The Renegade

by J. R. Ward

  By putting his whole body in the way.

  “Alex, will you leave me alone?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  He shoved the door wide and walked in. “You can’t take care of yourself, obviously. So someone better worry about you.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not going to be you. We already covered this, remember? Not your problem.”

  “Anyone else volunteering for the job? Aside from O’Banyon, I mean?”

  She threw up her hands. “You’re insane, you know that? Does Madeline know how nuts you are?”

  He shut the door. “Yes, she’s been under me for years.”

  Oh, there was a terrific image. “Alex, will you just—”

  He grabbed her upper arms. “You scared the hell out of me. I walked into Doc John’s and could barely see I was so terrified.”

  That shut her up. “Why?”

  He opened his mouth. Clamped it shut. Tried the whole talking thing again. “Ah, hell, Cassandra. I don’t want you to be sick. And I don’t want you to be unhappy. I don’t…”

  He dropped his hands, looking curiously helpless.

  Abruptly her energy burst left her, just evaporated into the air, leaving her tired and tender. She went over and sat on the bed.

  “Alex, just go,” she said quietly.

  He didn’t. He came over and lowered himself to the mattress, stretching his leg out in front of him. In the silence he picked up his cane and twirled it slowly in one hand, like a baton. Her eyes latched on to the movement. The lazy circling of the handle had a hypnotic effect, like the slow spinning of a watch dial’s third hand.

  He cleared his throat. “Last night, after you told me about Reese, I got so angry I wanted to put my fist through a wall. I just…I believe every word you said, but can’t believe it happened, you know? I can’t fathom why a man would do that to any woman he was married to, but especially to you. It’s damn appalling, it really is. If he were alive today, I would be yelling at him right now.”

  She glanced over. And tried not to love him even more.

  He was so full of honor and decency under that gruffness, she thought. A true man of his word.

  How she adored him.

  “Madeline is a very lucky woman,” she murmured.

  He frowned, the cane stopping. “Huh?”

  Cass waved her hand, trying to wipe the words away. “Nothing.”

  He shifted to the side, regarding her as if she were crazy. “You think Mad and I are…”

  “She’s your Miracle, isn’t she? And you can’t be with her because she’s a member of your crew. That’s the why of it, right?”

  Alex stared at her and then laughed a little. “No. Mad’s good people and I’d go through hell for her. But there’s nothing like that going on. Never has, never will.”

  “Oh.”

  Then who was she?

  An awkward quiet stretched between them.

  “Well, thank you for your concern this afternoon,” Cass said, trying to get him to leave. Trying to end things.

  She should tell him she was returning to New York, she thought.

  Cass looked up. And stopped breathing.

  Alex was staring at her with an absorption that made her feel marked, his navy eyes fixated, penetrating.

  He leaned into her, her name coming out of him on an exhale.

  She closed her eyes as Alex kissed her cheek. She expected him to pull back right away. Instead, he kissed her again, a little lower. Then lower still.

  Then his mouth was on hers.

  His lips were soft. So very soft. She opened her eyes a little. His massive shoulders were turned toward her, his big body pivoted on his hips. He kissed her again. Gently.

  When his tongue came out and flicked across her lower lip, she broke the contact.

  “Why are you doing this?” she groaned. “I thought it was just once. You told me it was just once.”

  While he pulled back and rubbed his face, her eyes drifted down his body and focused on his need. “You want me.”

  He looked down at himself. Tried to cover up with his hands what was showing through his jeans.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Enough to break your once-only rule?”

  He cursed, a vile word that cut through the quiet room. “You don’t need to ask me that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you know the answer.” His eyes shot to hers as he deliberately rearranged his erection.

  “Last night,” she murmured, “when you left, was it because you wanted me then, too?”

  “Yes.”

  Sweet relief poured through her. To know that he still wanted her, still needed her, even if his Miracle—

  Cass bit her lip and stared at his mouth.

  She knew she was falling deeper into a spiral that was only going to bottom out with her in pieces. But still, if she could have him one last time, she’d take him. Even though it would just hurt her more later.

  Except, the start would have to come from him. She wasn’t going to get turned down again. She knew what she wanted. He was the one who was on the fence, trapped between where his body wanted to go and where his heart wasn’t.

  Their eyes met and held.

  Kiss me again, she willed. Kiss me. Now.

  Alex got to his feet and left.

  As the door closed, she felt as though she’d been stabbed in the chest.

  Stupid. Stupid…idiot.

  Going home was such the right thing to do, she thought, as she peeled her clothes off.

  She went into the bathroom and had a quick shower, careful not to make the water too hot. When she got out, she wrapped a towel around herself and went back into the—

  Cass froze.

  Alex was in the bed, propped up on the pillows, his bare chest resplendent. With one fluid, powerful movement, he drew the covers back and revealed his nakedness, welcoming her to lie beside him.

  “I had to tell Spike to go home,” he explained.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alex watched, heart in his throat, as Cassandra’s gleaming green eyes drifted down his body. He knew it was wrong to be with her, because she deserved to know the whole truth, but he would tell her everything tomorrow. Tonight he couldn’t fight what he needed anymore and he prayed she would let him inside.

