Trust Me (The Donovan Family Book 4)

by Margaret Watson

  "I'll get some water." He slid away from her, being careful not to jostle her head, and her eyes filled with tears. Why did Connor have to be so nice? Why couldn't he be a jerk? Jerkiness would make it a lot easier to forget about him.

  In a few moments he was back with a glass of ice water. "Here you go."

  He crouched on the floor in front of her, holding the pill in one hand and offering the water with the other. She swallowed the pill and drank half the glass of water.

  As she set the water on the coffee table, she picked up the remote and clicked off the television. Then she rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. "You hear from Alex yet? How did they do at the meet? Did all the girls get home?"

  "Yeah. Remember I told you before we ate? They won the meet. Renata was awesome. Between Jennings and the parents who were there, all the kids got a ride home."

  "Alex is a good guy." She tugged the throw around her shoulders. If she was going to get involved with someone, why couldn't it have been Alex? He wouldn't threaten her self-control. Alex wouldn't make her do reckless, dangerous things.

  Alex was safe. She'd never lose herself in him.

  Unlike Connor.

  She'd been rebuilding her walls since Saturday night. She'd made sure he couldn't call her. But here he was, sitting on her couch. Trying to distract her with a movie.

  It wasn't going to work. "How was Bella?"

  He hesitated a fraction of a second too long. "Jennings didn't say."

  She forced her eyes open. "That's bullshit. Of course he said. Don't coddle me, Connor, or I'll kick your ass out the door."

  "Now I'm scared."

  She scowled at the smile in his voice. "Tell me."

  He took her hand. "Bella was really upset when she heard what happened. Mostly, Jennings said, because her mother was angry. There was some yelling, apparently. Bella's mother took her home right after the meet."

  "I'll talk to Bella tomorrow." Connor was drawing circles on her palm with his finger, and she let her eyes drift closed. "Mmm. I like that."

  "Yeah?" He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the place where his fingers had been. "Then I'll keep doing it."

  This was why she hated the damn Vicodin. It took away every filter between her brain and her mouth. Made her blurt stuff out before she could stop herself. She especially didn't want to lose the filter with Connor. She was already dangerously close to being stupid about him.

  She yanked her hand away from him, focused her foggy brain and slowly stood up. "I'm going to bed." If she was sleeping, she wouldn't be talking.

  "Okay. How can I help you?"

  "I've been dressing and undressing myself for several years now."

  "Yeah, but it's a lot more fun if it's a joint project."

  His words went straight to every erogenous zone on her body. Her breasts grew tight and her clit throbbed. So did several other places. Clearly, the low, sexy rumble of Connor's voice did it for her.

  "Not sure I'm up for any joint projects tonight."

  "I know, babe." He curled his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. When she was leaning against him, he walked her slowly to her bedroom. "Fun thinking about them, though."

  "I'm not your babe, Donovan."

  "Yeah, you're right. You're more my badass."

  She shoved him away and narrowed her eyes. "Not your badass, either." She missed the pressure of his body against hers, and she glared even harder.

  "Okay, status unclear." He flicked on the bedroom light. "Where are your pajamas?"

  "Maybe I don't wear any."

  He snapped his head around and stared at her for a long moment. His eyes went dark. "Is that right?"

  Vicodin strikes again. "In the bottom drawer. I'll get them."

  He stuck out his hand to hold her in place on the bed. "No, you don't want to bend over. I'll get them."

  He wouldn't leave the bedroom while she changed her clothes – said he didn't want her to fall over. He did turn his back, but it didn't make much difference. With every rustle of clothing she removed, his muscles tensed. By the time she'd pulled on the tee shirt and pair of men's boxers, a muscle was jumping in Connor's jaw.

  "I'm set." It took all her strength to pull back the covers and slide between the sheets. Her head was spinning from the pain meds and she'd be asleep in about ten seconds. "Thanks for staying, Connor. Would you lock the door and turn out the lights on your way out?"

