Don't Tell

by Karen Rose

  “Time for bed, Tom,” Caroline said from the sofa to her son sitting at her feet.

  Guarding her, Max thought.

  “But, Mom—”

  “Good night, Tom,” Caroline repeated firmly. “Tomorrow’s a school day.”

  Tom rose, clearly unwilling to leave his mother alone. “Good night, Mom.” He hesitated, then added much more quietly, “Good night, Max.”

  Caroline rose from her comfortable seat nestled in the crook of Max’s arm to muss Tom’s blond hair, standing on her toes to reach.

  “Good night, Tom.” Max didn’t move from his position on the hard, lumpy sofa. Couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. His back hurt like the devil, but that pain was nothing compared to the throbbing of his body. If he stood up now, Caroline’s politely surly son would get a lesson in the birds and the bees that he’d never forget. Max doubted that would elevate his position on Tom’s meter of trust.

  Caroline was looking at Tom expectantly. She threw a pointed glance at Max.

  Tom flushed, shifting his body uncomfortably. “Um … Thanks for coming, Max.”

  “No problem, Tom. I should have gotten off my pity train and done something like that a long time ago. You should thank your mom for helping me see the light.”

  The two exchanged glances, eyes equally blue, equally expressive. I don’t trust him, Tom’s gaze screamed. Don’t argue with me, young man, Caroline’s answered firmly. “Go, honey.” Her command was soft, yet somehow brooked no argument. “Homework, then bed.”

  She watched Tom move stiffly to his bedroom, and when his door closed, her shoulders sagged for just a moment. But she straightened them, then returned to snuggle at Max’s side. “Well,” she said, smiling up at him.

  “Well.” He shifted against the corner of the sofa, but the position change brought no relief. The hour he’d spent watching television while she snuggled against him in a soft blue sweater and very snug jeans, with her suspicious son coiled on the floor like a guard dog at her feet had been pure torture.

  “That was pretty wonderful.” Her fingers toyed with the short hairs at his temple. “I was proud of you.”

  “It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.” He swallowed as emotion returned to battle the lust. “I told Frank I’d coach through the end of the season. I’ll, uh …” He swallowed again. “I’ll have to have my secretary clear my calendar of all late afternoon appointments.”

  Caroline caressed his lower lip. “I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.”

  “Caroline, about that note. Do you really want to quit?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “No. No,” he repeated softly when she flinched. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Caroline felt relief course through her. Perhaps everything was going to be all right after all. “I didn’t want to leave you.” She couldn’t miss the flash in those smoky eyes, intensely trained on her face. “I just didn’t think I could stay.”

  “You mean with me acting like an ungrateful, pompous, self-pitying sonofabitch?”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I normally don’t talk like that.”

  “But you meant it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you mean it now?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He’d leaned closer with every word until he covered her mouth with his. Lightly at first, reacquainting. Then he pulled away, making her sigh. “I missed you.”

  “Is that why you did this tonight?” she asked.

  “Partly,” he admitted. “I don’t think I would ever have done it on my own. It was hard, Caroline. I tried to go back, to look at pictures, to remember playing. I couldn’t.”

  “You will.” Her hands tunneled into his hair, bringing his face close again. “I’ll make you.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Sober, he pulled back far enough to see her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about everything you said. Your injury, learning to walk again. What happened?”

  Not now, she thought. Don’t spoil it by making me think about it now. But he was waiting for an answer, his heart in his eyes. “It was a long time ago. None of that matters anymore.”

  “If it happened to you, it matters to me. You never talk about your past. What happened to you, Caroline? Why were you alone, learning to walk again with no one caring if you lived or died? Please,” he pleaded softly. “I need to know.”

  “Max …”

  “Caroline.” He brushed her lips with his. “Please.”

  His sweet pleading plucked at her heart. “I fell down some stairs. When I woke up, I was in the hospital, partially paralyzed. My …” Caroline closed her eyes and searched frantically for the right words. She needed to tell him, but this wasn’t the right time. The closeness was still so new, so fragile. What if he didn’t want her anymore when he found out? It would be his right. Only a fool would want a woman with such baggage. Opening her eyes, her breath caught at the tender expression of caring on his beautiful face. Or a man in love. It was almost too much to hope for.

  “My?” he prodded gently.

  “Tom’s father didn’t love us, Max. We were something of a burden to him.” That much was true. “I can’t expect you to understand. Your family is so supportive. Not everyone is as lucky as you all are.”

  “He abandoned you when you were hurt?” Max’s lips thinned. She could feel his muscles clench in tightly controlled fury.

  “Something like that. I got better; that’s the important thing.” I got away, she thought to herself. “I came here. I met you.” She watched his rage ebb and tenderness take its place.

  “You met me. That’s the important thing. Caroline, I can’t tell you—” His voice threatened to break and he cleared his throat. “You’ve given me something very precious. My self-respect.”

  She shook her head. “No, I gave you nothing. It was always there, just waiting for you to claim it again. I just pushed a little. I was so glad to see you standing there today. So proud.”

  “I want to be the man you can depend on.”

  The tender words almost broke her heart. “I want that, too. I think you are.”

