Silenced Memories

by Brittney Sahin

  Kate tried to ignore the tiny neurons that were shooting south of her belly, warming her body and waking her up. She wasn’t supposed to be having feelings like that. She wasn’t supposed to want the man who couldn’t ever want her for more than her body.

  But, oh God, sex with Michael was deliciously . . . well, delicious. And he was the best kind of distraction to help her handle this crazy ordeal.

  “You okay?” Connor waved his hand in front of her face before handing her a cup of coffee.

  She hadn’t even realized he was standing in front of her. Was she so blinded by thoughts of Michael that she couldn’t even see the hot man before her, holding her favorite beverage? “Sorry.” She smiled at him, took the coffee, and slid onto a barstool. “Thank you.” She brushed her hands over her sundress and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Connor responded with a grin that she was sure would make most women quiver with excitement. “Jake called and said he’d try and be here by two. Michael promised to be back by then, as well.” He sipped his coffee. “Would you like to get out of the house today? We could walk around the city. I assume you must feel a little claustrophobic, being stuck inside.”

  The man has a point. Fresh air was exactly what she needed. Perhaps the dizzying affect Michael had on her would dissipate. Or at least she might cool down by a degree or two. “I could almost kiss you for suggesting that,” she exclaimed, promptly rising to her feet.

  “I would take you up on that, but Michael would kill us both,” he said before flashing her a knowing smile.

  “Michael and I are just friends.”

  Connor nodded. “Uh huh. Okay. So he was being more of a big brother when he threatened me with bodily harm to keep my hands to myself?”

  Kate snapped back around to look at Connor. “He did what?”

  Connor ignored her question. “Looks like you’re ready to get out of here, so come on.” He tilted his head and motioned for her to follow.

  Why did Michael care if Connor flirted with her? Why did he have to be so confusing? She tried to shut off her brain as they exited the building, but the motor kept running. “Connor, has Michael always been—”

  He stepped into the elevator and cocked his head to the side. “An ass?”

  Kate’s lips twitched with amusement.

  “I only know him from our military service together. So, to me, he’s always been Mike—Michael, the guy that you know.” He waited for her to enter the elevator and crossed his arms, showing tanned biceps that bulged from beneath the sleeves of his gray T-shirt. “But I don’t want to get him pissed at me for talking. I’m already on thin ice for cozying up next to you during the movie last night.” He chuckled. “That man is going to have an ulcer with you around. He is wound so freaking tight.”

  Was that a good thing? Did it mean that Michael was falling for her? No, stop it. She couldn’t afford to hope that Michael would change. This was not a romance novel—she was not some heroine who would rescue his dark soul with love. She had to stop pretending that Michael would ever want her. Yes, he cared about her. But Michael cared about helping people in general.

  “I have a date on Friday,” she said as they rounded the corner of the street and headed for Starbucks.

  “I heard about the auction.”

  “The thing is, I don’t want my date to know about any of this, and it might be kind of hard to explain why I have a, um, bodyguard.” She fidgeted with her fingers as they walked.

  “Well, you know that Michael will never let you go alone. If he even lets you go at all.” He opened the door to Starbucks so she could enter. “I could keep some distance from you. I could be out of sight but always there. Would that work? Maybe Michael will be okay with that.”

  “He better be okay with it, because I’m not giving him a choice. Thank you.”

  After finishing their breakfast sandwiches and lattes, they exited the cafe, but Kate stopped in her tracks before they made it more than a couple feet outside the door. She had forgotten how close they were to Michael’s office building.

  And there Michael was, standing on the other side of the street. He was talking to the slender auburn haired woman she’d seen at his office last week. The redhead was touching his chest, and then she reached up and pressed her lips to his.

  A city bus zipped by, blocking her view for a moment. When it was gone, she saw Michael looking over at her. Even from across the street, she could tell he looked pissed.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Michael’s eyes left Kate’s and returned to the auburn-haired girl. He took the woman by the elbow and led her inside his office building.

  Jealousy was an ugly thing. Kate was rarely a party to it when it came to men, but with Michael, a bubbling caldron of emotions had brewed into something frustratingly toxic. She needed to get out of his home, and fast.

  “You okay?”

  “Do you know her?” Kate asked while looking up at Connor. Her eyes became darker with anger but then muddled by sadness.

  He stared at her with squinted eyes for a brief moment. “No. Come on, let’s take a walk.”

  “We’re just friends,” she said as they picked up their pace. But her heart felt as though a hammer was pounding on it, smashing it into tiny pieces, all while her stomach was doing small, sickening flips. She’d be okay, though. It was better to truly understand Michael’s limits, to see that he was in fact who he said he was.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Michael’s calling,” Kate said as she looked down at her cell phone. Connor and Kate had been roaming the streets of the city for about thirty minutes after Kate had witnessed Michael’s kiss. “I don’t feel like talking to him right now.” She shoved her phone back into her purse.

  Connor’s cell began buzzing as soon as Kate’s had stopped. “I have to answer it. He’s the boss.” He shrugged. “What’s up?”

