by Diana Palmer
"Not true," Cash said quietly. "You've got me, too."
Rory lifted his head and looked with faint surprise at the older man. He'd been thinking of himself as a nuisance for weeks now. But Cash was smiling.
Rory smiled shyly. "Thanks. It works both ways, you know," he added. "I'd save you, if I could."
Cash's expression was curious, mingling affection with quiet pride. He smiled back. "I'll remember that."
"I'm going to watch that new adventure movie you brought home, if it's okay," Rory told Cash.
"Sure. Go ahead. There's nothing much on television tonight anyway."
"Thanks!"
He was gone in a flash, leaving Tippy and Cash alone together at the table. He toyed with his empty cup.
"Want a refill?" she asked, noting the restless movement.
"I wouldn't mind a second cup," he agreed.
She got up to pour it. But as she put it down in front of him, he caught her hand and pulled her gently onto his lap.
"When I joined the army, I didn't really have a career in mind," he told her
quietly while he settled her comfortably with her head on his shoulder and one of her
slender hands in his own. "I finished college there. But in the meantime, my sergeant
noticed that I never missed on the rifle range. He recommended me for a special, top-
secret unit. I was given an assignment, which I fulfilled." His hand tightened on
hers. "I can't go into particulars. Most of what I did was classified. Suffice it to say
that the job required me to kill."
She didn't move, or speak. She was afraid he'd stop talking. It was the first time
he'd trusted her enough to discuss this secret, which she sensed he'd told only one
other person in his life. His ex-wife had walked out on him. Tippy knew that she
never would, no matter what he told her. She loved him
too much.
He looked down at her face. "No comment?" he asked tautly.
"You're talking. I'm listening," she said softly. "I know this must be hard for you.
I'm not judging or criticizing. But I think it would do you good to talk about it." He laughed shortly. "That was what I thought once before." She reached her hand up to his lean face and stroked his cheek tenderly. "This isn't the past. And I'm no coward." He seemed to relax a little. "Certainly you dismissed any discussion about that this afternoon," he murmured. "You'll be a local legend for the rest of your life." She grinned. "You think so?" "I do." He shifted her into a more comfortable position, but he was less tense. "I did
two black ops jobs before it started getting to me. I got out of the army, but my reputation went with me. In no time, I was on everybody's list for special assignments, freelance. I let them convince me that my hang-ups would vanish in time, that I was doing a necessary job to make the world safe. I bought the explanation. I worked for various agencies in our country and others, often cooperating with crack commando units as a sniper. I was fluent in several languages as well, which didn't hurt, and I could repair anything electronic. I was never out of work."
He drew in a long breath, and his dark eyes became haunted. "Then, one night, I started having nightmares. Real, vivid, screaming nightmares. I saw dead faces. First it was once a week, then every other day." His face was taut with memory. "I thought if I gave up the job, they might go away. I had all the money I would ever need from the freelance jobs, safe in a Swiss bank. I was living on luck, and it was only a matter of time until it ran out. So I quit and came back to the States. I worked in law enforcement, here in Texas, for years until I ended up with the Rangers. I met a woman at lunch one day— pretty little brunette who was always giving me the eye. She flirted outrageously with me until I gave in and asked her out. After the first date, she moved in with me. Two weeks later we were married."
Tippy was trying not to feel jealous, and failing miserably. "That was quick." "Yes. Too quick. What I didn't know was that she was a cousin of an old army buddy of mine. He didn't know what sort of work I did for the army, but he did know that I lived high. He told her I had money. She loved diamonds and high fashion. I was too smitten to notice that she only tolerated my touch, and the tolerance got better as the presents got a little more expensive." She grimaced. "It must have been painful to learn that." "It was." His face hardened. "I was crazy about her. She seemed to be in love with me, at the time. She got pregnant and I was over the moon. I'd never considered kids until then, but the first flush of impending fatherhood made a fool of me," he added, trying to downplay his feelings because of the baby he and Tippy had lost. "So in a fit of honesty, I sat down and told her the story of my life. The rest, you know. She walked out. Later, I heard that she'd planned to get rid of the baby anyway, but she enjoyed putting the blame on me. She thought it would get her more alimony." She searched his face. "Did it?"
"I had a good attorney. He was a former mere with great stealth skills. He had her
watched, and he had her phone tapped. We had evidence that wasn't admissible in
court, but it was enough to frighten her into taking a lump-sum payment. She
agreed, I cut the check, and I haven't seen her since."
"Do you still...think about her?" Tippy asked, having avoided the question she
wanted most to ask him—if he still
loved the woman. "Sometimes," he confessed, and he smiled at her. "But not with pleasure or any lingering desire. I feel as if I had a lucky escape." She smiled back at him, relieved. "How did you end up in Jacobsville?"
