by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
In the car she said, “Your teeth are going to be nothing but powder if you keep grinding them. Let it out.”
“Let what out?”
“Your anger. I’ve had it directed at me before.”
“You think I’m mad at you?”
“Yes.”
“Christ.” He pulled into Caesar’s Palace, got out and tossed the keys to the valet, snatching the ticket. He shouldered her bag and nudged her along. They were alone in the elevator.
“Jack.”
“Not here.”
She folded her arms, glaring at him. “He-man.”
“Pain in my ass.” He directed her toward his room, unlocked the door and shut it behind them.
Darcy moved to the window. “Say it, whatever it is, just say it. Yell at me, whatever.”
“I was scared.”
She looked at him.
“To death. I didn’t think I’d reach you in time.”
“What?”
“I saw that guy follow you from this hotel to yours, dammit. I followed him. I missed him in the elevator and—” His gaze fell on the cut on her throat. “I thought he’d kill you.”
“He didn’t.”
He snatched a tissue, blotting her throat. It was sealing up already. When he looked at her again, Darcy felt the air leave her lungs.
It was overpowering, the emotion in his eyes.
She turned away from it.
“You might as well tell me what you’re into, because you’re in way over your head.”
It was true, she was. But she couldn’t bring him into it, not without revealing everything she’d kept hidden for so long.
“Jack, it’s my business.”
“Is it? Darcy?”
She inhaled and went still as glass. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Darcy Allen Steele.”
Her legs wouldn’t hold her, her heartbeat was so fast she thought she’d pass out. She reached for the dresser, sinking to the floor, refusing to look at him, to confirm or deny. A flood of emotion and pain slipped through her like boiling water, scalding, burning.
Oh God, oh God, he knew!
“You investigated me?”
“I was a cop. A Vegas cop. And yes, I did.”
“How—how long have you known?” She couldn’t catch her breath.
“After I found you rescuing that woman.”
“For nearly two years, and you never said anything!”
“I was waiting for you to trust me.”
“It’s not that simple.” Still, she wouldn’t look at him.
“It is now, Darcy.”
She choked. Hearing her name was both painful and joyous, and the tears came, years of loneliness, of hiding and watching what she said or did chipping away like ice trapping her soul.
He was there, pulling her off the floor and into his arms, holding her tight.
Darcy cried, her fingers digging into his shoulders, arms wrapping his neck.
“Oh, Jack.”
“I know, I know. It’s okay, baby.” His voice wavered, big hands smoothing her spine. “Take a breath.”
She couldn’t. It hurt.
For long moments he said nothing, simply holding her. Her shoulders jerked with each sob. He kept telling her she was safe, that he’d never let anyone hurt her again. Darcy didn’t know how long she cried, didn’t feel time passing, only the safe haven of Jack’s arms.
“I’ve ruined your suit,” she muttered against his chest when she’d calmed.
“It’s okay. Rarely wear it anymore.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Why, Jack, why did you investigate me?”
“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing anything illegal by helping you.”
“But you were.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then why didn’t you turn me in?”
His shoulders moved. “Because of you.”
“As flattering as that is, there has to be more than that.”
“Yeah, there is.” He inhaled and exhaled as if he were about to confess a crime. “My sister was beaten to death by her boyfriend. We didn’t have enough evidence for a trial and he walked. I didn’t want that to happen to you.” He shrugged, old pain tensing his expression. “So I watched your back.”
“Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry. Is that the reason you’re not a cop anymore?”
He nodded solemnly.
There was a stretch of silence, and a thousand thoughts careened through her mind. “Then you know about Maurice.”
“Yes.”
Shame swept her. “Oh, God.” She pushed out of his arms.
“He hurt you, that’s why you go after those women.”
“Yes.”
“You even filed charges against him, I know.”
She laughed without humor. “Yes, I did. But Maurice is a very powerful man, Jack. People listened to him and not to the poor girl he married.”
She couldn’t believe she was telling him this, that with Jack, it was over, no more hiding, no more lies.
She sank down onto the sofa, her hands folded. “I stole my son from his father.”
“You were afraid for Charlie’s life.”
“You have no idea.”
Removing his jacket and tie, Jack went to the wet bar and poured her a drink. “I think I do, but you can tell me now, Darcy.”
When he said her name, her head snapped up. He smiled. “Piper never suited you.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”
If she wanted proof of his trust, there it was.
“How much do you know?”
“Enough to know where you learned all those defense skills.”
Athena. “Bet that was a shock.”
“No, you’re a strong woman.”
“If I was, I would have done something about Maurice before now.”
“So talk.” He pushed the drink into her hand and sat beside her. “I’m listening.”
Darcy heard herself speak, but it was as if she were telling a story about a part of herself that didn’t exist anymore. She told him about Athena and the Cassandras, and then going to UCLA, working on movies, and meeting Maurice. Jack asked a few questions, cursed a few times, but didn’t say anything more as she told him about the horrors, the abuse. Being locked in her own house for days at a time. His features were still, but his eyes gave him away.
She found such peace in them.
Such tender warmth and love.
