Forbidden

by Janelle Denison

  A light gust filtered through the screen, sifting through her hair and tugging gently at the light material of her dress, molding the fabric to her curves. Josh envied that clinging dress, wished it were his hands shaping her firm, generous breasts, skimming over the swell of her hips, grazing the length of her slender thighs…

  “What about the possibility of having my baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

  “That would only complicate matters, Josh.” She released an agitated sigh and paced back into the bedroom. “I’m leaving as soon as things are wrapped up here in Miami. I miss my family, and I miss the simplicity of a small town. It’s where I belong. It’s where I’ve always belonged.” She abruptly stopped beside her four-poster bed, imploring him to understand. “I’m not cut out for the city, the crime, or being a cop’s wife. If I was too naive to know that when I married Anthony, I certainly realize it now.”

  Josh felt that an integral part of his life was crumbling right before his eyes. “Maybe you just need more time before you make a big decision like this,” he suggested, anything to buy time for her to reconsider her options. Options that included him being a part of her life. Options that didn’t include her moving to another state. “It’s only been three months since Anthony died. I know how difficult things have been lately, especially this past week-”

  “My mind is made up, Josh,” she said adamantly, exercising that stubborn streak he both admired and disliked at the moment. “There’s nothing left for me here but bad memories.”

  Fast as lightning, he shot back, “Am I nothing but a bad memory?”

  His blunt question startled her. Then her gaze softened and she reached out and pressed her hand to his cheek, her touch warm and infinitely gentle. “You, Josh, have become one of my best friends, and I care for you more than you’ll ever know,” she whispered in a tight, aching voice. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you these past three years.”

  Incensed beyond reason, he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away, ignoring her startled catch of breath. Goddammit, he wanted more than cordiality and appreciation. More than her gratitude for being around when Anthony hadn’t been, for giving her the affection her own husband had been too self-centered to offer. He wanted her to acknowledge that they meant more to each other than just friends.

  “Josh?”

  Her voice trembled with uncertainty. He knew he should let her go and end this craziness, but he had a desperate, overwhelming need to prove that what they’d spent three years nurturing deserved a fair chance to develop into something deeper and more intimate than what they already shared.

  With a vicious curse, he plowed his free hand into her hair, cradled the back of her head in his palm, and lifted her mouth to his. She tensed and tried to turn away at the last second, but she was no match for his strength, or the need that coursed through his blood. Their lips touched, melded, fused. He wouldn’t accept anything less. His tongue was just as relentless, gliding deep within her mouth to claim, conquer and cajole her compliance.

  Then, even that wasn’t enough. He wanted her total surrender. Wanted to brand her, remind her how sweetly she responded to him, how hot and needy she became beneath his touch.

  Still holding her, still kissing her, he guided her backwards, until the edge of the mattress clipped the back of her legs and she had no choice but to tumble onto the bed. He swallowed her gasp as he followed her down, ignored her feeble struggles as he pushed her higher onto the mattress and wedged a hard, muscular thigh between her knees.

  Her one free hand gripped his shirt-to pull him close or push him away, he wasn’t sure. In an attempt to eliminate the latter possibility, he untangled his fingers from her silky hair, disengaged her hand from his shirt, and single-handedly pinned it with the other above her head.

  Only then did he end that endlessly long, thorough kiss. They were both breathing hard, trying to recover from that wild, dizzying ride. She tugged weakly on her manacled wrists, but he wasn’t done seducing her No, not even close.

  His fingers skillfully, effortlessly, flicked open three more buttons on her dress while his open mouth discovered a soft, ultrasensitive spot along her throat that made her shiver. His tongue skimmed a path to her ear where he murmured his intentions in explicitly shocking detail.

  “No,” she moaned, a paltry protest her mouth, her body, didn’t agree with. Her lips were wet, parted, and lush, receiving his rapacious kisses and returning them with equal fervor. Her body twisted sensually toward his for something more.

