Highly Charged!

by Joanne Rock

  She couldn’t wait to read the rest of the recovered journals to find out if her hunch could be right or if she was just weaving a romantic ending for a couple who were never able to be together.

  But right now, more than anything, she wanted to thank Brad. To throw her arms around his neck, to listen to the steady beat of his heart and reassure herself he was still in one piece.

  But the man she wanted to be with was already shaking off police questions and sauntering across the lawn toward his own house. Away from her.

  “Brad, wait.” She called to him, assuring a police officer still in her yard that she would be available for questions after they’d “secured the scene.” Whatever that meant.

  Slowing, Brad turned to face her midway between their houses where a few white birch trees grew in a semicircle around an old rock garden she hoped to restore. Killer scampered between them, still not knowing where he belonged. She could really relate.

  “I’ll send your animals back,” he assured her, even though she hadn’t been about to ask about the blue jay or the cat. “I’m glad you’re all safe.”

  “Thanks to you.” She slowed her jog when she’d almost reached him, not sure how to read his body language but fairly certain he wasn’t ready for her to fling her arms around him and cover him with kisses and gratitude. Not just because of their fight earlier, but because of what he’d been through with disarming the explosive. “I was so scared when you were in there.”

  “That makes two of us,” he admitted, his gaze going back to the farmhouse as one car pulled away with Harold inside. Two other officers were posting crime-scene tape, cordoning off the screen door.

  “Thank you for saving the house. And saving me.” She didn’t want to play it safe right now. She needed to tell him she wanted to be with him even if he wasn’t ready for more. At least she’d know she’d said the words. “Brad, I’m sorry for what I said before—about wanting you to leave. I was hurt and confused but I knew as soon as I walked in the house to get the diaries that it had been really stupid to push you away when I wanted to pull you closer.”

  Her heart pounded so fast. She had the sense that if she didn’t say it all now, in a rush, didn’t put it all on the table, she might never get it out. He was leaving soon and each day was incredibly precious, something she realized now more than ever. She—they—didn’t have the luxury of time.

  He stared at her. Waiting for a chance to tell her she was crazy? Cringing that she was making it all the more difficult for them to end this civilly? She didn’t know. But she knew she had to take this chance or she would always regret it. Chloe would want her to take this chance.

  “I probably should have just been honest with you before—” he began.

  A stabbing pain kicked through her and she didn’t want him to say anything yet. She covered his lips with her fingers, not caring if anyone else saw or if the officers next door had to wait five more minutes to speak to them. Heaven knew, they’d tried to talk to the police often enough when they hadn’t wanted to hear from them.

  “Wait. Just—wait. I know this has been a crazy few days, but I’ll take however many of those days I can have with you. If a one-day-at-a-time approach works better for you after all you’ve been through, I’m willing to try that. If that means it ends tomorrow or next week or next year—well, I won’t like it, but I’d prefer any of that to ending it today.”

  “You’re serious?” He stared at her with a steady gaze, his face inscrutable.

  The moment rivaled finding the bomb in the kitchen for its level of scariness. She swallowed. Jumped in.

  “Very serious.”

  A fresh-faced officer lumbered across the yard toward them, a pen in hand.

  “Folks, we’re ready to take your statements anytime,” he called from a few yards away.

  Killer barked at him.

  “Nikki’s been through a lot.” Brad nodded toward her and put a protective arm around her waist. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

  Nikki resisted the urge to simply close her eyes and curl into the warmth of Brad’s chest. She wasn’t sure how much of the display of affection was for show to ward off the questions.

  The cop nodded. “No problem. But the sooner we can talk to you, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair tonight.”

  “Understood.” Brad steered them a few steps farther away from the scene, closer to his house.

  He hadn’t let go of her yet. Could she take that as a good sign?

  “Nikki, the whole reason I pulled back today was more for your benefit than mine.” He turned her to face him, lifting his hands to her shoulders.

  The sun dipped behind them, the trees on fire with the burnished golden light. What a long, long day it had been.

  “Why would that help me?”

  “Because after the kind of childhood you had, I knew you wouldn’t want any part of my lifestyle. I’m all over the globe, all the time.”

  Her heart stuttered a little. Did that mean he’d been thinking about a future, if only for a moment?

  “It’s true I’ve been looking forward to having a real home.” She stared at Chloe’s house, crawling with police investigators and crime-scene photographers. “But I think it’s possible to have a home base and still travel. What’s important is that you’re with the one you care about when you can be. Chloe lived overseas for almost twenty years and still kept this house for when she returned home.”

  Almost twenty years that the groundbreaking sensual novelist had chronicled in those diaries. Nearly two decades of passionate affairs, the inspiration for erotica that had made a whole generation hot and bothered. Had she really been inspired by lovers all over the globe? Or was it possible one special man—a man whose identity she’d taken great pains to protect—had simply appeared in her diaries under a whole host of exotic names?

