“What do you mean?” she exclaimed, unmistakable laughter in her tone. “This is a beach. People often wear a lot less than I am at the moment.”
“That may be so,” he responded through gritted teeth. “But they don’t fill out a bikini the way you do, blatantly tempting me to do bad things on a public beach.”
“I’ve a feeling they’d be far from bad.”
This time, he did groan and she chuckled, clearly pleased with herself. They sat in relative peace for a few minutes, and he found himself unwinding. As long as he didn’t allow his eyes to stray over her bikini-clad figure too often, he was okay and his heart rate settled into an easy rhythm. He leaned back on his elbows soaking up the atmosphere, and his eyelids lowered to half-mast. They popped wide open again when her hand landed on his thigh.
“The sun has moved. Could you put some sunscreen on my back please?”
Nate swiveled his head to send her a dirty look, then noticed the sun had indeed shifted. He shuffled over to kneel behind her. Once he was in place, she pulled her ponytail over a shoulder and he caught a whiff of the shampoo she’d used that morning. Just that was enough to send the hunger roaring through his veins once more. He leaned closer and inhaled, closing his eyes as the faint vanilla scent she used on her body teased his nostrils. Her skin glowed with vitality. She looked good enough to eat.
What would she do if he grated his teeth over the sensitive spot at the juncture of neck and shoulder? Before the thought had completely left his head, he lowered his mouth and gently bit down on her. Her sharp intake of breath was the sweetest revenge. That’ll teach her. With the slightest tilt of her head, she allowed him better access. Soft sighs urged him to continue, sending jolts of desire directly to his cock. As he sucked her skin into his mouth, he felt the subtle shiver of her response and closed his eyes to enjoy her taste better. Vanilla and honey touched with the salt air. She was an aphrodisiac to all his senses.
His hand stroked down, around her body until his thumb brushed the side of her breast, and his palm itched to cup her fullness. A sharp squeal from a youngster pierced his eardrums, reminding him of their surroundings. He was up for occasional mild kink, but public lovemaking didn’t make his list of favorite things to do. With a regretful sigh, he placed a final kiss on her neck and sat back on his heels.
Upending the sun-cream, he squirted a dollop onto his palm and smoothed it into her golden skin, working from the center of her back out as quickly as he could. When he finished, he handed her the bottle and spread the remnants on his palms over his face. As she slathered her front in the greasy stuff, Nate opened the cooler and pulled out sandwiches, chips, pesto and a couple of drinks. The fresh, salty air worked its magic. His appetite returned to its usual hearty state as he relaxed, and he demolished his sandwich in just a few bites.
After eating, they sat companionably side by side and nursed their beers, content to watch the world go by.
“Why haven’t I done this more often?” he asked, indicating the vista before them. People played on the sand and in the calm water. Farther out at sea, yachts drifted lazily by, sails billowing in the gentle breeze. “It’s beautiful. No wonder the people are out in force.” He lay back on an elbow and gazed up at her. “You’re good for me.”
Her smile reached her eyes and the sun haloed around her head, giving her the impression of an angel. With the classical beauty of her features, he thought, she could easily be mistaken for one. She’d been his more than once. He owed her his life—and sanity.
Sunlight glinted off an object in his peripheral vision, and his gaze slipped idly beyond Kelly to find the source. A few feet away from them sat a young woman and her toddler, building a sandcastle. A delicate cross around her neck swung gently back and forth, as she bent over and patted the sand. The sun reflected off it in time to the motion. Nate smiled when the child shoveled sand over her foot instead of their building, and the mother’s fake shout of outrage sent the child into fits of giggles. As his gaze started to move away, it snagged on a form standing ominously behind her and the breath froze in his chest.
Jackknifing upright, he stared, hoping his eyes were merely playing tricks on him. The shadow was so dense, so completely devoid of light it seemed to suck the energy and light of all that surrounding it, dwindling everything to mere cardboard cutouts.
