by Lisa Childs
“You getting to me,” he replied. And he stepped closer to her, his chest nearly brushing against her breasts.
Because of the heat and her temperamental air conditioner, she wore a light nightgown with thin spaghetti straps. The material was so thin that she could feel the heat of his body through it, and her nipples tightened and pushed against it.
Blake lifted his hand to her face. As he cupped her cheek in his palm, he ran his thumb across her mouth. “You are so beautiful...”
Her lips tingled from the contact with his skin. Her breath stuck in her throat. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to touch her.
She glanced at the door and tilted her head to listen intently. Was anyone going to interrupt this time?
Nothing moved. There was no sound but the pounding of her own heart.
Then he slid his thumb from her lip and leaned forward—pressing his mouth against hers. The kiss was gentle at first then deepened with his groan. She delved into his hair with her fingers, clutching his head to hers as their mouths mated. Their lips nibbled at each other’s, clinging in hungry kisses.
She didn’t want to stop—knew they couldn’t stop—even if the killer showed up at the door again. So she grasped his shirt and walked backward, tugging him along with her toward her bedroom. They didn’t stop kissing, didn’t even look to see where they were going. But they made it through the door and to the bed. When her legs hit the edge of the mattress, she tumbled down onto it, and Blake tumbled with her, sprawled across her.
She giggled. And he chuckled. Then he moved his weight off her, and she murmured a protest as she reached for him. She caught the waistband of his jeans. They were buttoned now, unlike when she’d shown up at the hotel and they’d been riding low on his lean hips. And he’d worn no shirt. He’d looked so damn sexy. Then.
And now.
His dark blond hair was tousled, and his green eyes were dark with desire as he stared down at her.
She unbuttoned his jeans and reached for his zipper. But he caught her hand in his and held it. His chest expanded with his sharp pants for air.
“You’re driving me crazy...” he murmured.
“I haven’t done anything...” Yet. But she intended to make love to him—like they had that night—like they were the only two people in the world. She knew they weren’t, but she needed this moment—needed to escape from all the fear and stress overwhelming her.
Then he overwhelmed her—with his touch, his kisses...
As he pressed his mouth to hers, he trailed his fingertips down her shoulders, pushing the straps and the front of her nightgown down. Then he traced her collarbone before moving his hands to the swell of her breasts, cupping them in his hands and brushing his thumbs across the nipples.
She squirmed and moaned as heat streaked through her, from her breasts to her core. She pressed her legs together as she began to throb inside—where she wanted him to be.
With his hands busy on her body, she was able to tug down his zipper and free him. Her fingers slid over the erection straining against his knit boxers.
He groaned and pressed against her hand. And she knew he needed her as much as she needed him. But he pulled away from her to move down her body. He kissed her shoulder and the swell of her breast before closing his lips around one of her nipples. He tugged gently on it, and she arched off the bed.
“Blake!” she called as pleasure coursed through her. It wasn’t enough, though. She was still full of tension, still full of desire and need.
She pulled on his shirt, dragging it up and over his head. He let her pull it off. But he didn’t move back up. Instead he moved lower, and as he did, he slipped off her nightgown and tossed it onto the floor. Then he made love to her with his mouth.
She cried out as pleasure overwhelmed her. But still it wasn’t enough...
When had she gotten so damn greedy?
Maybe it was because she knew that he could give her more pleasure than even that, than anyone else ever could...
She clutched at his bare shoulders, trying to pull him up. Instead, he got off the bed entirely.
Was he leaving her?
Was that all he intended to do? Give her pleasure yet take none for himself?
But he’d only stood to push off his jeans and boxers. Then he pulled a condom from a pocket of his jeans and rolled it over his shaft. He joined her on the bed, but he didn’t immediately join their bodies. Instead he held his weight off her, their naked bodies just brushing against each other, as he kissed her. Tenderly...
Almost reverently...
Then the passion between them ignited, burning so hot that Juliette’s skin heated. She reached up and locked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him down on top of her.
And finally he joined their bodies, easing inside her. She shifted and arched, taking him deeper. Then he began to move, and she bit her lip as the tension and the pleasure intensified. Each thrust brought her closer and closer to the edge of madness. She clutched harder at his back, his muscles rippling beneath her fingers.
She met each thrust, rising up from the mattress—pushing her hips against him. The tension spiraled inside her—out of control—until it finally broke. Her body shuddered, her inner muscles clenching and rippling as the orgasm overwhelmed her. She screamed his name.
Then he tensed and uttered a deep, almost guttural groan of pleasure. He leaned his head down, against her shoulder, as he panted for breath.
She was panting, too. She’d never felt anything as powerful—not even with him.
Finally he moved again, trying to ease out of her. But she clutched him, not wanting him to pull away. He felt so good—so perfect—inside her. As if they’d been made for each other...