"I couldn't settle down as a Ranger, so I applied for the only job going at the Houston D.A.'s office, as a cybercrime expert. I'd had a lot of experience as a hacker while I was doing those odd jobs for military entities." He shook his head. "But it didn't work out. I was even more of an outsider there. I didn't seem to be able to fit in anywhere. My reputation followed me around."
He looked down at her with a faint smile before he continued. "I was forever
running into men who knew me. They exaggerated some of the things I'd done, and
the fact that I kept to myself made it all the more believable." His thumb stroked her
long fingernails absently. "Just when I thought I might re-enlist in the army, my cousin
Chet came to see me in Houston and asked if I'd be interested in a job as assistant
police chief here in Jacobsville. That was before Ben Brady became acting mayor, or
I'd never have been hired. But the then-mayor and the city council voted me in
unanimously, with Chet's approval. I've been here ever since."
"No hankering to leave and go back to the wild life?" she queried softly. "Some," he had to admit. He looked down at her in his arms, so beautiful, so warm and soft-skinned. He felt a lump in his throat. "Until just recently," he added in a deep, husky tone. Her eyes glistened. "Why?" He shrugged, glancing at her slender hand pressing into his shirtfront while he caressed her hand. "I don't know. My life has changed since you and Rory came into it, especially since you both came to Jacobsville. I feel as if I'm part of a family, for the first time in my life." She didn't usually cry. But she was still feeling fragile from the afternoon's ordeal, and the words knocked the breath out of her. Did he mean what she thought he did? He saw the tears overflowing her eyes, making wet paths down her cheeks. He scowled. "What's wrong?"
'That's how I feel," she confessed. "And Rory, too."
He felt light-headed and smiled absently. "Do you?"
She nodded.
He hugged her close and bent to kiss her. It was the most tender caress she'd had in her life. She returned it, with the same tenderness. He closed his eyes. He felt as if he'd come home. She rested her cheek on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
Rory peeked in the door. "Oops! Sorry...!"
Cash laughed. "Come back here," he said. Tippy sat up, her eyes a little red, but still smiling. "What is it?" Cash asked. Rory wiggled both
eyebrows. "There's an old Bela Lugosi vampire movie on..." "Vampire movie," Cash exclaimed, almost dumping poor Tippy as he got to his feet. "Sorry, baby," he said gently, "but I'm a Bela Lugosi fanatic..."
Tippy's lips fell open. "You are?" she exclaimed. "Really?"
"They're her favorites," Rory interjected.
They exchanged quick glances. "Popcorn?" Cash asked hopefully.
"Microwave," she agreed and ran to put it on. The day, so stressful, had become magic.
Tippy knew somewhere deep down that she and Cash had a future. She'd never been so
certain of anything. She looked at him as he went into the living room with Rory, one arm
around the boy's shoulder. He paused just long enough to look back at her and wink. The
walls were coming down, she thought. TIPPY HAD THOUGHT that her unsought fame as a frying-pan wielder would be a one-day wonder. But the furor didn't die down, and two days later, a tabloid broke the story of Tippy's hand-to-frying-pan fight with the third kidnapper, who'd been arrested and carried back to New York City by two federal marshals who were still laughing when they drove away.
But the story was a great deal more intimate than Tippy had expected. A local physician, Dr. Lou Coltrain, had stated for the record that Miss Moore had lost her child through the cruel actions of a nameless assistant director on the film she was currently working on. Coltrain had asserted that Tippy's agony at the loss was punctuated. Joel Harper had been called as well to contribute to the story. Harper told the tabloid that Miss Moore was so important to the film that they refused to resume shooting until she was completely well. Furthermore, Mr. Harper added, he was already having the script altered to reflect her innovative frying-pan defense against a fictional intruder in the movie. Even the wire services picked up the story, because it was in the Jacobsville paper as well as the Houston and San Antonio papers.
There was one last comment, from Jacobsville's police chief Cash Grier, that he and Miss Moore were to be married within the month.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TIPPY COULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT she was reading. Cash couldn't mean a real marriage. Not after he'd said so many times that he'd never remarry. Shocked, she sat down with the tabloid in her hands and reread the whole story.
"Your third kidnapper is safely locked away until the trial," Cash told her, his hands deep in his pockets. "But your reputation has taken some heat because of that assistant director. I've had a long talk with some people I know. There won't be any more attempts at character assassination from that quarter, at least. Dr. Lou Coltrain and I cooked up this story to repair the damage."
"Isn't it a little.. .drastic?" she wondered aloud.
"What? Blacklisting that arrogant little pipsqueak who worked for Joel Harper?" he wondered aloud.
"No! Thank you for that," she said, diverted. "I was thinking about the engagement...and this says," she added, reading the smaller print, "that we're getting married immediately!"
