“No.” It was the same answer he’d given her the first time she’d asked for a divorce. He didn’t want her because he loved and cherished her. No, Anthony always had a compulsion to be in control, and that meant domineering her life, as well.
Without another word on the subject, he’d packed his duffel bag and was gone within the hour. By the end of the day she’d contacted a lawyer and begun divorce proceedings. A few days later, a dissolution of the marriage had no longer been necessary. Anthony had made her a widow.
Josh sat beside her on the couch, nearest to the gun on the end table, and took a drink of his black coffee. Then his gaze met hers. “Did Anthony tell you anything at all about the case he was working on?”
Looking away from those dark eyes that seemed to penetrate too deeply, she reached for her own coffee and took a sip of the sweetened brew. Instead of setting the cup back down, she kept her fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic mug. “He never discussed his cases with me, and I learned never to ask.”
Whenever she’d expressed an interest in his work, he would snap at her and use the excuse that his cases weren’t up for discussion. It wasn’t that she wanted to know details, she only sought to understand the appeal of Anthony’s driving need to work on dangerous, undercover cases.
When Josh made no comment, she risked a glance at him, disturbed by the enmity touching his expression and the tense set of his shoulders. Carefully, she set her mug on the coffee table in front of her. “Josh, what’s going on?”
He blew out a rough breath, set his coffee cup next to hers, and dragged his fingers though his still damp hair. He muttered a raw expletive, then said, “Anthony’s death wasn’t an accident.”
She frowned. It took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in. When it did, her stomach churned. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate, yet she found herself choking out in a voice barely above a whisper, “You mean he was…murdered?”
Josh’s gaze held a wealth of sympathy and compassion, but he didn’t soften his reply. “Yes.”
“Dear Lord,” she breathed in horror. The finality of that one word rocked her world, made her mentally grope for answers to put this recent revelation into perspective. “But you told me nobody knew Anthony was an undercover officer.”
“They didn’t, Paige, I swear.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his hard thighs, his gaze holding hers. “According to the men still undercover on the case, the bad guys still don’t know Anthony was a cop.”
“I don’t understand.” Paige struggled to decipher what Josh was telling her, but her muddled mind refused to accept the truth. “If they didn’t know Anthony was a plant, why would they kill him?”
He gave her question a moment’s consideration. “I think you’d have a better understanding of the situation if I started from the beginning.”
“Please do.” She was beyond caring that she sounded haughty and demanding; she desperately wanted this awful turn of events to make some kind of sense.
Josh stood and went to the fireplace, a restless energy surrounding him. He tossed more logs on the grate and a burst of sparks filtered up the chimney. Taking the poker, he repositioned the wood, giving the chore more attention than it warranted.
“Josh, make me understand,” she pleaded.
Rubbing at the rigid muscles at the base of his neck, he glanced over his shoulder at her. The deep frown creasing his brows gave her the distinct impression he wanted to be anywhere but here, briefing her on the facts surrounding Anthony’s death.
“Anthony went undercover on this particular case to infiltrate a jewel-smuggling ring that has been trafficking rare and exotic gems into the Keys,” he explained, his voice low and threaded with an odd reluctance. “Anthony’s main objective was to get as close to the mob boss as possible. Our hope was that he’d be trusted enough to become a runner, someone they would involve in the actual smuggling. We needed that so we could bust the bad guys in the actual act of importing the jewels, which would give us enough evidence to prosecute.”
Paige pushed her thick fall of hair away from her face with a slightly shaking hand. What Josh described was exactly the kind of classified work she imagined Anthony did, full of risk and a dangerous, deadly kind of thrill.
She had a sudden understanding of how ignorance could be bliss.
“The man heading the organization, Victor Carranza, was very elusive, and Anthony had a difficult time establishing a relationship with him.” Josh jabbed the logs one last time before setting the brass poker back in its stand. Then he turned around and faced her. “There’s a woman who works for Carranza. Her name is Bridget, and she’s one of his runners. Since Anthony had little luck with Carranza himself, he switched tactics and decided to focus his attention on Bridget. It didn’t take Anthony long to get close to her. Within a couple of weeks, Anthony knew most of Carranza’s contacts.”
