Bound By Temptation (15 page)

“Weapons down,” someone shouted.

“Guns down.” This from a skinny, baby faced officer crouched behind the door of his car. Baby face had his gun trained on Lucas’s back.

Emma froze, her skin tightening. Her stomach cramping with fear. What if one of the officers shot Lucas by mistake? It happened all the time. She’d seen it on the news.

A low, threatening growl escaped from Cuddles’s muzzle.

Lucas raised his hands above his head, stepped back from the sedan, and slowly bent to place his gun on the ground, then slid it away with his foot. Emma released a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

“I’m Lieutenant Lucas Trammel. United States Navy. I have a concealed carry permit,” he said loudly as he clasped his fingers behind his neck.

“You with the dog. Drop the gun and kick it away,” a harsh voice commanded.

Lucas’s head jerked in her direction. Alarm flashed across his face. “Emma,” he said, the calmness vacating his tone. “Put the gun down.”

Cuddles’s growling escalated.

“Easy baby, we’re okay,” Emma whispered, trying to soothe her stressed out pet. She tightened her grip around the dog’s abdomen as she bent to place the revolver on the ground and pushed it away with her foot.

Another squad car roared up, stopped with a jolt, and Rio jumped out. “Everyone stand down, he’s one of the good guys.”

Weapons slowly lowered. An officer came over and collected Ned’s grandmother’s gun. Thankfully he ignored Cuddles’s snarled warning. Rio and Lucas huddled together. Their huddle was soon joined by another cop and then another.

She hovered there by the side of the sedan as two officers opened the passenger door and tended to the old woman’s gouged and bleeding face. Good lord, Cuddles really had done a number on the poor woman. Her lack of teeth hadn’t hampered her at all.

The next time she glanced in Lucas’s direction, he was gone. Before she had a chance to worry over his abrupt disappearance, muscled arms slid around her waist. She caught a whiff of smoky male musk with a hint of perspiration and leaned back, melting against a hard chest. Heat enveloped her. She sighed, turning in his arms, Cuddles still cradled against her breasts.

“Jesus.” He rested his forehead against the top of her head. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She felt the shudder rake him, heard the hard pound of his heart against her ear, felt the dampness of his t-shirt beneath her cheek. He’d been perspiring, but it was fairly cool out, and he hadn’t been sweating on the drive to her house.

He really had been worried about her.

“I’m fine.” She leaned back to scan his face. A nerve twitched in his jaw. Adjusting Cuddles’s weight, she freed an arm and reached up to stroke his tense, stubbled cheek. “Honestly, I’m fine. How did you find me anyway?”

“Your dog.” He offered a ghost of a smile and reached out to scratch behind Cuddles’s ear. “I followed her.”

Cuddles twisted her neck and licked his hand. She was still panting, but not nearly as bad as she’d been before.

“Hey,” Lucas called out to Rio. “Grab us some water and a cup.” He shrugged, when Emma raised her eyebrows. “What? She’s probably thirsty. That was quite a marathon for a scrawny little thing like her.”

A swell of pure joy lightened Emma’s heart, infused every cell in her body, until she felt capable of floating away. A huge smile bloomed.

She tilted her head back and batted her eyes. “Just admit it. You like my dog.”

“Like her? Hell, as far as I’m concerned, she gets steak every day.” He slung an arm around her shoulder and turned her around, nudging her toward Rio and the bottle of water he held aloft. “Course we’ll have to put it in the blender.”

He’d said we’ll. As in coupled.

She swallowed hard, hope stirring. Did that mean he’d changed his mind? Was he planning on sticking around—well, at least until his next deployment took him?

S
amantha
, Emma’s friend, was tall, wire thin, and vibrated with nervous energy. She also talked, like a thousand words a minute. Christ, the woman never shut up. Lucas shared an irritated look with Rio as they followed Samantha toward the back of her “
shop,
” which was merely a reimagining of a galvanized storage shed.

“What’s this about anyway?” Samantha asked, glancing at the hoard of blue suited officers and plain clothes detectives who’d followed Rio, Emma, and him into the building. Without waiting for an answer, she swung around to look at Emma. “Did I tell you Roger got a promotion? He’s going to be vice president of operations.”

Before Emma had a chance to answer either of the woman’s questions, Samantha’s mouth was off and running again.

The loveseat was shoved back against the far wall, partially covered by bolts of fabric. He glanced at the red, blue, and yellow geometric pattern and grunted in approval. At least it wasn’t some kind of flowery shit.

“Try not to cause too much damage,” Emma said, hovering protectively over the loveseat as two uniformed officers dragged it away from the wall. “I paid an arm and a leg for that thing.”

Lucas flinched, his pulse accelerating. She’d almost paid with her life as well.