  Her towel dropped to the floor.

  She came toward him, her body moving slowly, gracefully.

  As she slid in between the sheets and up against him, he let the covers fall over them both. He pulled her body on top of his, tangling his legs in hers, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her mouth. With restless, desperate sweeps, he smoothed his hands over her back and her hips and her bottom.

  “I want this to be good for you,” he said, shoving her hair aside and going for her ear. “But I’m so hungry. I just need…I have to be with you.”

  She said something in a husky, sexy voice, but he didn’t catch the words because he was flipping her over and settling himself on top of her. Lacing his fingers through hers, he held on to both of her hands and squeezed as he kissed her deep enough so he lost his breath. The suffocation increased his pleasure, cranking the heat up so high his whole body, not just his erection, burned. He kissed her harder, feeling as if he was dying and desperately wanting the sweet death she gave him, wanting it until he shook. Raw, wild, unworthy, he needed her, he loved her, in spite of his failings.

  And she wanted him, too. He could feel it in the surging feminine body under his hard contours; in the gasp she let out as he moved down to her breast and took her nipple between his lips; in the flush that bloomed over her satin skin.

  In a frantic, jerky movement, he reared up onto his knees and threw off all the bedding. Looming over her writhing body, watching her look at him with greed, he was half-mad with the wanting.

  But he stopped. “Cassandra…” His voice was little more than a growl. “I’m…sorry.”

  She arched, throwing
her breasts up, knotting the sheet under her in frustration with her hands. Her legs shifted restlessly.

  “For what?” she moaned.

  “I can’t stop. I should, but I can’t.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “You will later. You will wish we hadn’t done this. Any of it.”

  She let go of the fists she’d made in the sheets and reached up for his body. “I don’t want to think about later. I only want to know now.”

  * * *

  Cass stared up at Alex’s perfectly beautiful body. His perfectly aroused body.

  His need for her looked as if it must have been painful, it was so swollen, so stiff.

  But his eyes were haunted. She shook her head.

  “Don’t police my feelings, Alex. Be with me if you want to, but let me worry about myself, okay?” When he stayed still, her voice turned hard. “What are we doing here, Alex? I’m clear with what I want. Is it yes or no for you?”

  He answered by leaning down and running his hands up the inside of her thighs. He coaxed her legs apart, and she arched, ready to have him lie between them.

  The sensation of his mouth on her hip was a shock. And so was the way he lowered himself to the mattress, his great arms slipping beneath both her knees, the width of his shoulders lifting her legs, separating them. The sight of his massive torso under her slender thighs made her feel so very small and it turned him into some great male animal, stretched out before her most vulnerable place.

  Something chilly fluttered through her. Not fear, because she knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her. It was just…the intimacy seemed a little overwhelming.

  As if he sensed her hesitation, he rubbed his head on her belly, his hair soft and silky. She could feel his breath on her skin, hot and moist.

  “Will you let me do this, Cassandra? Will you let me know you this way?” He kissed her right below the navel and then licked the spot. “Because I want to. So badly. I’ll be gentle, I promise. So very gentle.” He nuzzled his face against her. “Please let me do this…nice and slow.”

  “Yes, Alex…”

  His big hands splayed over her stomach, holding her down, as his mouth found her very center. She cried out at the contact of his lips, and he looked up at her, eyes shining out of the low angle of his face. He watched her as he pleasured her, taking her in two ways, with his languorous mouth and his hungry gaze.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely. “Oh, sweet heaven…the honey of you…”

  A wave of pleasure crested and sank her, throwing her body into contractions that tightened her from head to foot. In the midst of it, a heavy weight came down on top of her and then there was the sweet invasion of him, the awareness that he was sliding deeply within her, the glorious joining.

  His head burrowed into the pillow next to hers as his body went through its erotic masculine dance. His breath punched out of him, the roar of it loud in her ear. She savored the slick sweat and the vibrant heat and the pounding power of him. Her hands went to his back and she held on as best she could.

  When he reached his pinnacle, he called out her name. And spilled himself into her like wine.

  * * *

  It was sometime later when Alex craned his neck around and looked at the clock. Nearly midnight.

  Time for him to go. It wouldn’t be a good idea for both Cassandra and him to show up at White Caps in the same car in the morning. Not in front of all those workmen of hers.

  He closed his eyes and put his head back down just so he could relish holding her in his arms for a little longer. Then he slipped out of the bed and dressed quietly.

  Leaning over her, he kissed her softly on the shoulder. He didn’t want to wake her up, not given how exhausted she was.

  Downstairs, he called Spike who, bless his heart, was in front of Gray’s in ten minutes.

  Alex got into the car.

  “Thanks—” He frowned, pausing as he went for the seat belt. “’Scuse me, man. But those pants you’re sporting. Are those what I think they are? Are those…jammies?”

  “I was crashed when you called, okay? And there’s nothing wrong with Star Wars.”