As if from a distance, Nate heard Kelly’s concerned voice, but he couldn’t tear his horrified gaze away. While he watched, the shape of a hand reached down and touched the woman’s shoulder. She shuddered and rubbed at the spot as if chilled and then looked up at the sky. Her wide, innocent gaze collided with Nate’s, and suddenly, her face became superimposed over a cold, lifeless parody.
“No!” The cry tore from the very depths of his soul, and he leapt to his feet. He charged towards the woman, his focus so centered on the darkness at her shoulder that her look of shock didn’t register. The shadow disappeared at his approach. One moment it was there, and the next, gone. Sand sprayed onto the woman’s sunburned legs as he fell to his knees in front of her.
“Take that off right now,” he demanded harshly, pointing at the dangling ornament around her neck. When she just stared at him in shocked silence, he closed his fist over it to yank it off himself.
“Nate!” Kelly dropped beside him and grasped his wrist in a death grip, her scowl as fierce. When he didn’t let go immediately, she squeezed hard, making his fingers numb. He dropped his hand to his lap.
“Control yourself,” she hissed under her breath, inclining her head at the people milling around curiously, blatantly directing stares of hostility his way.
He turned his attention back to the woman and, for the first time, noted the frightened expression on her face and the way she shielded her son from him as if he were a monster.
“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He reached out with a conciliatory hand and cursed quietly when she shrank back. “I won’t hurt you. I’m a police officer. That symbol you’re wearing has incited a spate of recent violent crimes,” he clumsily explained.
Even to his own ears, it sounded crazy, implausible. He watched the woman’s gaze fall on Kelly’s own necklace, and then she arched her brow at him.
He grimaced and his shoulders slumped. Any credibility he’d earned was decimated in that singular glance. “I couldn’t bear it if you were targeted,” he muttered. “Please. Just be careful.”
Kelly tugged him away and shoved him none too gently towards their blanket. As he trudged away over the hot sand, he heard her apologize to the woman, her voice soothing and rational. He cringed. It was very different from how his own must have sounded. His would have been more like a raving lunatic.
Once he reached their earlier spot, he sank down, closed his eyes, and buried his head in his hands. What was wrong with him? He was losing it. The man he’d been before being shot, the one who hadn’t a superstitious bone in his body, and the one who didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits was suddenly acting like a loony prophet, convinced the world was going to end. He didn’t like it one bit.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He raised his head and tried to meet Kelly’s eyes, but she turned away and pulled her clothes back on. Without a word, she rolled up the blanket then marched up the beach towards her car. The rigid set to her shoulders and the jerky movements of her body spoke volumes of her state of mind. Setting his jaw, he picked up the cooler, deviated towards the bin with their rubbish, and followed her to the car. A headache pounded at the base of his skull with the insistence of a jackhammer, and the remnants of adrenaline that had provided him with temporary strength, leeched out through shaky limbs. What had started out so promising had turned into the day from hell.
Chapter Eight
Nate cursed his cowardice not speaking during the drive home. He knew he should have broken the silence, but he was afraid of both what she would and wouldn’t say about his display at the beach. Mostly, he was afraid she would confirm what he believe
d to be the case. He was going mad.
When they pulled into the gloom of the apartment’s parking lot, artificial light backlit her outline, turning her profile into shadow. Kelly cut off the engine and the low rumble of the car died. The silence was absolute.
Blonde tendrils escaped the ponytail and wisped over her shoulders as she turned towards him. “What the hell was that all about, O’Leary?” He didn’t need to see her lips to imagine they’d formed into a thin line. It was loud and clear in her words.
“The shadow,” he answered in a flat tone. “That damn shadow stood over her while she played with her son.” His gaze wandered out the windscreen, his thoughts as murky as the light outside. “I swear it was mocking me.”
Kelly exhaled loudly. He hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.