  Kate bit her thumb and took a seat on a nearby bench. She tried to ignore the pain that pooled in her stomach, ready to crash down like a tidal wave, to knock her off her feet. She looked up at Connor, who had stepped away to talk to Michael in private.

  Connor was grimacing when he approached her. “He wants to see you,” he said, shoving the phone into the back pocket of his board shorts.

  Kate jumped to her feet. “No. I don’t feel like seeing him right now. Come on, let’s get a drink.”

  “It’s eleven in the morning.” He reached for her arm. “Kate, Michael isn’t the guy you say ‘no’ to.” He tilted his head in a beckoning motion. “Please. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”

  He was trying to manipulate her. There was no way this ex-military badass was afraid of Michael. “Connor, I—I just can’t face him. Okay?”

  “He won’t be happy about this.” He reached for his phone and sent Michael a text. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. “You win. It’ll be my head, but I aim to please you, madam.” His eyes lit up like those of a mischievous young boy. “I have an idea. Follow me.”

  The touch of his rough hand against hers made her feel unfaithful. But she knew that was totally crazy. What was there to be faithful to? Frustrated with herself, she tightened her grip on Connor’s hand and tried to feel as young as Connor seemed. She allowed him to lead the way.

  “There’s a great dive bar a few blocks away. We can throw some darts and drink a few beers. They should be opening about now.”

  He was definitely right about the dive part. The bar looked like something out of the Blue Lagoon. It was a tropical paradise for men with scruffy beards and women with tattoos. It was not her typical hangout place, which was why it was perfect. The last thing she wanted was to be typical Kate.

  “I love it,” she exclaimed as they sat down at the bar. She attempted to ignore the fact that the black leather stool was a tad sticky. She would have to deal with a stain on the backside of her pale pink sundress.

  “Two Coronas with lime,” Connor ordered.

  “I
don’t drink beer . . . but what the hell, first time for everything.”

  “This will be your first Corona?”

  Kate decided that the shock on his face was rather cute. “Yes.” When he handed her the bottle, they clinked their glasses together, and she took a sip. She attempted to hide her obvious distaste for the gold liquid, but judging by the huge smirk on Connor’s face, she failed.

  He grinned at her and motioned for the bartender. “Can you make a mimosa for the lady?”

  Kate’s cheeks warmed with excitement. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s a little more my speed.”

  “You should do that more often,” he said before raising the bottle to his mouth.

  “Do what?”

  “Smile.”

  She blushed. “You, too. You have a great smile.” When her drink arrived, she took an eager sip and looked around the bar. “So, tell me about yourself.”

  He ran a hand over his short brown beard, and his pale green eyes turned a shade darker. Kate waited for him to speak, but she wondered if she had hit some invisible mute button. “Connor?” She reached for his shoulder and rested her hand on it. “You okay?” she whispered, sensing the unspoken tension in his body. She never expected that such a casual question would prove to be such a difficult one.

  He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “I don’t have much of a story.” His voice gave her a chill colder than the Arctic. Gone was the carefree, charming companion—in his place was now an aloof stranger. He reminded her a little of Michael, in that way. Warm one minute and steel the next. Of course, steel could get hot pretty quick. “Connor, you don’t need to tell me anything. You don’t owe me anything. I was just making conversation.” She released her hand from his shoulder and looked down at her mimosa.

  “Kate, Michael trusts me to keep you safe, but I think most of us—those who spent a lot of time in the Middle East—well, we don’t like to talk about our past. We don’t like talking about ourselves all too much. Mike and I are kind of fucked up, to tell you the truth. Afghanistan was the breaking point for us.” He took a swig of beer. “I think he’s a bit more messed up, though,” he said with a smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “I try to be a happy-go-lucky guy, in spite of everything, but Mike, well he . . .”

  Kate was curious to hear more, but Connor was looking at something behind her. She swiveled around to see what had grabbed his attention.

  Michael, wearing his powerhouse, three-piece suit, was standing at the entrance of the bar. He looked even more out of place than she did. Even in the dim lighting, she could see the muscle in his jaw twitch.

  “Kate,” he gruffly said. “We need to talk.” His eyes were focused on hers, ignoring Connor’s presence.

  “How’d you find us?” Kate mumbled as she rose to her feet.

  “Never mind that.” He then directed his heated gaze in Connor’s direction. “What were you thinking, bringing her to a place like this?”

  “Oh come on, she’s fine.” Connor stayed seated and finished his beer.

  “I’ll bring her back to my place. Jake will be there at two—come over then.” His voice was frosty.

  Kate looked up at him and shivered a little at the steely man now staring down at her. She gulped. “Bye Connor. Thanks for the drink.”

  Michael rested his hand on her arm and guided her out of the bar. She had to blink a few times as they exited from the dim bar and burst into the bright, sunlit outside.

  “What the hell was that all about?” she snapped out once she gained her voice. Too many times she’d become meek and surrendered as he pushed her around. Too many times. She didn’t like it. She wasn’t a child.

  “What were you doing in there with him? Is there something going on between you two?” They stopped walking, and he turned to face her, ignoring the small audience of pedestrians that subversively observed the scene as they walked by.

  If it were possible, her jaw would have hit the ground. It would have come unhinged and plummeted. “You’re crazy.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the empty brick building next to the dive bar.

