Tall Dark Defender Page 18

  He winced. “It could go into overtime.”

  His boyishly apologetic expression was so far from the irritated glower Walt used to give her, she had to smile. “Okay, but no shouting at the TV. You’ll wake the kids.” Pulling her lips in a flirtatious grin, she snuggled closer to him and threaded her fingers through his hair. “And I’d really like them to stay asleep.”

  The lift of his eyebrow and darkening of his gaze spoke of his intrigue with her intimation. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Jonah slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Help me pull for my team. I’ve got ten grand riding on this game.”

  Annie jerked away from him. “Ten grand? Where did you get that kind of money?” Immediately, she shook her head and held up a hand. “I’m sorry. That’s not my business. It’s just…that much money is—”

  Jonah laced his fingers with hers and kissed her palm. The soft brush of his lips on her sensitive skin sent a delicious thrill spiraling through her.

  “You have a right to know. The money is from an insurance settlement. My dad was killed in a car accident a couple years ago.”

  She caught her breath, sympathy plucking at her. She knew the mixed feelings he had toward his father and the confused emotions he’d have experienced because of the loss.

  “A guy ran a red light and T-boned him,” he continued. “The other guy’s insurance company offered a healthy settlement if my sister and I signed papers saying we wouldn’t sue. Dad also had a good bit of life insurance listing my sister and me as beneficiaries.” He gave a cursory glance to the television, where the game had resumed. “I hadn’t wanted anything to do with my dad when he was alive, and I sure as hell didn’t want to profit from his death. I took the money and put it in the bank. Left it there. Didn’t want anything to do with it, until—”

  When he paused, ducking his head, Annie slid a hand along his cheek, then lifted his chin to meet his gaze. “Until?”

  “When Michael died and I decided to investigate who was behind the gambling operation, I resigned my position on the police force in Little Rock and moved down here. I’ve been living off the money from my dad’s death for the past year. Michael was more of a father figure to me than my dad ever was. It seems like poetic justice somehow that the money I inherited be used to catch the people behind Michael’s death.”

  “Poetic justice, indeed.”

  After a drawn-out moment where the world seemed to still around them, his gaze dipped to her mouth.

  Her lips gravitated to his, and a low moan rumbled from his chest. The vibration reverberated through Annie, licking her veins and encouraging her to be bolder, to take what she craved without fear or regret. She sealed her mouth over his and teased the seam of his lips with her tongue.

  Jonah’s arm tightened around her, and he tugged her onto his lap. His fingers burrowed into her hair, and he met her questing tongue with his own. Every velvet stroke spun her senses reeling faster. She clung to Jonah for support and could feel the rapid-fire beat of his heart against her chest. A bulge at his fly ground intimately against her hip. Knowing that she’d roused his body to that state emboldened her, filled her with a sense of power she hadn’t know in years. In Jonah’s arms, she felt feminine. Respected. Cherished.

  Her restless hands skimmed over his wide shoulders, along the muscle and sinew of his arms, then settled on his hard chest. Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she raised her eyes to his, breathless from his kiss. The heat and hunger blazing in his gaze sent shock waves rippling through her, firing every nerve. Her whole body quaked with need and strained closer to him. “Jonah, I want…”

  Her breath hung in her lungs. She should stop now, retreat. Protect herself from inevitable pain. She might not fear physical abuse from Jonah, but the risk to her heart was too great. If she gave her body to Jonah, she’d lose a piece of her soul to him, too.

  Trepidation dried her throat, and she nervously wet her lips. His gaze tracked the quick swipe of her tongue. His grip tightened, and smoky desire darkened his eyes.

  “What do you want, Annie?” His husky growl stroked her like a physical caress. “Name it, honey. Anything.”

  His warm hands framed her face, and he brushed butterfly kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her closed eyes. His tenderness touched a raw, aching place deep inside her, soothing, calming. His warmth thawed the chill of fear that had frozen her, paralyzed her for too long.

  “Trust your heart.”

