Falling for the Bad Girl (Cutting Loose)

by Nina Croft

  She needed more, needed her good-bye first. She knew he still wanted her. That had never changed and wasn’t the problem.

  Her breath escaped her in a whoosh as she caught sight of him. He sat at the same table he’d been at that first night. Still dressed in the dark suit he’d worn to the funeral, though he’d lost the tie, and his white shirt was open at the throat. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it many times, and there were shadows under his eyes that her fingers itched to smooth away.

  A glass of amber liquid stood on the table in front of him, but he wasn’t drinking, just staring into it as if he could find some answers. There were no answers. She’d searched herself, and the only thing she had come up with was this could never work between them. Eventually, sooner or later, the differences would tear them apart.

  As she slid onto the seat opposite him, he looked up and searched her face. “You’ve come to say good-bye?”

  She nodded. “You know it’s for the best. But I needed to see you one last time.”

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t have to be. We’ll find a way to work this out. We’ll do what we said in the beginning—keep our lives separate.”

  “It would never work. You know that deep down. But let’s not talk about it tonight. I don’t want to talk—it always makes things worse. Let’s just have one last night together.” Would he come with her? Or just walk away? She didn’t think she could take it if he did. She’d only built herself up to doing this with the inducement of one last time with him. “I’ve booked a room.”

  He stared at her for long moment, and she held her breath. Then he picked up his drink and swallowed it in one go, stood up, and held out his hand.

  They didn’t talk in the elevator. Or on the way to the room. And once inside, he shut the door and then took her lips in a long kiss. Her hands threaded through his hair, holding him close as his tongue pushed inside, filling her. She closed her mind to everything but the feel of his hands sliding over her body. Slipping her own hands under his jacket, she stroked over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin cotton, the thud of his heart. And her own speeded up.

  She pushed the jacket from his shoulders, and then tugged the shirt from the waistband of his pants. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss and stepped back, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, stroking her hands over his hot skin, the taut nipples, down over his lean belly. After unbuckling his belt, she flicked open the button on his pants and lowered the zipper. He was already hard, and her fingers wrapped around him, squeezing. His head went back and he groaned.

  The sound made her knees go weak, her fingers tremble.

  Releasing him, she slipped the straps of her sundress down over her arms, and it dropped to the floor to pool around her ankles. Beneath it, she wore only a pair of white lace panties, and she pushed them down over her legs.

  He stood, his arms hanging at his side, his hungry gaze eating her up. Her nipples hardened, and a pulse throbbed between her thighs. Never taking his eyes from her, he pulled a condom from his pocket, tore it open, and rolled it onto his erection. He shrugged out of the shirt, kicked off his shoes, and shoved his pants and boxers down over his legs. In seconds, he was as naked as she was, his cock straight up against his belly.

  He was so beautiful, she caught her breath. For long seconds, they stared at each other without moving. Then he slid his hands around her, gripping her ass with his hard fingers. As he lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around him, and he carried her to the bed. They fell together. He landed on his elbows, their lower bodies fused. He shifted a little and the head of his cock nudged at her entrance, finding her as though it was where he was meant to be.

  More.

  He lowered his head and kissed her as he pushed inside, his movements slow and deliberate. Everything tingled where he touched, sensations flowing along her nerves, coalescing in her belly. Those sensations swelled and built as he pushed in and withdrew, his tongue keeping rhythm with the flexing of his hips so her whole body pulsated with the ebb and flow of his body inside her. Until he was part of her, and she could feel the buildup of his pleasure as it echoed her own. He raised his head and stared down into her face as he ground his hips against her. They came together, sensations bursting as she soared and then plunged downward, shattering into a thousand pieces as she crashed. He rocked his hips again, and pleasure rippled through her, and he swallowed her scream against his lips. Finally, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay sprawled across his body. His strong arms came around her and held her tight as though he would never let her go.

  She fell asleep in his arms, his body still deep inside her.

  He woke her in the night, making love to her again, slowly, moving deep inside her as though they could become one. In the darkness afterward, as she lay beside him, the pleasure still pulsing through her body, she murmured the words, “I love you.”

  There was no answer. And his breathing evened out, and she knew he was sleeping.

  Had he even heard her?

  She didn’t sleep again. She wanted these last hours, breathing in the scent of him, of their lovemaking, feeling his skin beneath her hands, her skin against the length of his body as she pressed into him.

  Finally, as the faint light of dawn filtered through the curtains, she forced herself to push away and slide quietly out of bed. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and went into the bathroom, dressed quickly, needing to be out of there before he awoke. The diamonds would be good-bye enough. He’d know what they meant.

  They were a double message—a reminder of what she’d once been, but also a suggestion of what she might become. Maybe she wouldn’t be exactly his idea of a good person, but at least she’d be her own version.

  It all came down to integrity. You had to decide what you believed was right and wrong, and then you had to live up to those beliefs.