He started toward her, his gaze troubled, yet bright with determination. Sitting on the cushion next to her, he gently grabbed her hand, holding it within his palm. Though his fingers were warm, a startling chill thinned her blood.
“Paige…” He cut himself off, a muscle in his lean jaw flexing. “Christ, there’s no easy way to say this.”
A peculiar combination of anticipation and unease tripped up her pulse. “Say what, Josh?”
Regret softened his features, and he stroked his fingers along her hand. The display of solace only served to unnerve her.
He let out a slow breath, his mouth thinning in displeasure. “From what we’ve learned, Anthony was having an affair with her-”
Snatching her hand from his grasp, she bolted off the couch and crossed the room. Standing by the fireplace, her back to Josh, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her middle, doing her best to hold herself together. She hadn’t bargained for the more sordid details of Anthony’s undercover assignment, never would have guessed Josh would be the one to force her to deal with issues she’d deliberately tried to ignore.
So, Anthony had been having an affair. Josh’s announcement shouldn’t have surprised her, or hurt as much as it did. She’d had her suspicions before Anthony died. They hadn’t made love in months, and he hadn’t so much as kissed her or touched her beyond necessary contact. She’d chalked up his remoteness to stress on the job, until she’d discovered three foil packets in the inside pocket of his leather bomber jacket. What did he need condoms for when he’d insisted she go on the Pill? When she’d confronted him with the evidence, he’d laughed and told her the guys at the station must have played a joke on him and planted the prophylactics.
Knowing he’d deny any wrongdoing, she found it difficult to argue with his convenient excuse. Ultimately, she hadn’t believed him.
Since his death, she had made more discoveries, and had found irrefutable evidence of his infidelity: creditcard purchases for women’s lingerie, jewelry and other feminine frivolities she’d never received, charges for elegant hotel suites she’d never enjoyed with her husband, and expensive dinners at five-star restaurants she’d never been to.
Now one of the women he’d cavorted with had a name. The sense of betrayal twisting through her was excruciating.
The weight of Josh’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, and she flinched at his touch. She’d been so lost in her own unsettling thoughts she hadn’t realized he’d come up behind her.
“I’m so sorry, Paige,” he said, his voice contrite, but fueled by an underlying purpose. “The woman Anthony was having an affair with-”
Abruptly, she jerked away, whirled around to face him, and held up a hand to waylay his words. “I don’t want to hear this!”
He braced his hands on his hips and glowered at her, all previous signs of gentleness and understanding gone. The firelight painted his skin a warm gold hue, made his dark, silky hair gleam, giving him the appearance of a merciless, fierce warrior. “You don’t have a choice.” His tone was succinct and brooked no compromise.
“What Anth
ony did, and with whom, is now a moot point,” she snapped, her emotions frayed. “He’s dead!”
“What Anthony did was steal a valuable diamond-and-emerald necklace!” he shot back, his tone just as loud and angry.
She gasped in shock and reeled back. Denial came just as swiftly. “You’re wrong!” Her voice cracked, right along with a chunk of her composure. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe what he was saying. “Goddammit, Josh, you’re wrong!”
“I wish to hell I was, Paige.” He stepped toward her, and when she backed up out of his reach, he swore. “Anthony stole the Ivanov necklace from a collection of jewels that was smuggled in from Russia. The diamonds and emeralds in that necklace are reportedly worth over a million dollars, and Anthony stole it from the woman he was having an affair with before she could hand the collection over to Carranza. They knew the piece was missing, but it took Carranza a few weeks to track down who’d taken it. All traces led back to Anthony.”
Tears burned the back of her throat and stung her eyes. She choked on a sob she couldn’t hold back. “You’re lying!” Her accusation lacked conviction, but she wanted so badly for this moment in time to be nothing more than a nightmare, a trick of her imagination.
