by Erika Wilde
They were alone, spending yet another night together, and her belly fluttered with renewed awareness. “What are you smiling at, husband?” she teased as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans. She finally had a signal again and three voice mail messages from Cole waiting for her. She needed to call her brother to give him an update on her whereabouts and Dean’s innocence, and she wasn’t looking forward to their conversation and Cole’s skepticism.
Dean’s shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug. “I just keep thinking about Iris and her matrimonial lecture.”
“Her advice seems to have worked well for her and Frank for the past forty-three years. You don’t see relationships like theirs very often,” she said, remembering too well her own mother and father’s inability to compromise and work through their problems. Setting her phone on the dresser until she had a few moments alone, she tipped her head curiously at Dean. “Were your parents like Frank and Iris before your dad died?”
He sat on the edge of the mattress, clearly hesitating before answering. “Unfortunately, no. My parents remained married up to the day my father died, but for as long as I can remember, their relationship was strained.”
Intrigued, she leaned against the dresser and propped her hands on either side of her hips. “Do you know why things were strained?”
He untied his shoelaces and tugged off a shoe, a damp sock, then worked on the other pair. “Mainly because Colter Traffic Control was my father’s mistress. He spent just about every waking hour at the business, leaving me and my mother alone for the most part. In a lot of ways, he was like a stranger to us. Then again, I can’t ever remember my mother insisting that my father spend more time with us. She just accepted things for what they were, though there was no doubt she resented how much time he devoted to the business.” He combed his fingers through his thick, dark hair, dragging the unruly strands away from his face. “Hell, even as a kid I resented my father being a workaholic and not showing up at my softball games, or missing an important event or holiday, and not getting home until after midnight most weekdays.”
She listened to his story and applied it to her own parents’ rocky marriage. Different circumstances, but the end result had been a couple who’d drifted far, far apart, just as Dean’s parents had. “Don’t you think your mother and father were equally at fault for their relationship deteriorating?”
“Oh, most definitely. My mother should have insisted on more quality time, and my father should have been more aware of his family’s needs. But he was so caught up in the fear of being poor like his own father had left his family when he’d split on them that he couldn’t see past the driving need to work, no matter the cost to me and my mother.” His gaze met hers, filled with emotions she couldn’t fully decipher. “And would you believe that my biggest fear is that I’m going to end up just like my father. Sounds like a vicious cycle, doesn’t it?”
From what she’d learned about his dad, and from what she’d seen firsthand with Dean, she couldn’t envision this sensitive, ethical man in front of her forsaking a wife and family—for any reason. “I can’t see that happening, not when you’re taking steps to make sure your life ends up differently than your father’s.”
“It did happen, Jo.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, which did nothing to wipe away the regret etching his features. “I led a relatively carefree life before taking over the company. I went out with friends, had a good time, and was even a bit of a rebel. I might have been sucked into the business out of pressure and guilt, but I lost a fiancée because I wasn’t able to make room for a relationship along with the demands of the company.”
Her chest expanded with startled shock. He’d been engaged. Oh, wow. The news hit her in her midsection and made her experience a twisting bit of jealousy toward the woman who had once been this man’s significant other. The sensation threw her off-kilter because it was such an unfamiliar emotion when it came to men. And she had no business experiencing it with Dean, who was only in her life temporarily.
“Maybe it just wasn’t the right time for you to settle down and get married,” she said, more reasonably than she felt.
“Maybe not, but looking back, no matter how I sum things up, I was more like my father than I cared to admit.” He exhaled hard, as if trying to release some of the self-condemnation bogging him down. “I sacrificed a woman I cared a great deal about for a business that consumed me as much as it had my father. I’ve spent the past three years solely focused on work, to the exclusion of all else. I want part of my old life back, and now I’m determined to make changes that suit me.”
Her fingers curled tight over the edge of the dresser. “You deserve that.”
“We all deserve to be true to ourselves.” He stared her straight in the eyes, connecting with her in a way that pulled at deeply buried emotions. “Don’t you think so, Jo?”
She swallowed the tight knot that suddenly formed in her throat, feeling as though his question was dealing with the two of them directly. “Yes, I believe everyone deserves that chance.”
But other than working on her abduction cases, she didn’t know what she wanted out of life, and was ultimately afraid of taking risks that meant openly putting her emotions on the line and possibly losing an integral part of her soul in the process, as she had with her partner, Brian. He’d been the only man who’d believed in equality amongst colleagues, and never once coddled her out in the field. He’d had faith in her abilities as a female cop, had become one of her most trusted friends, and had given Jo the confidence to believe in herself…until the night her courage had been put to the test and Brian had paid with his life.
Her chest expanded with the dull, familiar ache of pain and loss. The kind of emotional sacrifice she never wanted to experience again. And knowing that, could she ever be true to herself as Dean was asking? It was a tough question considering she no longer trusted her feelings on an intimate or personal level. She found it easier, safer, to maintain her carefully controlled existence and not let anyone close enough to see her own doubts, the guilt she carried, and the vulnerability she hid behind a durable and resistant facade.