  She tiptoed across the room and placed the small velvet bag on the pillow next to him.

  As she turned away, the light flicked on.

  “Don’t go.”

  …

  She’d said she loved him.

  The murmured words had given him the first peace he’d felt in as long as he could remember.

  And he’d fallen asleep in her arms, safe and secure.

  And now she was leaving.

  Anger lashed at his nerves, tensing his muscles. He pushed himself up so he was leaning against the headboard, then ran a hand through his hair. She was dressed and ready to go. Without saying good-bye. Then again, hadn’t she said that was what this whole night was about?

  Then why the hell had she said she loved him?

  “I have to go,” she said.

  “Tell me why.”

  “Because I want to be a good person. And you’ll always make me feel that I’m not quite good enough.”

  “I know you’re a good person.”

  She bit her lip. “You don’t. Not really. But I left you something that might help.” She nodded to his side, and he glanced across and saw the small black bag lying on the pillow. He picked it up, pulled the drawstring open, and poured the stones out into his palm. He stared at them for a minute.

  “They’re all there,” she said.

  “Why? Why now?”

  She shrugged. “Contrary to what you believed, I didn’t have them before. I would have handed them over if I had and reduced my sentence.”

  He thought for a minute. “The ex-boyfriend? That’s who you did the job with. Your partner.”

  She shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter. But let’s say I recently reacquired them. You can hand them in and finally close the case.”

  He didn’t care about the fucking case. “But why tonight?”

  “Because this is good-bye. And I want you to remember me as someone who’s trying her best to do things right.”

  He gritted his teeth. But this was his fault. He waved a hand to his pile of clothes. “Pass me
my jacket.” For a second, he thought she was going to refuse. Walk out. And his anger stirred. “You said you fucking loved me. You owe me a few minutes at least.”

  Shock flared on her face. Obviously, she hadn’t believed he would mention that little item. She’d fucking said it. She gave a small nod and picked up his jacket, then brought it over to him. He pulled the piece of paper out of the inside pocket and handed it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “A copy of the application for your SIA license.”

  She scanned the paper and then sank down to the bed beside him. “You endorsed it?”

  “I sent it in the day after you asked me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I believe in you. But sometimes I forget that when I’m with you. You have a way of knocking all rational thoughts straight out of my head.” He rubbed his scalp. “I’m jealous of your ex. I’m jealous of your family, because they come first. Shit, I can’t think straight around you.” He took her hand. “But one thing I do know is that I don’t want to lose you. You’re the one good thing in my life.”

  “That’s just because you’ve been through so much lately. But once you get some distance from all this, you’ll see that it would never work.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a cop and I’ll always be the bad girl, at least to most people in your life. Your friends will never accept me, and chances are, I’ll ruin your future career.”

  “I don’t care about my goddamn career.”

  “Of course you do. You once told me it was all you ever wanted to do.” She studied him for a moment, and he could almost feel her drawing away. Building herself up to telling him the bitter truth. “I could live with that,” she said. “But you’ll always be a cop, and one day you’ll ask me to choose between you and my family. And that would break me. So I’m walking away now. You know, deep down, it’s the right thing to do.”

  She leaned toward him and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, then tugged her hand free and rose to her feet. “There’s one other thing. Can I keep Trixie? I know you were worried about how she’d be on her own. But I love her, and I’ll look after her.”

  She was really going, this time for good. Was she right? He just didn’t know, couldn’t think straight. Didn’t know anything; his brain was a mass of churning thoughts. “Of course.” What else could he say? He couldn’t even look after his goddamn dog.

  “Thank you.”

  And she was gone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate had taken a week’s leave after the funeral, and it was nearly up. He had to clear out his father’s house before he put it on the market—maybe he’d use the money to buy himself a plane.

  He wanted a new start, away from all the memories. That’s what he was doing—packing away a lifetime of memories. His father’s life. And his mother’s. He hadn’t realized his dad had kept all this stuff. Most would have to go, but he kept a box of photographs, his mother’s jewelry, including the engagement ring his father had given her all those years ago. A small emerald—she’d had green eyes.

  What sort of ring would suit Regan? Not that he’d ever get to put one on her finger. Tightness gripped his chest at the thought. He’d been doing his best not to think of Regan. Because it hurt. And he didn’t want anything piercing the nice protective case he’d been enclosed in since his father’s death.

  She’d been adamant that it could never work between them. Was she regretting that decision? Or was she happily going along with her life? He’d gotten word that her application, with his endorsement, had been accepted. She could open her business now.

  Maybe he should contact her, just to ask how it was going. Ask how Trixie was doing. He missed the little dog. Hell, he missed Regan…but it was best not to go there.

  So what sort of ring would she like?

  There was only one gemstone he would ever associate with her.

  He glanced over at the sideboard. The small velvet bag still lay there, as it had since he’d gotten back from the hotel five nights ago. He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room. Picking up the bag, he poured the diamonds out onto the sideboard and stirred them with his finger. Over a million pounds’ worth of cut stones. Out in the open. Luckily, he hadn’t been burgled.

