Bound By Temptation (13 page)

H
er body rigid with tension
, Emma stared up at the shadowy ceiling and waited. According to the bedside clock it was almost five a.m. Shouldn’t Lucas be back? Shouldn’t he have her assailants under his control and the answers to all their questions? Shouldn’t the whole thing be over by now?

The past five hours had been excruciating, straining to hear the sound of gunfire, or screaming, or sirens—anything to indicate the trap had sprung. There had been a moment, somewhere around three a.m. where she’d heard something. A muffled bang, like a car backfiring…or a gunshot. But it had only happened once and then nothing, for hours.

Just one shot…maybe that should have reassured her, but it didn’t because Lucas hadn’t returned.

Where was he? He’d said he’d come for her, but that had been five torturous hours ago. Hours consumed by an endless reel of horrific images spun by her imagination. Images of Lucas going down, of his body bloody and still, of his eyes glazed and empty.

Her breath hitched, forced its way out of her tight, aching chest.

He’d downplayed the risk of his plan, but she’d known how dangerous it was. One miscalculation, one unexpected twist—anything could happen when guns were involved. One shot and life could cease in a nanosecond.

She groaned, trying to shake the haunting images from her brain.

Enough.
I can’t just lie here any longer.

She threw back the covers, burying Cuddles in the process. The dog had made a nest for herself along the left side of the mattress. A disapproving grumble rolled up through the sheet and comforter.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Emma whispered, trying not to wake her hosts. “But I can’t stand another minute of this waiting.” She eased the covers from Cuddles’s face, wincing at the betrayed gleam in the blue and brown eyes. “Lucas is only a few units down. I’ll just sneak over and take a peek. Make sure he’s okay.”

Cuddles’s lips drew back in a low, vibrating snarl.

Good lord
.

Emma pulled back in stunned shock. Cuddles had never growled at her, not even during those first tentative hours after leaving the humane society. She took a step back, watching the animal closely. She could swear the betrayal on Cuddles’s face had shifted to frozen disapproval.

No way.

The dog couldn’t have understood and responded to her comment. That was insane.

“I’ll only be gone for a minute. I won’t even go inside. I’ll—”

The whiskered canine lips pulled back even further, and the vibrating snarl climbed several octaves.

Okay….

“Or…maybe I’ll just stay here.”

Cuddle’s snarl disappeared. Whining softly, she stared steadily at Emma’s face.

Emma slowly sat back down on the mattress. The dog shook the covers off and crawled forward, stretching her neck to lick Emma’s hand. Slowly, carefully, she reached out to scratch behind the animal’s ears. Cuddles didn’t seem threatening now. Maybe she’d simply picked up on Emma’s tension.

With a deep exhale, Emma stroked a path across the dog’s skull to her other ear. In retrospect, crashing Lucas’s trap would have been a terrible mistake. What if she’d arrived as the bad guys showed up and they’d grabbed her instead of breaking into Lucas’s house? What if her sudden presence distracted Lucas and got him killed, or her killed, or both of them? There was a reason Lucas had exiled her to this safe house. A
good
reason. He knew what he was doing; she’d be wise to remember that.

She shook her head in disgust. Fear for him had frozen her brain and almost drove her into making a foolish mistake. Five hours of waiting…that’s all it had taken to whittle away at her intelligence. What would it be like when he was on deployment?

Obviously Lucas had cause for his abandonment three months ago. She didn’t have a clue what military life was like. If she couldn’t handle five hours of waiting and worrying, how would she handle months or years?

A dull, gray depression invaded the fear.

Scrubbing at the ache between her eyes, she drew Cuddles tight against her side, relaxing as the dog’s warmth seeped into her cold body.

Granted, the circumstances tonight were different then when Lucas went wheels up. She’d known he was headed into a battle, known he was facing a possible gun fight, known the danger was immediate. When he was on deployment, the details would be less concrete. She wouldn’t know the exact time his team was called out.

Would that vagueness make things easier or worse?

Cuddles suddenly straightened, her eyes locking on the bedroom door. She cocked her ears and tilted her head, a low, rumbling growl breaking from her.

Emma froze, her heart suddenly slamming against her chest. Cuddles was clearly hearing something out in the hall… was it Lucas? Or one of her hosts?

And then the dog bolted from the mattress, racing for the door, her deep-throated warning echoing through the room.

The door swung open and a shadowy figure stepped inside. Even in the darkness, the tall, broad shouldered frame was instantly recognizable. Emma’s breath escaped in a heavy whoosh, the relief so overwhelming she went lightheaded. She didn’t remember moving or him moving, but suddenly they were clinging to each other in the middle of the bedroom. Hard, hot lips covered hers, forcing her mouth open.

She could taste the spice of adrenaline on his tongue, feel the pulse of his life force beneath the hands she’d wrapped around his muscled neck. Nothing had ever tasted or felt so good.

He tore his mouth from hers and leaned down slightly, glaring at the floor. “Enough.”

Only then did she realize the dog was still barking. A smile spread, warming every cold, lonely inch of her. “I told you she’d make a great watchdog.”

When Cuddles ignored Lucas’s command, continuing to voice her alarm with urgent growls and flurries of barking, Emma smiled down at her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. He’s one of the good guys.”

He grunted, his hands sliding from her waist, to her hips. A trail of fiery goosebumps tingled along in their wake. With a light tug, he pulled her closer, but the sudden movement tweaked her back. Catching her breath, she froze.

“Ah hell.” He eased closer, gliding his hands around to her back and running his palms up and down her spine in a slow, caressing sweep. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, Better?”

