Hot Knights

by Rue Allyn

  Her gaze caught his, something electric pulling between them. A soft pink flush flooded her cheeks, right before her luscious mouth curled. “You weren’t so bad yourself. You held your own.”

  He led her around another corner of the maze and let out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I knew it was a possibility he’d go there, but I was hoping he wouldn’t, that we’d moved beyond it.”

  Cat squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?”

  He glanced at her upturned face and, for a moment, the compassion and echo of pain radiating from her eyes caught him. In a couple of weeks, he had to leave, go back to his life, and that thought left an emptiness he didn’t know what to do with.

  “I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” To see his father’s deterioration filled him with regrets he didn’t know how to handle. There were so many things he would have done differently, wanted to change now. He came home two years ago to mend fences and failed then, too. Now, somehow, doing so seemed more important.

  She offered a reassuring smile that simultaneously lit up his insides and soothed the wounded place deep inside. “In the end, he gave in. Everything turned out okay.”

  “Mm. That’s what worries me. It means he knows he’s dying. He told me he wants to see me settled before he dies.” Twin waves of guilt and worry hung heavy in his chest, his father’s mortality weighing him down. This had been a long time coming. Until they could find his father a donor heart, the old man’s time ticked away, like the sand in an hourglass draining from top to bottom with no way to stop it.

  Turning another corner, they reached the center of the maze. He moved to the large, round fountain in the clearing and sat on the edge, pulling Cat onto his lap. He slipped his hands into her hair, reveling in the silky strands sifting through his fingers, and kissed her gently.

  A whisper soft exhalation left her mouth, and she leaned into him, her lips opening beneath his. He allowed himself to get lost in the heady flavor of her tongue entwining with his, in the soft, mewling sounds she released. Her hands found his shoulders and drew him closer, until her breasts flattened against his chest and her fingers dove into his hair.

  Whatever happened between them left him caught. Kaylee’s death cut a hole in him he’d hadn’t patched. Ten years of trying to forget the unbearable guilt of his role in her death. He’d set boundaries on all of his relationships, liked them simple and uncomplicated. What he felt for Cat went beyond complex. He liked the idea of wrapping his life around her. To see what she clearly felt for him shining back at him in the depths of her eyes made the idea all the more tempting. The question was, did he even have the right to happiness when his selfish needs had gotten not one but three people killed?

  He left Cat’s mouth to trail kisses down her long neck and across her shoulder, relishing the sweet, velvety feel of her skin. She clung to his shoulders like she needed him every bit as much as he needed her. He shut his mind off. He didn’t want to think anymore. He wanted to drink her in, lose himself in her.

  He drew his lips up the side of her neck and scraped his teeth over her earlobe. “You know, nobody can see us back here.”

  She pulled back, her heavy-lidded eyes searching his with uncertainty, unease. “Here?”

  He drew her bottom lip in between his and sucked gently, lifted his hands and cupped her breasts in his palms, let his thumbs drag across the hardening tips. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping her as she dropped her head back.

  “I need you.” He whispered against her skin as he bent his head to taste the exposed column of her throat. “Now.”

  It was all the explanation he could muster. All he knew was he wanted her. Needed her. Needed to feel her body joined with his, to feel the intense connection between them. He wanted to lay claim to her body, her heart, her soul, and he wanted it with a fierceness that shook him. He needed to be a part of her, to take a part of her with him when he left.

  She lifted her head and searched his eyes. Acknowledgement passed between them, silent and hot. Then she stood, her eyes smoldering as she hiked her skirt above her knees and straddled his lap. God, she never ceased to amaze him. If it was possible to be anymore turned on by her, he’d combust where he sat.

  “We’ll have to be fast.” Her voice was breathless as she reached between them and plucked the buttons of his jeans open.

  “And quiet.” He sipped at her lips, already reaching into his back pocket.