  It was exactly the kind of game Chloe would have loved.

  “You would consider that?” He leaned closer. His grip on her shoulders tightened ever so subtly.

  She thought about those same hands dismantling a bomb in her kitchen and tears sprang to her eyes. She was so lucky to have a man like this in her life. For however long she could.

  “Definitely.” She had no reservations. “I still want to get the house in order. But after that—if necessary— I could pack my bags and teach my classes online anywhere.”

  He was quiet so long she felt a wave of panic swell inside her. She guessed that methodical mind was at work putting the pieces in order, seeing if it could all add up.

  He hauled her to him with a fierceness that stunned her. He pressed her hard against his body, his face buried in her neck.

  “I knew it. I knew last night. You’re the one for me, Nicole Thornton.” He whispered the words into her ear, his cheek rubbing against her hair and sending shivery sensations down her spine.

  She angled back, wanting to see his face since she hadn’t been expecting such an emphatic declaration from the guy who’d pushed her away with both hands earlier. That didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat or ten.

  “Really?” She cupped the hard line of his jaw, her thumb tracing the rough cheek he hadn’t been able to shave today after she’d awoken him at dawn. Her strong warrior. “You thought that just last night and yet you scared the living daylights out of me today, letting me think it was over?”

  “I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you. Or me. Or—hell, I just didn’t want to jinx the whole thing. But I am so on board with this—you can’t imagine.” He wrapped her tight again, his hot, hard body communicating a desire to possess her right then and there.

  She loved that.

  And she was going to love him. She knew it deep in her soul. But she didn’t want to jinx it either. He’d find out soon enough.

  “We’re going to write hot letters to each other while you’re away,” she insisted. “Just like Chloe and Eduardo, only better because there are no military censors to worry about now.”

  �
��But unlike Eduardo, I have no intention of keeping you pure before I leave.” The look he gave her was so thoroughly wicked she felt a little breathless.

  “I certainly hope not.” She peered back toward the farmhouse at the police tape outlining the patio. “Looks like I’m going to have to bunk at your place tonight anyhow, so you can get started robbing me of my purity as soon as possible.”

  His feet started moving toward his house and then stalled.

  “Too bad we have to talk to the cops first.” He lifted his head to look back toward Nikki’s place.

  “Think of it as an opportunity to build anticipation,” she reminded him, trailing teasing fingers down his chest. “We’re going to be doing that a lot.”

  His predatory growl rumbled through his chest and excited her to her toes.

  “We’re going to talk fast.” He sifted his fingers through her hair and cradled the back of her head in his hands. “I’m having you in my bed in an hour, no excuses. And to give you something to think about until then…”

  He plucked a fat purple iris bloom from a nearby stalk and tucked the flower behind her ear. One silken petal stroked over her temple in a touch as sensual as his whisper.

  “…this will help remind you what I’m going to do to you later.”

  The heat that smoked through her body was only a precursor to what was building in her heart. If it was this good now, what would it be like in a year? Ten?

  Her toes curled inside her tennis shoes.

  “It’s a date.”

  Epilogue

  Four months later

  “DO YOU WANT MORE?”

  Nikki hovered over him, her mostly naked body never quite close enough after being away from her for so long.

  “Yes, ma’am. Much more.” He reached for her, but she danced backward with the frying pan full of chicken cacciatore in hand.

  “I meant more chicken.” Laughing, she put the castiron skillet on the stove in the renovated farmhouse. “Finish your dinner first, then we’ll see about the rest.”

  “Food can wait. I’ve only been home four days. If it was up to me, we’d still be horizontal.” He should have thought to hire a caterer for the first week since they’d never have to get out of bed then. “Your letters nearly killed me, woman.”

  This time when he reached for her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid into his lap at the dinner table. He forked the last few bites into his mouth with her all over him and that was just how he liked it.

  “I was only trying to build anticipation.” She grinned shamelessly, nipping his neck with her teeth. “I didn’t know I’d created a firestorm in such a short time.”

  She’d sworn the time had passed quickly enough and that she’d looked forward to him coming home more than she’d worried about him. Maybe after waiting for a year at a time to see her absentee parents, eighteen weeks wasn’t a big deal to her.

  “Short?” He, on the other hand, had missed her every minute. “It felt like forever to me. I’m thinking it won’t be long until I take that training position they’ve been mentioning. That way, I’d be here all the time.”

  He ran his hands over her bare thigh, her pink negligee keeping her covered while effectively driving him crazy to see the rest of her. Touch the rest of her. Taste the rest of her.

  “I’m with you either way,” she promised, tracing the outline of muscles in his biceps.

