Some Kind of Hero

by Brenda Harlen

  “I’m wet,” Riane protested.

  Joel grinned down at her. “I hope so.”

  She laughed softly when he dropped her on the mattress. The humor in her brown eyes quickly turned to desire as she watched him strip off his clothing. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, muscles quivering, straining. He forced himself to rein in his escalating passion. Less than forty-eight hours earlier he’d taken her virginity—and he’d taken her several times again since then. Both her actions and her words proved that she shared his desire, but he figured her body would be aching, tender.

  He touched his mouth to hers, softly. He stroked his tongue over the fullness of her bottom lip, savoring. He trailed kisses over her jaw, nipped at her earlobe, nibbled his way down the slender column of her throat.

  He worked his way down to her breasts and lingered. Milky flesh, rosy nipples, dusky peaks. He tasted and teased, tormenting them both before he moved on. His tongue trailed a path to the center of her belly, and lower still.

  She squirmed, and he knew he was again leading her into new territory. The realization only heightened his need to explore.

  He skimmed his hands over the length of her torso, under her hips, lifting her off the mattress slightly. He felt her hands on his shoulders, her short nails digging into the flesh.

  To restrain or encourage?

  He didn’t know. He only knew that he had to taste her.

  He dipped his head between her thighs, heard her gasp, felt her jolt when his tongue plunged into her. And he feasted.

  Riane’s body quivered and bucked as the climax ripped through her, her passionate reaction causing his own desire to spiral out of control. No, it was more than desire. It was stronger, deeper, undeniable.

  He needed Riane. He needed her like he’d never needed anyone before. He needed her more than he needed to breathe. With no regard for his earlier thoughts of care and patience, pausing only long enough to protect her, he plunged into her.

  She didn’t balk at the primitiveness of his possession but rose up to meet him, taking him deeper and harder with each thrust. Her hands raced over him greedily, her fingers burning his flesh, each frantic touch driving him closer to the edge. He captured her mouth, swallowed her trembling sighs and throaty moans. Then her muscles contracted around him, and he plunged into the abyss of pleasure right along with her.

  “Not that I have any complaints,” Joel assured her later.

  “But was there any particular reason you wanted to seduce me?”

  “I wanted to see if I could,” Riane admitted.

  “Anytime.”

  She smiled, but he detected a hint of worry in the endless depths of her dark eyes. “And because I wanted to take your mind off things.”

  “What things?”

  She slid from the bed and pulled a folded newspaper out of the side pocket of her suitcase. “Have you seen this?”

  He closed his eyes and silently cursed his hormones for overruling his head. It had been his intention to talk to her about the article as soon as he got home, but then Riane had been naked and he hadn’t thought about anything but burying himself inside her.

  “Yes, I’ve seen it.” He tensed, waiting for her to vent her outrage and accusations.

  But she climbed back onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

  He was speechless for a moment. “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because I have a pretty good idea who leaked this story to the press.”

  “Stuart,” Joel guessed.

  “Probably,” she admitted. “He blames you for the end of our relationship.”

  “And this is his way of trying to make you question my involvement with you.”

  “After three years, I would have thought he’d know me better than that.”

  “You’re not angry?” Joel asked. “That I didn’t tell you who the judge was?”

  “No. I wish you had told me. But the information was in the file Stuart gave me last week.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me about it?”

  She shrugged. “Because I don’t believe that our relationship is about anything or anyone but you and me.”

  He was stunned. Jocelyn would have ranted and raved and likely destroyed something expensive. Riane’s calm and unquestioning acceptance forced Joel to acknowledge how different from his ex-wife Riane really was, and how extraordinarily lucky he was.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You are an incredible woman.”

  Riane smiled. “Of course, if I find out I’m wrong, I’ll have to really hurt you,” she teased.

  Joel grinned and dropped a light kiss on her lips. Was it any wonder that he’d fallen in love with this woman?

  He pulled back, as if a few inches of physical distance might give him a better perspective. But he could no longer deny the truth of what was in his heart. He did love her. He wasn’t sure exactly how or when it had happened, but somewhere along the line, he’d fallen in love with Riane Quinlan.

  Unfortunately, loving her didn’t change anything: she was still the daughter of a senator, a Rutherford-Quinlan by upbringing if not by blood; he was a kid from the wrong side of town who didn’t have a clue who his father was. He’d be a fool to think they could have a future together; he’d be even more of a fool to spoil what they had right now by wishing for something that could never be.

  And right now he was starving.

  “How does pizza sound?”

  Riane lingered in bed while Joel went downstairs to reheat the pizza. She stretched, feeling aches in muscles she didn’t even know she had, but she smiled. They were the aches of a woman who had been well and truly loved, and she wished she could hold on to the feeling forever.

  Of course, they both knew this wasn’t forever. Joel’s life was here in Pennsylvania; hers was in West Virginia. Okay, maybe the geographical distance wasn’t insurmountable, but it was significant.