  Even if it cost her a piece of her soul, she wanted the respite his arms offered from the turmoil of her life. She ached for the sweet joy and heady bliss of his kiss.

  After years of running, bone-deep pain and endless nights of loneliness, she desperately wanted a few stolen moments of happiness, of escape, of…Jonah.

  “This,” she whispered, her voice catching. “I want this. I…want you.”

  A heartbreaking expression molded his face. Moisture clung to his eyelashes, and a shocking vulnerability shaded the bright yearning in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  The tremor of wistful longing in his tone shook Annie to the core.

  He could be worried about breaking your heart—or you breaking his.

  Her chest clenched, realizing that Jonah’s need and doubts echoed her own. Her pulse tripped over the idea her warrior protector bore scars from his own past. Was it possible Jonah needed her as much as she needed him? Did her kiss offer him the same balm to old hurts as his did to her? Could two broken spirits, two wounded birds find solace and hope with each other?

  “It’s about give and take, sharing and supporting each other.”

  Ginny was right. More than anything, Annie wanted to give Jonah the hope and happiness, the healing that his patience and gentleness had given her.

  Annie dragged in a shaky breath and stroked her fingers down his cheek to cup his jaw. She touched her lips to his, felt his shudder. “Make love to me, Jonah.”

  After checking on her children, Annie joined Jonah in her bedroom, her heart tapping an anxious tattoo. She walked in just as he pulled a small foil packet from his wallet and tossed it on the bedside stand.

  Her heart turned over. Always the protector.

  Hearing her enter, he glanced up, and a muscle in his jaw bunched. “Just so you know, you’re safe with me.”

  Annie bit her lip, a flutter of anticipation dancing in her belly. “I know.”

  His mouth pressed in a hard line, and his gaze narrowed on her. “What I mean is…I don’t sleep around. I don’t take sex light—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips to stop him. “I trust you.”

  His throat convulsed as he swallowed, and his pupils rounded. He tugged her close and sighed into her mouth. “Annie, sweet Annie…”

  She sank into his kiss, ribbons of pleasure unfurling inside her. When he skimmed his lips over her chin and down to the pulse point at her throat, shimmering sparks danced over her skin. His hands worked under her T-shirt and massaged her back, strumming the bumps of her spine and lulling her with tender strokes.

  Weeks of tension and anxiety melted by degrees at his touch, and she gave herself over to the magic of his hands.

  Bracing her hips securely against his, he leaned her back and ducked his head to nuzzle the valley between her breasts. The arch of her body pushed her hips more intimately against the ridge of his arousal, and with a sway of her body, she rocked against him. A low moan rasped from his throat. The effect she had on him thrilled her, heightened her own pleasure, made her bolder.

  Grasping his shoulders, Annie straightened and stepped back. Holding his hot gaze with hers, she whisked her shirt off and let it drop on the floor. Her bra followed, and Jonah released a stuttering breath as he palmed her bared breasts. He molded and shaped her gently before shifting his hands so he could roll her nipples under his thumbs.

  Staggering sensation pulsed through Annie’s blood, a hot rush that melted her bones and made her legs buckle. She curled her fingers into his shirt, gasping for a steadyin
g breath. Jonah pivoted with her in his embrace and lowered her carefully to the bed.

  He stood beside the bed only long enough to yank his own shirt off and shove his jeans down his legs. He kicked free of the pants, then braced himself on his arms above her.

  Annie drank in the sight of his toned muscles and broad chest dusted with black hair. Rather than frighten her, his brawn and powerful potential made her feel safe, protected. She brushed her hand across the taut skin, savoring the warmth and texture, lightly scraping his nipples with her fingernails and smiling when she felt his answering shudder. Her gaze followed the path she blazed with her fingers, until a wide jagged patch of pale skin stopped her cold.

  A long scar stretched across his lower abdomen. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Jonah, what…?”

  He glanced at her with heavy-lidded, passion-drunk eyes and shrugged. “A punk with a knife resisted arrest.”