  He quickly sheathed himself then slid his hands up her thighs, moved her panties aside and pulled her onto him.

  A whisper-soft moan slid from her lips as she arched against him, a sound of agony and delicious abandon that only served to increase the ache. He groaned quietly, a combination of pleasure and relief shooting through him as her tight silky warmth surrounded him. He moved with her, eased in deeper, reveled in the feel of her body joined with his. She met him thrust for thrust, and with every stroke, their rhythm increased. He dug his fingers into her backside, needing her closer. She curled her fingers into his skin, her nails biting into the backs of his shoulders.

  They clung to each other, rocking together in a fast, furious rhythm that left him feeling like he spun out of control, slowly losing every sense of himself as being separate from her. In a matter of minutes, she drove him to the brink of madness then tossed him headlong into the fiery void. She bit her bottom lip and threw her head back as her body shuddered against him, around him, massaging his heat, drawing his own climax out to an intensity that left him shaken to the core. Never in his life had he lost himself in a woman. Never in his life had he wanted to.

  Terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, the sweet intensity rocked him. It left him breathless, his body yearning for more. Yet, at the same time, part of him deep down wanted nothing more than to push away from her and reclaim some semblance of control over his runaway emotions.

  She laid her head against his shoulder, her arms tightening around his waist, her chest heaving with her breathlessness, clinging to his body, and conflict twisted in his heart. His arms tightened around her of their own accord, one thought echoing through his mind to torment him—in a few short weeks, their time together would end. He would make sure she was safe first, but eventually he had to go home. He’d go back to building bikes for the rich and famous while Cat stayed behind in Crest Point. That had been the plan from the very beginning. The question was, did he still want it to go off like that? Was he prepared to go home alone? Go back to a life that, while full, still left him empty inside? Or was he ready to try again? To finally put his heart on the line?

  He didn’t know, and that terrified him.

  • • •

  “Wow.”

  At the sound of his voice, Cat turned from the bathroom mirror in time to watch Michael lean against the doorway. Hunger blazed in his eyes as they swept over her. He looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive, and a shiver ran the length of her spine.

  A murmur of pleasure rumbled up from his throat. “You look incredible.”

  A week had passed since they’d announced their engagement to their parents. Tonight was the engagement party. His mother insisted. After tonight, whoever was after her would have more fuel for their fire.

  “Is it too much?” Cat turned back to the mirror, smoothing her hands down her dress. Boat necked with capped sleeves, the dress hugged her curves, the fitted skirt falling to her knees. The bust and neckline contained an elaborate Aztec design done in soft yellow, purple, brown, and black. It was the fanciest dress she owned. She’d spent two weeks’ salary on it back when she dated Nick and had never worn it. Seeing the hunger in Michael’s eyes now suddenly made the splurge totally worth it.

  He stepped into the bathroom behind her, his warm palms sliding over her hips and around to her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her and bent his head to her neck.

  “Way too much. Take it off.” He murmured against her skin as his lips skimmed across her shoulder, sending a delicious littl
e shiver sliding down her spine, then lifted his gaze, meeting hers in the mirror. His voice lowered to an appreciative murmur that matched the tenderness in his eyes. “You look incredible.”

  She ran her hands along his forearms and took in his reflection. Taking in the dark blazer that somehow accentuated the width of his shoulders, with the white dress shirt beneath, open at the collar. “You’re looking pretty good yourself, Mr. Brant. I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans and leather.”

  He cocked a brow, amused and playful. “Do you approve?”

  “No.” She bit her lip, trying to hide her smile. God, what was it about this man that made her insides quiver? She couldn’t get enough of him. “Take it off.”

  “Keep that up,” he leaned into playfully nip at her shoulder, “and we may never actually make it to the party.”

  At the mention of the engagement party, her amusement deserted her. She turned to their reflections, her mind twisting off in a fear-filled direction.