“I think my neighbors are stealing my water.” Samantha watched the officers tip the piece of furniture over and lay it on its back. “The bills are simply atrocious. There must be some kind of law against that.”

“We’ll look underneath it first,” Rio said, kneeling in front of the gaping undercarriage with its dangling wisps of gauzy casing and crisscrossing wires. “Bristol had to hide them somewhere they wouldn’t be noticed.”

“Hide what?” Samantha asked, her eyes widening. “What’s this about anyway?

Lucas wrapped his arm around Emma’s waist and drew her against his side, ignoring Cuddles’s groan of disapproval as she got squashed between them. It had been two hours since Bristol’s demented grandmother had kidnapped her, but the terror of those endless minutes while he searched the streets still breathed inside him. He
needed
the feel of her soft, warm weight against his side, needed the feel of her bare arm brushing his, needed the proof of her existence.

Fuck, he’d faced the possibility of life without Emma two hours ago, and it had brought him to his knees. He wasn’t ready to let her out of his sight or his arms.

“I got something,” Rio said. He shoved his shoulder against the base of the loveseat and pushed his arm deeper. The sound of tape ripping brought everyone forward for a closer look.

Rio eased his arm out of the loveseat’s undercarriage and rose to his feet, a small manila envelope in hand. Dead silence rocked the room as he carefully eased open the clasp and looked inside. Seconds later he whistled.

“Someone give me an evidence bag.” His fingers were tense as he resealed the clasp.

“Diamonds?” Lucas asked, rubbing Emma’s back.

He smiled as she sighed and cuddled into him. She didn’t seem as sore tonight as she’d been in the morning, or over the past few days. Nor did her face look as haggard and white. Apparently kidnapping suited her.

“A motherlode of them. Blue and white,” Rio said, dropping the small brown envelope into the plastic sheath someone handed him. “We need to go over this couch carefully. Make sure he didn’t stash a couple of envelopes somewhere else too.”

“It’s a loveseat,” Emma and Samantha corrected him in unison.

Rio shrugged. He started to hand the plastic evidence bag off, only to glance at Emma and hesitate. “You want to see them?”

“Not particularly.” She laughed as Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never been fond of diamonds. They’re such an icy stone. Now if they were emeralds or sapphires, I’d be over there in a heartbeat.”

Lucas committed that fact to memory.

“If you change your mind, they’ll be down at the station,” Rio said, handing the evidence bag off.

“Are we done here?” Lucas glanced at his watch. “Emma’s got a delivery scheduled in half an hour and she needs to be there to open the door.”

“I do?” She pulled back to scan his face. “How odd. I don’t recall scheduling a delivery. Certainly not at eight p.m.” But there was a smile in her eyes.

He kissed the top of her head. “It should be there by the time we get to your place.”

It had cost a small fortune to convince the furniture store to make the delivery so late at night, but in the long run, it would be worth every penny he’d paid.

* * *

E
mma bounced
on the mattress of the king size bed that Lucas, along with three delivery men, had wrestled into her bedroom. They were lucky they’d been able to maneuver the damn thing into place. Her room was small, like double bed small. This behemoth took up the entire space, leaving barely enough room to walk around it or open the drawers to her dresser—which they’d stuck in the back corner.

The delivery should have irritated her. Purchasing a bed was an intimate decision, with lots of considerations to factor in. Like height and mattress firmness—and making sure the bed didn’t overwhelm the room.

She bounced again, a flurry of excitement and joyous anticipation bubbling through her. It was difficult to pretend irritation when the sheer size of the gift set off a whole host of giddy expectations.

This was a bed for two. A couple’s bed.

“You realize I don’t have sheets or blankets that will fit this thing?” she said, with a third, breathless bounce.

Her last bed, the one he’d hauled to the dump, had been a double. It’s size limitations had been why they’d spent the entire weekend in
his
bed…his
king size
bed.

“We’ll make due for tonight and go shopping tomorrow.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching her, a ravenous gleam burning in his amber eyes.

Another bounce. “You’re staying?”

He straightened, pacing toward her with a lithe, predatory stride. “If you’ll have me.”

Chills feathered up her spine, tingled across her scalp. Oh she’d have him, as much of him as he’d allow.

“For how long?” For the first time, tentativeness touched her voice. He’d been so adamant that they didn’t suit. Had he really changed his mind?

His face softened as he paused in front of her. Leaning down, he caught her hands and gently drew her to her feet. He kissed the scraped knuckles of one hand and then the other before looking up and holding her gaze.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

“Then that would be forever,” she whispered, her arms sliding around his neck.

A low grumble of disapproval brought both their heads around.

Lucas laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to sharing her,” he told the dog glaring up at them.