  Alex grinned. “For a twelve-year-old, maybe. I didn’t know they even made that kind of thing in man-size. Do they have the little footies on them?”

  Spike flipped a choice finger in the air and downshifted.

  “Well, do they?”

  “No.”

  “That is such a disappointment.”

  Spike pulled up to the workshop and Alex glanced at his friend. “Hey, thanks for not asking. You know, about Cassandra.”

  The man nodded. “No problem. I’m just glad you finally got it together.”

  Except they weren’t really together.

  And God knew, they were going to be worlds apart tomorrow, when he told her everything.

  In an odd way though, he felt relieved. The hiding had gone on for so long that it had become a permanent condition in his life, like the color of his hair or his eyes. The realization that the end point had arrived was strangely liberating.

  He would get over the feeling, he was damn sure of that. Because how Cassandra was going to react when he was through talking was not really an open question. She might have fallen out of love with her husband, but that didn’t mean she’d want to keep making love with the guy who’d let him die.

  And as for the news that he’d loved her from afar for years? He couldn’t imagine that was going to go over any better. He was going to come across as an obsessed, dishonorable lunatic.

  But telling her only part of the story wasn’t an option. He had to let both halves loose because the two were inextricably linked. His love for her and Reese being lost to the sea were…one and the same in all the ways that mattered.

  “Lex? You cool there, buddy?”

  “Uh, yeah. See you in the morning.”

  “You betcha.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The trip to Blue Mountain Lake took longer than Alex had expected because the Norwich brothers had been psyched at the prospect of a partnership, and their excitement had been contagious. It was very possible that the three of them could work something out, and Alex was pumped from all the ideas spinning in his head. As the Honda sped south on the Northway, heading back toward Saranac Lake, he found it hard to remember why he couldn’t be a sailor and a builder.

  Then he shifted his leg under the glove compartment and was even more convinced he could do both. As the pain he now took to be normal sat up and knocked on his nerve endings, the sting made him think about the future.

  He couldn’t keep going in the sailing racket forever. A professional captain had a longer career horizon than other athletes, sure, but it was still a hard, rough life and his leg was going to be a permanent liability. No matter how much he rehabbed the damn thing, it was always going to be weak, and if he ever injured it again, he could lose the limb below the knee. All it would take was snapping that titanium rod out of place and he was done for.

  Spike glanced at him. “You want to stop for eats somewhere on the way home?”

  “Actually, I want to go directly to Gray’s.”

  The grin that came back at him was all-knowing. “Am I going to get another one of those midnight calls again?”

  Alex winced. “Yeah, about that, I hated dragging you out of bed.”

  “Come on, Lex, I’m just busting on you for fun. It’s no biggie. I just don’t want to hear about my intimate apparel, you feel me?”

  “They had light sabers on them, buddy.”

  “So?”

  “And R2D2.”

  “Yeah, and you can kiss my Wookie, dig?”

  Alex threw back his head and laughed.

  Twenty minutes later they pulled up to Gray’s. The Range Rover wasn’t there, but a white Chevy Suburban was parked in front.

  Alex frowned. “Hold up, Spike, will you?”

  He went to the front door and drove the brass knocker home a cou
ple of times. Libby answered. The words they exchanged were polite, friendly.

  And killed him. Just laid him out flat until he thought he was bleeding.

  He went back and got into the car, hoping he’d numb out soon, praying that shock would set in.

  “Take me home, man,” he said roughly.

  “What’s doing?”

  “She’s gone. Back to New York. She’s left the project. Take me home.”

  * * *

  Cass opened the door to the Manhattan penthouse and breathed deeply. The place smelled as it always did: lemon wax and old wood. As she put her bag down, and heard the sound echo into the high ceiling of the marble foyer, she decided she was definitely going to sell the place. It was too big for her to live in alone and it had always been Reese’s somehow, even though they’d bought it and furnished it together.

  Cass shut the door and felt the darkness around her as a tangible thing, like heavy cloth or a thick fog. Drawn by the ambient light ahead of her, she walked through the grand living room, passing by the phenomenal stretch of windows with their sweeping view of Central Park. As she wandered aimlessly, the antiques and the furniture were nothing more than shadows, the extravagant draperies like ghosts, the sound of her footfalls and sighing a muffled fugue.

  Absurdly frightened, she turned on all the lights, and not just there, but in every one of the fifteen rooms. Even though she had spent all her nights alone in the place since Reese had died, now she felt unsettled and isolated. Very much alone.

  Eventually, she calmed down and had a bite to eat out of the freezer. Before she retired to bed, she went around and turned off the lights. When she got to the library, she stared at the portrait of Reese that hung over the marble fireplace. The painting was a very good one, executed by a master, and the eyes followed you.

  Which struck her as appropriate. Because she suddenly had a lot to say and wanted his full attention.

  “I love him,” she told the portrait. “And, yes, it’s more than what I felt for you.”

  Reese with his competitive nature would have wanted to know that, even if it had hurt him.