by Virna DePaul
“No, so I can confirm whether Linda said his name as an identification or as a warning.”
“A warning?” she parroted. Confusion warred with mistrust. “Why would Linda—?”
“You tell me, Mattie.”
She opened her mouth but she didn’t know what he was talking about. Was he saying Linda had wanted to warn Tony that he was in danger, or that she’d wanted to warn others about Tony? Did it really matter? Either way, all roads would lead back to the one mistake Tony was struggling so hard to overcome. She wasn’t saying anything that might ruin that for him.
Despite his drug history, Tony had managed to avoid the law. He’d never been arrested. Never even been questioned. For all she knew, Dominic had mentioned a warning for the sole purpose of throwing her off and making her talk.
At her stubborn silence, Dominic let out an impatient breath. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about him? We have much more important things to talk about anyway. Why don’t you tell me about Jordan?”
Apparently, hostile protectiveness was becoming a natural response for her. She thrust out her chin and practically dared him to push her further. “Why?”
“Because you freak out whenever I mention her,” he said quietly.
She had to force herself not to wilt. “I don’t freak out, but you seem to mention her a lot. Why are you so curious about her?”
“Because she’s yours. And I wish she could have been ours.”
Shock slammed into her like a knockout punch. For a moment, she could only stare at him while trying to keep her expression clear of longing. Then guilt. Then anger. The anger wasn’t easy to suppress. How dare he say that to her? When Jordan had spent most of her life without a father—the father that would have been hers if only Dom had loved Mattie enough to stay with her.
But he hadn’t.
He’d loved the idea of being a cop more than he’d loved her. If he’d ever loved her at all.
“You made your choice a long time ago, Dom. Leave me and my daughter alone. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” he said after several tense minutes had passed. “I know I shouldn’t have said that. I guess I never thought you could hate me so much that you couldn’t even tell me about your daughter.”
His quiet words snuffed the anger out of her. She saw the regret on his face. Imagined that regret would magnify a thousand fold if he knew the truth. But she had no intention of telling him the truth. Ever. Dom was an upstanding public servant who hadn’t even known his child existed. He could make a claim that would be hard for any judge to ignore.
She wasn’t taking that chance.
Still, she thought. What harm would it do to tell him a little about Jordan?
He reached to shift the truck into Drive, but froze when Mattie began talking. “Jordan’s innocent, even for her age. She sees only the goodness in people and she’s stunned when anyone hurts another, especially when kids tease each other or are mean to animals.”
“How old is she?”
She almost panicked, but managed to say, “She’s nine. John and I… Well, part of the reason we got married so quickly after you and I—I mean, he and I… I got pregnant.” There. It was the truth, even if it was designed to misdirect him.
His mouth twisted. “And we were always so careful about using protection.”
She turned and stared straight ahead, wondering if she was imagining the hurt in his voice. Yes, they’d always used protection, but her body had found a way to work around that.
He sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make that sound like an accusation. So Jordan… You were saying she’s sensitive?”
Mattie hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Extremely so. But she’s not shy or quiet either. She’s loud—far louder than most of her classmates—and adventurous. Again, more than other girls her age. She’s why I tried that rock-climbing class, and she wants to kayak next.”
“But? Because I can hear the but in your voice.” Carefully, he pulled back on the road.
“But—I—I’m still scared of the water. I never learned to swim.”
“I remember that.”
“I’ve taken lessons time and again. My body’s just not made for swimming.”
“Maybe it’s made for other things.”
The innuendo, said so calmly, caused the heat, which had been set to simmer ever since he’d kissed her, to flame wildly. “Uh, I—”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
Mattie looked out the passenger window. As Dominic turned into her neighborhood, she remembered the day she and John had moved into the little house she loved. She’d thought she’d found it then—a man in uniform who loved his job but loved her more. Loved her enough to give her the security and stability she and her little girl needed. Instead, he’d thrown it all away for thrills.
Dom pulled up to the curb outside her house and stopped. She reached for the handle of the door, but then hesitated. She stared at her little house, with all the windows dark, and thought how lonely it looked without Jordan’s presence to light it up. Her daughter was quickly growing up and would eventually be moving out on her own. And then what would Mattie have waiting at home for her? An empty house, as empty as she felt right at that moment.
Empty. Aching. Lonely.
And damn it, she didn’t want to be empty any longer. She wanted to be filled up. Just for a little while, she wanted to forget the past few days and just feel again.
She fell back against her seat, closed her eyes, and dropped her head back. Minutes passed and the whole time she felt the heavy caress of Dom’s gaze. “I don’t want to go inside,” she whispered. Turning her head, she opened her eyes and saw desire tighten his features. “Isn’t that crazy? I’ve done nothing but push you away since you came back into my life and now, after one lousy dinner and ride home, despite the horrible things that have happened tonight, I don’t want to leave you. How can you have such power over me, Dom?”
Reaching out, he cupped her face. “I don’t know, but you’ve got the same hold on me, Mattie. I swear.”
