The Detective’s Undoing

by Jill Shalvis

She needed to be heir, dammit. “Cade, tell me.”

  He glanced down and she did, too, seeing with surprise that her hands were gripping the front of his shirt. He covered them with his own. “I found Eddie Kitze. He really existed, and he wasn’t Ethan Freeman. He’d lied about being an undercover cop because he was a rich spoiled brat, out for a good time, slumming, as Dottie called it. He was a coward, afraid of his daddy’s wrath and the loss of his inheritance.”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t Ethan Freeman’s daughter. She wasn’t heir. “How did you find out?”

  “Paper trails. After we separated in Los Angeles, I went back to good old Dottie.”

  “And opened your wallet again,” she guessed bitterly.

  He didn’t deny that, which only added to her misery. “She had some insight to your mother’s life-style, which filled some of the holes.”

  “Such as why she dumped me? God, she must have been so angry when my father ditched her and left her saddled with a baby she never wanted.”

  “She wasn’t angry, not then. Actually, she was thrilled, because it meant they were equals of a sort. But that was before she told him she was pregnant.”

  “He ditched her.”

  “He denied knowing her first. Her family disowned her, and by the time you were three, she was broke and pretty furious about it.”

  No wonder she’d left Delia at a foster home. She’d probably been reminded of her stupidity every time she looked at her daughter. Delia grimaced and told herself enough of the self-pity.

  She had Jacob to think of now—and no way to guarantee custody.

  Her eyes burned with that knowledge. Her throat became so tight she couldn’t have spoken her feelings if she’d wanted to.

  And Cade’s eyes were on her, dark and compassionate. “Delia,” he whispered in a voice filled with too much pity to take. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry—”

  “No,” she whispered, flinching away when he tried to touch her.

  “You’ll still get Jacob. You will.”

  “Yes,” she said, not knowing if she was reassuring him or herself; either way she didn’t believe it. She was incredibly close to meltdown, closer than she’d been in some time, and she couldn’t have him witness it, not when she wanted to be strong. Needed to be strong. “I…I need to go.”

  “But—”

  “I… Goodbye.”

  And she pushed away and ran from the barn, hoping to make it somewhere private before the tears swimming in her eyes fell.

  Chapter 12

  Cade stared after the quickly vanishing Delia. She wanted to be alone, she’d made that clear, but he wasn’t convinced being alone was the best thing for her.

  She seemed perfectly in control, but he knew that was what she wanted him to see, that beneath that mask of icy elegance was a woman close to shattering.

  And why wouldn’t she be? He’d just destroyed what she saw as her only hope to get her brother, though he didn’t believe that to be true. It went deeper than that, though, which is what disturbed him.

  Whether she admitted it or not, she had calculated her self-worth on her past. And discovering she’d come from two selfish strangers who couldn’t care less about the tiny miracle of life they’d created had destroyed her.

  It made her feel as though she was nothing, as though she deserved nothing, when in his opinion, she deserved the world. She certainly deserved to have someone love her. Her sisters did, but as hard as it was to believe, Cade wasn’t quite certain that Delia did.

  She was probably right this minute heading back toward the house, channeling her loss into that cool calm collected front she’d perfected.

  She’d be hell to live with today, he knew. Not that he was a glutton for punishment, but he figured that being the bearer of bad news would not endear him to her. She’d probably go after his hide, rather than silently torture herself all day.

  Who was he kidding? He wanted to find her, haul her close and never let go.

  He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. The burning ache to hold her in his arms could not be endured. With a heartfelt oath, he left the barn to find her.

  Only, she wasn’t heading toward the house as he’d first assumed. No, somewhere along the way, his city girl must have lost a good part of her reserve about the wilderness, because she was heading toward the hills, her long legs striding with purposeful confidence, her shoulders back and proud.

  She didn’t want his company.

  He followed, anyway.

  Delia didn’t know where she was headed, only that she had to go. Her vision wavered with each step she took, and her throat and chest burned so badly she could scarcely breathe.

  But soon walking didn’t satisfy her. It wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t taking her far enough, so she burst into a run and let loose through the woods as fast as she could go.

  When she was beyond exhaustion, she stopped, sagging against a tree. Over the blood roaring in her ears, she could hear the river.

  Staggering, she turned toward it and found herself on a high bank, staring down at the river as it rushed past rocks and sand. She stood there all alone with her misery, with God’s glory spread out before her.

  How had things fallen apart so, when only days ago she’d felt as though she had the world in her palm?

  She wasn’t heir.

  She wasn’t going to get Jacob.

  Her heritage was one of greed and selfishness.

  And the only man she might have ever been able to love didn’t, or couldn’t, love her back.

  That last thought pretty much burst the fragile dam she’d been clinging to. With the tears finally overflowing, she sank to her knees on the frozen bank of the river and dropped her head into her hands.

  Cade found her like that, kneeling away from him, sobbing her heart out in tune with the river. It was heart-wrenching, made all the more so because he knew she felt as if she had no choice but to hide to cry.

  She truly believed she was completely alone in this.