  He knew they turned her on so he flexed big-time in the hope of getting her back into bed sooner rather than later. In fact, he knew a lot about Nikki Thornton after corresponding with her for the last four months. Oh, sure, they’d emailed and set up video chats so they could see each other. But his lady professor was big on old-fashioned letters, and he had to admit he felt like he knew her inside and out now.

  And while he knew more than her turn-ons, he had to admit they’d come in really handy since he’d returned home from Mosul for good. He’d stay on base for a while and then they’d decide where to ship him next.

  “I can’t believe all you accomplished in the house.” Looking around the big, old-fashioned country kitchen, he would have never guessed it was the same place he’d found books stuffed in the wine rack.

  Now, the refinished hardwood floors gleamed in the candlelight from their late-night meal. A castiron candelabra hung over a repurposed butcher block counter that now served as the dining table. All over the property, windows closed properly, rooms were painted, flowers bloomed. The blue jay was gone, but there was a ferret to take its place. It hadn’t been injured, but according to Nikki it needed a home.

  “Really?” She looked around the room. “You can thank Emily Ralston for a lot of it. She worked hard once I forgave her for scaring me with the gunshot. She has a much better boyfriend now. Oh, and did I tell you she took that kitten you rescued?”

  “Yeah, you did.” He kissed her temple and decided they’d been out of bed long enough. The pink slip she was wearing was more than he could handle. “It sounds like you’ve been a good influence on her.”

  Nikki was helping the girl with her college search, encouraging her to go out of state to expand her horizons outside the sphere of influence of her family. Angelica hadn’t fought the idea, perhaps recognizing the slippery ethics of some of her relatives wasn’t helping her daughter.

  “I’m glad that she’s happy. It hasn’t been easy for the family since the truth came out about Harold.” She held on to him tighter as they turned sideways to pass through the door to the bedroom.

  Unlike Emily, Harold Ralston hadn’t fared well while Brad had been overseas. He was in jail and had been forced to come clean about a few indiscretions over the years with city money in his position as city councilman. The town wasn’t quite as enamored with the Ralston name anymore.

  “Harold’s loss is Ekualo’s gain.” Brad took care settling her on the bed they’d left rumpled and unmade. Her skin looked golden and warm against the crisp white sheets, her dark hair spilling over the pillow.

  Too soon, she sat up, her eyes bright. “It sounds like Ekualo did pretty well for himself even without any medals.”

  That caught his interest, as he’d identified with the guy right from the start.

  “How so?” He watched as Nikki tugged a sheaf of papers out from under a book on the nightstand.

  She handed it to him, pointing to the top sheet.

  “A marriage certificate.” It was a photocopy from an Italian courthouse. Barely legible. Dated 1945. “Eduardo and Chloe were married? All that time she was writing about her wild affairs—”

  “All of them were actually with Ekualo. She just used other men’s names to act out different kinds of scenarios and to tantalize her husband. It’s a good thing we didn’t print the diaries right away, because I actually found a foreword for the unexpurgated version that Chloe penned herself.” She pointed toward the next piece of paper, also a photocopy, of a letter in Chloe’s hand. “She apologizes to readers for the deception and explains how the diaries sprang from the sexy letters. The two of them continued to write about steamy en-counters after they were married and then they acted them out.”

  “The erotic diaries were…a lie?” He wondered what the revelation would do to her fan base as he flipped through the other papers, one of which showed Eduardo’s death certificate from 1963—car accident. He’d died young, yes. But he’d had almost twenty years with the woman he loved. Twenty amazing years chronicled in literature that would live on long after all of them. “Her books helped spur the sexual revolution. How will readers feel about that when they find out?”

  Nikki frowned. “I don’t think anyone is going to be disappointed with the idea that fantastic sex is possible with your husband.”

  Brad grinned, his imagination lighting with a few ideas of his own he wouldn’t mind playing out—as long as each one was with Nikki. “I guess not.”

  “You want to see if it’s possible after five times in a day?” Nikki lifted an eyebrow and hiked the hem of her sli
p suggestively.

  “Are you kidding me?” He set the papers aside on the nightstand, leaving Eduardo and Chloe to the past and ready to take on a future with the most amazing woman imaginable. “How about we see if it’s possible after ten?”

  “Shouldn’t we go for quality over quantity?” she teased.

  “Woman, you’ve built enough anticipation for a few hundred times at least.” He pinned her arms over her head, liking the look of her all stretched out and at his disposal.

  “Really?” She rubbed her thigh against his and his blood practically simmered on cue. “I guess you’d better get to work, Lieutenant. Consider yourself on special duty…”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8902-8

  HIGHLY CHARGED!

  Copyright © 2011 by Joanne Rock

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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