“I can’t talk about Tony. I won’t—”
Catching her in his arms, he pulled her close, rested his chin on the top of her head, and wrapped his arms around her. “Then don’t. Not tonight. Tonight, let me just be with you. Let someone—let me—take care of you for once, Mattie.”
She closed her eyes and breathed him in. Felt herself relax, as if his nearness was a drug, wiping away all her fears and doubts. After a moment, she pulled away from him. “Come in.” She tried to open the door, but he stayed her with a hand on her arm.
“Wait.” He looked torn, even as desire made his cheeks flush and his nostrils flare. “No misunderstandings, Mattie. First I want you to tell me exactly what you want.”
She frowned. “You—you know what I want.”
He shook his head and soothed a hand over her shoulder in a calming motion. “Your friend’s been hurt. You’re worried about your brother. I know you want comfort, but we don’t need to have sex for me to give you that. If you want me to hold you, I’ll hold you, nothing else. But if you want more, I need to know it’s because you want me, me inside you, and not just anyone would do.”
“That’s crazy!” She made a frustrated noise deep in her throat and stared out the window again. “Why does it matter, anyway? I bet you didn’t ask that girl who left naked pictures for you whether she wanted you or just physical release, now did you?”
He sighed and turned her face back toward him. “It didn’t matter with her. It does with you.”
She tried to turn away, but he only held her firmer. “I’m not saying it has to mean more than tonight. We have a hell of a past, one too complicated for talk of the future right now. But I need to know it’s me you want.”
When she didn’t respond, he released her and sat back. Somehow, what he was asking seemed more than she could give and she felt indecision creeping in.
“You know,” he said, “those naked
pictures were a turn-on because of the sentiment behind them, not just because they showed some T and A.”
The statement shocked her out of her thoughts. “What sentiment?” she snorted. “The ‘I’m yours, you can do anything you want to me, just do me now’ sentiment?”
“Exactly.”
She laughed uncomfortably. “At least you’re honest. So what’s your point? Men like total subjugation in a woman? Is that what you’re asking for?”
“Not subjugation. Total passion. Total focus. Total commitment. That woman wanted me and she wanted me so bad that she was willing to put herself on the line to get me. That’s what really turns a man on. Not a woman with the best technique or the most moves, but the woman who’s so overcome by passion, her passion, that she’ll forget about her inhibitions. Screw propriety. Screw what other people think. She wants him and she’s going to take him. You gave me that once, Mattie, and I want it again. Despite our past. Despite the bad timing. I need you to say it and mean it.”
“You’re twisted,” she breathed.
“Am I? Tell me the truth. It wouldn’t turn you on—to drive me crazy with lust, to know that I ache for you, long for your touch, dream about your body under mine, to the point that all I can think, speak, or breathe is you? That I would do anything to have you? That with one word, you can heighten my suffering or end it simply by teasing me or giving me everything I’ve ever wanted? Because that’s how it is. How it’s always been with you, Mattie. I look at you and I want you.”
She was breathing hard, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before. Opening her mouth, she tried to speak but couldn’t. Instead, she opened the door, slipped out, and bent down to meet his eyes.
“I want to have sex with you,” she said, her voice measured. “You, Dom, and no one else. So, please, come in.”
She saw the flash of surprise on his face, but didn’t wait to see more. Slamming the truck door shut, she moved up the walk, her breaths escalating when she heard him get out of the truck and follow her.
What was she doing? Was she crazy? The man was Jordan’s father. He had reason to believe Tony had attacked Linda. And he’d hurt her. God, he’d hurt her. But despite all that, she still wanted him to stay. She—
She gasped when he caught her arm.
Praying he wasn’t dreaming, Dom bent and gave Mattie the briefest of kisses before pulling back. He leaned in for more less than two seconds later, rubbing their mouths together and licking at the seam of her lips in a silent plea for entry. She gasped and opened her mouth, inviting him in. He took the invitation for what it was. Something unexpected and precious.
Fighting for control, he forced himself to be gentle. To go slow. He rubbed his tongue against hers, encouraging her to do the same. She tasted like brandied apricots, sweet but with a definite kick, and he opened his mouth wider, loosening his control by degrees as she followed his lead. Soon, their combined breaths echoed around them and he pulled back. For a moment, her mouth blindly sought his until she blinked her eyes rapidly and stepped back.
Turning towards the door, she shakily inserted the key while he caressed her shoulders and back, unable to keep his hands off her. Which is why he felt her stiffen. She stared at her hand poised in front of the lock.
“Mattie, what is it?”
She released the key and stumbled back, bumping into him. “I locked it. I know I did. But it’s already unlocked.”
Taking in her words along with the paleness of her complexion, Dom immediately put himself in front of her. “Go next door and call 911.”
“What are you doing?” she hissed even as she clung to his arm and pulled him back. “How do you know someone’s not inside?”
“I’m a cop, Mattie. If someone’s inside, I’ll deal with it. Now go.”
She stared at him with true fear in her eyes, but then she turned and ran away. He waited until she was out of sight before he drew his gun from his holster and carefully pushed her front door open.