His dark eyes met hers. "We don't have any more secrets between us. I know all about you. And you know all about me. I have job security and money in several foreign banks. But even if I didn't, I've got a strong back and I'm not afraid of hard work. I can pull my half of the financial responsibilities. Rory can stay with us, unless he's overly keen on spending the next eight years in a military school."
She could hardly get her breath. "I must be asleep," she whispered.
"Dreaming, or having a nightmare?" he wondered aloud.
"Definitely dreaming," she whispered, her cheeks just faintly flushed as she looked at him with ardent pleasure. "I can't believe it!"
He relaxed. The look on her face, ardent and surprised and joyful, made him feel warm all over. He smiled. "Want me to go down on one knee? Or is that your role? Got a ring for me, yet?"
She faltered, until she remembered the byplay about her courting him over the past few weeks. "I didn't think you wanted one," she hedged.
"In that case, you'll have to go shopping. But for the time being..."
He moved forward, dug in his pocket and pulled out a black jeweler's box. He opened it. Inside were an emerald solitaire surrounded by diamonds and a matching band mingling emeralds and diamonds in yellow gold. "One more thing," he added, producing a marriage license. "I've already had my blood test, and I got the results of the blood test that Lou Coltrain did when she checked you over with the specialist from San Antonio who flew down for your follow-up exam last week."
"I still can't understand how you got him to come to me," she said absently. "He and Micah Steele are old friends," he said without adding anything else. "So we have a marriage license and a date with the probate judge day after tomorrow," he said smugly. "All you have to do is say yes. I'll take care of everything else." She just stared at the marriage license and the rings blankly, her heart thundering in her chest. She reached out and touched the rings blindly. "I never even dared to hope that this might happen," she whispered, looking up at him with her heart in her eyes. He bent and kissed her tenderly, his lips lingering on hers. His heart raced wildly. He kissed her again. "You know everything about me," he whispered huskily, "and you didn't run. Could I risk losing a woman who not only is willing to take me as I am, but also a woman who can lay out an armed criminal with an iron skillet? You're a living legend already!"
She chuckled warmly, reaching up to hold him close. "I'll take care of you all my life," she whispered tenderly.
He flushed a little. "That was my line."
"We'll take care of each other, then," she murmured, drawing his face down. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but he hadn't mentioned love. She was too insecure to start blurting out her feelings just yet. "Are you sure?" she added solemnly.
"I'm sure." He drew her up against him, wrapped her tight to his hard body, and kissed her with a breathless passion that made her knees buckle. "Glory!" he breathed, before he deepened the kiss and backed her up against the kitchen table. "Tippy...!"
Incredibly, she was on her back among the remains of lunch, with Cash bearing her down hungrily.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed with her last sane breath.
"Guess," he ground out against her warm mouth.
She felt fabric give and fastenings snap open. She was trying gamely to marshal her reason. Someone might walk in the door. Rory might come home. The house might be bugged....
Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids as she felt him impale her. Her eyes opened wide and looked straight up into his. She gasped at the deep, fierce movement of his hips. He was watching her face. His eyes were narrow, blazing with desire. His hands were under her back, holding her, while his body moved in and took full possession of her.
She didn't have enough breath to question what was happening. She was incandescent with pleasure. Her legs opened wider to admit him. Her hips lifted in a shivering arch to meet with his.
It had been so long since he'd touched her with intent. She ached for him. Her face mirrored her rapt delight, her body followed every quick, sharp movement. She was climbing up into the sky. Her body was ablaze with life, with pleasure.
"I must be.. .out of my mind!" he bit off, and then he groaned as pleasure sliced into him like a knife. "Oh...God...Tippy! I need you...!"
"I need you, too," she gasped. "So much, Cash, so much, so much!"
"Show me, baby," he breathed, brushing her mouth with his as the movement of his body became insistent, urgent, desperate. "Show me."
Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. When she had it open, over a mat of thick black hair and warm muscle, she jerked up her own blouse and bra and lifted to rub her breasts against his chest.
He groaned harshly. His eyes bit into hers as he drove for fulfillment blindly. The rasp of his breath mingled with the sharp little moans pulsing out of her tight throat. "Oh...please," she ground out, shivering now with every quick motion of his hips. "Please, please...!" His eyes closed as he went still above her for a second and then drove downward
with the last of his strength. He sailed off over a precipice, gasped, and began to shudder rhythmically as he moaned hoarsely at her ear.
She was pulsing with him, drowning in the silky pleasure that washed over her like a throbbing wave of heat. She was making high-pitched little noises, her nails biting wildly into his back as she surrendered completely to his possession.
"I can feel you," she sobbed. "I can feel you, inside me..."
He groaned again as the words enhanced his pleasure. "You're part of me," he breathed. "And I'm part of you. You're so soft, baby. Soft and warm, like a cocoon around me. It's never been like this."
"Not for me, either," she whispered back, clinging to him in the silky aftermath. "Not even our first time together."