  “Oh, yes,” he breathed hotly, burying his face in the warm, fragrant curve of her neck. His fingers unsnapped the front closure of her satin-and-lace bra and pushed the cups aside, baring her to him. He filled his large palm with her plump flesh, grazed his thumb across a nipple until it grew pebble-hard.

  The moment he touched her, she yielded to his caress, grew pliant and just as needy as he. In the depths of her heavy-lidded eyes he saw her succumb, felt her body release all tension and soften with feminine allure.

  That was all the urging it took for him to proceed in making good on the promises he’d whispered in her ear. He dragged his mouth along her collarbone, laved warm, damp kisses on her chest, nipped gently at the slope of her breasts until they swelled and tightened. His tongue lavished the crests with attention, flicking teasingly, lapping temptingly, until finally he drew her nipple deep within his mouth and suckled hungrily.

  A helpless sob caught in her throat, and the hands he’d restrained above her head curled into tight fists, though she didn’t struggle. Her breathing deepened, grew ragged and labored with an unspoken need he understood. His own body hardened, his erection pressing insistently against her thigh. For as much as he wanted to be inside her sleek, giving warmth, tonight, the pleasure was all hers.

  His free hand explored, trailing a burning path over her hip, down her thigh, then swept beneath the hem of her dress. His questing fingertips rasped along silky stockings, sending his blood soaring. As he skimmed higher, stroking the inside of her thighs, her legs gradually, instinctively relaxed and eased apart for him. He had no idea what he’d expected to find, but the delicate lace band holding up her stockings was a delightful and arousing surprise. The three inches of bare skin he caressed next was baby-soft and quivering. And then he reached her panties, a satiny scrap of fabric covering her most feminine secrets. He stroked his fingers along the exquisitely sensitive flesh hidden beneath the flimsy barrier, and experienced supreme satisfaction when heat and dampness greeted his touch.

  Her entire body shuddered at the intimate caress, and her hips rolled upward, seeking a deeper contact. “Josh, please…” she whispered raggedly.

  Lifting his mouth from her breasts, he looked up at her face, flushed with sensual longing. Her eyes were bright and fevered and unfocused. She looked beautiful, and damn exciting, spread so wantonly beneath him.

  “Please what?” he murmured, refusing to give her what her body craved unless she admitted her desire and need for him. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

  She bit her bottom lip and moaned in frustration. Then, seemingly unable to deny her need for him, she told him exactly what she wanted. “Touch me…kiss me…” Love me, her eyes begged.

  He touched her, watching her slowly unravel as he pushed aside the elastic band of her panties, eased a finger inside her, and slicked his thumb along petal-soft folds of flesh.

  He lowered his head and kissed her, a slow, languid melding of lips and tongue that matched the sensual rhythm of his fingers.

  Loving her was the easiest part of all; his feelings came naturally, from the depths of his heart and soul.

  In the next instant she gave him what he ultimately wanted. Her climax was powerful and emotional, making her shudder and cry out for him as the waves of pure, blissful fulfillment engulfed her. When it was over and Paige’s body ceased quivering, Josh released her hands and rested his head just above her breasts, absorbing the
wild beating of her heart that echoed the racing of his pulse. His own body throbbed, but this moment wasn’t about his pleasure and surrender, but hers.

  She knew it, too. “Damn you, Josh,” she said in a low, fierce tone that expressed her anger at the situation, and herself.

  He chuckled lightly, and her nipple tightened as his breath caressed the tip. “Those weren’t quite the words of gratitude I was hoping for.”

  She twined her fingers in his hair, forcing him to lift his head and look at her. “You’re an arrogant bastard.”

  He grew serious, opting for honesty instead of humor. “When it comes to you, yeah, I probably am. I want you to think about everything you’ll be leaving behind if you move back to Connecticut.”

  “Great sex?” she asked flippantly.

  His mouth thinned in annoyance. “What’s between us is more than sex, as hot and fantastic as it is. You know that, even if you won’t admit it.” He smoothed her hair away from her face, the gesture more an excuse to touch her than anything else. “I can’t make the bad memories go away, but I can replace them with good memories if you’ll just give me the chance.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Untangling her fingers from his hair, she moved from beside him and sat on the edge of the mattress. She tugged at the sides of her dress, covering her breasts. “It’s not only about us, or Anthony, but who and what you are, too.”