The entry was dark. Although he felt along the wall for a light switch, there wasn’t one. Cursing, he realized that because the house was older, the rooms were probably illuminated by lamps rather than overhead lighting. Sure enough, a small fussy lamp with a green, beaded shade sat on the entry table.
The end of the foyer led into some kind of family room/kitchen combination, with another open doorway to the right. Keeping his back to the wall, he moved silently forward, keeping his gun steady. Cautiously, he searched the shadows for movement but there was none.
Room by room, he searched the house, but if anyone had been there, they’d gone. The place hadn’t been ransacked, but he couldn’t know if anything was missing until Mattie came back. Snatching the kitchen phone from its receiver, he called dispatch and confirmed that officers were on their way. He hung up, then headed toward the front door to wait for Mattie. The small foyer table was piled high with files and papers, and, as he passed it, he accidentally knocked some papers and a picture frame over. He straightened the picture frame. When he saw the picture it contained, his mind went numb.
Despite the possible threat of Mattie’s intruders returning, shock got the better of him. Knees wobbling, he felt so dizzy he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on the table.
Jordan Nolan had dark curly hair just like Mattie, but she had blue eyes. A bright blue that could have rivaled his. And where Mattie’s face was rounded, Jordan’s was oval, with high angular cheekbones and a slight cleft chin. All in all, except for her hair, Jordan Nolan looked just like her father.
She looked like him.
The door creaked open and Dom whirled around, his gun up and ready.
Mattie.
She was staring at him, her hand covering her mouth and tears shining in her eyes. Immediately lowering his gun, he vaguely thought that she shouldn’t be here. That she should have waited for the police to arrive before entering the house. But nothing seemed to matter at the moment but getting her to admit what he knew to be true.
“Mattie?” His voice trembled. “Mattie, is she mine?”
“No.” She shook her head violently. “She’s mine, Dominic. Just mine.”
One hand still gripping the gun, he reached out with his free hand to take her arm. Ever aware of his greater strength, he forced himself to be gentle despite the riotous emotions swirling inside him. “Damn you, don’t play games now. Not now. Her eyes…I know she’s mine, but I assumed—you let me assume—she was conceived after I left.”
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “That’s right, Dom, you left. You didn’t want anything to do with me.”
He dropped his hand. He wanted to deny her accusation, but knew he couldn’t. “If I’d known—”
“What? You would have stayed? I suspected as much, but no thank you.”
Nine years. He’d lost nine years with Mattie and his little girl, who’d been claimed by someone else.
“Think about it, Dom. Your priority was to be a cop, regardless of my concerns. I didn’t want a man tied to me because of a baby. If you stayed out of obligation, you really would have ended up hating me.”
He shook his head, denying her words. Obligation? More like an inescapable reason to ignore his fears. To take the risk he’d been too much of a coward to take. But in a way, she’d been a coward, too. She’d taken the choice away from him. “You should have told me. You should have—”
They heard the sirens just before the police cars pulled up in front of the house. Dominic pulled out his badge to show the responding officers, but not before he turned to Mattie. Gripping her chin, he bent down to give her a quick, hard kiss. The anger was there, but crowded along with it was possessiveness. Even joy. He just didn’t know what to do with either one. With his face close to hers, he warned, “She’s mine. And this isn’t over, Mattie. Not by a long shot.”
Chapter 12
Dom wasn’t angry, he was royally pissed. Someone was playing with Mattie, rifling through her purse, coming into her home
, obviously trying to scare her. But for what purpose? And would the threats continue until they finally became more? Until danger touched Mattie and her daughter?
Their little girl, he reminded himself, still trying to accept it.
He looked at Mattie, who was speaking to the responding officers. She was pale, her features pinched and anxious, and she deliberately avoided looking at him. Although she hadn’t admitted Jordan was his, he didn’t doubt it nor did he doubt that as soon as the police left, they were going to have it out. Anticipating that conversation filled him with both satisfaction and dread. He knew he’d ultimately get the truth out of her, but with it he’d also get the fury and sadness that had been building in the past ten years.
Restlessly, he moved through her house, taking in the cheery but functional furniture. Most of all, he examined the pictures in frames and on the walls. Pictures of his little girl. All the moments in time that he’d missed and could never get back. Her baby phase when she was all fleshy rolls and gummy smiles. Her sulky toddler phase, with her hair in pigtails and gaps between her teeth. Jordan in her peewee softball uniform. Dressed in a pink tutu. At the zoo. Picture after picture of her with Mattie and with other men. A man he knew had to be her brother, Tony. And another man whose blue uniform proclaimed him to be the infamous John Nolan.
The picture that floored him, however, was a black-and-white Mattie had hung on a wall between the living room and her kitchen. It was a five-by-seven of her in full pregnancy, about ready to pop. It was Mattie just months after he’d left her, beaming at the camera. While he couldn’t see the man who stood out of the camera’s range, the man’s hand rested protectively on Mattie’s bulging belly.
Mine, he thought. That should have been my hand. On my baby. On my Mattie.
But she’d kept it all from him. Her pregnancy. His daughter’s birth.