  “What would make you certain?”

  “I …” He was close, so close she could see the lamplight glint on the gray of his eyes. Too close for her to hide the feelings that seemed to sport a neon sign across her breast. Too close for her to want to hide one flutter of her heart. “I am. I need …” I need you to be certain.

  “What do you need, Caroline?”

  “I need you to …” Later. I’ll tell him later, she thought, surrendering to the urgency of the desire coiling deep inside her body. “Right now I need you to kiss me.”

  Her own gasp was the last thing she heard as he followed her command, twisting his body until she lay pressed into the sofa cushions, robbed of breath. Waves roared in her head, echoes of the beating of her heart. His mouth was voracious, devouring without punishing. He was by turns sweet and savage, nudging, nipping, tasting until she could only moan. She gasped again as his tongue stole inside her mouth, tracing, relearning every groove, the texture of every surface.

  Then her body went completely still as one large hand covered her breast, claiming her through the softness of her sweater.

  “Max.” It was half-protest, half-hosanna.

  “You are beautiful,” he breathed, his hand gently kneading. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

  “No.” It was a small wonder she could breathe, much less speak. His touch had her breasts swelling, pressure building. She could feel the rasp of the cotton of her bra against her nipples as they went hard. And every other ounce of feeling pooled low, making her arch instinctively, making him catch his breath in turn.

  “It’s true. Here,” he stroked the softness of her cheek. “And your eyes. They snared me from the first minute I saw you looking up at me.” Entranced, she stared up at him. “You want to know what else?” he asked with a trace
of a smile, which widened as she simply nodded. “Your mouth. Meant to be kissed.” He kissed her tenderly. “By me. I’ve dreamed of you, every night. And every dream ends the same way. With your hair spread across my pillow.”

  “Max.”

  “Sshh. Just kiss me, Caroline.”

  Helplessly entwined in the tender words, she kissed him back. Slow and sumptuous and just a little bit shy, she explored his mouth, experimenting with pressure and angle until she found just the right fit. His hand slid back down her sweater to cup her breast once again and just as before it swelled to fill his palm. She forgot reality, drifting away on a dream so precious she was afraid to wake up, afraid it truly had to be a dream. Nothing in her life had ever felt so good.

  “Damn!”

  Jolted from utter bliss, her eyes flew open to find his face contorted in pain. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered.

  “Your back,” Caroline guessed. “Sit back and try to relax.”

  She placed her hands firmly in the center of his chest and gave him the starting push he needed to dislodge the crick in his back. He groaned as he lay back, his eyes clenched shut.

  “I’m sorry, Max.” Caroline scrambled to her knees beside him. “I should have known better than to challenge you to anything that could hurt your back.”

  He opened one eye, then in a flash gripped her round bottom in both hands and swung her over to straddle him. “My back will be fine. It’s the rest of me that’s dying here.”

  Understanding lit her eyes, followed closely by amusement. “You don’t say.”

  He tilted her bottom, tumbling her against his chest. “I do say.”

  It felt good. Better than good. “You are the boss,” Caro-line murmured, playing as he’d taught her, nipping his lower lip gently, making his pelvis jerk forward. Her eyes slammed shut as another wave of feeling swept through her, splashing kaleidoscopes of color against her eyelids. The unmistakable evidence of his arousal nudged at her core, sending a shudder through her body. Her hands clenched in the fabric of the sweatshirt he’d borrowed from Frank after the game.

  “Oh God.”

  Her little moan stoked Max’s fire even higher and he struggled for control. “I want you, Caroline.” His hands kneaded her buttocks, bringing her into even closer contact with his rigid body. “I can’t hide it.” Her body stiffened and he studied her expression, a mixture of amazement and panic. His palms flattened against the small of her back and lightly massaged. “I don’t want to hide it. I want you to know.” He felt the muscles of her back begin to relax and was stunned to find soothing her was as erotic as kissing her. “I want you. I want to lie with you.” His own heart stumbled when she sank down on him, the sudden friction against his flesh almost unbearable. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel your pleasure.”

  Her body was shaking, draped against him, her arms now locked around his neck, her forehead resting against his. “Sshh,” he whispered. “Let me show you how good you can feel.” His hands slipped under the hem of her sweater and teased the curve of her waist, feeling the shivers race across her skin. His fingers traced the ridge of her spine, upwards until he came to the clasp of her bra. One twist and a tug and she was freed from the confining cotton. And a second later her warm flesh was cradled in his hands, the pebble-hard tips biting into his palms.

  His brain hazed, separating him from his normal repertoire of superlatives. “Caroline,” he breathed. It wasn’t flowery poetry, but still managed to convey the wonder and delight in his heart.

  Caroline tried to speak, but found all she could wring from her throat was a small whimper. His hands were warm and hard, yet tender and gentle all at once. His thumbs teased her, sending static bursts she felt down to her toes. She kissed him hard and deep and long, taking the initiative, reveling in his groan that was muffled against her lips. Every nerve in her body was sensitized, alive with pleasure. She wanted more. When he lifted his hips higher, she met him halfway, pressing hard, feeling the erotic throb of his erection against her own pulsing center.