A clap of thunder rumbled in the distance as a long silence descended between them. Finally, when it was obvious that there was nothing left to say, Dean stood and peeled off his wet T-shirt, then went to work on the button and zipper of his jeans.
“I’m going to go take a long, hot shower,” he said, pushing the denim down his muscular legs and stepping out of them.
Jo’s mind went on sensory overload, and her breath whooshed out of her lungs. After their tryst in the truck he hadn’t put on any briefs beneath his pants. Now he stood before her, magnificently naked except for a lazy, all-male smile gracing his lips. He was completely at ease with his nudity, as well he should be, considering what a gorgeous, made-for-sex-and-sin body he possessed.
She lifted her gaze back to safer territory—his face. Though he hadn’t outright asked her to join him in the shower, the invitation in his bright green eyes was unmistakable. He wanted her to come with him, but he was leaving the final decision up to her, seemingly not wanting to push for more than she was willing or ready to give.
She appreciated his insight, his sensitivity, because she had no idea where her boundaries with this man lay anymore. And that realization frightened her. Her mind was filled with confusion, her heart playing tug-of-war with emotions she’d never intended to allow into her affair with Dean. What had begun as satiating mutual desires had somehow, someway, grown into a bittersweet longing that threatened all those barriers she’d erected after Brian’s death.
Knowing just how close she was to ditching the business call to her brother in lieu of pleasure with Dean, she picked up her cell phone and held it in her palm like a lifeline. “Seems I have a signal again, and I, um, need to call Cole and let him know what’s going on.”
He nodded, accepting her excuse gracefully and seemingly sensing her need for privacy during her conversation with her
brother. “If you need me for anything, you know where to find me.” He winked at her.
She bit her bottom lip as she watched him walk to the bathroom with his shaving bag in hand. She admired his backside, from his wide shoulders and smooth back, all the way down to a world-class ass that was toned and defined and breathtakingly sexy. He disappeared into the adjoining room, and seconds later the shower turned on.
Banishing the provocative images forming in her mind and knowing where they could lead if she allowed her fantasies to take flight, she checked her voice mail messages. All three were, indeed, from Cole, and she winced at his brusque tone. He sounded none too pleased that he wasn’t able to contact her and told her to get in touch with him as soon as possible. Using her speed dial, she touched Cole’s number, and he picked up on the first ring.
“It’s about goddamn time!” he bellowed in an irritable greeting, loud enough that she had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Do you realize that you should have been home by now, and that I’ve been worried thinking the worst—”
“The Suburban broke down outside of Medford and I’ve been in a remote area without any kind of cell signal,” she interrupted his tirade, knowing from experience just how long-winded her brother could be with his lectures. “I finally got the truck towed to a service station, but the blown radiator hose can’t be fixed until the morning.”
He grew quiet as he digested what she told him, which only heightened Jo’s anxiety of the conversation to come. “Is Colter still with you?”
“Yeah, I’ve got him.” She tugged the elastic band from her hair and massaged her fingers along her tight scalp.
“Is he giving you a hard time?”
Well, now, that all depended on how she interpreted the word “hard,” she thought with a bit of private humor she knew her brother wouldn’t appreciate. “No, he’s fine, Cole, and not any trouble at all. And I’m fine, too.”
“I’ll head out to Medford,” he said, obviously choosing not to believe her and exerting too much of that overprotectiveness she resented when it came to her doing a job. “I can be there in a few hours—”
Her lips pursed in irritation. “Cole, I can handle things just fine. This isn’t my first recovery case, so stop treating me like I don’t know what I’m doing.” Annoyance vibrated through her and spilled into her voice. Knowing she had to tell him the truth about Dean sooner or later, she opted to get the discussion over with now. “Besides, Dean Colter is an innocent man.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he barked into the phone.
Cringing, she sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed the sharp ache starting to throb in her temples. “You need to call Vince and tell him that he’s after the wrong guy. The felon he’s looking for isn’t Dean Colter, and the real culprit is out running free.”
“Goddamn it, Jo, are you nuts?” His clipped tone clearly implied that she was off her rocker. “Do you or do you not have Dean Colter in custody?” he asked succinctly.
“Yes, I do,” she replied calmly. “But this is a case of mistaken identity.”
“Is that what he’s convinced you to believe?” Cole snorted derisively. “That’s the oldest trick in the book, and if you so much as fall for that line this will be the last recovery case I ever send you on.”
She bristled defensively, hating her brother’s inability to trust in her. “I believe him, Cole,” she said, willing to put her own reputation and sanity on the line for a man who should have been long gone after cuffing her to his bed last night, but had remained behind to convince her of his innocence. “And before you blow a gasket, at least listen to me. Dean Colter, the real Dean Colter and the man I have in custody, had his briefcase and wallet stolen on a recent trip to San Francisco. His social security card, credit cards, his driver’s license—the same driver’s license Vince has on file for him—all of them were taken. The guy that was arrested might look like Dean with dark hair and green eyes and similar features, but he assumed his identity.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” he shot back. “And it’s not up to you to determine his innocence. Get his ass back here ASAP so we can get him fingerprinted and verified.”
