“Lucas, I want you.” Her voice was a husky moan as he slid his hand from her shoulder to her waist in a teasing, caressing motion. Unbearable heat and love poured through her and she clung tighter to him when he drew back to look into her eyes as he unsnapped her jeans.
The moan ripped from her when his mouth touched the bare, tender skin exposed by her zipper. He drew her jeans off, kissing every bare, exposed inch as he did, before tossing her jeans in the heap of clothes on the floor.
For a moment, he merely looked at her, then ran a finger, just one gentle finger, over her lips, down her chin, her shoulder, across the curve of her breast, down the flat of her bare belly, then down one leg, and up the other, first the inside, then the outside.
She was warm, wet and welcoming, and the knowledge almost pushed him past reason as his fingers expertly caressed her, sliding inside her welcoming body until her eyes glazed with numbing desire. He drove her higher, then higher still, until a moan ripped through her as she hit the peak and spilled over him.
She was nearly panting when she reached up to hook her arm around his neck and drag him back down to her, fusing her mouth with his for one hot moment.
“Off,” she murmured, tugging his shirt with a free hand, and he obliged, slipping out of his shirt, and then his pants, so that he could cover her naked body with his own.
He had to stop, to take a deep breath, to fill his aching lungs with air or else he’d go mad from the feel of that soft, feminine body, smooth as silk, slid against him.
Gently, he pushed her hair off her face, then stroked the length, wanting to prolong this pleasure, this madness. God, how he loved the feel of her hair. He’d never grow tired of the feel of it sliding through his fingers, rubbing against his skin.
She arched upward, kissing every inch her mouth could reach, wanting to taste him, to feel him, to be filled by him. To mate with the man she loved, to know the ultimate beauty of that love.
“Lucas.” She only said his name, but it was enough. He lifted her gently, and she arched in welcome, causing him to mutter a curse as her legs wrapped around him like a vise.
He buried his face in the silky skin of her neck even as he slowly buried himself inside of her, certain he would lose his mind from pleasure, the welcoming of her. He felt entirely possessive and protective of this woman who’d somehow managed to fill his heart and his mind, and stir his senses. The feelings threatened to overwhelm him, blinding him, deafening him to everything but the feel and touch of her.
“Lucas.” The word gasped out as she began to move beneath him, pure joy sliding through her as the rhythm of love nearly took her to the edge.
She clung to him, pressing her lips to him anywhere, everywhere, wanting this total connection, this total mating as the rhythm increased and they rocked against one another, faster and faster.
“Lucas, Lucas.” Her eyes closed, and she felt salty tears behind her lids for this beauty he’d given to her, for the joy of knowing and feeling love again.
She clung tighter to him, digging her fingers into his bare back, urging him on, whispering his name like a prayer over and over until he was nearly blind, dazed and delirious.
“Katie.” Her name wrenched from him as she went taut, then shuddered around him, dragging him over the edge of reason with her.
A log shifted, broke in half, then clattered to the bottom of the fireplace. The sound stirred her and Katie opened her eyes. She had no idea how long she’d been dozing, but it had grown chilly in the room, and the fire was half the size it originally was.
But she felt warm and cozy nestled naked in the crook of Lucas’s arm. She turned her head to look at him, to admire his profile, his strong, handsome features, her heart nearly overflowing with love. Unable to resist, she ran a hand over his bare chest, feeling the steady, soothing beat of his heart.
“I think our coffee’s probably gone cold,” she said, planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Would you like me to make some more?”
“No, thanks.” His voice was clipped, curt, and he didn’t look at her, he just kept staring up at the ceiling.
She touched his shoulder even as her own heart began to hammer in fear. “Lucas, what’s wrong?”
He sat up abruptly, dragging his hands through his hair. “Katie, look, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” she repeated, confused. The first pebble of pain slid under her heart, making it ache. But pride refused to allow her to show it. “Sorry for what, Lucas?” she asked softly.
“For this…” He waved his arm in the air. “For everything.”
“You mean for making love with me?” she asked quietly, sitting up and dragging the afghan from the back of the couch to wrap around her. She was suddenly very cold.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” he snapped, reaching for his shirt off the pile and yanking it free. He was furious with himself. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
“It seems to me you weren’t the only one involved, Lucas. I let it happen, too.”
“Yeah, then we both should have known better,” he snapped, shoving his arms into his shirt and buttoning it. He was disgusted with himself, disgusted that he’d let his emotions overrule his common sense. He knew better, didn’t he? Knew that no good could come of this?
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lucas, but I’m not sorry this happened,” she said, blinking back the hot flash of tears that burned her eyes. “And I’m sorry that you are.”
“Katie, look—” he broke off when he looked at her, saw her stricken face, and cursed himself six ways to Sunday. He’d hurt her, damn it, hurt her and he’d never intended to. He’d been trying to protect her, to protect her and Rusty by keeping his emotional distance, but something had happened with her, something that had never happened with another woman. His emotions overruled and overpowered his common sense. And because of it, he’d ended up doing the one thing he never wanted to do—hurt Katie.