But Josh had never lied to her before.
“The investigation has been concluded and the facts confirmed by the men still working undercover on the case,” Josh ruthlessly went on. “The woman set him up for that explosion in the boat. Carranza found out he’d taken the Ivanov necklace, and when he denied it, they killed him. They had no idea he was a cop-”
Unable to listen to any more, incapable of understanding her husband’s multiple deceptions, she let out a deep, guttural cry that was ripped from the depths of her soul. “Nooo!” She came at Josh, fists flailing, striking out at him for every one of her husband’s indiscretions, his betrayal, his disloyalty. “No, no, no!” All at once her blows landed on his chest, his arms, his shoulder. A crack resounded as her fist unexpectedly connected with his jaw.
“Dammit,” he bit out, and caught her wrists, the strength of his grasp easily restraining her.
She stopped thrashing, tilted her head back and looked into Josh’s eyes. They were filled with the same haunting emotions that gripped her. She realized that Anthony’s actions had hurt him, too.
Oh, God, she felt so torn, disillusioned, and so painfully, horribly alone. Then the dam broke, the sheer magnitude of her anguish wracking her body with great soul-wrenching sobs.
Without a word, knowing what she needed, Josh pulled her into his arms, cradled her against his chest and held her while she purged herself of all her pent-up grief and rage. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing words as her tears dampened his skin, but not once did he tell her everything was going to be all right.
“Why, Josh?” she whispered achingly, once the worst of her emotional barrage had ebbed. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look into his eyes, seeking more answers. “What did I do wrong?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Josh whispered, their faces so close she could feel the caress of his warm breath on her lips. Lifting his hand, he brushed his knuckles tenderly across her cheek, wiping away the last of the moisture lingering there. “It was nothing you did. It was just the way Anthony was.”
She was beginning to understand that, but it didn’t lessen the pain of his duplicity. “I never really knew him.”
“I don’t think any of us did,” he admitted. Drawing in a steadying lungful of air that expanded his chest, he went on in a rush, “Paige, there’s more I need to tell you.”
Her stomach clenched, and before she could think about what she was doing, she pressed her fingers over his lips. “No, Josh,” she said in a ragged voice. “Please, no.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring that she was clinging, because it felt so good to be held like this, as if she meant something to someone.
It had been so long.
“Ah, Paige…” A shudder rippled the length of him and she sensed that self-control of his slip; she could feel his acquiescence in the way his breathing deepened, the way his hands slowly, languidly slid down her spine and gripped her hips-not to push her away, but to bring her closer still.
The awareness they’d fought to suppress for years sizzled to life between them-a need so compelling it shook Paige to the very core.
Turning her head, she let her lashes drift shut and inhaled Josh’s clean male scent. A deep, forgotten longing stole through her, and she boldly skimmed her lips along his jaw, tasting his skin, seeking a more elemental comfort, a more primal contact.
She needed this affirmation of her existence. She needed to feel alive, wanted and desired. Swallowing her pride, she told him in a soft, husky whisper, “I need you, Josh.”
A rough groan rumbled in his chest and he touched his soft, warm mouth to hers. The gesture started out as a chaste kiss, tentative and searching, until she parted her lips under the coaxing heat of his own. Then, the tenor changed. So did all the rules they’d lived by for the past three years.
His tongue daringly breached barriers he’d never explored before, gliding deeply, erotically into uncharted territory to stake a claim. His claim. Her mouth was just as insatiable, opening wider to receive the seductive thrust of his tongue, to welcome the heat and unbridled hunger exploding between them. Her head spun, and she tingled with the wonderful sensation of being desired. Slipping her fingers into the silky hair at his nape, she arched sinuously against him.
A strong arm slid around her back, cradling her within his embrace, making her feel sheltered and protected. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and her nipples tightened against the lacy webbing of her bra. His other hand roamed lower, beneath the hem of her sweater, to cup her bottom, nudging her intimately closer. The press of his erection between them sparked a thrill of arousal that pooled in her belly and between her thighs.
