If I hadn't already fallen in love with this man, the part of me that loved order, that loved a complicated but perfectly balanced approach to life, would have been bewitched by what he'd just done.
Of course, to him it might have just been simple sex. But I was not a simple person, and even if how he'd made love to me had been only a natural action to him, I'd still greedily take it. Maybe, he was just naturally perfect for me.
And maybe I was getting a little too starry eyed. I shook my head. We were hiding from bad guys in a house that made Ryan fall apart, and I was romanticising the moment. Not that making love to Ryan didn't have its own share of romance, but I needed to remember why we were here.
I turned to step into the shower and there he was, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching me. Again.
"How long have you been there?" I asked, stunned I hadn't heard him approach.
"Long enough."
"And you just watched?"
He nodded. "You're quite a sight." A smile curved his lips. "What were you thinking?"
I let a slow breath of air out and flicked my eyes to the shower, still steaming the room up and coating my skin in fine droplets of warm water.
"Come on," he urged, undoing the top button of his jeans and starting to remove them. "You can tell me what got that pensive look on your face, so soon after the contented one, in the shower."
Ah, he'd been there a while then.
"How was Daisy?" I asked, trying to deflect as I stepped under the shower spray. Ryan joined me shortly after, his hands immediately going to my shoulders, then running seductively down my back and over my hips.
I glanced at him over my shoulder. His eyes were mesmerised again, caught in a trap watching the water trickle down my spine.
"Fast asleep," he said, almost distractedly.
"What took you so long?"
"I'd forgotten to put the car away. There's a garage around the side. It needs to be out of sight."
I hadn't thought of the car being visible and immediately I was utterly relieved to have someone else shoulder the weight of survival for me. There was something almost magical about knowing Ryan would always do everything in his power to protect us. Something I have never experienced before. It's always been on me to keep us safe. No one else would or could. But Ryan Pierce, he wasn't like anyone else. He was an experienced cop, one who had obviously done this sort of thing before; protection of a witness. Hadn't he said he was the best at this sort of thing? How did one get to be the best at this?
I turned to face him, his eyes darted up to my face, then straight back down to my breasts and stayed there. His hands kept running up and down my sides, seeking that tactile touch he seemed unable to deny himself when near me.
I wasn't sure if now was the time to ask questions, but I couldn't help myself. He might have looked like the one captivated, but I think Ryan was a puzzle I couldn't turn away from. Like my previous desire to straighten ornaments on a shelf, I needed to work him out.
"Why did you become a cop?"
His eyes came back up to mine, an intensity there I was getting accustomed to. When Ryan looked at you, really looked at you, the rest of the world fell away.
"It's a long story," he said softly, the sound of the water falling around us almost drowning his words out.
"Can you tell me?"
He didn't answer straight away, just stood there looking into my eyes and breathing too deeply. I had a feeling that this was all tied up in whatever it was about this house that made him crumble. I reached forward and ran my hand over his collarbone, feeling his shoulders relax as soon as my skin touched his. With my free hand I picked up the soap and poured some into my cupped palm, then returned to smother his skin in suds.
I concentrated on my task while he battled his demons. He was either ready to tell me or not. I'd wait. Besides, washing Ryan was not an unenjoyable pastime.
By the time I'd managed one complete sweep of his upper chest and stomach his breathing had regulated, becoming more of a lazy, sleepy inhalation and exhalation.
"You're good at this," he murmured. His eyes had closed and he was slowly rocking back and forward under my touch.
"Good at relaxing you?"
His lips tipped up in a smile. "Good at distracting me."
"Distraction is good." He laughed, beautiful brown eyes dancing when he looked back down at me.
"I became a cop because I needed to."
My hand stilled, only for a moment, before starting up my gentle massage again.
"Why?"
"Justice."
"But justice is not law." I pointed out his early statement.
"No, it's not. But I didn't know that at the time." I flicked my eyes up to his, knowing what I'd see before I saw it, even if I didn't know why it would be there.
Pain.
"Did you find it?" I asked. "Justice, I mean."
"Yes." Nothing more, just that one word, spoken with such determination.
"Turn around," I murmured, and once he obeyed my soft command I began to smooth soapy liquid over his glorious back and shoulders. "Tell me more."
He drew in a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly. His body was still tight, but with each stroke of my hands across his flesh it released a little of its tension. My heart ached for whatever made this man so taut. For whatever put such sorrow on his handsome face.
"I was adopted," he said from nowhere. "My adoptive parents gave me the Pierce name and a good, loving home. They couldn't have kids, I was their one and only chance at parenthood. They never hid that I was adopted, always made sure I knew they chose me."
Another deep breath in and then slowly out.
"But when I turned eighteen I felt compelled to find out who gave me away and why. My adoptive parents never denied me their support in my quest, even if it hurt them. I don't know if it did, they hid any emotional reaction from me. But being young and naive and full of self-righteous indignation I powered on in my search."
He stopped then, head hanging low, eyes cast to the shower stall floor. I kept up my massage, softly soapy him up and then wiping the suds away. Offering what comfort I could through my touch.