“Listen.” He dragged his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, not certain what to say or how to say it. But he was dangerously close to losing what little shred of control he had, and he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t tell her what was in his heart. It was too painful, for him, for her. It was better this way, better to keep his distance, to forget her, forget this ever happened.
But it had happened, giving him a glimpse of what life could be like if he ever allowed himself to feel again.
No! His mind snapped, and his heart began to ache, fresh and raw, in a way it hadn’t ached since those first early days when he’d been so lost, so shattered. How could he have put himself in this position again? To care about someone, knowing it would only make him vulnerable, knowing he’d barely survived the last time, knew he wouldn’t be able to do it a second time.
“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, but the truth of the matter is, Katie, this shouldn’t have happened, can’t ever happen again.” He paused, took a deep breath and tried to gather his scrambled thoughts. “I don’t have anything to offer you.” He spread his hands out helplessly. “Absolutely nothing. Not you, not Rusty—”
“Don’t bring my son into this,” she snapped, furious and hurt. “This is between you and me and has nothing to do with him. And if I recall, you’re the one who made the distinction that our professional lives never interfere or overlap into our personal ones. And you can’t get much more personal than this. But this is between you and me, Lucas, and has nothing to do with my son or your relationship with him.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to gather her composure. But his words had struck like a blow straight to her heart.
She loved him, and yes, now she could honestly admit it, at least to herself. She had love in her heart, and all he had was fear she wanted something from him.
“Katie, listen to me,” he all but demanded, raising his voice for the first time in memory. “I don’t have anything to offer you. Absolutely nothing. And I’m sorry for it but this doesn’t change a
nything,” he said, feeling like a heel and wishing he could take back everything he’d said. But he knew he couldn’t. This was best, for both of them. He couldn’t afford the feelings growing for her and Rusty. He simply couldn’t. They terrified him on a level he couldn’t even put a voice to.
“Lucas, just so we’re clear here, I don’t recall asking for or voicing any expectations to you.” She wished her voice was stronger, less strained and teary, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Maybe not yet,” he said, realizing he was just digging himself in deeper. “Just because we’ve made love, it doesn’t mean anything,” he stammered, cursing himself even as he said it. “It doesn’t change anything.”
Temper erupted, smothering over the hurt. “Doesn’t mean anything?” she repeated, her face and voice stricken. “I can’t believe you just said that.” How could he dismiss something that was so beautiful, so perfect? She had no idea.
She wanted to laugh it off, to show that she was a sophisticated, modern woman who could simply make love with a man and then pretend it didn’t matter, didn’t touch her heart and her soul, but she couldn’t simply because she wasn’t that kind of woman. She would never have made love with him if she hadn’t loved him. And to simply pretend otherwise would be a lie, something she wasn’t keen on doing, not now, not about this, and especially not with him.
She could never deny the importance of what had just happened between them, not even to ease his own conscience.
“I’m very sorry that this meant nothing to you, Lucas. I’m sorry that somehow I’ve frightened you into thinking that I wanted or expected something more than the beautiful evening we shared together tonight.” Sniffling, she wrapped the afghan tighter around her and stood up with the dignity of a queen. “I can assure you I want or expect nothing from you. Not now, not ever.” She was glad the afghan covered her legs so he wouldn’t see her knees were knocking—they wouldn’t have carried her now except for sheer pride and will. “What we shared tonight was beautiful and special, nothing more, nothing less, and if you regret it I’m sorry for you.”
“Katie, wait.” He reached for her, knowing he’d blown it, knowing he’d hurt her and not knowing how to fix it and yet still protect himself emotionally.
“Please.” She had to swallow the lump in her throat, and the pebble of pain in her heart seemed to have grown to a boulder. “Don’t touch me. Not right now,” she added more gently, shoving her hair back. “It’s late, Lucas. We’re both tired. Maybe it would be best if you just…left.”
“You want me to leave?” He wanted to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself at her mercy, to let her know this had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him. He couldn’t afford to feel anything for her, couldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, not ever again. But he knew she’d never understand, not unless he told her the whole truth, and he simply couldn’t and he knew it.
“Yes, please,” she managed quietly. He nodded.
“I’ll just…. uh…get my stuff together.”
“Do that,” she said, wrapping the afghan tighter around her. She clung to her dignity, even as he gathered his things and made his way toward the house to the front door.
“Look, Katie,” he said when he reached the door. “I really am sorry.”
She managed a weak smile. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Lucas. Truly.” The pain was back in his eyes, making her want to gather him in her arms and hold him until the pain went away. But she couldn’t and wouldn’t, knowing that he didn’t even trust her enough to know that after tonight she wouldn’t be wanting or expecting anything from him, except the one thing he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever offer her: his love.
Before she could protest, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Katie,” he said, before opening the door and stepping out.
“Good night, Lucas.” She waited, watching until he was down the stairs before slowing closing the door behind him. The sob she’d been holding back caught her off guard, and Katie leaned against the door as sobs shook her entire body. Unable to stop the tears or the cold that seemed to be seeping deeply into her right to the bones, she sank to the floor, wrapped the afghan tighter around her and let the sobs free.
