The Bullet

by Iris Johansen

  “I should have told you I had it.” He was leaning against the door, watching her face. “I brought it down on that second trip, but when I saw you in the hospital last night, you blew my mind.” His lips tightened. “And we weren’t talking about music. When I was watching that Skype Svardak had with Kaskov, I wasn’t certain we’d ever be talking about it again. You took a hell of a risk.”

  She nodded. “I had to risk everything. I couldn’t hold anything back. I had to show him that no matter what he did, I was strong enough to survive him.” She tucked the violin beneath her chin. It felt so good. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the textures, the deep wood scent, the knowledge that the music was still out there, still part of her. “You have no idea how strong the evil in him is, Jock.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “But evil can’t win all the time. I believe you think it might, that your experience with Thomas Reilly made you think that. That’s why you’re so afraid for me.”

  “You’re damn right I am,” he said hoarsely. “Look at you. You’re sitting there, huddled in that terry robe, with your hair clinging all around you, bruised and cut and still lecturing me about worrying about you?”

  “If you’d given me time to repair a little of the damage, I wouldn’t look like this. I’m fine now, Jock.”

  “Damage?” His eyes were blazing in his taut face. “Nothing was supposed to happen to you, but it did. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it, to help you. Do you know what that did to me?”

  She did know, and she was melting as she looked him. She could see all the hurt and the helplessness because she knew it would have hurt her terribly in the same circumstances. “You came to help me. I could have died if you hadn’t been there. You shouldn’t have done it, but you came.”

  “Do you actually believe I could do anything else? That wasn’t enough,” he said jerkily. “I saw that photo and the Skype, and I realized what that bastard was doing to you. He was twisting and changing you, and I wasn’t there to stop it. And now you’re telling me that you’re fine and only need a little time to repair the ‘damage.’ Don’t lie to me. I saw it, Cara. I could feel it.”

  Of course he could. Just as she would be able to feel his pain. And she was hurting him even more by trying to close him out and hide what Svardak had done to her during those days. She had to stop it. “I won’t lie to you. But I can’t talk very much about it because it was mostly inside. I know that will bother you, but I’ll share what I can.” She met his eyes. “This is hard because I don’t want to show you that I’m not as strong as I want to be. But you said that you couldn’t help me while I was with him. That doesn’t mean that you can’t do anything now.” She carefully put the violin back in its case. “The memories … are bad, Jock. Maybe you can make some of them go away. Will you do that for me?”

  “I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Then will you come here?” Don’t hold it in. Don’t back away from it. She got to her feet as he came across the room. “I didn’t know that it might be the little things that would bother me.” She said unevenly, “It may seem foolish, but they might stay with me. I don’t want them to be hanging around getting in the way. It would be like him being there.” She pushed Jock down in the chair beside the bed and then dropped down on the floor in front of him. She reached up and took the hair dryer from the nightstand where she’d thrown it when she’d answered the phone. She handed it to him. “I don’t want to be a bother, so it’s all right if you say no.”

  His eyes were narrowed on her face. “What are you asking, Cara?”

  “I told you, it’s … pretty silly.” She settled back down on the floor between his legs with her back to him. “I was having trouble … drying my hair before you came today. Svardak insisted on using Marian Napier’s hair dryer on my hair at the cabin, and he kept talking about her while he was doing it. It made me sick. I … liked her. I felt as if I knew her, Jock. It hurt me. The memory still hurts me.” She looked over her shoulder at him, and whispered, “All the years we’ve been together, all I’ve had to do was come to you, and you’d make everything that was bad good again. Can you make this go away, too?”

  He went still. Then his hand reached out and touched her cheek with the most incredible tenderness.

  “Aye,” he said thickly. “I’ll make certain you won’t remember him.” His eyes were glittering as he looked down at her. “You’ll only remember what you choose to remember.” He turned the dryer on low so it was like the purr of a cat. “Or what I choose for you to remember. Will that be all right?”

  “I think so.” She leaned her head back on his knee. “I know you’d never make me remember anything that would make me unhappy.”

  “I’ve been fighting to avoid that for years. You wouldn’t listen.” His fingers were winding themselves in her thick black hair, separating it to reveal her nape. “This is a really beautiful part of your neck. Silky … vulnerable.” The stream of gentle warm air was blowing on the naked skin of her nape. “I’ve always loved your hair, but it’s a shame to cover it.” His fingers were now gently massaging that skin as he pushed the strands of her hair back and forth with the rhythm of the dryer. Revealing her soft skin to the blast, then covering it, then repeating the action. Over and over and over. And always his touch, guiding, stroking. She swallowed and moistened her lips. She was finding that rhythm incredibly erotic. “Jock…”

  “A little more heat?” He pressed another button. “Not too much, just enough to make you know it’s there waiting for you.”

  Heat surrounded her. He surrounded her. His voice, his words, his scent, his essence. “It makes me feel…” She didn’t know how it made her feel. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. “Waiting for me?”