  "I'll take care of it," he murmured. He bent and brushed a kiss over her lips, and she swallowed. "Sleep well, Raine."

  ***

  Connor closed Raine's bedroom door half-way. He wasn't going anywhere tonight.

  Standing in the quiet apartment, hearing only the faint bass beat of music from the other side of the courtyard, he closed his eyes. Raine was safe. The man who'd punched her was in jail, and he'd stay there for a long time. Connor could breathe again.

  He wandered around Raine's living room, studying the books on the built-in bookcases, picking up the small vase of sea shells on one shelf, scrutinizing the scattering of photographs around the room. There was one of a ten or eleven-year-old Raine with a younger girl. Had to be her sister – the younger girl had light brown hair, but otherwise they could have been twins. More pictures, with Raine and her sister getting older every year. Then nothing until both women were adults.

  There were a few photos of two older couples, but that was it. No photos of anyone else.

  Just Raine and her sister.

  He ambled over to Raine's bedroom and peered in. Her chest rose and fell beneath the covers. He heard her even breathing. She was asleep.

  He sat on the couch and pulled out his phone. Two messages from Mia. He stared at the screen for a moment, then stood up and pressed the call button as he walked into the kitchen.

  "Hey, Con, what's up?" she said.

  "Just saw your messages," he said, keeping his voice low. "What's going on?"

  "Why are you whispering?" she demanded.

  "Raine's sleeping and I don't want to wake her up." Oops. Shouldn't have said that. Mia was going to be all over that slip.

  "Ha! I thought there was something going on."

  "She took two punches from a guy twice her size. Someone had to stay and keep an eye on her. I got the short straw."

  "Right."

  He could hear the smirk in his sister's voice. "What did you want?"

  "Don't know if you heard, but a neighbor of Peter Northrup – you know who he is, right? Our frequent flyer? The guy who's been calling to report a prowler?"

  "Yeah, I know who he is."

  "Anyway, one of the neighbors called the police the other night. Said Northrup was pushing a woman around outside his house. Shoved her into a car so hard that the alarm went off."

  His gut twisted. "What night, and what time?"

  "Two days ago. Sunday night. Around nine pm or so."

  "Did someone talk to Northrup?"

  "Yeah. Guy was all smiles and charm. Said he'd walked a friend out of the house. They'd been teasing each other. He tried to open her car door and she bumped into it. They were both laughing about it."

  "What about the guy who called it in?"

  "He said it didn't look friendly. Northrup looked angry. He shoved the woman."

  "Thanks, Mia."

  "You think it was your girl?"

  "She's not my girl," he said automatically. If she wasn't his girl, what was she?

  A woman who was trying to get herself killed?

  "You think it was your whatever, then?"

  "Don't know, but I'll find out. Thanks for the heads-up."

  "Anytime, Bro."

  "Night, Mia."

  "See you at work," his sister answered.

  She clicked off, and Connor slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  As he stepped into the living room, he glimpsed the pictures of Raine with her sister. She'd been arguing with Northrup two days ago. Today she got into it with Bella's father.
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  The pieces fell into place with a sickening crunch. He'd bet a million bucks she'd done the same thing both times. She'd pushed Abrietto to go after her, so she could retaliate. He'd been arrested. Locked up.

  She was trying to do the same thing with Northrup.

  Who was Raine Taylor? Was she the woman who'd lost control in his arms the other night? Who'd made love with him in public, against a tree, with wild abandon?

  Or was she an icy, detached woman who taunted her enemies into attacking her? Who pushed them into giving her a chance to take them down?

  How long had she been planning her revenge on Northrup?

  And Connor wanted her. Had thought about getting involved with her.

  What did that say about him?

  Hell. He knew better than to sugar coat this. He was already involved with her – a stalker. A woman bent on revenge.

  He'd been clueless about his former captain, too. The guy who'd turned out to be a criminal.

  What kind of cop did that make him?

  His gaze slid to a picture of Raine and her sister in front of a lake. Raine's smiling face filled the photo.

