* * *
Ace didn’t think. He couldn’t, with his senses overwhelmed by the passion of the woman who kissed as fiercely as she tackled every other challenge. The woman who could have taken her money and hit the ground running but had instead gone straight to work to keep her vow to rescue him from hell.
Regardless of what she’d claimed about his freedom being the result of a group effort, he knew damned well it wouldn’t have happened, perhaps not for weeks or months or even longer, if she hadn’t put her mind to finding Destiny and unraveling her lies.
But as grateful as he felt, as exhilarated to be free of the immediate threat of custody, it was that eager little murmur of Sierra’s, the way she wriggled closer as he pulled her tight body against his, that had him wondering what he’d ever been doing wasting his time, his life, pursuing the kind of women, the kind of life, that didn’t count, when a human firecracker like this was waiting for him.
As he explored her mouth with his tongue, he ran his hands through her long hair, losing himself in the sensation of thick, silken sleekness tangling in his fingers. But he couldn’t long be content, no more than she seemed to be rubbing circles along the back of his shirt. There were too many impediments between them, and way too many damned clothes. As a white heat blazed up between them, as undeniable as it was unmeasured, she led him to the queen-size bed where the fresh clothing he had so recently changed into very shortly hit the floor.
For all the eagerness she’d shown in helping him remove it, and every bit of appreciation that warmed her green eyes when she saw the effect she was having on his body, he couldn’t help but notice how Sierra winced as she moved to pull her long-sleeve T-shirt over her head.
Remembering her ribs, he suggested, “How about you let me help you with that—if you aren’t too sore?”
“If you don’t get me naked fast,” she promised, her face flushed and her swollen lips slightly parted, “I promise you, I’m not going to be the only one who’s feeling pain.”
Chuckling, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to end up with another black eye, now, would I?” before peeling off her top—and stopping at the starburst of deep brown-and purple-centered bruising he saw along her left side, which sparked a memory of Ice Veins kicking her so brutally while she was down.
“Seeing that makes me want to kill that bastard all over again,” Ace growled, his protective instincts once more roaring to life. “Makes me want to be sure he felt a hell of a lot more pain that second time around.”
“Forget about that. It’s okay now.” She tried to cover the spot with the sheet, but he gently caught her hand.
“It’ll never be okay, the things that happened to you that night. When I think about that Taser, and that bastard hauling off and booting you like a piece of—”
“Don’t do that.” Frustration digging a V between her red-blond brows, she shook her head at him as she stretched out, so strong and toned, yet softly female in all the right places, beside him on the bed. “Don’t focus on the bad times, or the challenges to come. Not now, Ace. For one thing, you and I—we’re a hell of a lot more than the sum of our wounds, our bumps and scars and bruises.”
With a delicacy that took his breath away, her fingertips feathered along the edge of the light bandaging on his chest before drifting lower. “Or would you rather let the people who’ve hurt us, who have taken so much away from you and your family already, steal this joy from you, too?”
With that, she turned her head, leaning to devour his mouth with another kiss. As she did, she stroked the length of him, making him painfully, exquisitely hard and hot for more.
Part of him knew that this was crazy, that what he was feeling, what they were doing, was far more than the physical act of making love. That as he rolled her over, giving in to the need to worship every gorgeous inch of her with his hands, his mouth, and finally, the union of their bodies, that he was setting himself up big time.
That when the time came for her to leave him, as she surely would, this beautiful, brave woman would be taking half his heart.
* * *
A few hours later Sierra drove toward the industrial area of Mustang Valley—and Ace’s condo. “Do you—do you like music?” she asked, darting an awkward look toward Ace. Since the sun had set hours earlier, the car’s interior felt claustrophobic, a dim cocoon where she was trapped with her misgivings. Along with the low thrum of her sex-sated nerves, it made for an awkward combination.
“Um, music’s fine. Whatever you like,” he said, sounding just as uncomfortable as she felt. Probably far too nervous about seeing his family and meeting the daughter he had never seen, except in the photo she had shown him, to even wonder what the two of them had been playing at back inside her room.
She turned on the radio, scanning through the few stations she could find, including one playing a warbling old country crooner, another with an angry woman shouting about politics and a third an overpowered station broadcasting from south of the border blasting loud accordion music.
Switching it off, she said, “Turns out, I guess, that whatever I like best is silence.”
“Good call,” he murmured before adding, “except, Sierra, I don’t want silence between us. Or any regrets, either. I—”
“You think I regret what happened? Or even that I didn’t want it? Want you,” she said. “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t just happen to have that fresh, new pack of condoms on hand.” She felt her face heating with the admission that she’d been thinking of the possibility—imagining how it might be, if they were allowed even the briefest window of time alone together—but she charged ahead nonetheless. “It’s been...it’s been a long time for me—a really long time, between my dad getting sick and everything that happened after, and I didn’t want to be caught off guard...in case...in case something happened before I have to go.”
It was those last few words that tightened her throat, making her eyes burn as her mistake sank in. The realization that, with a connection forged in the fires of survival, one mind-blowing round of sex, meant to take the edge off their raw attraction, could never be enough. Instead, the all-too-fleeting hours they’d shared had only served to underscore the darkness of the lonely years she’d endured.