She moaned into his mouth. Need rose swiftly, overwhelming in its power, making the entire length of her body quiver. But the ache in her heart, the one she’d lived with for what felt like an eternity, was still too sharp, still too acute.
She wanted it to go away. Wanted to forget everything but the luxurious pleasure Josh’s touch evoked. If only for this one night, she didn’t want to think, she wanted to feel.
Josh dragged his mouth from Paige’s and nuzzled the fragrant curve of her neck, found the silky hollow beneath her ear with his mouth.
For too long he’d imagined what it would be like to kiss Paige with unrestrained passion and have her respond with such eagerness and fire…fantasized in the darkest hours of the night about making love to her, possessing her heart, body and soul.
Now that temptation beckoned him. She beckoned him.
Lifting his head and loosening his hold, he stared into green eyes glittering with desire, and so much need. So much anguish. Those vulnerable emotions threatened his restraint, because he wanted to ease her pain any way he could. And right now, she wanted the tenderness of human touch to wipe away the ugliness.
His touch.
He was close to giving in. His honorable intentions wavered within him, playing tug-of-war with the reckless urge to do things to her, with her, he’d only dreamed about.
How could that be right? “Oh, God, Paige…”
“Josh, please,” she begged in a sexy, throaty voice that wreaked havoc with his sanity. She dragged her tongue across her lush bottom lip, pink and swollen from his kiss.
The craziness of wanting her started all over again. When he opened his mouth to issue a protest, she cut him off.
“Don’t say anything.” Her beautiful gaze beseeched him in a way no words could. “I need you to make me forget. Just for tonight.” Grasping the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor, leaving her clad in a pretty bra that he could see right through, and leggings that molded to her hips and long legs. Her hair tumbled in tousled, sensual disarray around her shoulders.
Denying her became a dista
nt thought. Loving her and giving her a safe haven for the night became his sole purpose. Holding her gaze, he reached out and slid his fingers from the pulse fluttering in her throat, down the slope of a perfectly curved breast cupped in sheer floral lace, across a taut nipple-and heard her breath catch in her throat-and continued to the front clasp of her bra. He hesitated, knowing with this one action, he was agreeing to her terms.
Just for tonight.
He’d never been one for one-night stands, and his feelings for Paige made what was about to happen even more complicated. But he couldn’t walk away. Not when they needed each other so much.
With a flick of his thumb and index finger he unhooked her bra, watching as the sides separated to reveal pale mounds of flesh tipped with dark centers. His gut clenched, and he spontaneously buried both hands in her thick, luxurious hair and brought her mouth back to his.
He meant to go slow and savor every kiss, every sigh, every nuance of what made her so special, so sweet. He meant to wallow in her softness, her feminine scent, her response to his touch. He meant to show her just how much she meant to him, and take the time to worship her with his hands, his mouth, his sex.
Those good intentions fled the moment her lips parted beneath his and she sucked his tongue into her mouth. She was too needy to go at a leisurely pace, too out of control to tame. So he let her dictate how far she wanted to go, how wild and fast she wanted this ride to be.
The tempest of the rain and wind outside was nothing compared to the velocity gathering momentum between them. The frenzied way Paige’s hands explored his chest, skimmed down the flat plane of his belly, then tugged impatiently on the drawstring of his sweatpants left Josh no time to think about getting her to a nice, soft bed. Where he took Paige didn’t seem to matter to her. She was too caught up in her own private urgency to care. Her flattened palms smoothed into the waistband, loosening the drawstring, giving her more slack to glide her hands inside to seek warmer, harder flesh.
Knowing he was a goner if she so much as touched his straining erection, he abruptly pulled her with him to the plush carpeting. They ended up on their knees in front of the crackling fire, facing each other, their mouths still fused, tongues mating. He cupped her full breasts and caressed them with his hands, rolled her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered, and tugged at his sweatpants again.
Forbidden Page 3