  Connor had trusted that smile. Just like he'd trusted his captain.

  Time to think like a cop. Time to assess the trouble Raine was in.

  Bella's father had been stupid. He'd taken her bait.

  Northrup was a different story.

  The man Connor had met was cold. Calculating. In control of himself.

  The realization chilled him.

  Raine must have taunted Northrup the other night, goaded him into losing his temper and shoving her.

  Northrup wouldn't lose his temper again. He was too smart for that. He'd do what he'd probably done to his wife. He'd wait for the right moment and take Raine by surprise. Kill her.

  He needed to look into Genie Northrup's case and make sure the investigating detectives hadn't missed anything. Because if Northrup had killed his wife, Raine was in big trouble.

  ***

  Raine woke to a sharp, stabbing pain in her head. It was dark in her apartment, and she glanced at the clock as she struggled to sit up. Three-twenty-two am.

  A glass of water and a pain pill sat on her night table. She fumbled the pill into her mouth, then washed it down. Connor must have left the pill and water next to her bed before leaving. She set the glass back on the table. She'd been angry when he'd insisted on taking care of her, but he'd thought of everything.

  A rustle of fabric came from the other side of the room. Raine froze. Someone was in her bedroom.

  Huddled in the corner was a dark, sprawling form. As she watched, it moved, rubbing fabric against fabric.

  Raine slid out of bed. Her head throbbed and her uninjured eye tried to decipher what it was.

  She crept closer, and finally realized it was Connor. He'd tried to sleep in her antique wooden chair, and now he was slumped half-on and half-off the tapestry seat.

  "Connor, what are you doing here?"

  He jerked, then opened his eyes and straightened. "Raine? What's wrong?"

  "You're what's wrong. I told you to go home, and you said you would. So why are you sleeping on my chair?"

  "Never said I'd go home." He stretched. His tee shirt pulled taut against his abdomen. Even in the faint moonlight streaming through the blinds, she could see the outline of his muscles. A six-pack.

  He was rumpled and sexy in the dim light, and she curled her fingers into her palms to keep from reaching for him. "Get out."

  "Sorry. Not happening. Go back to sleep." He slouched on the chair again, his head braced against the wooden back. His shoulders were wider than the top of the chair, and his legs splayed on the floor.

  "How am I supposed to sleep with you in the corner?"

  "Same way you did before. Close your eyes and count sheep." His eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Or run through tae kwon do moves. Your choice."

  "At least go sleep on the couch."

  "Tried that. Couldn't hear you breathing. Why I came in here."

  She didn't want the warmth that spread through her body. Didn't like the softness in her chest. "Then get in the bed. That's an antique chair, and I don't want you to break it."

  His gaze caught hers and held as he stood up. As he unbuttoned his jeans, his mouth curled up. "I can't resist a woman talking dirty to me."

  He wore boxer briefs under his jeans. A dark color. His shirt followed the jeans onto the floor, revealing a white tee.

  Lifting the covers, he slid in next to her. He lay on his side, watching her. "Go back to sleep, Raine," he said quietly.

  "Like I can fall sleep with you in my bed," she muttered.

  "I'm flattered. Go to sleep anyway."

  She heard the smile in his voice, and she slid beneath the covers. "Shut up."

  He was only an arm's length away. Less, if she rolled over. Her heart stuttered, and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he want to be in the bed with her? He hadn't called her after that night in front of Peter's house – she'd checked her missed call list. Maybe Connor only wanted to get through the night and leave.

  "You're thinking too much, Raine. Go to sleep."

  She stared at him for a long moment, then turned her back and curled into herself. After a moment, his arm curled around her abdomen and he pulled her against his body. The pain was fading from her head as the Vicodin kicked in, and her muscles relaxed. With Connor spooned around her, she was warm. Safe. Cared for. Just before she fell asleep, she murmured, "Thank you."