  “Kate.” His eyes tore through her, and it was he who was biting his lip this time. “What you saw earlier—”

  “Was none of my business,” she said with a little more fire to her voice than she had meant to. Keep your cool, Kate. She pushed away from the wall and attempted to walk away, but he grabbed her hand and spun her to face him. “What?” There was pain etched on her face. She could feel it. And she was pissed to show it.

  “Kate.” His voice was a plea. “Come on, let’s talk at my place.” He motioned for her to follow him, and she agreed. Where else did she have to go?

  ***

  They walked the six blocks back to his home in complete silence. When the elevator doors opened, she rushed out.

  “What’s your problem?”

  She spun around and walked back toward him, failing to mask her look of total madness. “I don’t have a problem. I was perfectly fine having a drink with Connor until you showed up, looking like the Hulk.”

  If he weren’t so angry, he would have laughed. He pinched his eyebrows together, chucked his keys on the hall table, and ran both hands through his dark hair in obvious frustration. “Can we talk?” He took off his blazer and tossed it on the recliner as he moved toward the living area. He unbuttoned his black vest and threw it off, as well.

  She turned on her heel and walked toward the balcony.

  “It wasn’t what it looked like,” he said, taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He crossed his ankle over his knee, his Ralph Lauren suit stretching over his taut quadriceps. He rolled up the sleeves of his black collared shirt and drummed his fingers on his knees.

  She turned around and leaned back against the railing. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “It sure as hell feels like I do,” he bit back. He shut his eyes and tried to release his anger, wanting to speak to her rationally, without so much emotion. When he opened his eyes, he felt even worse. Staring at her gorgeous body and full lips—and knowing he could never touch her again—was giving new meaning to the color blue.

  “Michael, I don’t care about some pretty redhead. Kiss whoever you want.” Her words didn’t match the heated look in her eyes.

  He let out a slow breath and shifted in his seat. His attention wandered to her lips. She was the only one he was in the mood to kiss. “She kissed me. I didn’t expect it or want it,” he said, switching his gaze from her mouth to her eyes.

  “Who is she?”

  Why did he feel the need to reassure her? They both knew they couldn’t be together. She could never play by his rules, so why were they even having this conversation? Why did he need to explain himself, to show her . . . what? That he’d been faithful? He groaned and tore his eyes away from hers. He stared at the hotel across the street.

  “Who is she?” she asked again, her voice raw.

  “She’s no one of concern to you,” he replied after a beat.

  “Because women just kiss you on the street all the time?” She paused. “Or do they? Damn you and your superhuman good looks. It’s just not natural for someone to look so freaking good all the time.” Her shoulders slouched forward as she turned away from him. “I remember her from your office,” she added a few moments later in a somber voice. “And she was in one of the photos my stalker sent me.”

  His blue eyes flashed in pained irritation. He didn’t know what to say. He had no intention of opening up to her, and especially not about this. “She’s an old friend.” He chose the only honest words he was able to share.

  “A friend with benefits, huh?”

  He rose to his feet and joined her at the railing. Together, they stared down at the street. “I don’t feel like getting into all of this with you. I want to help you find the bastard who is stalking you, and I promised I would help you find your mother’s killer. Can we just focus on that for now?”

  “Fine. I can forget the way you f
eel inside me. If you can,” she commented as her blue-green eyes dipped south of his hips, before slowly moving back up to his face.

  Not fair.

  He mentally slapped himself, trying to control the impulse to grab hold of her.

  After a minute, she started to turn away, but his arm banded around her waist, and he pulled her back.

  Fuck, was the only thought that came to his mind as he stared down at her full pink lips. Her body was an inch from his, and his face was close to hers. “You’re making me lose my God damned mind. You know that, right?” His voice was low but smooth.

  She stared back at him.

  She wanted him to kiss her. He saw the hunger in her eyes. He felt the way her body responded to his.

  He couldn’t contain himself any longer. His mouth moved to hers, almost violently, stealing her breath. And she returned his kiss, allowing his tongue entry to her mouth.

  Without thinking, he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his abdomen. With his lips locked onto hers, he carried her into the house before slamming the glass doors shut. With one swift movement, he tore her panties off from beneath her dress.

  He would never make it to a room. Still holding her, he tapped a button by the door, and the automatic blinds began to close. “God, I need you,” he hoarsely said. He brought her to the couch and sat down, sitting her on his lap. He pulled her dress up over her arms and threw it to the floor. His mouth covered her shoulders and neck before rising to meet her wet lips again.

  She toyed with the button and zipper on his black slacks, trying to free his erection, but failed. He moved his hand to hers and freed himself within a moment before returning his attention to her full breasts. He deftly unhooked her lacy red bra and tossed it. He captured one nipple with his mouth while he palmed her other breast.

  She licked her lips as she worked him free of the opening to his boxers. She began to run her hand up and down his length as her lips met his mouth again.

  Her touch was like an assault on his sanity. He groaned. She was electrifying his senses, filling him with heat, freeing him of that pesky blue color. He could, and maybe would, lose his mind if he didn’t orgasm soon.