  “Delia.”

  She jerked, the only sign she’d heard him, and went utterly still. Her shoulders stiffened with the weight she carried, and in that moment he would have done anything to ease her burden.

  How to make this better?

  There was a gap between them, a gap he’d put there. What would happen if he breached it just this once?

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

  She didn’t move, just remained terribly silent.

  “I know it didn’t work out the way you wanted, but it can still—”

  “Go away.” She said this quite clearly, though her voice broke slightly on the last syllable. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Delia.” Was he supposed to be able to do that? “You’re crying, let me—”

  “I’m not crying,” she said fiercely, taking care to keep her back to him. Her long golden hair fell forward, exposing her sweet neck, making her look young, too young for all she’d been through, and so sad his heart ached. “I told you, I’m fine.”

  She was shaking with the effort to hold back the storm of tears he’d interrupted, he could see that now. And something within him trembled, too. “Delia, please.” He sank to his knees behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, moving slowly, afraid to spook her; she felt as fragile as priceless china. He slid his hands down her arms to her hands and linked their fingers. He wanted to turn her around and hug her tight, but she had to do this, had to make the decision to let herself go in front of him. Gently he tugged at her resisting form, pulling her back against his chest. “Let me in. Come on, sweetheart, let me in.”

  “No.” She held back, until their bodies touched, until he crossed their joined hands in front of her, hugging her tightly to him, bending over her shoulder to press his cheek to hers.

  “No,” she said again, less firmly and with far more tension in her husky voice.

  “Yes,” he whispered, rubbing his jaw on hers. “You’re not alone in this. I’m righ
t here and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But for how long?” She struggled again. “Until your past haunts you again and you take off?”

  No one knew better than he that truth hurts far more than lies. He closed his eyes, feeling the pain his actions had caused. “Never mind,” she choked out, trying to free herself. “Just never mind. Go away, Cade.”

  As if he could. Holding her close, he put his mouth to her ear. “I can’t…I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You will. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

  “That’s not why you were crying.”

  “I’m nothing more than a huge mistake.” She tried to turn away from him, but he held on to her.

  “Delia…no, not a mistake.”

  “Go away, Cade.”

  She needed tough love, he decided, and he was frustrated enough to give it to her. “So you’re not Ethan’s daughter, all the better since he was a jerk, anyway. Now you know for certain you don’t share his blood.”

  That really stiffened her spine. “And I know for certain I’m not the heir.”

  “So you’re not the heir. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. Maddie is the only one left, and she’s always said if she turned out to be the one, she’d put Triple M in all three of your names.”

  Still angry and humiliated, Delia wouldn’t look at him, but he could tell she was soaking up his words with a quivering intensity that broke his heart. He went on, “And yes, Scott is a sneaky jerk. And he might try to cause trouble, but he has his own weaknesses, and that gives us some leverage. The judge can’t ignore what we’ve told him. He can’t overlook it.” As Cade spoke, he stroked her back, trying to break through the wall she’d erected between them. “Are you listening, Delia? Do you understand? Scott can’t hurt you.”

  “I understand, but really, I’m fine.”

  He swore, one particular vulgar oath that wasn’t enough to express his frustration. “Don’t lie, not to me. You’re not fine. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”

  “My mother was stubborn,” she said dully.

  “How can you compare yourself to a woman who never deserved to have such a wonderful compassionate sensitive daughter?”

  “It’s true.”

  “You’re going to make me really mad, Delia.”

  Her reaction surprised him. She let out a laugh. Then with a soft sob, she twisted in his arms and buried her face in his neck, plastering that long willowy body he’d been dreaming about to his.

  Because she’d startled him, they fell to the frozen ground, and he stretched out, grabbing her and hugging her close. “Let it go,” he whispered, gently stroking her wildly trembling body. It was cold, they needed to get up, but she was going to shatter if she didn’t let it go. “Come on, baby.”

  “I…can’t.”

  “I’m right here, you’re not alone.”

  “No, I…”

  In spite of herself she burst into tears. Feeling helpless, he pulled her closer, murmuring wordlessly in her ear as she let go with a hard reluctance. She cried with such pent-up passion that he knew she’d stored this all up inside for far too long.

  She wasn’t a graceful crier, but messy and noisy, which was so inexplicably endearing he could hardly breathe. Finally she quieted, but still kept her face buried against him.

  “All I’ve ever wanted is to help you, Delia. I…I have money. I’ve wanted to offer it to you several times, but I knew you’d never accept—”

  “No,” she said flatly, and lifted her head. “No.”

  “You know I was an attorney, before my wife and son… Before.” He tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. “I have a lot of money, more than I know what to do with. You can use it to—”

  “No.” She pushed away from him and lay flat on her back, looking up into the stark sky. “I won’t be a user, like my parents were.”

  “It’s not the same—”

  “If I’m going to be their daughter, and it appears I have no choice, I sure won’t be like them. It’s enough that I have to live with the knowledge that all my life I’ve wanted nothing more than security. Maybe I didn’t mean money, exactly, but it equaled the same thing, which makes me no better than they were.”

