by Nora Roberts
He was in charge. And while Connor might see him as a hero, she began to see just how vulnerable the badge made him.
Because she did, she also realized that the worry that ate at her all through the long afternoon and evening wasn't just for a friend, a lover, not just for a man she admired and cared for. It was for the man she loved.
It had taken something unexpected, shocking, to open her eyes. Now that they were open, she could look back. Almost as far back as she could remember, Devin had been there. She had depended on him, admired him and in some ways, she supposed, taken his place in her life for granted.
It had been humiliating to go to him and admit what Joe had done to her, to show him the marks, to describe how she had come by them. Not just because he'd been the sheriff, she thought now. Because he had been Devin.
She'd always been more shy around him than around his brothers. Because, she thought again, he'd been Devin. Part of her heart had always been set aside for him. So she had never been able to look at him as just one of the MacKades, or just her friend, or just the sheriff.
She'd always felt something more. Now she was free, and she could let those feelings out. She could admit that it wasn't just part of her heart that belonged to him, but all of it.
All of her.
Through the worry came the wonder, and with it the joy. She loved.
When the phone rang, she raced to it like a madwoman, then struggled to keep her voice calm when Savannah greeted her.
"Hi, I guess you've heard the big news by now."
"No one's talking about anything else." To calm herself, Cassie reached over to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of juice. "Have you seen Devin since it happened?"
"Not personally. Jared has. He says our big, bad sheriff is annoyed with all the glory. A television crew came down from Hagerstown, and the paper's been here." Because she understood Cassie's silence perfectly, she softened her voice. "He's fine, Cassandra. Not a scratch. Just grumbling because this whole business is going to keep him tied up for a while. Are you all right?"
"Me?" Cassie stared at the juice she'd poured. "I'm fine. I'm just concerned."
"I know. I have to admit that by the time Bryan finished giving me the play-by-play, I was pretty concerned myself. But the one thing we can all be sure of is that Devin MacKade can handle himself."
"Yes." Cassie picked up the glass, set it down again. "He can. I guess there's no one who needs anyone worrying about him less than Devin." But why hadn't he called?
"Listen, I really called to ask you a favor."
"Sure. What can I do?"
"You can give my temper a break and send Connor over for the night. Bryan's been nagging me since he got home from the great bank robbery."
"Oh." Cassie peeked out the window into the yard, where Connor and Emma were playing with the cat. "He'd love it, if you're sure."
There was a crash, and Cassie could hear Savannah yell, "Bryan MacKade, if you break a window with that baseball, you're not only out of the game, you're suspended for the season!
"Yes, I'm sure," she said to Cassie, with feeling, when she returned to talk in the receiver. "But there's more. Can we have Emma, too?"
"Emma? You want Emma to spend the night?"
"Jared has this idea that we'd better start practicing with girls. We sure know boys, and he started thinking that once Layla starts growing up, we'll be lost." She laughed, and Cassie heard the baby coo. "So, how about giving us Emma for the experiment? We swear we'll turn her back over in one piece."
"She'd be thrilled. But, Savannah, you'd have four to deal with."
"Yeah. We've decided that's our magic number. If you know what I mean."
"Four?" It was Cassie's turn to chuckle. "Well, you're going to need plenty of practice, then."
"Let's just see how we survive one night. Pack them up, will you, Cassie? Jared will walk over through the woods and get them."
"On one condition. You'll call, anytime, if you want to bail out."
"You've got my word on that one." There was another crash, and something shattered. "All right, Bryan, now you have to die. Hurry, Cassie—I have to believe there's safety in numbers."
Though it tugged at her heart a little, Cassie supervised the overnight packing, while her children bristled with excitement. They were so eager to go, and she tried not to fret that it was Emma's first sleepover.
She made certain they had clean clothes, toothbrushes, instructions on how to behave. They even took the cat. When they trooped off toward the woods with Jared, she was completely, utterly alone.
With too much time, she realized, to think, to brood, to worry.
She went down to the inn, found the handful of guests well occupied and content. Still, she set up cake and coffee in the parlor, offered complimentary wine to those playing cards in the sunroom.
Seeing that she wasn't needed, she set the table for breakfast, and checked her pantry and refrigerator, though she knew she was well supplied for the large Sunday breakfast the inn was becoming renowned for.
At loose ends, she wandered outside. She wasn't used to having nothing to do, no one to look after. Certainly, she had often fantasized about how she would spend an evening alone. A bubble bath, a book, a late movie on television.
That was what she would do, she told herself. As soon as she ran into town and made sure Devin was really fine.
She dashed up the stairs, then let out a yelp when she saw the shadowy figure on the porch swing.
"I saw you were busy," Devin said. "Thought I'd wait."
She still had a hand against her speeding heart. "I thought you had to stay in town."
"I dragooned Donnie into staying at the office. It's the least he can do, after he left me with the phones all damn afternoon." He held out a bouquet of yellow tea roses. "I brought you flowers. I was going by the florist and remembered I'd never brought you flowers. I know you like them."
"They're beautiful."
"Are you going to sit down with me?"