  He’d take them in on Monday, when he went back to work. He’d say they’d been given to him anonymously, put through his letter box. And he’d find some way of doing it without implicating Regan.

  A knock sounded on the door, and he pushed the diamonds back into their bag, then shoved it in his pocket and headed into the hallway. He’d had many visitors over the last week. Mostly neighbors, coming to say how sorry they were, bringing him food, which was good, since he doubted he would have bothered eating.

  But when he opened the door, two women stood there, Regan’s friends Darcy and Summer. The one he’d helped out of a sticky situation. He’d seen her that night when her brother had caught them at Regan’s apartment, but they’d never been introduced.

  What the fuck…?

  He forced down the panic. “Is Regan okay?”

  Darcy scowled. “No, of course she’s not okay.”

  What the hell did that mean? He glanced behind them, as though Regan might appear. But of course she wouldn’t be here.

  “Can we come in?” the other asked softly. She was a blonde with an air of sweetness about her. She’d been in Holloway with Regan, but he would have sworn she was not the type. Even two years in prison hadn’t hardened her. He hadn’t looked into what crime she’d been convicted of—it was none of his business. Now he couldn’t help but wonder. She wore a gray business suit and a pink shirt and looked like she belonged in some smart office, not a prison cell.

  “I’m Summer,” she said. “We just want to talk to you.”

  “What’s wrong with Regan?”

  Darcy sighed loudly. “Nothing permanent. Let us come in and we might tell you.”

  He shook himself, trying to get his brain working. “Of course.” He led them into the kitchen, which was the only room not full of boxes. “You want a drink? A coffee?”

  Not waiting for an answer, he busied himself with the coffeemaker while they took seats at the table. Despite her belligerence, Darcy looked a little ill at ease, her gaze straying around the kitchen. Something occurred to him.

  “Does Regan know you’re here?” he asked, pushing the mugs of coffee across to them, then adding milk and sugar to the table.

  “Hell, no. She’d kill us.”

  He still had no idea what they wanted. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked again.

  “She’s got a goddamn broken heart, you numbskull.”

  He sank down into the chair. What did she mean, a broken heart? How could they know? But inside, a little spark of hope burned into life. And then flickered and died. It didn’t change things. All the same… “Let me get this straight. You’re saying she’s got a broken heart because of me?”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “Hey, give the detective a cigar.”

  “She loves you,” Summer said.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that. She’d told him. “She was the one who walked away.”

  Darcy was about to take a sip of her coffee, but now she put it down without taking a drink, a scowl on her face. “Well, you see, that’s because you’ve got her thinking she’s not good enough. That she’ll never be good enough. And you know what—she’s the best person ever.”

  That was something else he already knew. He just didn’t know how to convince her. Maybe deep down, he also knew that his job would always come between them. That her family would never accept him. That she would indeed end up torn apart between them. He couldn’t do that to her. But he hated it.

  Summer reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “She never did anything other than that one job. She decided when she was eighteen that she wasn’t going to follow in her family’s footsteps. She is good, really she is.”

  “I know that
.”

  “Then show her.”

  He pushed himself to his feet and paced the room. Scratching his head, he tried to make sense of what they were telling him. Why were they telling him this at all? Why were they here? Did they want him and Regan back together? And if so—again—why? They had to be as wary of the police as Regan was—especially Darcy, considering her scumbag brother-in-law. This thing about not being good enough went both ways. He’d always felt her friends, and her family, had judged him and found him wanting, as well.

  He sat down again. “I don’t know how to show her. She won’t believe me. I told her we could make it work, and she still walked away.”

  They were silent for a few minutes. “Do you know why she did the job?” Summer asked. “The one you put her away for?”

  He shook his head.

  “Did you ever even ask her?” Darcy’s tone was pissed off.

  They hadn’t exactly talked about the subject. It was one of the “no go” areas, one of the lines he wasn’t supposed to cross. “I presumed she wanted the money.”

  “Her scumbag ex-boyfriend told her his sister was dying, that she had a goddamn brain tumor and needed the money for treatment in America.”

  “And even then,” Summer added, “she insisted that she choose the job. She’d only steal from a big organization.”

  They were a South African company, and he remembered thinking at the time that it couldn’t have happened to a better business. They probably hadn’t even missed the diamonds. He’d never considered before that some crimes were worse than others. If you broke the law and got caught, you paid the consequences. Now, for the first time, he questioned that.

  “She’s a goddamn modern-day Robin Hood,” Darcy said. “And while I may forgive you for locking her up, I’ll never forgive you for making her doubt herself.”

  “You’ve got to make it right,” Summer said.

  “How do you know all this? Has she told you?”

  “Of course she hasn’t told us. She’s gone all quiet and just mopes around all day, hugging that little rat of a dog she got from you.”