“And what did you think you’d achieve by scaring the shit out of her and her boy like that? You acted like a crazy person. The only reason she didn’t call the cops was because I showed her my badge.”
His eyes bulged as he imagined her pulling the badge from under one of the scraps of material covering her feminine attributes, and blood pooled straight to his groin. Light reflected off her eyes as she rolled them.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, O’Leary. I had it in the basket. I never leave home without it. Now,” she added in a softer voice. “You want to tell me why you acted so crazy attacking her like that?”
Nate scrubbed a tired hand over his eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I just saw the necklace and thought if she weren’t wearing it, she wouldn’t become a target. I thought maybe I could save her.”
“You think she’s next then? Because you saw a shadow?”
“I know it,” he responded fiercely to the hint of doubt in her tone. “And it was more than just a shadow, but I don’t have another word for what it is.” The weight of her silence had him shoving open the door and striding for the stairs.
“Nate,” she called out, her voice high-pitched in alarm. “The elevator is to your right.”
He paused long enough to glance over his shoulder. Her teeth were clamped down on her bottom lip and frown lines marred her smooth forehead.
He rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not addled in the head, Kelly. I want to take the stairs. Excess energy to get rid of.”
From behind, he heard the thunk of the car’s door and a mutter, followed by the alarm being set. He snorted. As if anyone would want to steal that bucket of rust. Setting a steady pace, he started climbing, ignoring the uncomfortable pull of his healing flesh. At the second level, she caught up.
“You’re crazy. Its twenty stories up and you’re still recovering. I should haul your ass back down these steps and into the elevator.”
“Worried you won’t be able keep up?” He accompanied the challenge with an insulting look up and down her trim body.
“No, more like I’m worried I’ll have to carry you up the rest of the stairs when you keel over.”
“Not gonna happen.” He controlled his unsteady breathing with effort and forged ahead. Already he regretted the hasty decision to expel the energy from his restless body this way. But stubborn pride and his male ego prevented him from admitting she was right.
All too soon, his thighs burned and his chest heaved as he sucked in gasps of air. His whole body ached, radiating from the injury site outward. With dogged steps, he kept climbing. Sweat ran down his forehead, into his eyes, and he swiped at it impatiently as the sign for the next level appeared on the platform. Shit! The sixteenth floor. He groaned. Four more to go. He was just about spent. Only imagining Kelly’s gloating look of “I told you so” added an extra spurt of energy to his exhausted limbs.
With his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached, he forced one shaking leg in front of the other. He almost cried in relief when the twentieth floor sign came into view. At the landing, he propped himself upright with a hand against the wall and closed his eyes to banish the black dots. His breaths came in ragged, uneven bursts as if he’d run a marathon. He bent at the waist, desperate for relief, and drew in deep draughts of air.
“Far out, O’Leary.” He opened one eye to find Kelly staring down at him, her own breathing only slightly labored, arms crossed in irritation. Concern laced her features. “Who are you trying to impress? Only a week ago you were at death’s door.”
He sent her a crooked grin and slowly straightened. He hurt like hell. “That didn’t impress you, then?”
She remained unmoved, just continued with that long stare as his grin faded. Pushing off from the wall, he shrugged and moved down the hall towards his apartment. All he wanted now was to collapse in a chair and down a cold drink.
Aware that she followed him, he removed the key from his pocket, swiped it, and stepped inside. He staggered to the lounge and sank down into the comforting embrace of the couch with a groan.
God, it felt good to sit down. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the support. Footsteps muffled by the thick carpet told him Kelly had bypassed the lounge. The welcome sound of liquid sloshed into a glass, making him painfully aware of his dry throat.
“Here.” She pressed the glass into his hands, and his fingers wrapped around it gratefully. He risked a glance up and noted concern and annoyance vying for supremacy on her face.
“That was a stupid thing to do.” Annoyance obviously won out. “You could have a relapse.” She turned her head away, but not before he saw a glint of tears in her eyes.