"All right." She sat and held the roses in her arms as she would have a child. "They're beautiful," she said again. "I should put them in water."
"They'll keep a minute." Curious, he tucked a hand under her chin and turned her face to his. "What is it?"
"It's nothing. I was so worried," she blurted out. "I couldn't leave, and kept waiting for you to call. Devin, why didn't you call? I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I shouldn't nag you."
One of the scars, he mused, and kept his fingers firm when she would have looked away. "Don't be sorry. I did call, several times. Your phone was busy."
"Everyone's been calling. I've heard a dozen different stories."
"The truth's probably less exciting."
"He had a gun, didn't he? You knew he had a gun when you went into the bank."
"I had to do my job, Cass. He wasn't going to get anywhere, and even if he did, there was a canister inside the moneybag that would have spewed red paint all over him and the bills." His grin spread. "Actually, I'm kind of sorry we couldn't play that part out. It would have been some show. But he might have hurt someone."
"He might have hurt you."
"Well, then, you didn't hear about how bullets bounce off me.''
Instead of laughing, she pressed her face into his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're all right. I'm so glad you're not hurt. I'm so glad you're here."
"I'm happy to be all of those things." Slipping an arm around her, he set the swing in motion. "I'd have come sooner, if I could."
"I know. You were on the news."
"Yeah. So I hear."
"You didn't see." She turned her head. "They'll show it again at eleven."
"I know what I look like."
Studying his face, she found something endearing. "You're embarrassed."
"No, I'm not." He shifted. "Maybe. Some."
Not just endearing, she realized. Adorable. "I'm awfully proud of you," she murmured, and brushed her lips over his. "Actually, we taped the bro
adcast. Connor was so excited. We can watch it, if you want."
"I'll pass. I don't—"
She interrupted him with her lips again, and experienced an odd, sweet power when she felt his heart jump. "I've watched it three times. I thought you looked like a movie star."
"You don't get out enough." His palms were damp, so he eased off the swing. A little distance, MacKade, he warned himself, before you explode. "I've been thinking about that, too. I haven't ever taken you out. To dinner, or anywhere."
"You took us down to the zoo in the spring, and to the fair last summer."
Why was she looking at him like that? he wondered. She'd never looked at him like that before. With... Was that amusement, or lust, or— God.
"I meant you and me. I love having the kids, but—"
"I don't have to go out on dates, Devin. I'm happy with the way things are."
"Still and all." He couldn't seem to think very clearly, not when she was just sitting here, smiling at him, a bouquet of flowers in her arms. "I, ah, brought all this food. Pies and cookies and cakes. People have been bringing them by the office all afternoon."
"They're grateful." With her heart tripping lightly, she rose. "They want to show it."
"Yeah, well, I'd never be able to eat it all. I gave some to Donnie, but I figured the kids might..." He backed up when she stepped forward. "They might want some. I didn't see them when I came up. It's a little early for them to be in bed on a Saturday night, isn't it?"
"They're not here." She blessed Savannah and Jared, and fate. "They're spending the night at the cabin."
"They're not here."
"No. We're alone."
He'd been prepared to leave, to spend a little time with her, then go. He wouldn't have asked to stay with her through the night, with the children in the next room. None of them were ready for that.
Now they were alone, and the night had just begun. A slap of desire whipped through him, painfully. He braced against it, and managed an easy smile.
"Then I'll take you out."
"I don't want you to take me out," she murmured. "I want you to take me to bed."
It closed his throat. "Cassie." His hand was very gentle on her cheek. "I don't expect that every time I come here. That's not the only reason I want to be with you."
"I know." She turned her lips into his palm. "It's what I'd like tonight. I'm going to put these in water."
She left him, churning and speechless, on the dark porch. More than a little dazed, he followed her inside.
"I bought this at Regan's shop." Briskly Cassie filled a green depression-glass pitcher with water. "I'm still getting used to having a little extra money to buy pretty things. I don't even feel guilty about it anymore."
"You shouldn't feel guilty about anything."
"Oh, a few things." With hands as gentle as they were efficient, she arranged the roses in the pitcher. "But not this. And not you." Her eyes lifted. "Do you know what I feel about you, Devin? About us?"
He thought it was best not to try to speak just then, not with the way the blood was draining out of his head.
"Dazzled," she murmured. "You dazzle me. You make me feel things, and want things I never knew I could have. I'm almost twenty-nine, and you're the only man who's really touched me. I want you to touch me."
He would, as soon as he could be sure he had his hands, and his needs, under control. If it had been anyone but Cassie, he would have thought she was seducing him.
Because he said nothing, made no move toward her, she was afraid she was doing it all wrong. It wasn't nerves now that plagued her, so much as doubt. And doubt had her shifting her gaze back to the flowers.
"If you'd rather not right now... if you don't want me—"
"God." It exploded out of him, made her head whip up in alarm, made him bite back whatever might have come out next. "Let's go for a drive," he said quickly. "It's a pretty night, the moon's coming up. I'd like to go for a drive with you."
She was sure she'd made some foolish mistake, but couldn't put her finger on it. All she was sure of was that her system was in overdrive, and his wasn't. As a seductress, she thought, she was a miserable amateur.