  Chapter 13

  Raine hummed in the back of her throat and burrowed deeper into her pillow. Connor was playing a leading role in her dream, and she struggled to get closer to him. His muscles were rock-hard against her hands, and his whiskers rasped against her cheek when she moved.

  His scent surrounded her, all fresh and outdoorsy. And he was warm. Her own personal blanket, tucked tight around her.

  In her dream, she was face to face with him. And he wanted her as much as she wanted him. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against her belly, and she wriggled against him. She needed him in that aching place between her legs.

  But she couldn't move. Why couldn't she move? Desperate to put him where she wanted him, she burrowed her hand between their warm bodies until the hot, hard length of his cock was in her palm.

  Except she couldn't feel his skin. He would be like velvet over steel, hard and soft together. She let her fingers explore until she found elastic, then she dove beneath it.

  He was as hard as she'd imagined he'd be. And his skin was just as soft. Silky. Hot. Smooth. His cock twitched in her hand, and she tightened her grip on him.

  Someone moaned. The sound vibrated through her head, and while she tried to figure out what was going on, hot hands slid inside her pants. Gripped her ass. One hand slid lower and stopped exactly where she wanted it.

  Best dream ever.

  She squirmed against the hand, making tiny sounds as tension coiled tighter and tighter inside her.

  "Jesus, Raine! What are you doing?"

  She startled and opened her eyes. She was staring at Connor's throat. A few dark hairs curled over the neckband of his tee shirt, tickling her cheek, and his hips jerked against her. His cock slid over her palm and bumped into her thumb, coating it with liquid.

  His fingers rolled over her clit, sending a tremor through her.

  She lifted her head to see blue eyes staring down at her. "Connor?"

  They stared at one another. His eyes were pools of darkness, the color barely visible. She was panting, and every breath pushed her breasts into his chest.

  For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Connor slid his hand out of her pants excruciatingly slowly. She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat and her hips jerked involuntary against his fingers.

  She was still holding his cock. Tightly. She let him go and snatched her hand away. Then she scooted away from him until they were separated by half the bed.

  "I was dreaming," she fin
ally said.

  "Hell of a dream you were having."

  "What were you doing?" she demanded. Always better to be the attacker than the defender.

  "What any guy would do when a woman has her hand wrapped around his cock. Returning the favor."

  Heat flooded her face. "I didn't know what I was doing," she muttered.

  "Hard to believe, because you were doing it really well."

  She glanced down his body and saw his boxers tented by an impressive erection, a tiny circle of dampness where his tip pressed against the fabric. Her face flamed and she looked at his chest. "I was asleep."

  His eyes darkened even more. "Can't wait to see what you'll do when you're awake."

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Why did you stop me?" she asked quietly. He'd wanted her as much as she'd wanted him.

  He studied her for a long moment, then pulled himself up to lean against the headboard. The movement pulled his shirt tight against his chest and abdomen, and her gaze lingered on his muscles.

  He leaned forward, as if making sure she understood. "It wasn't because I don't want you, Raine. Because I do. But you were punched in the face last night. You've been taking heavy-duty painkillers for the last twelve hours."

  He reached over and touched her sore cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I don't want to hurt you. We have some stuff to talk about. And a gentleman never takes advantage of a lady who might be indisposed."

  She scowled. "You don't know how I feel. I'm not indisposed. The last dose I took was four hours ago."

  A tiny smile curved his mouth. "Then you're due for another dose." He edged closer. "We'll have this conversation again when you're feeling better."

  He got out of bed and padded into the living room. His navy blue boxers cupped his still-hard cock and clung to his hard ass. Raine watched until he disappeared around the corner, then flopped onto the bed.

  What had happened to keeping her distance from Connor? Her subconscious apparently didn't like that idea.

  Sitting in her bed, her body throbbing, her conscious self didn't care much for it, either.

  She couldn't think clearly when her body was still humming with desire for him. She needed to calm down and get herself under control. Remember what she needed to do. Remember why getting involved with Connor was a bad idea.