  She pulled back to appraise him with fresh eyes and renewed concern, and she noticed a small puckered circle on his shoulder. She touched it. “And this?”

  He groaned. “Do we really need to catalog all my scars now? We could be here a while.”

  A poignant ache squeezed her chest, and she tipped her head, her gaze scanning him. “Oh, Jonah.”

  How many more scars did he have? More important, how did she help him heal the internal wounds that stitches and bandages couldn’t help?

  Jonah had been surrounded by violence all his life, been its victim, learned to use it as his tool for catharsis. A hot stab of pain lanced her heart, understanding all too well the kind of pain he’d endured.

  But Jonah, despite his inauspicious start in life, despite the odds against him, had turned his life around, joined the police force, become a defender, a protector rather than succumbing to the violence that had marred his life. With Jonah on her side, how could she not overcome the obstacles her own life had thrown at her. A burning determination fired in her gut, a conviction that a better life was within her grasp if she had the courage to seize it, to fight for it. And Jonah was a huge part of the life she wanted for herself and her children.

  Tears clogged her throat as she gazed up at him. She captured his lips with hers and poured everything that was in her heart into her kiss. Drawing her closer, he pressed her into the mattress with his weight, and she wrapped her legs around him. Jonah explored her body with tender roaming caresses and sultry kisses until she quaked with longing and burned with need. She reveled in the freedom to enjoy his taut muscles and masculine angles with equal leisure and passion. When he settled between her legs, she arched toward him, her body aching to feel the heat and weight of him inside her.

  In short order, Jonah sheathed himself with a condom and rolled her on top of him. “You’re in control, Annie. You set the pace.”

  A blissful contentment and trust, a sense of rightness and fulfillment swelled inside her until she couldn’t breathe. She held Jonah’s gaze, savoring the moment as he entered her. Somehow she sensed her whole life had been leading to this moment, this man. Everything she’d suffered, all she’d sacrificed and lost only made this moment that much sweeter. She belonged with Jonah. They bore the same scars, yet together they were stronger, better. Whole.

  Tears of joy stung her eyes as her body stroked his, and the heat and need pounding through her blood coiled tighter, burned brighter—until she shattered in his arms.

  She clung to him as he sighed her name and shuddered with his release. Then, in the still darkness of her bedroom, they held each other. Silent. Still. Complete.

  Safe in Jonah’s embrace, Annie drifted into the first truly peaceful sleep she’d had in years.

  Jonah folded an arm behind his head and stared into the inky blackness of Annie’s bedroom. With his free hand, he stroked Annie’s silky hair and listened to her deep, even breathing as she slept.

  He’d been unprepared for the way making love to Annie would rock him to his marrow. Beyond powerfully satisfying sex, joining his body with hers had felt so fundamentally right, like a homecoming, that something had shifted in his soul and grabbed him by the heart. He’d known sleeping with her was a mistake, that it would make giving her up harder and would hurt her more deeply when he had to leave. But when she’d looked at him with her heart in her eyes and asked him to make love to her, denying her request, when every fiber of his body ached for her, had been impossible. He’d thought he could give her the pleasure and comfort she deserved and keep his heart out of the mix, keep the emotional distance that would allow him to walk away when it was over.

  He’d been wrong. So wrong.

  He blinked hard when the sting of tears burned his eyes and brutally shoved down the bout of self-pity. He had to think of Annie, not his own bleeding heart.

  Because if he’d learned nothing else tonight, he’d seen the truth of his feelings for her. He’d fallen in love.

  His chest throbbed as bitter regret and frustration raked his chest with sharp talons. No matter how it hurt him, he had to do the right thing for Annie. He couldn’t give her the family, the future, the happiness she deserved, and he had to stand aside so that another man could.

  Jonah gritted his teeth until his jaw throbbed. Thinking of Annie in another man’s arms, building a life with her, burned in his gut like acid.

  But she needed better than the patchwork attempt at a real family that was all he had to offer. For him, failure was unthinkable, inexcusable. Annie had survived one bitter marriage, one damaged attempt at family without burdening her with his tarnished history. He couldn’t risk her happiness should he bomb as a husband and father.