  She had to go back to Mapleview. She wanted to go home. Meeting with Arden and learning more of the details about her biological family had cleared up some of her confusion. She might never understand why her parents had lied about her adoption, but she would be forever grateful for their unconditional love and support.

  But the issue with her parents aside, why couldn’t she have a future with Joel? She knew he had doubts about whether her parents could accept him, but she didn’t. Her parents would love Joel because she did.

  She sat up straight, stunned by the revelation that had come so easily from her heart. She loved Joel.

  She clutched the bed sheet against her chest, considering. Maybe she wasn’t really in love. Maybe she was confusing sex with love. She’d never been intimate with a man before, she’d never experienced the kind of physical connection she’d shared with Joel. Maybe what she was really feeling was just…gratitude, she decided, for his initiation into the rites of lovemaking.

  She shook her head, wondering why she was so determined to discount her emotions. She’d given up on falling in love; she’d made a conscious decision to marry for practical reasons rather than emotional ones. Then Joel had walked into the charity ball and her entire life had changed.

  And she had no intention of letting go of the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Resolved, Riane pushed herself off the bed. She grabbed a softly worn denim shirt from Joel’s closet and hastily fastened the buttons. Now that she’d acknowledged her feelings, she wanted to share them. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Joel, and she wanted to start now.

  The thought brought a smile to her lips and her step was light as she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She could smell the pizza in the oven, the spicy aroma teased her nostrils, caused her stomach to rumble. But Joel wasn’t in the kitchen.

  There was a light on in the den, so she stepped through the family room and into the open doorway. He wasn’t there, either, but something—an instinct she would later wish she could have ignored—propelled her closer to the desk. His
agenda was lying open on top of the blotter and beneath the current date was a notation:

  Sam’s Diner

  9:30

  re: Rheanne

  She felt a sudden hollowness in her gut that had nothing to do with her want for food. She backed away from the desk, her eyes still glued to the page.

  “There you are,” Joel came into the room, offering her the glass of wine she’d abandoned earlier.

  “Rheanne,” she said, surprised that her voice sounded so steady. “R-H-E-A-N-N-E. Is that the name on my original birth certificate?”

  Joel hesitated, his gaze dropping to the book on his desk and the easy smile slipping from his face before he answered with a short nod.

  “Why is that name in your agenda for today? Did you have an appointment with someone about me?”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Who?”

  “I can’t talk to you about it right now.”

  “If it’s about me, why can’t you discuss it?”

  “Because I don’t know if there’s any truth to the information I was given.”

  “Does it matter?” she asked. “Your job was to find me. You found me.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It can be. If you could just let it go.” Then she laughed, bitterly. “You’re still a cop, aren’t you? You just won’t stop digging until you have all the answers. Even if it ruins my life.”

  “It isn’t just about you,” Joel said gently. “It’s about right and wrong.”

  “It is about me,” she insisted. “And if you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t do this.”

  “Damn it, Riane, I’m doing this because I care about you. If we’re going to have any kind of relationship, we can’t start with lies or deception between us.”

  “I haven’t lied to you about anything.”

  “Don’t you want to know the truth?”

  “No.” She didn’t care that she sounded unreasonable. She wasn’t feeling very reasonable at the moment. “Not if it’s going to hurt the people who mean the most to me.”

  “You know I can’t walk away from this.”

  “Well, I can.” She walked past him and up the stairs again.

  She pulled on a pair of jeans and shoved the rest of her clothes into her suitcase. Not half an hour earlier she’d been euphoric to discover she’d fallen in love. Now she knew that the man she loved was continuing to pursue a personal vendetta against her family, and she couldn’t be a part of that. She had to leave, and it was tearing her heart out.

  If this really was love, she decided as she wiped a single tear off her cheek, she didn’t want any part of it.

  Joel stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking stunned and hurt when she came down with her suitcase in hand. “Don’t go, Riane. Please.”

  “You’ve made your choices. I have to make mine.”

  She scooped up her purse and keys off the coffee table and walked out the door.

  Chapter 15

  H e walked into the apartment as if he had every right to be there. Which, of course, he did. He was her husband, after all.

  “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

  The magazine slipped from her fingers. She glanced up, her dark eyes wide and haunted. She rose from the chair, stepped behind it. “H-how did you find me?”

  “I told you I would.”

  “You sh-shouldn’t be here,” she said. Her fingers dug into the back of the chair. Ragged nails on faded upholstery.

  “They’ll send you b-back. To jail. For vi-violating your p-parole.”

  “Only if they know I’m here.”

  “P-please, Gav.” She swallowed. “You have to go.”

  “I don’t think so, honey. Not until we’ve settled a few things.”

  “P-please.”

  He smiled at the tremor in her voice. Yes, this was going exactly as planned. She was begging already. Her eyes swimming with tears.

  “You let them put me in a cage.” He crossed the room to where she stood.

  She shook her head in denial. Tears spilled onto her pasty cheeks. “I n-never wanted you to g-go to jail—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you wanted.” His tone was cold.