"I don't regret finding my biological mother. I just wish..." He sounded pained again, my heart clenched tightly in my chest.
I turned him 'round to face me with soft but firm pressure on his shoulders and back. He wouldn't look at me when he made it chest to chest again. So I stepped forward and slipped under his chin and arms, wrapping myself around his frame and holding on tight. It took a stunned second and then he enveloped me in his embrace, resting his cheek on top of my head.
"Marie," he said, my name a soft prayer above my head.
"Shhh," I crooned. "You don't have to tell me."
"But I do," he whispered. "You need to know why I understand." Understand?
I wanted to pull back and look at his face, see what his eyes told me. But he tightened his grip, securely locking me in place against his heart. His hand even coming up, and pushing my cheek into his chest, right where I could hear his heartbeat.
He turned his face and kissed me softly in amongst my hair. The water still rained down around us, the steam rose in soft puffs of misted air. It was intimate, but by no means sexual. A heavy weight hung in the shower stall, heavier than the water drenched atmosphere should have been.
"I got to know her," he whispered in a rough edged voice. "We became friends of sorts. I knew why she'd given me up, I accepted it. She'd had no choice. Her partner at the time had been powerful, physically and socially. A well known player in the local Auckland political scene. He denied parenting me, made her give me up for adoption, and like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice, nowhere else to turn. She believed he was all there was and she took him however she could get him."
A shattered breath of air went in and when he exhaled his entire body shook. My throat closed over with emotion, my eyes blurred with tears. This wa
s killing him. Reliving it. I wanted him to stop, yet I knew he wouldn't now. Once Ryan made his mind up, it was set in stone. No one could stop him.
But those words. Spoken with a type of weary knowledge. Like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice, nowhere else to turn. This was why he protected people. And at a guess, I would say most of those he protected were women and children, escaping an environment that was not good.
Is this what he meant by understanding? He understood why I was hiding, why I was running, even though my dangerous environment didn't include a partner or husband as such, but those who were connected to me through Rick.
"I tried to get her to leave," he went on. "He didn't live with her, just visited her when it suited him. When his other lovers weren't in favour, he sought my mother out."
Visited her. Where? I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly where.
"He found out about me. Found out who I was and why I was coming around. She defended our friendship. She shouldn't have. She should have walked away, but it was too late for her by then. Even when she saw the writing on the wall, she still didn't have it in her to walk away. She said she loved him and that he loved her, despite how he behaved, she said he needed her. I didn't understand then. I do now."
He stroked down my back, a soft, haunting caress. His cheek nuzzled into my hair.
"It takes courage," he murmured. "More than most have left. Just surviving is all they can do, anything else would break them. I wasn't in a place to give her what she needed then. I was still young. Not even twenty. I didn't know I could have helped. I've spent the rest of my life making sure I don't make that same mistake again. I have dedicated my professional career to providing courage when they have none left. Giving them that someone to lean on when they can barely stand upright anymore." He sucked in a deep, tortured breath of air and added, in a voice that sounded almost childlike, "But I was too late for my mother."
"Ryan," I said, my voice cracking.
He pulled me back from his warm body and looked down into my eyes, let me see the agony he felt, the pain that still tormented him. Let me see the promise that he'd given me that first day in my office; compassion, understanding, and the chance to lean on another person in order to survive. I'd seen it then, maybe not completely recognised it, but he'd made the offer. And he'd obviously made the same promise of protection to others before me too. Abi? She'd said she hadn't stopped running until she met Ben and Pierce.
This is what he does. A knight in shining armour, disguised by the façade of a modern day cop. Ryan Pierce was a hero. My God, he was such a good man. I felt overwhelmed to have met him, to have gotten this close to someone this inherently decent. My heart swelled with pride, and then filled with sadness, because his story wasn't at an end.
"He was unstable," he whispered, eyes holding mine as much for an anchor, as to ensure I comprehended what he next said. "Volatile, easily enraged. I should have known what he was capable of. I have never underestimated another since."
His eyes closed slowly, his head tipped back and he inhaled through his nose; once, twice, three times. Then intense brown was staring back at me, bringing the world down to just me and him.
"He shot her three times in the chest." Oh, fuck. "Twice in the head." No! Please no.
My body started shaking; his face said it all. The trembles made it hard to hold on to him, but Ryan's grip was firm, tender and gentle, but ensuring I went nowhere. Trapping me in his embrace as his words imprisoned me in my own past.
The acrid stench of gun residue, the too vibrant blast of light, the deafening roar of a pistol being fired. Screams. Blood. The solid sensation of multiple somethings hitting me, then looking down at my chest and realising it was parts of Rick's brain and skull. My knees gave out and Ryan went with me to the floor of the shower, cradling me, rocking me as tears streamed down both our cheeks.
"I understand, Marie," he whispered, the sound of a thousand bees inside my head competing with his jagged voice. "Because I watched someone kill a loved one in front of me. Just like you."
Just like me.
I forced myself to look up at his face, to search his eyes and see the truth.
I'd witnessed my husband's murder. He'd witnessed his birth mother's murder.