And still she told him all, the shame and regret bringing tears and anger. She told him how Rainy had helped her escape, and how she’d taken the burned clothing.
And when she was done bringing him up to the present, Rainy’s death, the Cassandras’ investigation, and her own decision to go after Maurice, Jack simply nodded.
“This evidence you have, the clothing, you’ve had it tested?”
“No. It might be nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. I’ll have it tested.”
“Jack, I can’t involve you in this.”
He gave her a look that said it didn’t matter anymore. “You did right to have the forgeries documented, especially with Loni.”
Darcy blinked.
“I worked with her in Vegas, a few years ago. You have plenty of proof, enough to open a file on Fairchild and Steele.”
“No, we don’t have a body.”
“We’ll look. Or the cops will.”
“Jack, don’t you get it? I could lose Charlie over this.”
“I won’t let that happen.” The edge in his voice cut through the air between them. “I swear to you. Charlie is not going anywhere.”
He loves my son, she thought. He loves him.
“How can you say that? As far as the L.A. police are concerned, Maurice is clean. I’m the criminal.”
“No, you’re not.” Jack left the sofa and paced a little. “Even if charges were never filed against Maurice, the incident reports have to be on file. There are calls with t
he dispatcher. You said you have pictures. And with the servants you’ll have witnesses.”
“Maurice never hit me in front of anyone, Jack. He never said a cross word near a witness. The man went overboard with gifts and jewels. And I accepted them.”
“Accepting them was placating his temper and we’ll figure this out, together.” He was quiet for a moment.
“What?” she pushed.
“If I saw you and Charlie on TV and recognized you, Steele could have seen you at that funeral, too.”
“Why do you think I’ve been working so hard to get all this together?”
“He wants you.”
“He’s not getting me.”
“Oh, I know that. Because you’re mine.”
Darcy blinked. He met her gaze, then moved across the room with quick steps as he said, “If you don’t know that by now, then I’ll just have to be clearer.”
He reached for her. That was all it took.
Suddenly she was against him, her fingers plowing into his hair, her warm mouth moving hotly over his. His energy slammed into her, and her body fired right back like a rocket, cooking her from the inside out.
They were savage and primal, tearing at each other like starved animals. She couldn’t be still, as if she had to run at top speed, nipping at his throat, his mouth, yanking his shirt from his trousers and sliding her tongue over his skin. Jack staggered, his shirt sailing to the floor. The sound of her dress zipper sliding down filled the room. He peeled it off her shoulders down to her waist.
Immediately he cupped her breasts and she pushed into his touch, begging for more as she shaped his erection trapped in his slacks. She made a little sound of hunger and passion, her kiss growing stronger. Unstoppable. As if she wanted to devour him whole.
“Oh, Jack, I knew it would be like this,” she murmured against his mouth, then kissed him hotly.
“See all the time we’ve wasted. Tell me you really want this or I walk,” he said even as he cupped her breasts, thumbed her nipples. “Because we’re fast approaching liftoff.”
She simply smiled, opened his slacks and freed him.
“Oh, man,” he groaned as her hand closed around his erection. She stroked him, making him tremble like a teenager, and Jack thrust into her palm.
“God, I love a woman who takes charge,” he managed, his breath coming in short rasps.
Darcy felt the power of being a woman, saw it in his eyes as she slid her finger over the moist tip of him. He shuddered for her, kissing her till her legs liquefied.
“Give me everything, Jack. It’s been so long.” It was almost a dare, a tiny battle for pleasure and he bent, his lips closing over her nipple. She gasped, bending back over his arm and Jack flicked and suckled harder, stroking her body, dipping and rubbing between her thighs.
Darcy felt the fire inside her rupture and spread. She couldn’t get enough of him, needing to feel alive and connected, even for just one night. Her hands skated over his smooth tanned skin, over ropy muscles that made her insides melt with desire. Then he moved lower, taking her dress down. Except for panties and thigh-high stockings, she was naked beneath. He licked a path down her stomach toward her center. Her body quivered with anticipation. He peeled the panties down and Darcy tipped her head back, her fingers in his hair.
Oh, I’ve missed this.
He spread her, driving his tongue between the folds and she flinched, then sighed with pleasure. Cupping her behind, he devoured her, sending untamed heat to the end of her nerves. Her body screamed with delight, and she gasped over and over, groping for him, pulling him back into her arms.
Mouths met and sank into each other, skin dampened, primed for sex.
“Tell me you have a condom in your wallet, cowboy,” she said, shoving at his trousers. He fumbled for it, dumping his wallet on the floor, and Darcy snatched it, then hooked her foot in his slacks and sent them down. He stepped back and stripped, then grabbed her against him.
His erection pushed between them.
It was all she could do not to climb on him right now.
Then he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him, leaning back, and together, they tumbled to the bed. She laughed softly, clinging to him, thrusting against him.
“Now, Jack, please, oh, now.”
He pressed her into the mattress, his knee wedged between her thighs. “Not so fast, baby.”
“Yes, fast, right now.” She squirmed beneath him, but he just grinned and dragged his tongue over her nipples, then latched on. “Ohh.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. He was devouring and greedy, and it had been so long since she felt this good. She wanted to be touched, to play and be wild with him. And he would be wild. She could feel it, in the tense yank of his body, in the way he stroked and teased her.