  “Accepting my help is not the same thing.”

  She sat, hugged her knees and looked so miserable he felt torn to shreds.

  “I’ve never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly. “Never.”

  “I know.” Her eyes met his. “And I’m not that stubborn, Cade. If it comes right down to it, I’ll ask for help before I lose Jacob.”

  “But you could have so much more…”

  “No, I can’t,” she said softly. “I can’t have the ‘more’ that I want.”

  “Delia.” How to tell her he thought that maybe the “more” she wanted was exactly the same thing he wanted. But the thought was so unnerving he didn’t know what to do with it. Instead, he reached over and pulled her close.

  It started out as comforting. Warm. Safe. But then they shifted, and he felt her curves and soft skin. Her lips brushed his throat once, then his jaw, and the touch spread wildfire through his body. Before he could stop himself, he whispered her name in a voice thick and raspy with longing.

  In response, she snuggled closer, and he wondered if she wanted more comfort or just…but then she slid her tongue over his skin, giving him his answer. When she did it again, he made a strangled sound that he couldn’t control, and she froze.

  “Is that…?” she began. “Was that wrong?”

  Was she kidding? If it’d been any more right, he’d have died right there on the spot. With his fingers he pushed her hair away from her eyes and lifted her face.

  “You can never go wrong when you touch me,” he told her, watching her anxiety fade. “Ever.”

  She smiled, a curious combination of come-hither and innocence. “Maybe you’re cold?” she asked.

  “Not with your body pressed against me.”

  “Okay, good.” Once again she buried her face in his neck. “You always smell so good, good enough to…” She bit him lightly, then sucked that skin into her mouth.

  Unsettled by how quickly his body went from the comforter to the seduced, he inhaled sharply. He was as aroused as he’d ever been, with just one touch of her tongue.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me and make me forget.” She didn’t wait for him to comply, but reached up, threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. “Don’t make me beg.”

  “I’ll be the one begging,” he managed, trying his damnedest to remember how vulnerable she was right now, how he couldn’t possibly take advantage. But then she touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth, her blue eyes clear now and very aware.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered again.

  Helpless to resist, he did just that, pressing hard against her before he could think. Then there was no room to think because he had her warm lush body sprawled beneath him, her breasts plumped against his chest, her thighs spread to accommodate his. His hands slid down her sides, then back up, finding their way beneath her soft sweater, over her quivering stomach and ribs to cup her breasts.

  “Yes,” she gasped, arching into his palms, and he crushed her to him for more mind-blowing kisses, each beginning before the last one finished. It shouldn’t have surprised him how right it felt to hold her, to touch her, to just be here with her. He’d been with other women since he was widowed, but always as a mutual physical release.

  This wasn’t just physical, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be something he could easily walk away from, but even that didn’t stop him.

  Nothing could have stopped him, except Delia herself.

  His fingers found the thin straps of her bra, and he pulled them down. He slid up her sweater, baring her to his gaze, and when he looked down at her, saw her full curves, the dusky peaks hard and pebbled, he thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Hands suddenly unsteady, he held her
still, bent his head and drew one of the pouty nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as she gasped his name and gripped him more tightly. Her hips were undulating in a rhythm against his, and when he stroked a hand down to them, seeking her heat, her center, he found her soaked from the ground.

  They were lying on the ground, the frozen ground, which their bodies had heated up and thawed. “Delia…” She would catch a cold.

  Hell, he would catch a cold, too, given the way she had him puffing air as if he’d run a five-mile race uphill. But she didn’t seem to care, if the throaty little pants she was letting out were any indication. And because he was powerless to resist, he rasped a thumb over her nipple one last time. “Honey…”

  She tossed back her head, eyes closed as if she’d never experienced anything like this before, and yet she boldly slid her hands down the back of him, cupping his buttocks, bringing him closer to the heaven between her thighs. He groaned as his raging erection slid over her moist heat, his vision nothing but a haze now. “We have to stop. Delia, we can’t…not here.”

  Her eyes opened, her gaze unfocused and sexy as hell. “What?” Her voice was low.

  “We have to get up.”

  Slowly, she blinked him into focus, her eyelashes still damp from her crying jag. “Stop?”

  It was the last thing he wanted to do. “Yeah.”

  “I see.” She pushed free and straightened her clothing—which meant she hid the most incredible body he’d ever seen from him—and shoved her hair out of her face. She stood, weaving a bit, until he stood, also, and steadied her. “I said I’m okay.” She took a step back from his assisting hands.

  “Delia.” Gently he rubbed at the tracks of tears on her soft cheeks. “Don’t vanish behind that cool calm of yours. Please don’t. You don’t have to always be the strong one.”

  Her look told him she didn’t believe that. Her words told him even more. “The case is over for you. Maddie’s the heir by default, which means you’re free to leave. That must feel…well, freeing.”

  He stared at her, stunned. It was true he was free. It’d been what he’d wanted, what he’d craved, and he hadn’t even realized it was now his for the taking.