Chapter Ten
Katie nursed her broken heart and threw herself into her work, but she didn’t hear from Lucas. He still saw Rusty almost every day, but he made sure he was gone by the time she got home. He was deliberately avoiding her and there was nothing she could do about it.
Not wanting her relationship, or lack of it, to interfere with her son’s relationship with Lucas, Katie tried to put on a brave face, but it was hard, especially when Rusty questioned her about Lucas not hanging around when she was around.
“Did you guys, like, have a fight or something?” Rusty asked on Monday evening, when Lucas hightailed it out of there a scant few minutes before Katie got home.
“A fight?” Katie repeated, carrying a bag of groceries into the kitchen and pretending to be intensely interested in unpacking it. “No, honey, we didn’t have a fight.” She shrugged, trying to hide the pain she’d been trying to conceal since Lucas left on Saturday. “But remember, Lucas is your buddy, it’s you he’s here to see, not me, remember?” She had to keep reminding herself of that.
“But…are you…like, mad at him or something?” Rusty asked worriedly.
“Honey.” Katie set down a can of coffee and turned to her son. “I know you’re worried and upset, but please don’t be. Lucas and I are still friends, it’s just we’re both very busy people.”
“You’re mad,” he confirmed with a scowl, making Katie lift his chin.
“Listen, sport, I’m simply busy,” she lied. She didn’t like lying to him, and in fact, never had, but this was personal, too personal, and she wasn’t ready to burden her son with her own stupidity. Besides, as long as Lucas didn’t let what happened between them affect his relationship with her son, she wanted to protect Rusty from the truth—if she could. “You know I have a lot of responsibility at the paper, and I really don’t have that much time to socialize. Besides,” she added, forcing a smile, “this has nothing to do with your relationship with Lucas. That’s still fine, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” he mumbled, looking totally dejected.
“Good. Then stop worrying and go get washed up for dinner.” As soon as Rusty left, she all but collapsed against the counter, blinking back tears. The strain of pretending everything was all right when her heart was breaking was simply getting to be too much for her.
But she had no choice, she wasn’t going to worry her son, not about this, ever. It was her own fault for allowing her feelings for Lucas to get out of control.
It had been her decision, now she had to face and accept the consequences. But it would help if she understood this, understood what had happened. Lucas was not a cold man, not at all, but something had happened after they’d made love that had made him seem cold and curt—what, she didn’t know. He was frightened, she’d realized belatedly, and she couldn’t seem to understand why.
It plagued her all night, making it difficult to concentrate on her work. When Rusty went to bed, she finally realized that she had no way of knowing what had happened since she really had no idea what had happened in Lucas’s past. And she had a feeling that was the key to what had frightened him—his past.
She’d promised him she wouldn’t pry or dig into his past, at least not in her capacity as the editor of the newspaper or in her role as a reporter. And Lucas was the one who asked her to make certain she kept the two distinctly separate.
And she had.
But this was different, this was personal. Very personal. It had nothing to do with her job at the paper and everything to do with her heart. She was in love with the man and she had a right to know what had happened in his past to make him so frightened of her and what they shared together.
She went to her computer, saved the file she’d been working on, closed it and then took a
deep breath. She stared at the blank screen for a moment before taking the plunge. She opened another file and typed in Lucas’s full name, and then she nervously waited, curious now to find out exactly what Lucas had been hiding from her all along.
By Thursday, Katie had learned that Lucas had been married, but was now widowed. Apparently a lot of his files and records, at least the official ones from his years on the Chicago police force—something else she hadn’t even known before—had been sealed at Lucas’s request. A judge had granted a court order to seal all Lucas’s personnel and personal records from the department, only leading Katie to wonder why. The more she found out, the more questions she had.
She didn’t have much time to work on this, but tried to do a little each night, and now had her notebook filled with information and some additional questions she was trying to find answers for.
By Thursday, she still hadn’t seen or heard from Lucas, but Rusty called her at the office to ask if he could go to Lucas’s lake cabin for the weekend.
“Yeah, Ma,” Rusty said excitedly. “Lucas says it’s gonna be an all-guy weekend. He invited Sean and his dad to go, and some other guys too. So can I go, huh, can I? We’re gonna fish and watch football and really pig out. You know, just do guy stuff.”
Not even the joyful exuberance in her son’s voice eased her aching heart. Lucas had chosen this weekend deliberately since he knew there was no way she’d be able to go, not when she had such a pressing deadline facing her.
Lucas was sending her a message, loud and clear, that he’d continue to see Rusty, but he didn’t want to see her. It hurt, more than she believed possible, but she’d known better than to allow herself to let her feelings for Lucas get out of hand. And she let it happen anyway and had no one to blame but herself.
“Of course you can go, sweetheart,” she said to Rusty, closing her eyes against the pain and trying to make her voice cheerful.
About the Boy Page 17