  The heat was gone. He had turned off the dryer. “Why not?” His fingers were running through her hair now. “You’re quite perfect, you know.” He bent forward, and she could feel his breath on her ear. “You should have anything you want or need. I’ve always thought that, Cara.” She felt his lips brush her earlobe. Then his tongue rimming the edge of her ear … She inhaled sharply and went still.

  “Turn around,” he said softly. The hair dryer was on again. “I have to do the front.” But the tips of his fingers were still running up and down the sides of her neck with an exquisite sensual sensitivity that was breathtaking. “I’m finished back here.”

  She closed her eyes as sensation after sensation tingled through her from that stroking, teasing touch. “Are you? I’m not sure that I am.” But she wanted to see his face while he was touching her, that face that was like a beautiful concerto … She got up on her knees and turned to face him. And his face was as wonderful as she’d thought it would be. His lips fuller, the shape still clean and defined yet infinitely more sensual, his eyes glittering and intense. “You might know better than I do.”

  “But you’ve always been a quick learner.” He took a strand of hair at her temple and blew it gently with the dryer. “Sometimes too quick. It’s been the bane of my existence. Now close your eyes again, you’re distracting me.”

  “Why? I don’t want to close my eyes. I want to see you.”

  “Close them.” He bent forward and his lips brushed one lid and then the other. “Who’s running this show?”

  She reluctantly shut her eyes. “I should still have something to say about it.”

  “Wrong. You shouldn’t speak at all.” His hands were on her hair again. “You should only feel.” He was shaking her long hair around her shoulders, blowing, then pulling it back entirely to bare her neck and shoulders. “The hollow of the throat is so very sensitive … I can see your pulse beating…” Then she could feel the seductive warmth of air touch the hollow of her throat. She leaned back with a cry, her neck arching. “And now it’s beating faster,” Jock said. “Is it the heat again? Then let’s give you more…”

  The air became warmer, harder, focused, but it was no longer on her throat. It was moving down to the curve of her breasts at the r
obe closure. Shock. Her nipples were swelling, tautening, pushing against the terry material.

  Her pulse leaped crazily. She reached out blindly and grabbed at his knees to steady herself. “What … are you doing?”

  “Only what I told you I’d do,” he murmured. “Now keep your eyes closed…” He pushed the robe open. “Beautiful,” he said thickly. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He was taking the long strands of damp hair from her shoulders to drape them over her breasts and nipples. The faint coolness made her gasp, and her fingers dug into his thighs.

  “Shh, it will be gone soon.”

  Heat that was almost hot.

  Cool wetness that was pure sensual provocation.

  His hands moving the strands of hair teasingly over her breasts and nipples, rubbing, waiting, then rubbing again. “Did you know that if you take one single strand from the rest, it has a kind of strength and friction that can be … exciting.” He ran the strand back and forth over her nipple. “What do you think?”

  She couldn’t answer. She was biting into her lower lip to keep from screaming. The friction was mind-blowing.

  “I believe you agree. Then let’s continue as we’ve started.”

  Softness, sharpness, heat, dampness … friction.

  The muscles of her stomach were clenching.

  “Jock, I … can’t stand this.”

  “Aye, you can. I know you. You can stand anything.” He slowly brushed the strands of hair away from her breasts. She could feel his breath on her nipple as he licked the swollen tip. “But I’m not sure about myself. I’m not as strong as I thought.” Then his mouth was on her breast, sucking, biting, holding.

  She made a sound deep in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted more. She tried to get closer to him.

  “No.” He held her still. “Just this.” His teeth bit down. “Let it come, Cara. Let it come, love.”

  It went on and on.

  His hands. His mouth. His teeth.

  She was trying not to cry out. But after all the teasing and intimacies that had gone before, she was helpless, wild. She didn’t know what she was doing. What difference did it make? She didn’t care.

  “Jock, I’m … burning up.”

  “But you’ll never remember anything but this when you reach for that dryer, will you?” he murmured.”Or any dryer. It’s your will, your pleasure. That’s the only thing that’s important.”

  “No, not the only thing.” She threw her head back as shudder after shudder racked her. “I’ll remember you…”

  “That’s definitely allowed. Now just a little more…”

  More? How could she take any more? Something was happening, and she couldn’t stop it.

  “Jock, I don’t know…”

  “Shh. Ready? It’s fine.” Then Jock’s hands were cupping her buttocks as he pulled her up onto his lap and into his arms. The scent of him … The rough denim of his jeans against the softness of her hips and belly against his hardness as he held her tightly to him as he moved her back and forth so that she’d feel every sensation.

  Fire.

  Hunger.

  Need.

  Convulsion.

  Her back arched, and she grabbed his shoulders and held on to him as wave after wave poured through her. Like the heat. Like his mouth. Like the feel of him against her. “Jock!”

  “You’re fine. You’re beautiful.” And all the time he held her, rocking her, his hand tangled in her hair. Not speaking, just there for her.

  It was several minutes before she could manage to lift her head to look at him. “I wasn’t … expecting that, Jock.”

  “You asked me to perform a service for you.” He kissed her lingeringly. “And it was my pleasure. I considered that it was up to me how I would do it. Did I succeed?”