“Jack,” she gasped.
“Man, you taste good.” His mouth cruised over her skin, wet and hot. He nudged her thighs apart, slipping a finger inside her and she moaned, kissing him as he slid in and out. Her hips pumped with his touch, and when he circled the beads of her sex, she nearly came off the bed, urging him on.
Gazes locked and she cupped him, rolling the condom down, playing, making it impossible to resist her. He sat back on his haunches, scooping her off the bed and onto his lap.
She was trapped in his gaze. Everything inside her went still, hanging by a thread.
“Darcy?”
She choked.
He kissed her face. “Tell me.”
“This hurts, Jack. I didn’t think it would.” She could feel the pain of her past shattering. A living thing that had gnawed at her for so long was dying with his touch, his trust.
“Hard to let those secrets go?” he said softly.
She nodded.
“Then let me carry them for a while.”
Her eyes teared. He kissed them softly, his mouth working magic over hers and in moments the energy steamed between them, and Darcy was begging for him to be inside her.
He entered her, teasing her with the tip. “Oh, Jack.”
Then in one long thrust, he filled her, making a sound all men made when they found satisfaction. Making her wounded heart bleed.
He kissed her ravenously, pushing in short thrusts, then longer and longer till Darcy felt herself falling apart inside. She moved with him, enjoying the thick hard push of man, the warm pulse inside her.
Oh, she’d missed this. She missed being taken. Feeling loved.
Her eyes suddenly burned and she scolded herself for it.
“Look at me.”
She did, holding his gaze as he slid from her and then plunged deeply. He had one broad warm hand on her behind, giving her motion, the other cupping the back of her head. His eyes were bluer, intense. She’d never had a man who was so intent on her pleasure, and seeing it.
“I feel you grabbing me,” he whispered, pushing harder and faster. He leaned till she was on her back, keeping his eyes on her face, the power of him pushing them across the bed with frantic cadence.
Laughing, Darcy grabbed the headboard, braced her feet on the mattress and let herself go. Her hips rose, her body open. On his knees Jack watched himself disappear into her, then met her gaze, quickening his pace. And she took all of him, a hundred sensations rushing at her at once, the feel of his skin, his fierce blue eyes, the hot throb clawing through her body. Her heart pounded wildly. Her breath labored. His hips pistoned.
“Come here, cowboy. Closer, I need you closer.” Grabbing the headboard, Jack slipped one arm under her, holding her off the bed. Her spine bowed and every sensation intensified.
Faster, deeper. Hotter. He shoved once, twice. The explosion ripped through them, pleasure crashing in heavy waves. The air prickled with it, and she clamped her legs around him, pulling him down onto her as the fire roared through them like a savage beast.
Feminine muscles clamped, robbing them of thought. They strained, kissing wildly even as they tried to catch their breath. Then like a dying wind, they softened and slumped to
the side, a tangle of arms and legs on a lake of wrinkled sheets.
“Ah, Jesus, Darcy,” he said, breathless.
Something inside her shattered. Old pain, old life disintegrated.
She curled into his body, realized that he’d had her heart a long time ago. Tonight, she gave it freely. She met his gaze, his smile was soft and tender.
“This changes everything,” she said.
He looked at her, brushing her hair back. “You okay with that?”
He seemed apprehensive right then. Darcy cupped his jaw, laying a warm kiss over his mouth. “Yes, I am.”
She settled back in his arms, her eyes closing with exhaustion and new freedom.
Then in the quiet, his voice rumbled softly. “So…you’re really a blonde, huh?”
Slowly, Darcy met his amused gaze. He arched an eyebrow. She grinned, shoving a pillow in his face.
Chapter 12
In the middle of the night, Darcy’s cell phone rang.
She left the bed, smiling as Jack’s fingers slid over her arm.
“If that’s Charlie,” he said groggily, “Tell him I said hi.”
“I will not. It’s the middle of the night. He’ll know we—” She gestured between them.
Jack grinned. “He’s a smart kid, he’ll figure it out.”
Darcy rolled her eyes, then hunted in her purse for the phone. “Piper Daniels.” Jack made a face at that.
Raspy breaths came through. “It’s me.”
“Cleo?”
“They came after me.”
“I’m in your hotel, come right now.” She gave her the room number, then ended the call.
Jack was already out of bed, pulling on jeans.
“It’s Cleo, I think she’s been hurt.”
Darcy rifled through her bags for clothes, then went to the bath, showering quickly, then dressing. By the time she came out, Jack had everything tidy. Got to love a man who pitches in, she thought.
“When she gets here, don’t use my real name. Just because you know doesn’t mean I can afford to come out of the closet yet.”
“This is getting complicated,” Jack said.
When the knock came, he looked through the peephole, then said, “Jesus.” He threw it open, pulling her in.
Cleo struggled against him till Darcy came to her. “It’s all right, he’s a friend. God, Cleo.” Darcy smoothed her hair back. Cleo’s face looked like a punching bag. “Jack, get some ice for this.”