  “It’s been over a week.” Nine days since Lisa ended up in the hospital and their charade began. Nine days of what should have felt like freedom. “We haven’t heard a peep from her.”

  Everything had suddenly stopped. The phone calls, the threats. The police hadn’t been able to track down the stalker yet. They’d turned her apartment upside down but hadn’t found anything except Lisa’s blood on the bed sheets. No fingerprints. No stray hairs. Nothing to tell them who threatened her. Cat felt as if she waited on a razor’s edge for the next strike to come.

  A very palpable somberness settled over Michael, telling her his thoughts followed hers. “My mother invited a couple of people from the paper to the party tonight. She wants it announced first thing Monday morning.” His body tensed against her back. “Front page.”

  Cat couldn’t stop the cold shiver that ran through her. Fear settled like a rock in her stomach, making her nauseous. Lisa’s face had barely begun to heal. So far, Cat had managed to ignore her fear by losing herself in Michael, getting caught up in the charade. The emotion came back with a vengeance. Something Michael must have caught, for his arms tightened around her.

  “Hey.” His head came down beside her ear, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’ll be with you every second. I’m not leaving your side until they catch whoever this is. If they come after you again, they’ll have to go through me first. Okay?”

  His gaze met hers in the mirror, his sober and strong, and the knot in her stomach eased. She nodded. “Thank you.”

  He released her and took her hand. “Come on. My father’s car is waiting out front. Let’s go enjoy ourselves.”

  • • •

  A couple hours later, Cat managed to find a moment alone and stepped into the line of brightly colored rose bushes. Their lovely scent perfumed the air. Cat drew in a deep breath and let the aroma calm her trembling nerves.

  Over three hundred people mingled in the Brants’ backyard. Photographers, friends of the family, distant relatives. So far tonight, she and Michael had put on a show. Pretended to be madly in love. It was a constant barrage of touches and smiles and kisses for the camera. Every touch, every tender caress, every kiss, felt a little too real. On top of it all, the possible danger that might erupt tomorrow left her stomach tied in impossible knots. It was taking its toll on her sanity, and she’d snuck away to catch her breath.

  Footsteps moving through grass sounded behind her, a second before familiar, strong arms encircled her waist from behind. Michael’s tall, masculine form pressed against her back, enveloping her in his scent of soap and man and fresh air.

  “Finally, I have you all to myself.” His soft lips skimmed the side of her neck.

  Cat shivered, unable to resist leaning back into the familiar warmth of his body, but couldn’t summon the same desire. Her heart was at war with itself. Instead, she slid her arm along his. “Hi.”

  He seemed to understand something was wrong, for he leaned his cheek against hers. “You okay?”

  She shot a smile over her shoulder and hoped it didn’t look as tight and forced as it felt. “Yeah. Just needed some air. The crowd’s a bit overwhelming.”

  That wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. For the last hour, they’d been caught up in mingling with the party guests, people who’d come to congratulate them on their engagement, some who’d come to gawk. She was caught in his mother’s snare as the woman whirled around the backyard, introducing her to the guests.

  Like the first night she’d had dinner with his family, however, Michael hovered close by. The charade only seemed to fan the blaze that sparked between them. When they weren’t together, they watched each other from across the yard, a potent hunger flaring between them that had her ready to combust. It was the tenderness in his eyes, however, that had her tied in knots. Those eyes told her that whatever was happening between them wasn’t one sided.

  Being with him this way felt natural. Like waking up in the morning and taking a breath. Or watching the sun rise. That knowledge left her hovering at the edge of a terrifying reality. As soon as the sheriff caught whoever threatened her, Michael would go back to his life. All too soon, he wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Crest Point. He’d leave, taking her heart with him. She’d known that from the very beginning.

  His arms tightened around her, his voice a low, concerned hum in her ear. “What’s the matter, baby? Is it the newspaper reporters? We can leave if you want.”

  “You’re leaving, Michael.” She whispered the words, the pain caught in her throat.