He grasped her hand before she could move off and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know. I’m sorry, Kelly.”
Her gaze shot to his, weighing his apology. Finally, she nodded and pulled away. Lifting his bereft hand, he idly massaged his stiff neck muscles. Her gaze tracked the movement. Sighing, she turned and strode into the bathroom. Moments later, she emerged carrying a small bottle.
“I can help you with that,” she gestured to his neck and poured some of the contents into her palm. “Lean forward.”
He obeyed. The sweet smell of almond oil teased his nostrils, and he closed his eyes on a sigh at the first touch of her warm hands sliding over his skin. Within moments, he lost himself in the sensual haze. His world consisted of her touch cajoling him to relax. Her fingers slid firmly over his tightly corded muscles, seeking out and encouraging the knots to unravel. Occasionally his groans filled the air. As he became aware of her own soft pants of exertion in his ear, he leaned his elbows on his knees and let his hands drop between them to hide his helpless reaction. The sounds were too reminiscent of lovemaking.
“Take your shirt off,” she ordered softly, and he jerked his head to glance at her over his shoulder.
A perfectly formed eyebrow arched in amusement. “I need to get farther down your back to the source of the tension.”
His body surged. Oh, boy. The tension in his back had nothing on what she caused up front with her skillful hands. He reached for the hem, pulled his shirt off, and leaned forward before she decided to stop. The need to have her hands on him again far outweighed the discomfort of an erection.
He grunted as a tickling fingertip traced the tattoo that curved around his front and finished at the small of his back.
“Why a dragon?” she asked lightly then continued the massage. He tensed at the question. Her sensitive fingers worked on the area between his shoulder blades, pulling and rubbing until the tension eased.
“It’s in honor of my sister.” He surprised himself with the admission. He hadn’t shared that with anyone. It was too raw—too personal. “When she was murdered, I swore I would put her killer behind bars—slay her dragons. The ink is a reminder that even with the best of intentions, sometimes our best isn’t good enough, and we have to find a way to live with our dragons instead, however much it pains us.”
Her hands paused. “I’m sorry for your loss. She must have been a wonderful person to merit such a beautiful tribute.”
“The best.” He swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat whenever he tho
ught of her. “Her killer wasn’t hard to find. The bastard was her ex-boyfriend. I just wish I knew sooner that he liked to beat his women. I wish she’d trusted me to take care of it earlier. Maybe then she’d still be alive.”
He heard her quick intake of air before her hands resumed their work. “I’d heard you almost killed a man. Was that him?”
“Yes.”
He expected her censure and so her next words, spoken quietly, came as a shock. “I’m glad. I bet your sister would have been, too. The bastard deserved far worse in my opinion.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ll admit it felt good at the time, but it could have compromised the investigation. It was stupid of me, but she was gone. The worst had happened, or so I thought.”
He waited for the familiar anger to burn like acid in his chest, but it never materialized. It still pissed him off, but the soul-ripping pain he’d once felt had left him. He rubbed idly at the spot in wonder. Silence stretched between them, but it was one born of the comfort that comes from baring one’s soul and being accepted, regardless. Nate let his head drop forward and closed his eyes on a deep sigh. Most of the kinks had been worked out, leaving him feeling boneless.
“You have magic hands,” he groaned as she finished with his shoulders and worked down his spine.
“You’re not the first to tell me that.”
“Really?” An emotion akin to jealousy lit a fire through his veins and he sat up straighter. “A boyfriend?”
Kelly laughed and slapped his good shoulder lightly. “Relax, would you? Don’t undo all my hard work. If you must know, it was my mother. I don’t have a boyfriend. There aren’t many men around who like dating Amazons.”
“More fool them,” he muttered. “There’s just more to love.” The aggression that simmered and threatened to boil over cooled down.
Her hands suddenly dropped away from his back and she threw his discarded shirt at him. The easy camaraderie of the moment before disappeared.
Beyond the Shadows Page 11