  “Oh, yes.” She was still shaking from the aftermath. She laid her head back down on his shoulder. “But I don’t believe anyone would consider that fair to you.”

  “Then they’d be wrong. It was a little like being stretched on a rack at times, but no one could say I didn’t receive certain benefits.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But right now I believe that you should get off me and put that robe back on. The benefits aren’t as obvious with you naked.”

  Naked.

  She hadn’t realized that the robe had somehow completely disappeared. “I’m sorry.” She saw it in a heap on the floor at their feet. “I didn’t notice.” She slid out of his arms and picked up the garment. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t notice?” He watched her slip on the robe and tie it. “Only you, Cara. It’s not as if I’ve ever had the chance to see how beautiful you are naked. Some stupid individuals would even think that you might be uncomfortable.”

  “Why? I belong to you. I always feel comfortable with you. It doesn’t matter if I’m naked or not.” She met his eyes. “No, that’s not true. If you’re looking at me, then it would matter. Everything is different then. That’s why I didn’t want to close my eyes. I was afraid I’d miss something.”

  “Cara.”

  “And I did miss something. I missed being able to give you what I should have. I took, but didn’t give.” She sat down on the bed. “Before you arrived, I was thinking how difficult you were going to be, and I was right.”

  He smiled. “You missed quite a bit else actually. You must know that was only the start. A small gift that wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “Then we should start over.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “Never satisfied.”

  “You know better.” She looked down at her hands, her arms. “My skin feels as if it’s glowing,” she said wonderingly. “And my body is singing. I can hear it. Is it always like that?”

  “No, only when it’s someone as special as you. The rest of us mortals have to be content with lust and just a damn wonderful time.”

  “I’m sure that’s good, too.” She thought about it. “For everyone but you. You have that shining inside you. You should have everything that means.” She suddenly jumped to her feet and ran back to him. “I bet you could hear it if I showed you.” Her face was luminous with eagerness. “If you forgot all that nonsense you have stored up inside you about taking care of me. I knew we could be wonderful together, but now I know we can be magic.” She reached out to touch him, and said softly, “I want you to be with me and hear the music. It’s important, Jock.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.” He looked down at her hand on his chest. “Someday, you’ll realize I’m right. I’ll guard you, I’ll see that Svardak is out of your life, I’ll be your friend. I won’t be your lover.”

  She felt a ripple of shock. She’d been so full of hope that it jarred her a little. But only a little, just another battle to fight.

  She took her hand away from him. “You’re already my lover, Jock. Can’t you feel it? And next time, I won’t let you get away with anything but total commitment. I’ll take you as a friend and a companion. But I’ll guard myself as everyone should do.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Do we have that straight?” She turned away. “And now I have to get dressed and let you take me out to dinner. We have things to discuss.” She headed for the bathroom. “But first I have to brush my hair. A dryer only does so much.” She glanced over her shoulder with a sly smile. “Unless you’d like to do it?”

  “Actually, I would,” he said thickly. “I like the feel of your hair touching my hands. I … spark. But then I want my hands on you any way that I can. Which is why there’s no way I’ll do it.”

  “Unless you think it will save me from pain or hurt…” She shook her head. “You’ll do it someday, and it will only be because it’s part of what we are together. But I’d really rather do something wonderfully erotic for you. However, you might have to help me with that. Think about it, Jock.”

  “There’s no doubt that I’ll do that,” he said dryly.

  She smiled. “I thought you would.” She started to
close the door behind her. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “Make it thirty.” He rose to his feet and headed for the front door. “I’m going to need at least that long to cool down. Maybe longer.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You have such wonderful control that I would never have guessed. That’s very interesting. How close were you to—”

  “Get dressed.” The door slammed behind him.

  * * *

  “I like this place.” Cara’s gaze wandered around the red-leather booths and black-and-white-tile floor of the Lost Canyon Diner after the waitress had taken their order. “It looks like something from the fifties.”

  “Let’s just hope the food is substantial,” Jock said. “You look like you’ve lost a pound or two.”

  That’s what she had thought, but she hadn’t wanted Jock to notice. He was too protective as it was. She smiled. “It isn’t as if Svardak didn’t feed me. The cuisine just wasn’t to my liking. The hamburger I ordered will be much better.” She made a face. “And you look blade-sharp and very trim. I bet you haven’t been eating much either.”

  “You’d lose. I always eat exactly what I need to keep me going when I’m on the hunt.” He watched the waitress set their coffee in front of them. “It’s part of my training, and I have been very much in Reilly mode since the moment I found out you were gone.” He smiled at the waitress. “Thank you. Do you suppose you could hurry up that order? My friend here probably forgot to eat today.”

  “Sure.” She smiled back at him, and Cara could see the slightly dazzled expression she had come to expect on any woman who came in contact with Jock. “Anything you say. I know how to take care of my customers.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Not necessary, Jock,” Cara said. “You made it sound as if I was fading away.”

  “Then you did eat all your meals in that hospital today?”