  For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his body so still behind her it was as if she could feel him thinking. “You could always come with me, you know.”

  Cat’s chest tightened. Her heart overflowed and broke at the same time. She yearned to turn and throw her arms around his neck. Realizing she’d fallen in love with him hit her hard. She was positive she was only a fling to him. She’d tried to prepare herself for the moment when she had to let him go. To know, to hear, the connection between them wasn’t one-sided, that he felt it, too, made her heart want to burst.

  “I can’t.” She shook her head, swallowing past the lump rising in her throat.

  Tears burned in her eyes and her heart pounded, but an impossible hope expanded in her chest, and Cat clung to it. She slid her hands along his arms, wrapping hers tightly over his. The words that would make him understand left her mouth on a desperate wing and a prayer.

  “When the whole fiasco with your grandfather went public all those years ago, my mother was paid to leave town. From that point on, she became a nomad. We moved all the time, sometimes as often as two or three times a year. Mom got bored. One day she got bored of me. Two weeks before my seventeenth birthday, she dumped me in my father’s lap, told me she was sorry and left. I never heard from her again.”

  The painful memories filled her mind, bringing back all those hopeless feelings.

  Michael remained silent, simply listening.

  “People treated me differently. I was a novelty. Boys wanted me to put out the way my mother had. I hated it. As soon as I turned eighteen, I left. But I missed my father. I came back when his wife, Judy, got sick. I can’t leave him again. He’s all I’ve got.” She hesitated, swallowed hard, then let the hope-filled words go. “You could always stay, you know.”

  He stiffened, his arms releasing her, and straightened. “I can’t. I’ve created an entire life in L.A. One I’m proud of because it’s mine. Not my father’s, but mine. I built it, from the ground up, with nothing but my hands and a dream. I’m not ready to leave it.” He was silent a moment, his fingers stroking along her shoulder and down her arm. “I’m sorry. I’m not ready to come home yet. It hurts too much.”

  • • •

  Cat put the last of the books on the shelf with a sigh. It was late. The bookshop had closed an hour ago, the town long since having quieted, but she stayed to shelve new products and clean up the store a bit. She needed something, anything, to do. Mic
hael didn’t want her going back to her apartment without him. The repercussions of the engagement party had yet to be seen. She didn’t want to go to his place, either. Not yet. Her mind wouldn’t stop turning, wouldn’t stop rewinding back to the night before.

  After their candid conversation at the engagement party, something shifted between them. Michael went through the motions, but he’d closed himself off. He didn’t look at her the same way, didn’t touch her the same way, wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  When they got back to his place, however, he reached for her with an almost desperation. They’d made love last night with an intensity that left her shaken. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was somehow telling her good-bye. It left her torn between wanting to cherish the last of their time together and needing to put distance between them.

  The chime over the door rang, announcing the entrance of a customer.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re closed.” She set the last book on the shelf and stepped out into the aisle.

  She immediately recognized the woman standing in the shop. It was Mrs. Hartman. Trish Hartman’s mother. Michael’s Trish. The older woman had become a repeat customer in the last few weeks. She stood inside the front door, looking slightly lost, wearing, of all things, a long tan trench coat. Entirely too warm for the humid weather.

  She smiled at the older woman as she moved up the aisle to the front counter. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Hartman. I’m afraid I forgot to lock the front door.”

  For a moment, Mrs. Hartman didn’t move. She remained silent, her hands in the pockets of the coat, her face impassive. Finally, she moved toward the front counter.

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” A touch of restrained animosity trembled in her voice.

  A cold shiver ran up Cat’s spine, unease twisting in her stomach. “I’m sorry?”

  Mrs. Hartman’s face twisted in fury, and she pulled her right hand from her pocket to reveal a small black handgun, the muzzle pointed at Cat. “I warned you to stay away. That you’d pay for your indiscretions if you didn’t, but you didn’t listen.”