Forget years, she realized as they passed an open bar and several closed stores outside the downtown area. She had never felt a connection like that or been touched in such a way by a man who clearly knew his way around a woman’s body. Rather than glossing past what he had to deal with to gain his own pleasure, as her previous, on-and-off-again younger boyfriend had so often done, Ace had seemed to relish wringing every last gasp and cry of delight from her before he’d finally—It made Sierra dizzy just to think of the moment he had thrust inside her... She was even more moved, remembering how solicitous he’d been afterward, how concerned that he might have caused her injured ribs pain.
What ribs? she’d moaned, floating on a raft of pure bliss.
“You don’t really have to go home, do you? Not right away, at any rate?” Ace asked her. “I know I have no right to ask, with my life such a mess now. I know there’s nothing I can promise you, but—”
“It’s not that. It’s just—I have some things, some business back home I really need to deal with,” she lied, not wanting to add her worries to the mountain he already had of his own.
“Some business...” he echoed. “And afterward?”
Words crowded into her throat, vows to call him when she could or maybe even come back for a visit. But she bit her lip against the pain, telling herself it was better to hurt him by remaining vague than by making promises she wouldn’t be around—or possibly alive—to keep.
“I can’t really say,” she finally told him. “It all depends... I know you’re going to have a lot on your plate coming up, too. Things you can’t put off.”
After taking a turn he pointed out, they passed the low, dark
hulks of several warehouses, an area where the streetlights of downtown gave way to the more widely spaced and dimmer, golden, sodium-vapor security lighting that marked the area.
“Definitely. But that doesn’t mean...” he said, before interrupting himself to point out a narrow opening between two storefronts. “Why don’t you hang a right here, at this alleyway, and then take the second drive on the left? We’ll see if we can get in through a rear entrance and avoid any photographers who might be lurking near the condo’s main entrance.”
“Will do,” she said, checking her mirrors once again to reassure herself they didn’t have company before making the turn.
“That doesn’t mean,” Ace continued, “that you’re not near the top of my list of priorities. Which is why I’m warning you—”
“Warning me?” A chill of alarm ran through her. Because she’d never gotten any sense that Ace Colton might be the possessive type. But maybe that was what came of falling head over heels for a fugitive she’d been sent to hunt down, a man she couldn’t truly know, regardless of what the lies her heart had whispered.
“I’m warning you, Sierra, that I damned well am going to get justice for my father, figure out who I really am and make things as right as I possibly can with my family—and afterward I intend to cut a swath straight to Las Vegas to claim you.”
She darted a glance his way. “Claim me?” Did the man think she was a diamond ring he’d left at a pawn shop?
“Claim you, woo you, throw myself at your feet,” he said, sounding completely serious, “whatever it takes to make it clear that the only future I’m interested in building is one that includes getting to know you a whole lot better.”
As narrow as the alley was, there was no place to pull over. So Sierra turned into the second drive as he’d instructed before stopping next to the warehouse-style garage where condo owners stored their vehicles to stare back at him, her mouth as dry as cotton and her blood rushing like a river in full flood stage in her ears.
“I know I’m coming on damned strong,” Ace went on, “with all this crazy talk about a future when we’ve only known each other such a short time. But Sierra, if these past few months have taught me one thing, it’s been that I’ve wasted a lifetime chasing the wrong dreams, the wrong women, the fancy cars and exotic vacations and all the things that it turns out can be whisked away and shattered with a single email—or a few lies to the wrong people. But in you, I’ve found something real. I know it. Please just say that you think there’s a chance someday that you might. Or at least that I’m not scaring you half out of your mind.”
She forced a smile to keep her tears back. “I’ve never been accused of scaring easy, cowboy. Never.” Leaning to her right, she pressed her lips to his, a kiss bittersweet with the knowledge that the future that he dreamed of was never going to happen, that there was no way to avoid endangering Ace Colton and the family that he cared for—except to break his heart.
Chapter 9
Something was wrong with Sierra, Ace realized. If he hadn’t been so distracted with his own problems, and so emotionally off balance after his release from custody, he would have demanded answers earlier, on the way over to the lodge where she was staying, when he’d first noticed she had been so jittery. But just now, when she had kissed him, he’d sensed her tensing, holding back—and when his younger brother Rafe walked over and gently tapped on the car window, she nearly jumped out of her skin, her body coiling into what he recognized as a fight-or-flight posture.
But there was no time for questions now, not with his joy overriding all else as he bailed out of the car to embrace the chief financial officer of Colton Oil, whom Ace had not only grown up with, but also worked with closely throughout their adult lives.
“Not so hard, man. You may’ve heard I’ve got some stitches,” Ace reminded him, laughing with relief when his blond sibling’s bear hug finally eased.
“Sorry, but it’s just so damned good to have you back, Ace,” Rafe said, backing off to clap him—somewhat more carefully—on the shoulder. “And we’ve missed you so much. You’ve had us all so worried.”
