Forbidden

by Janelle Denison

  “Taking on a lover is hardly an everyday occurrence for me,” she said in a low, heated voice while smiling to Janice, the woman who owned the hair salon next to her shop and was currently eyeballing the two of them with interest.

  “If anybody questions the employees in the shops around yours I’d like them to be able to verify that you’re seeing someone.”

  She understood his purpose, she truly did, but she hated broadcasting that she and Josh had actually become lovers. Especially when she was desperately trying to put their relationship back into proper perspective, which didn’t include the illusion of having an affair.

  Since they were early, Josh hung out for half an hour, passing the time by strolling around the boutique filled with women’s clothing, lingerie and accessories while Paige counted out the cash drawer and readied the shop for the day.

  Liz arrived first, surprising Paige by looking exactly like the kind of sophisticated salesperson she herself would have hired for the Wild Rose. The young woman was tall and slender-not at all the muscular type Paige had anticipated-and was dressed immaculately in an outfit that could have been selected from Paige’s own inventory: cream slacks, a rose-hued silk blouse with a light, linen jacket, and fashionable leather pumps. Liz’s rich, sable hair was cut into a short, chic style that emphasized her pretty features and striking blue eyes.

  Paige immediately felt comfortable with the other woman, who was friendly and outgoing, despite the grimness of her occupation and the seriousness surrounding her current assignment. When Paige jokingly commented that Liz looked about as intimidating as a butterfly, Josh assured her that Liz was well trained, and one of the best female undercover officers they had in the department.

  Pam entered the Wild Rose shortly after Liz, and because she’d been with Paige from the day she’d opened the boutique, and Paige trusted her implicitly, Josh briefed the younger woman on the situation. He skimmed the more dangerous, relevant details he’d shared with Paige, explaining just enough for Pam to understand the need for Paige to be guarded, yet not enough to put her own life at risk for knowing too much.

  By the time Josh was ready to leave, Paige was ready to see him go. Her stomach was in knots, and the beginnings of a headache throbbed at her temples. This entire scenario had her feeling cornered, edgy and irritable. She walked with him just outside the boutique, and they stood beneath the awning above the shop.

  “I’ve got a lot to take care of today on the case,” Josh said, retrieving her car keys from the front pocket of his black jeans. “I’ll be back at closing time to pick you up.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you’re leaving me here without a vehicle?”

  “If you need to go anywhere, Liz will take you. That’s what she’s here for.”

  She opened her mouth to issue a mild objection out of pure defiance. At the same moment, he curled a hand around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his He kissed her, taking advantage of her parted lips to boldly slide his tongue inside her mouth. The kiss was quick, but hot, shockingly erotic, and extremely possessive. The emotional impact shook Paige to the core made her melt against him when she knew she should make some attempt to push him away.

  He ended the kiss, and she was horrified to hear a whimper of protest purr from her throat. He looked extremely pleased with himself, cocky and arrogant and triumphant.

  She straightened away, grasping for her composure “Was that necessary?” she asked primly.

  His grin was unapologetic. “Oh, yeah, it was,” he said huskily, unmistakable desire brightening his eyes. “Not only have I had the urge to kiss you the past two days, but to anyone who might be watching, like that nosy lady in the hair shop next door, we look like legitimate lovers.”

  She was in trouble, she realized, instinctively knowing that kiss had been more than a charade. It was neant as a reminder of the intimacy they’d shared-one he wasn’t about to let her forget.

  He brushed his knuckles down her cheek in a loving caress at odds with the sudden seriousness of his gaze. ‘Now go back inside and be good for Liz.”

  The order made her bristle, but she obeyed. There was no point starting an argument with Josh while they had an audience. Without so much as a goodbye, she went back into the boutique and headed to her office to take care of the most important business she had on her agenda. Setting her briefcase on her rolltop oak desk, the opened it and searched for the file she needed.

  “So, you finally hooked up with Josh, huh?”

  Paige glanced up sharply from her task, watching as Pam entered her office. Other than Josh, Pam was one of he closest friends she had in Miami, though she’d shared very few of her marital problems with the other woman. However, considering that the rare times Pam had met Anthony he’d been hostile, rude and hardly a loving husband, it wouldn’t have been difficult for anyone to deduce that her relationship with Anthony had been strained. But for Pam to make a comment about her and Josh was a little unsettling.

  “It’s not what it seems.” Finding the folder she needed, she set her briefcase back on the mauve carpetng beside her desk. “That kiss you witnessed is just a pretense,” she said, striving for a vagueness she didn’t quite feel, not when that breath-stealing embrace still had her heart pumping faster than normal. “Nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh,” Pam said, her expression doubtful. “But it didn’t seem like either one of you had to pretend too much.”

  “Excuse me?” she croaked, praying that her feelings for Josh hadn’t been so obvious from just a kiss.

  Her prayers went unanswered. “There’s always beer something between you and Josh, a rare kind of chemistry you don’t see between two people very often.”

  Oh, God. “You know, this is something I’d rather no discuss.” It was bad enough that she was feeling a subtle pressure from Josh; she didn’t need it from Pam, too

  “I understand.” Pam smiled and shrugged. “I just thought you’d finally realized that the guy is absolutely crazy about you.”