"All right, if you like."
He recognized that tone, the bright and false cheerfulness. He would have slit his throat before he did anything to cause that. "Cassie, it's not that I don't want to make love with you. I do. It's just that... Maybe I'm a little more revved from this morning than I thought. I need to smooth out some of the edges before I... I can't touch you now," he ended, his tone too sharp, too quick.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a little too needy right now, and it doesn't help for you to keep looking at me that way. I wouldn't be able to— I'd hurt you."
"You're angry with me?"
"No." He swore, ripely, showing her some portion of his frustration in the way he whirled around and paced. "When I'm angry with you, you'll know it. You're driving me crazy. Look at the way you're standing there, with your hands folded and those big, gorgeous eyes watching every move I make. I can't breathe when you look at me like that. I used to be able to." He shot the words out like an accusation. "But that was before, and I just can't handle it as well now that we've been together. We've got to get out of here before I eat you alive."
"We're not going anywhere." It surprised them both, how firm and settled her voice.
"I'm telling you—"
"Yes, I believe you are trying to tell me. You think I'm too fragile to handle it. To handle you. Well, you're wrong."
"You haven't got a clue what you're dealing with, not with me."
"Maybe I don't. Maybe you haven't let me." Suddenly strong, suddenly sure, she walked to him. "Every time we've made love, it hasn't been for you."
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course it was for me."
"It was for me," she said firmly. Strong, she thought. Strong face, strong eyes, strong hands. Not a picture in a magazine, or a white knight fantasy. A strong man, with strong needs. "You were so careful, so patient. No one's ever been careful with me before."
"I know." Because he did, his hand was gentle when he lifted it to brush the golden curls of her hair. "You don't have to worry anymore."
"Don't treat me like a child, Devin." Boldly she took his face in her hands, that familiar and compelling face. "You were holding back. Every time, you were holding back. I've been too dazzled to realize it."
"Cassie, you need tenderness."
"Don't tell me what I need." Her voice had a snap to it, there was a spark in her eyes. "I've had enough of that in my life. Yes, I need tenderness, but I also need trust and respect, and to be treated like a woman. A normal woman."
As carefully as he could, he wrapped his fingers around her wrists. "Don't push me here, Cassie." He pressed his lips to her brow, and infuriated her.
"Kiss me like you mean it," she demanded, then crushed her lips to his. She felt his jolt, the burst of heat, then his struggle for control. "Show me what it's like," she said against his mouth. "I want to know what it's like, what you're like when you stop thinking."
With an oath, he devoured her mouth. It was like that first shocking kiss, she realized as her blood burst inside her veins. The first and the last time he had given her a glimpse of real hunger.
There was that surge of power again, that odd, whippy sensation that she could do or be anything. She strained against him when he tried to draw back.
"Damn it, Cassie."
"Again." Surprisingly strong, she dragged his dark head back to hers. "Kiss me like that again." Her eyes, slumberous, aware, stayed on his. "Show me what it's like," she murmured. "I've waited my whole life to know." She ran her hands over his chest, felt the wild beat of his heart, the rigid edge of his control. "Take me. Don't be kind tonight, Devin. Just take me. That's what I want."
His hands, shaking now, were tensed and rough as he wrapped her hair around them and dragged her head back. He plundered her mouth, ravishing it with lips and teeth and tongue. A
part of him hung back still, waiting for her to object. He told himself he would stop—could stop—the moment he frightened her.
But as her taste seeped into him, he was afraid it was a lie. Just look at her, he thought, the sunbeam hair, the cloudy eyes, the rose petal skin.
"Cassie—"
"No. Just show me." She was almost delirious with new knowledge, with the force of her desire and her utter lack of fear. "Show me."
He could have sworn he heard himself snap, heard an echo of brittle control breaking. The wildness overcame him, primitive, almost brutal, making all the years of patience nothing.
In his rush to taste her flesh, he ripped her blouse. The sound of the seam tearing would have snapped him back, but she moaned and wrapped herself around him. Instinctively he recognized the quiver of her body as desire, not fear. It clawed at him.
"I can't... stand it."
"Then don't," she murmured, thrilling when his arms clamped around her, when he lifted her off her feet so that she was pressed hard against him, heat to heat. "Touch me." She fisted her pale hands in his dark hair, amazed at the hunger that swarmed through her. "I'll go crazy if you don't."
Nearly stumbling, his mouth racing over her face and throat, he headed for the bedroom. But she wrapped her legs tight around his waist and shot new fire into his blood. By the doorway, he pressed her against the wall, using it to brace her. His desperate mouth clamped over her breast, suckling hard through her tattered blouse. Her response was to throw back her head and rock against him.
"More." She couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth, couldn't believe this vicious need had been in either one of them. With a groan, she reached down and tore her own blouse aside so that his mouth could take her.
She climaxed the instant his teeth closed over her, shocking herself with the power of it. For an instant she was like a moth, pinned, quivering helplessly, and then she was alive, bursting with life.
Mindless as coupling animals, they dragged each other to the floor.