With a sneer, Cuddles pivoted and stalked out of the bedroom. Emma listened to the clink of her toenails on the hard wood floor until Lucas distracted her again.

The lips that settled over her mouth were gentle, whisper soft, full of promise. Her arms tightened around his neck, drawing him closer. She went up on her tiptoes and opened her mouth, welcoming him inside.

His tongue was as tender as his lips when it slipped into her mouth. Caressing rather than claiming, soothing rather than marauding—it stroked her delicately, as though she were the finest of china, breakable. Irreplaceable.

As though she were precious.

Her heart melted beneath his ministrations and she pressed herself closer, wanting to gift him the same pleasure he was giving her. He tightened his hold, sealing her against his chest, and then dropped his hands to her butt. Lifting her slightly, he stepped forward and eased her down on the bed.

A sharp twinge went through her left knee, which she was able to ignore. But when he followed her down to the mattress, his tongue still stroking the inside of her mouth, the muscles of her lower back spasmed.

He captured her hiss of pain with his mouth and lifted his head, scanning her face. Whatever he saw sent him rolling off her and onto his feet.

“Lucas,” she straightened carefully, until she was sitting on the mattress and reached out to him. “It’s okay. I want this.”

The shake of his head seemed aimed at himself, rather than her, as though he were clearing the passion from his mind. “So do I—obviously.” He adjusted the fit of his jeans over his crotch and smiled crookedly at her. “But there’s no hurry.” He shook his head again, his smile shifting to a scowl. “I haven’t taken very good care of you today. Hold on.” Turning, he disappeared through the door.

She heard the faucet turn on and then off in the bathroom next door. Seconds later, he returned with a glass of water and two pain pills. A thick knot clotted in her throat. She silently took the pills, tossed them back and forced a mouthful of water down.

Was he leaving?

“Tell you what,” he said, as he took the glass back. “Let’s order some takeout and then I’ll give you a back massage. That should help with the tight muscles.”

“You’re staying? Even though, you know…we’re not doing it?” she asked, struggling to her feet, her throat tighter than ever—but with wonder this time, rather than disappointment.

He laughed, his gaze both hungry and amused. “Doing it? You mean making love?” And then his smile turned wicked. “Sweetheart, trust me. We’re gonna be
doing it
like a couple of horny rabbits, as soon as you can move without wincing. In fact, I suspect, we’ll be
doing it
, for a very long time.”

* * *

W
ith a languid stretch
, Emma scooted closer to the furnace roasting her backside. Lord, sleeping with Lucas was like sleeping with an electric blanket. She’d forgotten how much heat he generated.

Pure contentment softened her muscles and mind. The previous evening had been enchanted. They’d shared Chinese food by candlelight. He’d given her a sensuous, muscle melting massage, that actually
had
unknotted all her tight muscles. And then he’d herded her to bed. But rather than leaving, he’d stripped to his skivvies and climbed under the sheets and blankets with her. And then he’d cuddled her all night.

Cuddled her. Without sex. Without any expectation of love making. He’d simply held her…all night.

If she hadn’t already been in love with him before, that sure would have done it.

She stretched again, holding her breath, waiting for her knees or the muscles of her back to protest. But nothing disturbed the bliss. The stiffness, aches and pains were gone. Maybe Lucas’s hands held magic. Or maybe the magic was in the heat his big body shed. She tested the waters again by arching her back and flexing her knees.

Nothing.

Which was good enough for her. Holding her breath, she rolled in the hard arms encircling her waist.

His face was relaxed. Eyes closed. He looked more youthful in sleep, less controlled. The constant vigilance and thin veneer of suspicion he wore when awake added years and weight to his face.

Tenderness rose hard and fast, bringing a film of tears. He was a good man, this warrior in her bed, and he was all hers. With trembling fingers, she traced a path down his cheek, along his throat, and down to his chest. At that point, the tenderness gave way to something more sensual. Something hungry. Ravenously hungry. She needed to taste him.

Her mouth found his strong throat and latched on, suckling. Good God, he tasted good. Indescribably delicious. Trailing wet kisses from his throat to his chest, she feasted on him.

He twitched beneath her, his neck arching. A groan broke from his tense throat. His reaction fueled her hunger. She pushed the sheet from his huge body and conquered the muscles of his abdomen with her lips. With each lick, suckle, or stinging kiss, his body twitched.

Liquid heat flashed through her, pooled between her legs. Her breasts swelled, and her nipples tightened, the taut nubs becoming so sensitive the friction of her silk night shirt brought an equal measure of pleasure and pain.

Someone moaned. It could have been her. It could have been him.

Her mouth moved lower, lingering to nuzzle the rigid flesh of his belly in front of his briefs. This time he jolted—hard—his breath catching and then escaping in a hiss.