“I’m sorry, so sorry for taking off without a word like that,” Ace said, more choked up than he’d imagined at the concern in his brother’s blue eyes. Uncomfortable with the emotion, he cleared his throat and abruptly changed the subject. “Allow me to introduce Sierra Madden, the woman who tracked me down and then pulled the pin out of that garbage case against me.”
“Helped a little,” Sierra corrected. “And Rafe and I have met, when I was interviewing various family members, trying to figure out your whereabouts.”
Her mention of family brought to mind the pictures she’d shown him of his family members. Including one of Nova. His stomach flipped as he wondered, would his—his mind could still barely form the word—daughter really be here this evening? “Should we—should we all go on up, then?”
“Absolutely,” Rafe said. “I came down to run off any reporters, but it seems the coast is clear for now—and Ainsley and Grayson have covered up those big windows of yours with enough sheets so no one should be able to sneak any photos through them, either.”
“That’s great,” Ace said, wondering how celebrities survived the feeling of being stalked like big game, year after year, by paparazzi, when the past few months had worn so badly on him and his family.
Feeling like a stranger returning to his own place after so long away, Ace went to the recently replaced digital access pad that allowed them into the garage. There, a glance assured him that the car he usually drove around town remained, still covered, in his corner parking spot in the underground parking lot. He led them to the elevator and keyed in the code that took them to the third floor, which was solely occupied by a modern-styled unit he’d had built back when things like exposed brick, towering, floor-to-ceiling windows and a custom spiral staircase had mattered to him. He’d wanted a private place to entertain his more sophisticated friends and out-of-town business associates who often passed through Mustang Valley.
Sierra, who evidently hadn’t seen the place, murmured, “Gorgeous,” the moment the doors opened to reveal the bold splashes of color, large-format modern paintings and several sumptuous hand-woven rugs, along with an art-glass chandelier that offset the colder metallic surfaces, exposed brick and the gleaming white quartz of the generous space.
But Ace was beyond responding, his eyes locked on his sister Ainsley, who had risen from the long, curved sectional, her light eyes filling with tears and her chestnut hair flying behind her as she ran to throw herself into his arms.
“You’re home! You’re finally home,” she kept saying, her tears—and all the tears he knew she must have shed on his account since he’d left—only deepening his guilt.
For the next few minutes they were all talking at once, with Ace stammering apologies for his flight, to Ainsley and his dark-haired brother Grayson, who greeted him first with a firm handshake and then overcame his natural reticence to hug him, too. As Ace’s three siblings who were present argued that there was no more need for regrets and they were only glad to have him home in one piece, Ace caught a glimpse between Ainsley’s head and Grayson’s broad shoulder of Sierra by the island that separated the living space from the large, eat-in kitchen. With that deceptively gentle face of hers in profile, she placed a calming hand on the shoulder of a smaller and clearly younger blonde, who was being supported by a tall, slender man with tan skin and dark brown curls.
But it was the young woman’s face that captured all of Ace’s attention, a face as pale as milk as she stared at him with wide green eyes.
Ace felt an electric jolt zing through him and heard a buzzing in his ears as Sierra looked from the man with the dark curls to the clearly nervous young woman, whose striped dress showed an unmistakable baby bump.
A hush fell as, all at once, his siblings and Sierra all noticed him looking at his daughter,
too, saw him take the first step forward, and then heard him force the first shaky words from his mouth. “You’re as lovely as your mother, Nova.”
Her breath hitched in answer, her nose growing pink as her eyes shone with emotion.
Sierra removed her arm and stepped aside, offering quiet words of reassurance. “This is going to be all right, Nova, and is it...?”
“Nikolas Slater,” the man supporting her supplied with a nod.
Looking back toward Ace, Sierra nodded her head at Slater before telling the couple, “You’ll both see. He’s a good man.”
With Ace’s next step, his heart pounded even harder, his world narrowing to the young woman who had somehow believed in him, if what Sierra had said had been true, before he’d even known of her existence. Because of the love his siblings still had for him, love that had transcended both DNA and doubts.
“I’ve only just heard about you recently,” Ace told her, “and I’m grieving. Grieving for the time we’ve lost, but so grateful that you’ve come. Grateful for the chance to prove myself a decent man, to learn to be a decent father, to do whatever it takes to welcome you, and that little one you’re expecting, into my life now.”
After a last glance back at Nikolas, who offered her a reassuring smile, Nova took the first hesitant step forward, the hope in her face tinged with trepidation. “I—I’m so happy to finally get to meet you...sir.”
Ace winced to hear her call him that, as if he were some stranger, though he knew it was the case. “Please don’t call me sir—and Mr. Colton would be even worse, so let’s just—how about Ace? For now, at least.”
She nodded. “All right. Ace, then.”
“Until I earn an upgrade.” He tried for a smile—and hoped it didn’t look like a pained grimace, as nervous as he felt. “If I ever do. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, after all these years I’ve missed, all the things there are for me to get to know about you. I’m only telling you I want to, and that I’d be honored as hell if you’d allow me.”
Hunting the Colton Fugitive Page 11