But they had no more in common now than they’d had five years ago, except for their daughter. Pandora was the only bond they shared. Their lives were too different, were even in different countries.
She had to remind herself of that—he was only home for a visit. He wasn’t staying. So she could not get attached—or let Pandora get too attached—because they would both wind up with their hearts broken.
* * *
Blake opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again as the sunlight pouring through Juliette’s bedroom window blinded him. He reached across the tangled sheets, looking for her, but the sheets were empty and probably warm only from the sunlight streaming through that window.
How long had she been gone?
How long had he been asleep?
He opened his eyes again, squinting, and peered at the clock beside the bed. It was nearly noon. All those sleepless nights must have finally caught up with him.
But where was Juliette?
He listened but heard no movement inside the house—just the sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window. She was gone.
To work, probably.
At least the bodyguards he’d hired and some of her coworkers would be following her—because Blake was making a piss-poor protector.
But then, he wasn’t a bodyguard. He was a businessman. He’d proved that last night. While he’d saved her from the killer pushing her down the stairs, he hadn’t been able to catch the guy.
Neither had the bodyguards or the police officers, though. So he probably wouldn’t have felt too bad about his efforts to protect her—if Juliette hadn’t managed to sneak away from him while they’d been sleeping in the same bed. He needed to be more alert to keep her safe.
Maybe she hadn’t slept, though. He couldn’t remember much after they’d made love...the third time...
They hadn’t been able to get enough of each other—just like that night nearly five years ago. That night had had a once-in-a-lifetime feel to it, though—like it was just a stolen moment they’d needed to make the most of. Blake had already known then that he was going to leave Red
Ridge. That the only way he could truly make it on his own was if he was somewhere that being a Colton didn’t matter.
Maybe that was why he hadn’t noticed her in her maid’s uniform. He hadn’t wanted to see her—hadn’t wanted to have to say goodbye.
Was that why Juliette had slipped away from him today—just as she had after that night so long ago? She didn’t want to say goodbye?
He could understand that five years ago. She’d been all hung up on the fact that she was a maid and he was the son of a millionaire. She’d thought they had nothing in common. And they hadn’t.
They still didn’t. Following her around the past few days had proved that to Blake. He was nowhere near as tough and brave as she was. He had no interest in risking his life day after day to serve and protect Red Ridge.
And Juliette was risking her life even more because there was a man on the loose determined to kill her. She should have woken him up—should have said goodbye—because Blake worried that she might not have the chance if the killer got her before he saw her again.
Chapter 14
Sometimes Juliette wondered which of them was the handler. She or Sasha?
The beagle was the one leading her around the bus terminal. After another sleepless night, Juliette was too distracted to focus on the job. It might not have been lack of sleep that was distracting her, though, but thoughts of what she’d done with Blake Colton.
What the hell had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking. She’d just been feeling—so much passion for him. But if it had only been desire, she might not have been worried. Her feelings for Blake went deeper than lust, though.
Gratitude...
Not just for saving her life the night before but for giving her Pandora, as well. Their daughter was the greatest gift Juliette had ever received. At the time she’d learned she was pregnant, she’d been scared and overwhelmed.
But now...
She couldn’t imagine her life without her child in it. Couldn’t imagine not having Pandora to hold. Or seeing her smile.
Just as Mama had said, there was a reason for everything. Pandora was the reason for everything Juliette did now.
She needed to find this killer and put him in jail. She needed her child and her life back. That life hadn’t included Blake.
Would it?
She doubted he would stay in Red Ridge, but would he come back more often to see his daughter? Or once he left, would they be out of his sight, out of his mind?
That must have been the case last time. He couldn’t have looked for her very long before he’d left Red Ridge. And he had never come back to look for her again within those five years. That night—and she—had not meant as much to him as it and he had to her.
She was glad she’d slipped out of bed without awakening him. It would have been even more distracting had he been following her around today.
Sasha emitted a sound deep in her throat, and her hair began to rise on her neck. She’d caught the scent of something...
She’d also caught Juliette’s attention. She shook her head, shaking off the sleepiness and distraction. She had to be focused now. Her life depended on it.
“What do you smell, girl?” Juliette asked.
And the white-and-brown dog turned back and looked at Juliette, as if asking if she was new. What the hell did Juliette think Sasha smelled?
Of course it was drugs. Sniffing them out was Sasha’s specialty.
The beagle had found that small amount of marijuana on someone a few days ago. But this seemed bigger—Sasha seemed more excited, her little body trembling with it.
Juliette and Sasha weren’t the only K9 team at the bus terminal. Carson Gage walked around the lines of people waiting outside for buses, as well. His German shepherd, Justice, was more a tracker than a drug sniffing dog, though.
She could have used them last night to find the killer. But once he’d disappeared into the sewer, probably not even Justice would have been able to track where he’d gone after that.