  “A cop,” he said flatly, finally understanding.

  She nodded, her expression regretful. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  He stood and dragged a hand through his tousled hair. His body was tense from the arousal still thrumming through his veins, and from Paige’s stubborn ideas. “I’m a homicide detective, Paige,” he said, trying to reason with her. “Not a vice cop like Anthony was.”

  “The danger is still there, so is the risk. The gun you wear proves that. This case we’re both involved in proves it.” Her argument was fierce and heated, spurred by her own personal experience. “I can’t go through that again. I want a husband I can count on coming home at night. I want a stable, wholesome environment for my children. And if that’s selfish of me, then so be it.”

  He chose his rebuttal carefully. “I don’t think it’s at all selfish to want those things. But I also know it’s possible to be married to a cop and have a good, stable home life. My parents are proof of that. You’ve met them and can see for yourself how happy they are together. And I don’t think any one of their five kids suffered because my father was a cop.”

  Her chin shot up. “And how many times do you think your mother stayed up all night long while your father was out on patrol or working on a case, wondering if he was going to come home in the morning? Or if she’d find his partner at the door to inform her that her husband had been killed in the line of duty?”

  Her bitter memories were difficult to compete with. “I’m sure, in a lot of ways, my mother felt exactly the way you did.” He’d heard enough complaints from colleagues about the strain their job put on their marriages, many of which didn’t survive the pressure, to know the problem was prevalent in law enforcement. But buckling under the stress didn’t happen to everyone. “My father is a good man, Paige, loyal and scrupulous to a fault. Those traits are what matters when it comes to his devotion to his wife and family. It’s the difference between me and Anthony.”

  She shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do it again, Josh.” Standing, she headed for the adjoining bathroom.

  Desperation gripped him, and he cut straight into her path, halting her. “Paige-”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips, cutting off any further debate. Tears welled in her eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is, okay, Josh?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. Stepping around him, she sequestered herself in the bathroom. After a moment, the sound of running water filling the sunken tub broke the silence.

  Sighing heavily, Josh dropped back onto the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face, mentally berating himself for being such an idiot. Christ, what a mess he’d made of things. He’d pushed Paige before she was ready, and although she’d yielded to his physical seduction, he now realized the emotional scars her husband had inflicted were a long way from healing.

  After the hell Anthony put Paige through, Josh was seriously beginning to wonder if he had the right to make his own selfish demands.

  WORK WAS her only refuge. Paige welcomed the afternoon diversion of helping Liz unpack a new shipment of spring outfits, accessories and lingerie and putting them on display. Too soon, Josh would arrive to whish her back to the beach house where she’d have to endure another long, tense evening of polite talk with a man she’d never before had any trouble conversing with-until her life had been turned upside down.

  Between Liz’s surveillance at the boutique, and Josh shadowing her the rest of the time, she was feeling cooped up and boxed in. If she wanted solitude, she escaped to the bathroom, and even then she’d learned i she exceeded the paranoid cops’ time limit, they rapped on the door for a response, shattering the private moment.

  Liz accompanied her to lunch every day, and to run errands and do the banking. The woman was never more than a scream away, and though she had a lively personality and appeared slender and unsubstantial beneath the facade, Liz was one tough officer. Per Josh’s instructions, during lulls in business Liz had taken Paige into the office and taught her basic self-defense maneuvers. Paige had been awed by Liz’s strength and agility, and the variety of ways a woman could disable a man if the need arose.

  Ultimately, Paige couldn’t wait to get this entire mess over with. Couldn’t wait to resume a normal life. And in that vein, she’d called her sister, Valerie, earlier tha morning to touch bases and chat, needing that familia connection she’d missed so much the past three years While she couldn’t give her sibling an exact day for he homecoming, she’d promised Valerie she’d be return- ing to Connecticut soon. Not wanting to worry her sis- ter, or her parents, she refrained from mentioning he current predicament, or the danger her life was in.