  Paige knew. Her chest burned with the knowledge Oh, Lord, Josh had made his feelings and intentions plain with every touch, every word, every action since the night they’d made love.

  He is completely and totally wrong for me, she wanted to explain. He’s a cop, a man more dedicated to his job than he ever could be to me or a family.

  But her biggest fears remained lodged in her throat and Pam finally left her office, dosing the door behind her. And because she knew that she had no future with Josh, that to remain in Miami would only cause her more heartache, she flipped open the file folder and searched for the business card she’d tucked in there a few weeks ago.

  Then she reached for the phone and forced herself to dial the Realtor’s phone number.

  5

  JOSH BROUGHT Paige’s Volvo to an abrupt stop in the driveway of her beach house. On some level, he acknowledged that the For Sale sign posted on the front lawn shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering the revelations of the past week, but he was more than a little irritated that she hadn’t thought to share this momentous decision with him.

  The woman sitting in the passenger seat next to him stared straight ahead, waiting for him to park the car in the garage, as was their nightly routine. She looked poised and distant, as if putting her house up for sale was nothing out of the ordinary.

  His world had ceased being ordinary the night she’d asked him to make love to her. Everything she did, every decision she made, now affected the way his life, his future, would evolve. Apparently, she didn’t feel the same, and that provoked his temper. Her indifference had to be a farce. A woman didn’t give herself to a man the way Paige had so passionately offered herself to him without establishing some kind of emotional bond.

  Keeping a tight rein on his darkening mood so he didn’t say or do something he’d regret later, he let the car roll forward into the garage. Before he could shut down the engine, Paige slipped out of the vehicle without a word, her purse and brief
case in hand. She pressed a code on the keypad on the wall that unlocked the door leading into the house and disabled the alarm. With a gentle sway of her hips beneath that coral-hued, straight-line knit dress she wore, she stepped inside, leaving the door open for him to follow.

  Blowing out a harsh breath, he exited the car, shut the rolling garage door, and strode into the house in search of Paige. Judging by her hasty retreat, he knew she planned on avoiding him and the inevitable discussion ahead. He’d allowed her to maintain her distance since Monday, hadn’t pressured her the past three days for more than she was willing to give. He’d acted as professional and courteous as his job required, catering to her remote behavior and putting his own needs aside.

  Not this time. As he followed the sounds drifting from the kitchen, he discovered he was itching for a confrontation. He wanted answers, and he intended to get them. He wanted to know where he stood with her. The evening wouldn’t end until he found out.

  In the kitchen, Paige was pouring herself a glass of wine. It was an evening ritual-one glass of chardonnay, retreating to her bedroom for a long bath and to change, a quiet dinner, about an hour of TV, then bed.

  He was tired of the monotony. Tired of avoiding important issues that affected both of their lives. Tired of lying in bed at night beside her-so close, so tempting-yet unable to pull her soft, responsive body beneath his as he longed to.

  Tossing the keys onto the counter, he let his frustration get the best of him. “Why didn’t you tell me you listed the house?”

  She stiffened at his demanding question, though she didn’t turn around and look at him. With incredibly steady hands, she recorked the bottle of wine, slipped it back into the refrigerator, and returned to the glass she’d left on the counter. “I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to put the house up for sale.”

  He jammed his hands on his hips, not that his fierce stance had much chance of intimidating the woman who stood with her back to him, looking out the kitchen window as she took a sip of wine. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it,” he said in a low voice.

  Her shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “I didn’t think selling my house was any of your concern.”

  Not any of his concern? Her sharp-edged comment hit below the belt, prompting a fury that boiled just beneath the surface of his skin-until he recognized her defense tactic. Enough words, he wanted to see her eyes. They’d never lied to him before. “Dammit, Paige, look at me.”

  She turned around, chin up, her auburn hair swinging sassily along her shoulders with the defiant movement. Vibrant green eyes glared in reply to his gruff command, but there was something else beyond the anger, a heart-deep misery he’d seen too many times in the past to dismiss. An emotion that never failed to make his protective instincts come alive.

  This tense moment was no different, but as much as he wanted to reach out and touch her, he knew she wouldn’t welcome the connection. He wanted answers, needed to know her reasons for making such a crucial decision that affected both of their lives, possibly even their future together. He had to know what her intentions were.

  Treading cautiously, he said quietly, “Why are you selling the house?”

  “You have to ask, after everything that’s happened the past week?” Her tone was high-pitched and incredulous. Before he could respond, she continued, “Not only does this place now make me feel uncomfortable, but it was always Anthony’s house, never mine. He designed and furnished it before I became part of his life.” She dragged her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. Her eyes looked huge, her features weary. “And it’s too big for one person. The upkeep is more than I need right now.”

  Relief coursed through him. Her rationalization made perfect sense, of course. He’d read too much into the sign out front, had reacted without knowing the facts, which wasn’t like him at all. “I’d be more than happy to help you find something else. Maybe a nice condo that’s closer to the Wild Rose.”

  “Josh…” Looking away again, she dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and continued on a rush of breath, “I put the Wild Rose up for sale, too.”