  “That’s what happened. You stole four months of our life.”

  “I-I’m s-sorry. I’m s-so s-sorry.”

  He cupped her chin in his hand. His fingers bit into the flesh. Forced her to meet his gaze. “You were always sorry, Felicia. And I always forgave you. Maybe that was my mistake.”

  “I am s-sorry.”

  “Words. Just words.” He shrugged.

  “Wh-what are you g-going to do?”

  “I’m going to make you sorry.”

  She shook her head again. “N-no. P-please.”

  Her pleading was more annoying than satisfying now. She was ruining the whole scene with her pathetic whimpering, and that really pissed him off. He lifted his arm and lashed out with a backhand. It sent her flying. Adrenaline surged through him again.

  She crashed against the dining room table. Crumpled to the floor. She didn’t cover her face or cower. She didn’t move at all.

  “Get up,” he demanded.

  She didn’t respond.

  He bent over, grabbed her by the shoulder.

  And saw the blood.

  It was already pooling on the linoleum. Spilling out of the side of her head. He stepped back. Stared in disbelief at the smear of red. His wife’s blood. On his hand.

  Panic trickled into him. A slow and steady stream. This wasn’t part of his plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  She was just lying there.

  Lifeless.

  Almost like she was dead.

  Damn it, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

  Was she dead?

  Had he killed her?

  He hadn’t intended to kill her. He’d only wanted to hurt her—to make her suffer as he’d suffered.

  He scrubbed his hands through his hair. Tried to order his chaotic thoughts. He needed to think. He needed a new plan. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t go back to jail.

  He’d have to leave the country. He’d go far away. Somewhere that had never even heard of extradition. But to do that he’d need money. A lot of it.

  It was close to midnight by the time Riane arrived home. She’d managed to hold back the tears throughout the three-hour drive, but as she sat in her car in the driveway, the sheer relief of being home overwhelmed her and she was no longer able to do so.

  She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and wept. She couldn’t believe she’d been such an idiot. Again. It had been one thing to make a fool of herself with Cameron Davis, but she wasn’t twenty years old anymore. She should have known better. This time, not only had she let her hormones overrule her head, she’d let her heart get involved, too. She’d fallen in love with Joel Logan, and he’d betrayed her.

  She sat up straight and swiped impatiently at the tears streaming down her cheeks. She’d managed perfectly well before he walked into her life and she’d do so again. She had her family—both the parents who’d raised her and loved her, and the sister she’d rediscovered—and her responsibilities at the camp. She didn’t need anything else.

  So why did her heart ache at the thought of never seeing him again?

  She was angry with Joel, angrier with herself. He’d never made her any promises. What right did she have to be upset now simply because she’d learned he wasn’t the man she’d wanted him to be?

  She climbed out of the car and made her way up to the front door. She hadn’t even put her key in the lock when the door opened. Ellen Rutherford-Quinlan stood on the other side, wearing a long, silky robe and a hesitant smile. Her hair was tousled, her deep green eyes shadowed.

  “How is it that you always know I’m home even before I’ve opened the door?” Riane asked.

  “Mother’s intuition.” Ellen stepped back so that Riane could enter, her eyes anxiously searching her daughter’s face.

  “I
’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Any particular reason you chose the middle of the night to venture home?” There was no censure in her voice, just concern.

  “We can talk in the morning, Mom. You should get back to bed before Daddy starts wandering around looking for you.”

  “I’m not worried about your dad, I’m worried about you.” And she gently but firmly took Riane’s arm and guided her into the den. “Do you want something to drink—a glass of water, a cup of tea, something stronger?”

  Riane shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  Ellen propelled her toward the sofa, sat down beside her.

  “Tell me.”

  Those two words were all it took for the last of Riane’s resolve to crumble. “I found out that Joel’s still digging for information about my adoption.” And the tears started all over again.

  Ellen held her while she cried, as she’d done so many times in the past. And, as always, her quiet comfort and reassurance soothed Riane. Eventually the sobs subsided, the tears dried, but the ache in her heart remained.

  “He’s only doing his job,” Ellen said gently.

  “Why aren’t you angry about this?”

  “I was never entirely comfortable with the way things were handled,” Ellen admitted. “And I’ve never stopped worrying that somehow, someday, this would all come back to haunt us. It’s almost a relief to know it’s going to happen.”

  “I know my adoption wasn’t handled through all the proper channels,” Riane said. “If that information comes out, it could ruin your career.”

  “Do you really think that matters to me now?”

  “It should.”

  “The only thing that matters is you. I made some bad choices, a lot of mistakes, and I regret a lot of them. But I’d do it all again if it was the only way I could have you.”

  Riane’s tears spilled over again. She’d been so hurt and angry when she found out about her adoption, she hadn’t paid enough attention to her parents’ feelings. She hadn’t really considered how difficult the whole situation was for them, how they must have agonized over the choices they’d made.