In His Protective Custody

by Marie Ferrarella

  She took hold of his other arm, ready to turn him around. “Why don’t we go back to the hospital and I’ll just—”

  He held his ground. “That’s all right. It’s not broken. I’m just going to have one hell of a black-and-blue mark on it for a while.” He shrugged, then winced before the motion was complete. “Or longer,” he added.

  “Vitamin C,” she said quickly, interjecting her words into his before he had a chance to finish. He raised an eyebrow and she explained, “If you take a lot of vitamin C over the course of the day, it helps keep the bruising to a minimum.”

  He supposed that made sense—except for the doling out part. “Why can’t I just take whatever the dose is all at once and be done with it?”

  “Because your body just takes what it needs and lets the rest just pass right through.” What if she hadn’t curtailed her swing at the last minute? What if she’d followed through and hit his head? He’d be lying at her feet, unconscious or much worse. The thought shook her up. “Look, if you won’t go to the hospital, why don’t you come home with me and let me take a look at it? I can at least make the swelling go down.”

  That coincided with his original suggestion to hang around her for a while to make sure that McBride didn’t show up and hurt her.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he agreed and, by the expression on his face, Alyx saw that she had played right into his hands.

  But she couldn’t very well rescind the offer now that she’d extended it. Besides, she had to admit that having someone with her did make her feel better. Coming home to an empty apartment wasn’t exactly appealing right now.

  “Where’re you parked?” he asked. When she pointed out the spot, he nodded. “You get in your car and stay right there. I’ll just get mine and follow you to your place.”

  “Can you drive?” she asked, concerned. She nodded at his arm.

  “I’ve driven with a bullet hole in my arm. I can drive,” he assured her. Zane began walking away, then stopped abruptly. He’d forgotten to give her one vital piece of information. “By the way, it’s a Honda Accord.”

  Alyx didn’t understand. She shook her head. “What is?”

  “My car.” And then the corners of Zane’s mouth curved ever so slightly. He’d guessed right. From her expression, he could tell that she’d assumed he was driving the black and white. “They won’t let me take the squad car home.”

  “Right. Of course they wouldn’t.” Feeling a little foolish, Alyx turned on her heel and hurried off to her car. Unlocking it, she got in to wait for his return.

  She still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, but that, she was now ready to admit, was just her paranoia.

  God, how could he have gotten even better looking since the last time? Was it even humanly possible?

  The moment they’d walked through her doorway and shut the door behind them, Alyx had turned around and insisted that he remove his shirt.

  “There’s no reason for you to play doctor, Doc. It’s just a welt at best.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Now take off your shirt,” she’d told him.

  When he began to unbutton his shirt, she’d had to admit to herself that her stomach had tightened and her body temperature had once again gone up. What was the effect this man had over her?

  His upper torso was as perfect as any she had ever seen. More. The only thing that kept it from being beyond perfection was that he had a total of three scars. One on his chest, one on his shoulder and the last on his back. But with him, it only added to the image, not detracted from it.

  Even the red welt she’d awarded him didn’t take away from the aura he created.

  She made him wait while she hurried off to the bathroom to fetch a few things from the medicine cabinet. When she returned, she was mixing a pale pink paste in what looked like a tea cup.

  “You have no idea how close you came to my hitting your head,” she told him, contrition echoing in every syllable. “I pulled my swing at the last minute when I saw that it was you.”

  “Good thing they have got decent lighting in the garage,” he cracked dryly, watching her stir the concoction.

  The small sound of dismay escaped her lips as she looked at the red, angry welt on his shoulder. If possible, it looked even worse now than it had when she’d made him take his shirt off.

  “I am so, so sorry,” she told him, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  He had his answer all ready for her. “Let me play bodyguard for a few days when I’m off duty and we’ll call it even.”

  She didn’t see how that absolved her, but she wasn’t about to argue. “You should have told me that you were going to shadow me.”

  “I did,” he reminded her, “And you vetoed it. I rely a lot on gut instincts, and mine told me you needed protecting.” He glanced at the welt and a smile played on his lips. “My gut instincts aren’t always a hundred percent right.”

  She laughed then and began to apply the salve to his arm with slow, careful strokes. “I could have told you that.”

  The salve felt cool against his skin. Cool and oddly soothing. He raised his eyes to her face. “That feels good. What is it?”

  “Just something I came up with,” she said, shrugging off any further explanation. She was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have wanted to know what was really in the mixture. “Sometimes the homemade remedies are the best,” she told him. Putting down the cup, she began to work the salve into his skin, her long fingers gliding along his shoulder in small, even strokes.

  She became aware of every breath he took as she worked.

  “Smells good,” he told her, raising his eyes to her face.

  Damn, there went her heartbeat again, locking into double-time. “Just a little vanilla added to cover up the actual—”

  “I meant you,” he said. His voice was low, his words all but pulsating on her skin. His eyes lingered on hers. “You smell nice. Like the way home should,” he heard himself say and wondered where in God’s name that had come from. Home for him had become more of an idea, a concept, not a place. What was he doing, talking about this to her? To anyone?