  “Wow, would you take a look at this stuff?” Liz exclaimed excitedly as she pulled a froth of silk and lace from a box she’d just opened. Satiny jeweled tones in amethyst, emerald, sapphire and ruby shimmered beneath the overhead lights and slid through her fingers like quicksilver. “These nightgowns are gorgeous, and so sexy! How am I going to choose just one color?”

  Paige laughed, enjoying Liz’s enthusiasm, and the diversion from her thoughts. It hadn’t taken long for Paige to realize that Liz was a clotheshorse at heart, and her current assignment allowed her to indulge the habit on a daily basis. “Well, you could always buy one of each.”

  “You’re absolutely no help to my addiction,” she complained good-naturedly. Holding up a sapphire gown to her slim figure, she gazed thoughtfully at her reflection in the mirror, located in the back storeroom, where they tagged merchandise before putting it out on the floor. “Before this case is over, I’m going to have to sign my month’s salary over to you.”

  Paige smiled as she attached price tags to the lingerie. “But you’re going to look absolutely fabulous.” And at m excellent price, too, since Paige had offered Liz the employee thirty-percent discount as compensation for actually working at the boutique while she was on assignment. Paige wanted to do something for the other woman, who’d proved her worth as an employee, as well as a guardian, and the savings seemed to thrill Liz.

  “Oh, and I just have to have one of these,” she said, putting aside a teddy designed in cream satin and french lace. Her blue eyes twinkled merrily. “There’s nothing that feels sexier than silk and lace against your skin or beneath your clothes. And my boyfriend enjoys the surprise, too,” she added with a wink.

  “Looks like he’s got quite a few surprises coming, Paige teased.

  Liz laughed and agreed. Picking up a gown Paig had tagged, she slipped it onto a matching satin hange and adjusted the thin straps. “Consider
ing you get first pick at everything, I’ll just bet you have a ton of this stuff at home, don’t you?”

  “Some,” she admitted, though she’d never receive the dual enjoyment Liz boasted.

  “Well, with your auburn hair and great figure, this one would look fantastic on you.”

  Paige eyed the calf-length nightgown Liz had retrieved from another shipment of lingerie. Emerald satin made up the skirt, but the bodice was sheer black lace, which matched the trim edging the thigh-high slip. “Uh, that one is a little risqué for me.”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “That’s complete nonsense. I wearing this makes you feel good, then there’s nothing indecent about it.”

  Paige noticed that Liz deliberately hung the gown on an empty rack next to the mirror, away from the other priced merchandise ready to be displayed in the boutique. Not wanting to make a fuss or elaborate on the issue, she made no comment. Later, she’d slip the gown back with the others.

  They worked companionably for the next hour tagging the stock while Pam handled the front end of the store and the steady stream of Friday-afternoon customers. Paige instructed Liz where she wanted the merchandise, and the other woman scooped up an armful of clothes and headed out of the storeroom to hang the garments. While she was gone, Paige picked up the sexy, shimmery gown Liz had put aside, intending to put it back into the inventory.

  Despite her remark about this piece of lingerie being too risqué for her, she gave in to temptation and lifted the vibrant gown to her figure, holding it snugly against her body with an arm across her waist. She imagined the rich, cool texture of the material sliding across her bare skin, the sensual rasp of black lace across her nipples… imagined feeling sexy, desirable, excited.

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath. Lord knew she’d tried enticing Anthony with provocative lingerie, but he’d been so distracted and distant after their first year of marriage that all her attempts at seduction had failed to stir his interest. Those nights ended with her in bed alone, hurt and angry, while Anthony roamed restlessly through the house. When he had made love to her, it had been quick and emotionless, and she’d accommodated him out of duty, since Anthony gave little time and effort to her pleasure. And then he’d stopped touching her altogether. Tantalizing nightgowns were even less effective when divorce loomed on the horizon.