Better?

She almost groaned in pure bliss. The heat of his big body as it folded around her, along with the firm tenderness in his massaging caress was as close to heaven as she’d ever come—okay, second closest. The first had been three months ago.

“Let’s get you into bed.” Without releasing her from his embrace or halting his sensual, soothing back massage, he stepped forward. She took an accompanying step back.

The friction of his thigh as it rubbed between hers was delicious. Heat flashed up her legs, set fire to her belly, and then exploded outward. Her core temperature spiked. Her arms circled his waist to draw him closer, until they were pressed belly to belly, chest to chest. With each step back, his torso rubbed against her breasts. She could hear his heart rate increase and his respiration pick up, feel his erection prodding her belly.

Her heart rate and breathing accelerated, matching his. Even in this they were harmonized. Smiling, she found the hollow of his throat with her mouth and suckled. He jolted against her, his arms tightening—only to loosen again, as though he’d remembered her injuries.

She suckled again, his scent flooding her, fanning the fire in her blood. He smelled like soap and shampoo and—

Soap? Shampoo?

She pulled back, he’d taken a shower before coming to her? She lifted a hand to his head and the dampness beneath her fingers confirmed her suspicion. Suddenly a host of questions ruptured the sensual haze. She pulled back, bracing her palms against his chest and pushed, trying to gain some distance and a good view of his body. Had he been injured?

“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly loosening his hold and giving her the space she’d silently demanded.

“Are you hurt?” She scanned his chest, as well as his legs. He didn’t look hurt, he didn’t move like it either.

“I’m good.”

His face was a gray blur in the shadows, impossible to read, but he didn’t sound like he was in pain. Good! That was good. But that shower bugged her. She couldn’t say why, but a little voice inside her insisted it was important. He’d taken a shower for a reason.

“Tag? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Lucas’s arms tightened, drawing her close again.

Afraid of being pulled back into that carnal fog, Emma took a giant step back. His arms fell away. Instantly she felt bereft—cold and alone.

“What about the rest of your teammates? Was anyone hurt?” She hated the thought of anyone taking a bullet for her, or a knife, or anything that could do physical damage.

“Everyone’s fine,” Lucas said.

She could feel the strength of his gaze in the darkness, the power of his hunger. His need sparked hers. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightening, and a flush of damp heat swept down through her core—softening her, preparing her.

“So what happened? Did the guy who followed us show up?” Her voice emerged breathless and rushed.

“They showed,” Lucas said in the casual voice of someone desensitized to drama. He paused to run a hand over his head and his voice gentled. “You’re safe now. The guy after you was killed by his wingman. The rest of the bastards are hired muscle, in it for the five grand. None of them know what their leader was looking for.”

Emma took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s over?”

He stepped closer and raised a hand to stroke her cheek. “Yeah, it’s over. We’ll want to take a look at that loveseat of yours, see what Ned was after. But the guy who trashed your house and tried to grab you won’t bother you again.”

Thank God
.

She stepped back into his embrace and leaned against his chest, sighing as his arms closed around her again, sealing her in that wonderful furnace of masculine heat.

“Thank you, for everything. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” She felt his mouth move against the top of her head.

“You’re welcome.” A long pause and then. “Does this mean you forgive me for being such an ass last spring?” Tenderness softened his voice, even as a tendril of caution threaded the question.

Yeah, about that…

“I’ve come to realize you were right in your assumptions.” She forced the admission out and felt him go completely still against her.

“How so?” he asked, the question flat, as though he was already distancing himself.

She swallowed hard. Would the truth push him away again? Destroy any chance they had together? Maybe. But he needed to know. It was only fair. He’d walked away the first time to protect her from this pain. The past five hours had taught her why. She needed to step up and offer the same protection. Give him the choice of walking away to protect himself this time.

“I was worried sick about you tonight,” she admitted tightly. “So worried I almost jumped out of bed and went over to check on you.” Would have if not for Cuddles’s intervention. She paused, drew a raw breath, and forced the rest of her confession out. “And no, I can’t imagine going through that hell for months at a time.”

Rigidity infused the still body against her. He took a giant step back, his arms dropping.

“Lucas.” She could hear the entreaty in her voice. “You were right that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. But I do now. And what’s between us is worth investigating, it’s worth seeing where it leads, it’s worth seeing what happens, even if that leads to pain.”

“Maybe.”

But the flatness in his voice told her he didn’t agree.

“The condo is a crime scene, so I brought the insulin and dog food over. They’re in the kitchen. Try to get some sleep.” Turning, he walked away.

The door closed behind him, sealing the room in darkness, and cold, and the first whispers of grief. Emma just stood there. Frozen. Empty. Alone. It was weird how the ache in her knees and the sting in her hands seemed a hundred times worse suddenly, as though her hands and knees were throbbing in sympathy with the ache in her heart.

* * *

T
he last thin
strand of hope, that Emma was right and they could work past the spousal fear inherent in special operations, vanished the next afternoon when Lucas walked through Chris’s door to pick her up. She met him in the living room, her body sluggish, her face haggard, her eyed rimmed with red. Even the vibrant gold of her hair looked muted—tarnished.

His gut tightened into a cold, ferocious knot. It had been dark in the bedroom the night before and he hadn’t gotten a good look at her face. He hadn’t witnessed the damage caused by those hours of fear as she waited for him. It was impossible to ignore now though. Impossible to shrug away.

He should never have let things go so far. He’d known damnit. He’d known the worry and fear would extinguish her vitality and steal that joyful smile.

He’d known he’d destroy her.