  He sat on a stool while she worked over the area between his shoulder and biceps. Her face, she realized too late, was barely inches away from his, so close she could feel his breath travel along her skin.

  So close that, she was certain, he could feel hers along his.

  Her pulse quickened even more. She didn’t know why the thought of their breaths touching one another aroused her, but it did.

  So much so that her heart suddenly hammered harder now than in the parking structure when she thought she was in danger. Maybe this was a kind of danger, too. A different kind. One where, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily lose her footing. Not to mention other things.

  Her heart wasn’t letting up. It now pounded so hard she was afraid it might come right out of her chest and fall at his feet like an offering.

  He turned a fraction of an inch on the stool, coming even closer to her, closer than a prayer at midnight.

  Her scalp tingled in anticipation as Zane threaded his fingers through her hair, gently framing her face.

  “What…what are you doing?” she asked, her mouth so dry she was amazed that the words even emerged.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “I’m better at showing than explaining.”

  And then the next moment, he was doing just that. Showing her. Showing Alyx just what being so close to her had done to him. It had made her completely and utterly impossible for him to resist. He’d struggled with the onslaught of urges that marched through him. He’d struggled with them for as long as he could, but then he’d seen the flash of desire in her eyes and known that he was bound to let this happen.

  To kiss her again.

  Not just to kiss her, but take it as far as she would allow. Everything inside of him demanded it. Begged for it.

  And made him feel that his drawing ev
en a breath tomorrow hinged on if he could have her tonight.

  If she turned him down tonight, he would back away no matter how great the need. But he was fairly certain that in doing so, in keeping to his code, he would self-destruct. Wanting her as much as he did right now would be his undoing because, with nothing to feed on, the hunger would turn on him and, within a very short time, completely destroy him.

  But she didn’t turn him down.

  And everything within him rejoiced.

  Chapter 12

  O ver and over again, his mouth slanted over Alyx’s, kissing her, drawing sustenance from her.

  The more he kissed her, the more he wanted to kiss her.

  To touch her.

  To have her.

  It was like a fever in the blood that he was powerless to stop.

  Zane realized that he wasn’t the master of this situation. She was. He found himself completely overwhelmed with the taste, the feel, the very scent of her. It permeated all his senses until only she remained in his world—a frightening concept if he allowed himself to think about it.

  So he didn’t.

  He stopped thinking at all.

  His lips still sealed to hers, Zane pulled her onto his lap, his arms locking around her despite the salvo of pain that shot through the shoulder she had smashed the umbrella against. The pain was a small price to pay for having her so near now.

  But even as he kissed Alyx, from somewhere deep within the shadows of his soul, a sliver of common sense burrowed its way to the surface through the fire and the passion. He was concerned about her safety. If he went on to make love with her, the way he ached to, she might think that his concern was all a ruse just to get to this point, to make love with her. Then, once things calmed down, she would send him away,

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  So, with a silent, anguished cry of deprivation that echoed to the depths of his soul, Zane forced himself to stop kissing her and draw his head back. It was excruciatingly hard.

  Stunned, caught off guard and dealing with a monumental feeling of bereavement, Alyx blinked. She struggled to erase the fog enshrouding her brain.

  Why?

  “Is something wrong?” she asked in a low, hoarse voice overflowing with emotion.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” In his opinion, no moment had been more perfect, which, he had to admit, scared him. Perfection didn’t exist in the real world.

  “Then why did you suddenly stop?” she asked.

  He didn’t know just how long he could remain noble if she pushed. “I didn’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

  The quizzical look did not leave her eyes. “About what?”

  All right, so she needed it spelled out for her. He could do that—as long as he didn’t look into her eyes. If he did, he’d be trapped there, a willing prisoner. “I didn’t want you thinking that I’d said what I had about protecting you just to get you into bed.”

  Alyx smiled then, a soft, radiant smile that damn near punched him in the gut. He could hardly catch his breath.

  The fact that he was concerned about what she thought touched her. Her smile widened as she remained on his lap. “Don’t worry, Zane, I don’t see you as being that devious.”

  He frowned slightly, a furrow forming between his eyebrows. “Was that an insult?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “No, that was a compliment about your honesty. You’re not the type to play games. You don’t make up lies just to get what you want. That’s not how you think,” she told him with a certainty that amazed him. “That’s what makes this all so right. You won’t say things to string me along. It’s a matter of what I see is what I get,” she told him in a barely audible voice, her eyes on his.

  She seemed to peer into his soul. Suddenly, Zane felt like the one being seduced. And he had to admit, he rather enjoyed that.

  Pulling Alyx closer to him, he was about to kiss her again. But instead, he found himself kissing her raised fingers, which she held up between his lips and hers. It was his turn to be puzzled.