To her house?
Had he been watching her place last night? Waiting for another chance to shoot at her?
She shivered despite the afternoon heat.
Then Sasha stopped moving down the row and sat down next to the suitcase of a woman in line for the bus to Spearfish. The young woman dropped the handle of the small case and stared straight ahead, apparently trying to pretend that she was unaware of Juliette and the canine. Sweat beaded on the woman’s brow and upper lip. She was young—with several tattoos covering her skinny arms. Her hair had been dyed purple but black roots showed at her scalp.
She looked familiar to Juliette. But then, she’d spent the first day after the murder in the park rousting drug houses. She could have seen her there. She looked like a user. The ivy vine tattoos on her arms did not hide her needle marks.
The woman from the park had had those same tattoos. And the same purple hair. Carson had made the notification to the woman’s next of kin; did he recognize this woman? Was she related to the murder victim?
Juliette looked up to try to catch his attention, and the girl took that second to try to run. She leaped over the suitcase that Sasha had gotten the hit on and ran past the line for the bus.
“Gage!” Juliette yelled at her co-worker.
Without waiting to see if Carson followed, Juliette dropped Sasha’s leash, knowing she’d stay with the suitcase, and started running after the girl. She couldn’t let her get away. This woman—who looked so much like the murder victim—might be the best clue to finding the killer.
* * *
This was not good.
The bitch should have left town days ago—right after her sister’s death—if she’d wanted to live. Hadn’t her sister’s murder been a lesson to her?
Don’t cross your bosses...
Sure, he’d been told to leave town and he hadn’t yet. But they didn’t understand he had unfinished business. He was not about to leave witnesses alive.
And apparently, they’d been relieved, too, that he hadn’t left when they’d realized the dead woman had not acted alone. They wanted their loose ends cleaned up, so maybe they would understand that he had to clean up his, as well.
They also wanted to send a message to their other associates: You stole product from them and tried to sell it to someone else, and you were going to wind up dead.
He stared through the scope of his long gun as he moved the barrel around—trying to find her.
Her purple hair made it easy enough to pick her out of the crowd. That and the fact that she was running.
He groaned. He wasn’t the only one who’d made her. Those damn Red Ridge cops were getting in the way again. Then he saw the blond hair of the female officer who pursued her.
And he grinned with happiness. Maybe his luck had begun to change.
He was about to hit two birds with one stone...
* * *
After waking up alone in her house, Blake had called the bodyguards on her protection duty. They had assured him that they were close to Juliette, and that they wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
But Blake had been compelled to join them again.
It wasn’t just that he’d lost a little faith in them after the night before. It was also that he had an odd feeling he might not see Juliette again. So he was driving to the bus terminal where the bodyguards had told him they’d followed her from the police department.
Why did Finn keep sending her out in the field? While he might not have been able to force her to stay in the safe house, he could have assigned her desk duty. Or suspended her completely until the killer was caught.
The man had not let up any on his attempts on her life. In fact, he’d seemed to get bolder. That attempt last night...
Blake shuddered as he remembered rushing into the stairwell to fin
d the man’s hands locked around Juliette’s throat. She was strong. But the man had been stronger. If Blake hadn’t shown up, he would have killed her for certain.
It was too dangerous for her to be anywhere but that safe house with their daughter.
That was where she needed to be—with Pandora.
A twinge struck his heart when he remembered that the little girl was why Juliette had come to see him at the hotel the night before.
Because he’d disappointed their daughter...
Already.
Evidently, he was his father’s son. He remembered all the times he’d waited by the door for Fenwick to pick him for some promised outing. Only to have his father never show up...
All the times he’d searched the stands during football, basketball or baseball games to see if his father had come to watch, like he’d promised. But even on those rare instances when Fenwick had shown, he’d been on the phone with someone—too preoccupied with business or women to actually watch Blake play.
That long-ago disappointment in his father turned into disappointment in himself now. Had he made Pandora feel like that—the way his father had made him feel?
He was also frustrated because he didn’t know what to do. Did he get closer to the child and risk disappointing her even more than he already had?
Or did he figure out how to be a better father than Fenwick Colton had been to him and his sisters?
Maybe Juliette could teach him how. For the little girl’s entire life, Juliette had been her father as well as her mother. She’d been everything to Pandora.
So why wasn’t she with the child now? Why did she keep putting herself at risk to catch this killer?
He sighed again—because he knew. She needed to make sure the little girl was safe, and the only way to do that was to catch and put away the killer who’d threatened her.
He pulled his rental vehicle into the parking lot of the bus terminal and looked around for the bodyguards. As usual, he couldn’t see their SUV; Finn had said he would only allow them to follow Juliette if they stayed out of the way of his officers. Blake saw two Red Ridge K9 unit patrol cars.
