hot tub is still up and running?”
He hadn’t answered her question. Then again, maybe he had. “Should be.”
He caught her hand in his and tugged. “Can’t hurt to find out.”
They snatched up their bathrobes on the way to the back porch where the sun peeked over the mountaintops and skipped across the stillness of the lake. In the distance, a loon gave a startled cry, the eerie sound echoing over the water. Other than the birds and deer, the place was deserted, protected from curious eyes by a tall privacy fence. They removed the cover from the hot tub and draped their robes across a nearby bench. Shivering from the morning mountain chill, they climbed into the gently steaming water.
To Téa’s amusement they both sighed in unison as they sank into the warmth. Luc pushed a button on the inset panel next to him and the water gently churned around them. Satisfied, he scooped her close, settling her in the vee of his legs. She relaxed against his chest. It was as though she’d been gifted with a taste of heaven and she savored the unexpected moment. They sat for a while in peaceful silence, simply enjoying the view and each other.
Then Téa gathered up her courage and said, “I have nightmares, too.” She waited a second before continuing. “Not . . . not just bad dreams. But waking-up-screaming, in-a-total-sweat type night terrors.”
“Sounds familiar. Your parents?” It didn’t surprise her that he was so quick to pinpoint the cause.
“Yes.” The word was barely audible over the sound of the jets. “It was my fault, you know.”
“What happened?” For some reason, the simple question sliced neatly through the scars, straight down to the source of the infection.
“I went to a party I’d been forbidden to attend. They found out and tracked me down. They were on the sidewalk outside, approaching the house when one of the girls started screaming that we were about to get busted. The boy I was with jumped in his car. He was drunk, of course.” She shrugged. “It was over in an instant. He didn’t see them, they couldn’t get out of the way in time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me it wasn’t my fault?”
“You already know that,” he startled her by saying. “But I understand now why you’ve taken on the role of mother to your stepsisters. Why you feel obligated to put your family ahead of your own needs and wants. I can’t see you doing anything else. Not until you’re ready to forgive yourself.”
Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked hard to hold them at bay. “What about you? What are you blaming yourself for?”
Luc sighed. “Takes one to know one?”
“Something like that.” She made an educated guess. “I gather this is in some way related to your injured knee?”
“Yeah. Same incident.”
She turned, curled into him, rested her cheek against his chest while the water frothed around them. It felt right to be with him, held like this. “Must have been bad if you still have nightmares about it.”
He held on to her as though she anchored him against the pull and drag of a turbulent sea. “Five years bad.”
She winced. “If you’d rather not—”
“You did. Seems only fair that I should, too.” He took another minute to gather himself. “I owned my own security firm after I left the military. We specialized in personal protection.”
“Dangerous.”
“Boring,” he corrected, “with the occasional splash of terrifying.”
“Got it. This must have been one of the terrifying episodes.”
“This was the terrifying episode.”
“What went wrong?” Because, clearly, something had.
“There was a married couple. Sonya and Kurt Jorgen.” She felt him swallow. “They had a young child, maybe five. Kurt asked me to help them disappear for a while. I knew something wasn’t quite right. Hell, my internal alarm system went haywire even during that first meeting. I questioned him, but he kept insisting they wanted to reconsider the direction they were taking in life and just needed to get away from it all for a while.”
She had to agree with Luc. Something didn’t add up. “How did Kurt explain the need for a bodyguard?”
“He claimed to have a lot of money. That taking off would leave him vulnerable. He just wanted some protection until they settled in somewhere. Mainly, he wanted me to show him how to get lost for a couple months.”
“But that wasn’t the real problem.” She didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Hell, no. It turns out the husband witnessed an incident at work he shouldn’t have, but neglected to mention that detail when he hired me. On the way to disappearing, goons of Kurt’s employer caught up with us and ran us off the road. I failed to do then what I succeeded in doing yesterday.”
“A controlled crash,” she murmured numbly.
“A controlled crash. The husband was killed instantly.” She felt the harsh swallow again. Heard the choke in the rumble of words. “The kid, too. Sonya was badly hurt. The goons managed to take themselves out at the same time they took us out. Since they weren’t a problem, I worked on saving Sonya.”
“She died, too?”
“No. I saved her.” He waited a beat before dropping the other shoe. “Unfortunately, she didn’t want to be saved. She begged me to let her die so she could be with her husband and son.”
Téa tightened her grip, wrapped him up in as much warmth as she could muster, hanging on tight. “Oh, Luc.”
He relaxed into her embrace, though she could feel the emotional walls he erected pushing at her, trying to hold her at a distance. “When I visited the wife in the hospital, she became so hysterical they had to sedate her. She just kept screaming at me that she hated me. That I should have let her die.”
“I’m so sorry. She was out of her mind with grief.” Téa tilted her head back to look up at him. “You must realize that?”
“Of course I realize it. Just as I realize it wasn’t my fault when she attempted to take her own life three months later.” His voice grew even more grim, if that were possible. “Didn’t succeed.”
“What ultimately happened to her?”
“I have no idea.” He closed his eyes an
d shook his head. “I’m afraid to find out.”
“You think she’s gone, don’t you?”
He shrugged. When he opened his eyes again, they were the darkest she’d ever seen. Hard. Remote. Dispassionate. “If you’re that determined to die, chances are excellent you’ll eventually succeed.”
“You did the right thing. You do understand that, don’t you?” she asked urgently. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He didn’t bother to point out the irony of her statement. “Trust me, I’ve looked at this from every possible direction. If the husband had warned me when he first hired me. If I’d hit the brakes sooner. Later. Turned left instead of right.” He shrugged dismissively. “The bottom line is, I took the job. People died. End of story. Afterward, I dissolved the business and went to work for Dantes Courier Service.”
But it wasn’t. She could see it wasn’t. The incident had struck hard and deep, and left wounds that still hadn’t healed, just as hers hadn’t. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked at her with tarnished eyes, the expression so distant. So emotionless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She shivered despite the warmth of the water. “Yes, you do.” She’d never been more certain of anything in her life. “Something else happened that day. What was it?”
He hesitated, then offered a cool smile. “Okay, fair enough. It wasn’t part of the accident, merely a decision I made as a result of it. Just like you made the decision to fill in for your parents.”
Every feminine instinct she possessed warned her to let it go. To change the direction of the conversation. To offer some lighthearted quip that would cut through the thickening tension. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not while that look of pain and grief darkened Luc’s eyes. Not while the poison still swept through his veins, infecting every aspect of his life. Not while her palm itched and throbbed, warning that whatever existed between them would always be tainted by the hideous events of that day.
“Go on,” she whispered. “Tell me what you decided.”
“I decided that I’d never marry.”
With that, he shifted her to one side and erupted from the hot tub. He padded across the deck like some great, sleek jungle cat to where they’d discarded their robes. He shrugged into his and held the other out to her.