And where I had run and hid, Ryan Pierce had become a cop, in order to help others avoid the same evil, vile, world shattering experience we'd both had.
"Did you get him?" I asked, the only thought left inside my numbed head.
"It took five years to gather enough evidence to convict him; he had good lawyers, the best advisers on his staff. And I was just a rookie cop. By the time he was put away for life, I was a Senior Constable. Not long after I made Detective. And not long after that I bought this house. Placed it in a trust, rent it out and what it earns goes to Women's Refuge. It's..." He paused, searching for the right words, I think. "It's my only link to her."
Wow. That was a hell of a lot to take in.
We were still sitting in the bottom of the shower stall, the water now cooler, but ceaselessly pounding down around our bodies. Ryan held me on his lap, arms loosely circling my waist, hand softly caressing my thigh.
Neither of us said a word for a while, just let that revelation sink in. My finger absently began to draw on his arm, unable to deny myself the touch. I realised, I'd recovered from my memories quicker than I had in the past. Not quite so trapped by them. They'd come, they'd rolled over me, hurting as they always did, but then they'd rolled on. And what had been left was Ryan.
Still with me. Still holding me up. Even though he'd just gone to hell and back too.
"You don't come here often, do you?" I asked, eventually.
"No," he whispered, reaching up and turning the taps off. Silence filled the space, sounding more deafening than the shower water had been only moments before. "I keep an eye on the bookings, the revenue. Make sure the Refuge is getting a fair cut."
He glanced around the small space we were in, as though only realising now we were on the floor. His face tipped down to look at me, intense brown capturing my heart.
"For the first time in over a decade I don't hate it," he announced.
"The house?"
His head shook from side to side, the water spilling off in tiny airborne droplets from the tips of his hair.
"What happened. What it made me become," he explained.
I reached up and brushed a longer strand of hair off his forehead, then because I couldn't help it, ran my fingers through his beard.
"Why not?"
"Because it led me to you, Tiger. And there's no one else I'd rather be with. No one else I'd want to walk this path with. No one else who fills the cold emptiness inside, replacing it with heat and sunshine and a bright future." His hand shook as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I've fallen head over heels for you, Marie. For the first time in my life, I've found my other half. That part of me that went missing the night I watched her die. And if I spend the rest of my life trying to give that back to you, I will. Because you deserve happiness, you deserve safety, you deserve a good life."
"So do you."
"Oh, babe. I've found it. Why else do you think I haven't let you go?"
I shook my head as a soft smile graced my lips. Ryan Pierce had walked into my life and turned it upside down. It might have gone that way without him, I'm guessing Roan McLaren would have looked for me eventually with or without the attention of a cop. But from the moment Ryan appeared, my life changed.
I've had to embrace my fears. Face up to my past wrongdoings. Finally let go of my dead husband and start to live. Take a giant risk, and do what's right. Lower my shield of confidence and ice, and let a little warmth seep in. Become human again. And through it all, Ryan has been there.
Attraction does not equal love. What does? A shared understanding? A similarity in histories? A common goal?
Or is it sometimes indescribable. Something that sneaks up on you out of the blue at the most ri
diculously inconvenient time.
Whatever it is, I have found it. I know this, from deep, deep down inside. Where Ryan has started a fire, ignited a spark, and begun to thaw me out.
And for him?
I searched his face again, looking deep into his eyes. I could have asked him. But then I didn't really need to, he'd already said all he needed to say.
Because there's no one else I'd rather be with. No one else I'd want to walk this path with. No one else who fills the cold emptiness inside me, replacing it with heat and sunshine and a bright future.
"Yes," I said, making him raise his eyebrows in slight confusion. Having obviously not kept up with my tumbling train of thoughts. "I understand," I added.
"You do, do you?" he said with a return of his usual smirk.
Yeah, I did. Ryan understood what I was going through, because he'd been through it too.
And I understood what he needed in order to survive, to stay alive with those memories, to not drown in an ice filled Arctic Sea.
And I was determined to spend the rest of my life ensuring he got it. Ensuring he got exactly what he needed, just like he was giving me.
Chapter 25
Show Me
Ryan wore those skin-tight stretchy material boxer shorts, the ones that show off every curve and bulge in enticing detail. I've always held a secret favouritism for those. Loose satin or silk boxers might look sexy, but give me detail any day. You don't get creases in form-fitting elasticised t-shirt material trunks.
Yeah, I liked trunks on a man.
He was walking back into the bedroom, after going to the kitchen to grab us a drink, in nothing but his navy trunks. Two glasses of sparkling water in his hands and a smirk gracing his lips. I may have been staring at his package.
Well, it was on skin-tight enticing display.
He leaned over and handed me one of the glasses and then slipped into bed beside me, taking a sip from his own. I just watched him, my glass halfway to my lips, my eyes unable to look away. He'd recovered well from our shower conversation, pulling that masculine nonchalance back on like an old worn shirt. I knew he still suffered being here; how could he not? But a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, I think. Sharing that part of his history with me, uncovering another reason why we fit together so well.
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