  “I don’t want you hurting your shoulder,” she explained.

  “Don’t worry, my shoulder has very little to do with this,” he assured her.

  Before Alyx could say anything else, his lips were on hers again, sealing in her words. At the same time, the very feel of his lips on hers released all her passions and urges.

  In less than a moment, the pent-up feelings she had exploded, bathing the world around her with breathtaking colors. Even before they went any further, before his lips left hers to explore the rest of her, Alyx knew in her heart that she had never experienced this before.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Rising from the stool, he held her against him, thrilling at the outline of her body melding into his. Bending into him as if the two of them were already one. Eagerness reared within him, desperate to make her his, to bring the softly whispered promise echoing in his head like a formless shadow into fruition.

  With his lips still sealed to hers, Zane slowly ran his hands up and down along her torso, his fingers and palms worshiping all the tempting curves that comprised her body.

  He tasted rather than heard the moan that escaped her lips and it fanned the flames of his excitement to the point that it became very, very hard to rein himself in, to go slow instead of steamroll ahead.

  But he managed.

  Managed because this was their first time and it would leave a lasting impression on her. He wanted Alyx to look back on this moment with fondness. And if this was their only time together—and who knew what tomorrow would bring—then Zane wanted it to really matter.

  To be the best that he could give her.

  Trying to school himself to go slow, he still wound up peeling away her clothes to the same tempo that she stripped away his. Her pullover electric-blue top hit the floor a beat before his pullover gray polo suffered the same fate.

  A flurry of fabric showered down on the variegated gray rug beneath their feet until, just like that, there were no physical barriers left. Mental barriers went next, quickly vanquished in the same manner as needs trumped fears.

  His hands caressed her, his fingertips sculpting her form and making love to every inch of her a beat after his eyes did.

  Zane drew her down onto the sofa, unable to go any further. His desires had gotten the better of him, demanding their due.

  He bestowed his own form of worship on her, using his lips, his teeth, his tongue to sample, to anoint and then, just as quickly, to completely possess every single inch of her warm, pliant flesh.

  She’d fantasized about this but had never truly believed that it could be like this. That lovemaking could be so fiery, so prolonged, so exquisite. To her, always before, the act had disappointed her.

  But not this time.

  Zane brought every single fiber of her to life. Not only to life, but his very artful touch made parts of her vibrate so hard she didn’t think they would ever settle down again. She didn’t want them to.

  His questing mouth did unbelievable things. Made her feel the way she had always dreamed. The explosions were wondrous.

  Alyx arched and bucked, as one climax after another flowered into a shower of stars and fireworks to the point that she was soon completely breathless and exhausted.

  Who knew it could be like this? That it wasn’t just a single, swift moment in time, but what felt like an eternity?

  If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up again.

  And then, she was aware of Zane’s body slowly sliding up along hers. Aware of her legs being gently urged apart with his knee. It suddenly registered that her eyes were shut. Forcing them open, she found herself looking into his face.

  A face that took her breath away all over again—because there was an expression of tenderness she had never witnessed before. It transformed the hard, rigid lines of Zane’s solemn face, making him look almost boyish.

  It was probably her imagination, but she still clung to it. Clung to th
e impression it cast.

  Her heart swelled. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said that was the moment that she fell in love with him.

  Zane laced his fingers through hers, forming a union a heartbeat before he joined her in the ultimate one. Anticipation rushing in her veins, Alyx raised her hips to him in a silent invitation.

  And then he entered her.

  The final dance began as her hips sealed to his and the ensuing rhythm seized them both.

  The tempo went faster and faster until, several heartbeats later, his arms tightening around her, they reached the apex together.

  His heart slammed against hers. She could feel her own mimicking its accelerated tempo. It heightened the experience even more. She found herself holding on to him for dear life, bracing herself for the spiraling descent that had to follow even as she fervently prayed that it wouldn’t.

  Alyx held her breath, as if that could somehow hold the final moments in abeyance a second longer.

  But she knew it couldn’t.

  Alyx felt Zane relax against her. His embrace loosened, and a sadness began to envelop her.

  The next second, rather than retreating into his own world the way she fully expected him to, Zane raised himself up on his elbows to look down into her face.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  Concern. He was showing concern. After the fact, when he had nothing to gain.

  She liked that.

  Her mouth curved as humor filled her eyes. “I’ll let you know when I can feel my body again. How’s your shoulder?” Her eyes shifted toward that part of his anatomy, the doctor pushing aside the lover.

  “What shoulder?”

  She laughed at that and the sound rippled between them like a feathery tickle, touching them both.

  Unable to help himself, Zane stole a kiss from her as if they hadn’t just made love, but were two innocents on the brink of discovering the soft, fresh petals of first love.

  About to laugh again, the sound faded away in her throat as she looked up at Zane and saw that his expression had turned serious again. At the same moment, she became aware of the growing hardness of his body as it continued to press against hers.