  Ironically, it was that very sensation that triggered the return of reason. Tom was in the next room, and she wasn’t prepared to explain such a compromising position. But more importantly, she needed Max to be certain he could accept her past before she allowed their physical relationship to progress any further. She stiffened, lifting away from him, slightly, but just enough to break the most incredible contact she’d ever experienced.

  “Stop. We need to stop, Max.”

  With a guttural moan he went rigid before slumping back against the sofa, widening the distance between their bodies. “I’m sorry.” The sound of their labored breathing competed with the low murmur of the television. “No, I’m sure as hell not sorry. I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you.”

  Caroline forced herself to roll off his warm lap, sitting a safe six inches from him, knees to her chest, arms clutching her knees. “I didn’t.”

  His head swiveled around, his expression one of injured disbelief. “You didn’t?”

  She shook her head slowly, still caught in the web of arousal. “I couldn’t. I didn’t know anything like this even existed.”

  His eyes flashed, intense and possessive, and she felt her body warm once again. “Why didn’t you? You’ve had a child. Why didn’t you know about … this?”

  Caroline struggled for an answer to his claim that while unspoken, was every bit as strong as the question he’d voiced. And in the end voiced a question of her own. “Where are we going with this, Max?”

  “Tonight specifically or our lives in general?”

  Her mouth tipped up. “I could guess where we were going tonight. I may be inexperienced, but I’m not entirely ignorant. I do have a child as you have so astutely noted.” She sobered. “Our lives in general. Where?”

  Max pushed himself to sit straight on the sofa, wincing at the tightness against his zipper that had not begun to abate. She sat watching him warily, her body curled in a protective ball. He wanted to ask who’d hurt her spirit, tossed her aside, put those shadows in her eyes. But instead he simply told her the truth.

  “I’m falling in love with you.” Then panic gripped his gut at the tears welling in her incomparable eyes. “Why does that upset you?”

  “It doesn’t upset me.” She blinked, sending streaks down her face. “I just never expected it would be so beautiful when I finally heard it for the first time.”

  The hitch in her voice tore at his heart. That such a woman could go her lifetime without hearing the words was incomprehensible.

  “Ever, Caroline?”

  Her eyes dropped. “Ever.”

  He opened his arms. “Come here.” And folded himself around her when she crawled back into his lap and laid her cheek against his chest. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to hearing it.”

  “Max?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you too.”

  He gathered her close and hugged her until she gasped for breath. “You’re right. It is a beautiful thing to hear.”

  Caroline let herself be held and floated in bliss, refusing to mar the moment by thinking about the day when she’d tell him the truth.

  Asheville

  Friday, March 16

  9 A.M.

  Toni set her coffee cup on her desk on an ever-diminishing area of uncluttered desk. Her eyes were weary. Steven wondered how much sleep she’d had. “Status?” she asked.

  Steven looked over at Lambert, who gave him an “after you” gesture. After working closely with Lambert all night, Steven had determined the man was both sharp and indefatigable. Steven wished he himself was and swallowed the yawn that would surely have broken his jaw. “We found his truck parked in the short-term parking lot of Knoxville airport. He’d changed the plates, but we got a positive ID from the Vehicle ID number on the engine block.”

  “Careless of him,” Toni murmured.

  Steven nodded.
“He thinks he’s smart, but he has made some mistakes and that’s how we’ll catch him. Roger Upton booked a flight from Knoxville to Chicago O’Hare on Monday evening. The Roger disguise is pretty elaborate. He had to put on a goatee and thick sideburns and significant bulk around his middle. One of the desk clerks remembers him because he walked up to the counter to buy his ticket. She said most people buy their tickets far enough in advance to get discounts.” He and Lambert had been up all night making calls, and while they’d traced Winters’s movements, they were still no closer to finding the bastard. Steven sat up straighter in his chair, fighting a wave of his own exhaustion. “The clerk said he became agitated when she told him his suitcase was too large to carry on. He complained that it contained materials vital to his business and he’d be incapable of doing his job if he didn’t have that case. She suggested he take a non-stop flight which would reduce the number of times his bag was handled and he did that, even though the fare was significantly more expensive than the lowest fare which had two connections.” Steven’s mouth quirked up. “Of course that didn’t matter. He charged it to Roger Upton’s credit card.”

  Toni huffed a tired chuckle. “Enterprising.”

  Steven nodded. “He bought a first-class ticket.”

  Toni sipped her coffee. “Enterprising and discriminating.”

  “He rented a car in Chicago,” Lambert offered. “Same name. Clerk at the Avis counter said he flirted with her. He rented a large-size Oldsmobile, well equipped. He was a little annoyed when they didn’t have any Cadillacs.”

  “Our boy has style,” Toni said lightly, then leaned over to pick up her phone when it rang. “Ross.” Steven watched her brow furrow and her eyes slide closed. “Thanks … No, I’ll contact the boy’s mother after I escalate this up the line. The captain needs to be prepared for the press when this gets out ….Yeah, be prepared to do a rush analysis when I get the exhumation order approved.” Carefully she replaced the receiver and dragged the heels of her hands down her face.