“I intend to do just that.”
“Good. Keep him cuffed at all times…” Cole’s voice trailed off for a few moments. “Jesus, you do have him restrained, don’t you?”
Her pause in answering was enough for Cole to come to his own conclusions. She couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to her brother, but neither was she about to explain how Dean had managed to get his handcuffs off…how he had transferred them to her wrists and secured her to his bed…how her dreamlike state would have made her vulnerable to a man less honorable than Dean had been. But that incident had ultimately led to proof of his innocence, not that she’d ever expect Cole to understand her reasons for believing and trusting in Dean. And her brother certainly wouldn’t condone just how far she’d allowed things to go with a man whose name was linked with grand theft auto.
Cole’s colorful curse broke through her thoughts and jolted her back to the present. “You’re not thinking straight, Jo, and you’re going to do something stupid if you haven’t already. Or worse, go and get yourself hurt or killed just like Brian.”
Her whole body jerked at his verbal slap. The sting of his words rippled through her and made her stomach cramp. Cole doubted her ability to make level-headed decisions, to decipher right from wrong, and while a part of her couldn’t blame him for letting her past actions speak for themselves, she had to wonder if she’d ever get past the stigma that had haunted her for the past two years. Weakness. Incompetence. A sense of failure. Would everyone forever question her credibility and mental stability when it came to risky situations? The guilt of the past was hers to bear, but what did she have to do to absolve herself of all the doubts that colored everyone’s opinion of her?
She inhaled a steadying breath. “Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”
“Dammit, Jo, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his tone holding nuances of contrition, but the damage had already been done. “I worry about you, and I think this guy is trying to snow you.”
And, bottom line, Cole didn’t think she could handle the situation or Dean. “Think whatever you’d like,” she said, her voice cool. “He’s given me every reason to believe him. I even found a new driver’s license and credit cards that corroborated his story.”
“There’s ten thousand dollars riding on this guy,” he said, ignoring her attempt to sway him to her way of thinking. “Don’t blow it for me, you, or Vince.”
“You can’t claim bond on an innocent man,” she snapped, her temper getting the best of her.
“You can’t know that until we have proof,” he returned just as testily. “What the fuck is going on with you, Jo?”
“Nothing I’m not grown-up enough to handle.” Too late, she’d revealed way more than she’d intended. “Call Vince, make him aware of the situation, and if all goes well with getting the Suburban repaired, I’ll see you at the office sometime tomorrow.” She disconnected the line before her brother could say anything more and went one step further and shut down her cell phone so he couldn’t call her back tonight.
Standing, she set the phone on the dresser, feeling frustrated and mentally drained. And no matter how she tried to block her brother’s doubts from her mind, she couldn’t stop Cole’s harsh words from echoing in her head, over and over… You’re not thinking straight, Jo, and you’re going to do something stupid if you haven’t already.
She knew her brother was referring to something dangerous and life-threatening as far as her “prisoner” was concerned, but she realized that the only thing in jeopardy in relation to Dean was her heart. In a shockingly short amount of time he’d shaken up the very guarded life in which she’d lived the past two years. Yet, despite the emotional threat Dean posed, despite knowing that each encounter with him pulled her in deeper and deeper, he drew her even now in a way she couldn’t
ignore.
The need she’d developed for Dean was strong, scary, but undeniable. Wanting to forget her brother’s lecture and all the turmoil that awaited her back in San Francisco, and aching to savor this last night with Dean and the mindless pleasure he gave her, she gave in to the sensual cravings and deepest desires he evoked. One more memory to make and cherish before Dean claimed his life back and they went their separate ways.
Stripping out of her clothes, she entered the bathroom and opened the glass enclosure where Dean was soaping up his chest and arms. Steam billowed around her, kissing the tips of her taut breasts, dampening her skin, and heating her just as much as his appreciative gaze that consumed her in one sweeping glance.
She touched a hand to the sheen of moisture gathering between her breasts and followed the trail to her belly, marveling at the fact that she didn’t possess an ounce of modesty or inhibition with this highly sexual man. Amazed, too, that she could enthrall him as much as he excited her. And for the moment, for tonight, that’s all that mattered.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked softly.
A wicked grin curved his mouth. “Sure. I could use someone to scrub my back and all those other hard-to-reach places.”
She smiled in return, already feeling her spirits lift and the last bit of her conversation with Cole fade away. “Only if you’ll scrub mine, too.”
“Now that would be my pleasure,” he drawled, and moved back to make room for her in the small cubicle.
She stepped into the shower and closed the glass door, cocooning them in steam and moisture and heat. Lots of heat. He reached out and tucked his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face so she was staring into his compelling eyes that seemed to search deep into her soul and see vulnerable emotions she tried so hard to hide from everyone else.
“Hey, you okay?” he murmured.
The man was so in tune to her shifting feelings, so concerned about her welfare, despite how much he wanted her. “Yeah, I’m just fine,” she assured him, and took the soapy washcloth from his hand. “Now turn around so I can scrub your back.”