  Josh’s entire universe shifted, and his heart slammed painfully against his ribs. He didn’t like where this conversation was heading, or what her decisions implied. He kept a casual attitude, though he was feeling anything but. “Why would you want to sell the Wild Rose? Your shop is one of the most successful boutiques on Harding Avenue.”

  “Yeah, it’s done quite well in the two years I’ve had it,” she agreed, a small, satisfied smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “And it helped me keep my sanity. Without it, I would have gone crazy with boredom. But like my marriage to Anthony, the Wild Rose is a piece of my life I’d rather put behind me. I’ve lived, I’ve learned, and as soon as this case of yours is over, I’m moving on, a wiser person,” she said, reciting her father’s quote. Lifting her glass of wine from the counter, she headed out of the kitchen and through the living room, putting an end to their conversation.

  Standing there in the silence, he thought about all she’d said, and what she hadn’t said. Deciding he wasn’t going to let the subject drop so easily, not when he didn’t have a firm grasp on her intentions, he stalked after her. Ignoring the closed bedroom door, he barged into her room unannounced.

  She stood by the dresser. She’d just kicked off her heels and was in the process of unbuttoning the front of her dress. Visibly startled by his bold intrusion, she gasped, then scowled at him. “Do you mind, Josh? I’d like a little privacy.”

  “Oh, I mind all right,” he murmured as he moved toward her, his gaze riveted to the five buttons she’d opened, low enough to reveal the scalloped edges of a lacy bra, and the firm upper slopes of her breasts. He forced himself to drag his eyes from that enticement before he forgot his purpose for seeking her out. “You walked away before we were done talking.”

  She watched him invade her room, wariness glimmering in the depths of her eyes. “There’s not a whole lot left to say.”

  He stopped an arm’s length away and saw the pulse at the base of her throat flutter nervously. “You left out a little detail.”

  “Oh?” A delicate brow arched. “And what was that?” She took a subtle step to the side, as if he stood too close, crowding her personal space. As if she wanted clearance to bolt…

  He wasn’t about to give her the chance. Calculating her next move, he shifted the weight of his body accordingly, letting her know without words that there would be no escaping him, or their conversation.

  “Moving on to where, Paige?” His voice was soft, de ceptively so.

  Since she couldn’t dart around him, she turned away hiding her expression and those luminous eyes that radiated her deepest emotions. Slipping off the bracele made of incandescent beads that complemented the color of her dress, she set it on the dresser, then re moved the matching earrings. Very quietly, she said “I’ve decided to move back home to Connecticut, so can be near my family.”

  Outwardly, Josh accepted her bombshell with admi- rable calm. Inwardly, however, panic spread through him, sending his pulse racing.

  He didn’t want to lose Paige!

  But you never really had her, the rational part of his mind argued. Even though his feelings for her had de- veloped into something stronger and deeper thai friendship, they’d made no personal commitment to each other, nothing to indicate they had any kind of future together. All they had was one incredible night on passion…

  He grasped for leverage, focusing on the one thing that would drastically change both of their lives. “And what if you’re pregnant with my baby?”

  She whirled around, startled, eyes wide. Her hand fluttered to her flat belly, and when she realized what she’d done, she quickly jerked it away. “I’m not preg nant,” she said firmly.

  “Oh?” His tone challenged. “Have you started your period?”

  She hesitated, but in the end couldn’t lie. “Not yet.”

  “The
day after we made love you said you were due to start soon.” He studied her intently. “Are you regular?”

  Her face flushed, whether in embarrassment or annoyance at his persistence, he wasn’t sure. “I haven’t been regular since I went off the Pill when Anthony died,” she admitted. “But I know my body, and I’m not pregnant.”

  He wondered who she was trying to convince-him or herself.

  She moved past him, while he digested what she’d just told him. She opened the glass slider leading to the deck that wrapped around the house, leaving the screen door locked and secured. A cool evening breeze blew in, circulating fresh air through the room. The low rumbling of waves breaking along the shore echoed in the distance, the sound tranquil and soothing.

  He came up beside her, his mood calmer than before. He’d gotten most of the answers he’d wanted, but another still niggled, and he voiced it. “You were on the Pill while you were married?”

  She glanced at him, a droll smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “That’s not something a woman broadcasts, Marchiano, even to a good friend.”

  He shook his head, realizing she’d misconstrued his meaning. “You talked about having kids and a family, and I just assumed you would have welcomed a pregnancy.”

  “I’m afraid that was wishful thinking on my part. During our first year of marriage a huge part of me thought a baby would make Anthony settle down, make him less reckless…” Her voice trailed off. After a moment, her gaze flickered to his, her expression etched with the same unhappiness that had shadowed the last two years of her marriage. “About nine months after we married, Anthony insisted I go on the Pill. He claimed he wasn’t ready for kids and he didn’t want to risk an ‘accident.’ Looking back, going on the Pill was a blessing in disguise, considering the life-style Anthony led outside of our marriage. I’m grateful I don’t have children to worry about right now, and I sure as heck wouldn’t want to have to explain that their father was a criminal.”