  But in the short hours until morning, he could soak up as many precious memories as possible. Then, when daylight came, he had to do what was best for Annie.

  He had to let her go.

  Chapter 18

  Jonah was gone.

  Annie blinked and groped sleepily on the bed beside her when her alarm clock beeped the next morning. His pillow still bore the dent from his head, and his scent clung to the sheets, but he’d already risen and disappeared from her room.

  Disappointment stabbed her. She’d wanted his face to be the first thing she saw that morning, had hoped for a few stolen kisses before she stumbled to the shower.

  But perhaps his discretion was for the best. Maybe it was better that Haley and Ben didn’t find a man in their mother’s bed when they tiptoed in for their morning snuggles.

  Even though she didn’t have to be at work until that afternoon for the late shift, Annie dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She checked the living-room couch for Jonah, then glanced out her window toward his truck. Not only was Jonah in neither place, but his truck was gone as well.

  The first niggling doubts squirmed restlessly inside her as she returned to pour a cup of the fresh coffee. Where could he have gone? And why hadn’t he told her he was leaving?

  A tousle-headed Haley staggered into the kitchen and dropped into a chair with her stuffed cat tucked under her arm.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Annie pushed aside her nagging questions and disappointment over Jonah’s absence to concentrate on her daughter. Mornings like this, when they could share breakfast together and have time to play before she left for work, were rare, and she didn’t want to waste a minute.

  Haley yawned and scratched her ear. “Can we make pancakes, Mommy?”

  Annie took out a frying pan and smiled at her daughter. “Absolutely.”

  Tar Heels Win Nailbiter, the front page of the sports section read. Jonah sat in his truck and sipped the convenience-store coffee he’d bought when he got the newspaper and scanned the game summary. While he’d been making love to Annie, his team had pulled out a narrow victory. He should be happy. Instead, he felt rotten. After the most amazing night of his life, he’d woken to the reality that Annie could never be his and the day had gone downhill from there.

  Well…except that his team had won. Unable to muster the appropriate satisfact
ion for his winning bet, he tossed the newspaper aside and took another throat-scorching gulp of his coffee. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Farrout’s number. When the bookie answered, Jonah forced a note of satisfaction to his tone and gloated, “UNC by three. I believe you owe me some winnings, Farrout.”

  A moment of silence followed during which Jonah pictured Farrout’s narrow-eyed glare and glowering countenance. Then, “Tonight at Pop’s. At eleven. I don’t like a crowd around for transactions.”

  Jonah inhaled deeply. Annie worked the late shift.

  He really didn’t want Annie anywhere around when he did his business with Farrout, but he didn’t feel he had the luxury of contradicting the bookie. “I’ll be there.”

  Farrout disconnected without comment, and Jonah returned his phone to the clip on his belt.

  Things were beginning to fall into place. He had Hardin’s files, and if he wore a wire tonight, maybe a camera in a lapel pin, he could get proof of the gambling transactions Farrout ran. Perhaps it was time to bring his investigation to a head. He wanted the business finished, wanted the people involved behind bars so Annie would be safe, so Michael could rest in peace and so he could move on with his own life.

  His gut roiled.

  A life without Annie.

  He imagined her disappointment upon waking alone, and he clenched his teeth. When he’d dressed in the predawn hours, she’d looked so peaceful, he hadn’t had the heart to tell her he was leaving. Acid bubbled and seared inside him, and he groaned. In truth, he hadn’t had the guts to look into her wide, vulnerable eyes and break her heart.

  He needed to go by her apartment before she left for work, explain himself. Or maybe he could drive her to the diner that afternoon, and he could use the time alone to tell her the decisions he’d made. Jonah sighed miserably and pinched the bridge of his nose where a headache was starting. How did he look the woman he loved in the eye and…rip her heart to shreds?

  His cell phone trilled, and he checked the caller ID. It was the call he’d been waiting for. “Devereaux.”