Lucky Charm (23 page)

A small sound shivered deep in her throat, almost a whimper, a sound of longing.

Matt pulled her a little closer, brushed his mouth over hers. Gently, he swept his tongue across her upper lip, then teasingly across the lower one before he caught it between his teeth to nibble on it.

Frozen, Ariel stood with her hand on the half-opened door, while the other clung to his arm. The movement of his mouth seemed to hold her spellbound. She’d never been kissed so delicately. Her lips tingled as her breath caught. Tentatively, she tasted him, her tongue sliding lightly over his lip where it met hers. He tasted like cool water, slightly metallic. Her heart began to pound as their tongues met, slipping over each other.

That first tentative touch of her tongue, her lips moving against his was exhilarating. More, he wanted more. He slipped his tongue between her lips and she sighed. Her lips parted as he tasted her more deeply. Her body seemed to melt against him, molding to his and his arm tightened around her as he deepened the kiss.

It felt wonderful to be held, to be kissed like this. To feel strong arms around her. It was wonderful…and terrifying. Until that first morning it had been years since she’d let anyone touch her. And she remembered why. Like a dark tide the memory of that pain, of that terrible grief, rushed through and over her. Fear shivered through her, seared through her mind, rushed hotly through her veins.

“Matthew, stop,” she gasped, as his mouth moved to her throat.

Warmth burned there, trying to counter the cold chill of fear. She shivered, fear and desire at war inside her.

He raised his head to look at her, the look in his green eyes too knowing. Ariel tried to step away but couldn’t, his arm was locked tightly around her waist.

No, he wasn’t going to let her go, not yet. They were going to resolve this. He’d heard that sound in her throat, that longing, and he’d felt the need. He’d felt her quiver. He knew she cared, knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Gently, he pressed a kiss against her forehead and felt her tremble.

The tenderness of the gesture nearly tore Ariel’s heart to pieces, wrenching at her. The one thing she couldn’t defend against was kindness.

“Please, Matthew,” she implored, “please, don’t do this.”

Very gently, he said, “Do what?”

Looking up into the strong rugged lines of his face, at his incredible green eyes, with shaking fingers she traced the firm curve of his mouth. The courage, the character. She didn’t want it gone, but she was terrified.

“Don’t make me want to care about you,” she whispered. “What you’re doing is dangerous. You’ve already been hurt. I’ve seen that for myself.”

“What is it you’re afraid of, Ariel?” he asked but he knew. Don’t break my heart, she’d said. He couldn’t break it, though, if it wasn’t his to break. “That I’ll die on you, too?”

The bluntness of his words hit her like a hammer, fueling her fear as she remembered. It surged through her, along with the memory of pain, of a grief that seemed too much to bear. Loss, sorrow and loneliness. An aching absence, an emptiness she couldn’t fill.

“Yes,” she cried. “I know what you’re doing is dangerous. I can’t do this. I can’t feel this again.”

She twisted in Matt’s arms suddenly, fear lending her strength and speed, breaking his hold on her.

Then she darted through the door of her hotel room, fleeing, running from him. The door slammed shut behind her.

“Ariel,” he said.

He wished he could say he was sorry as he leaned his head against the door but he knew it wouldn’t help. He’d pushed her too far, too fast.

For a moment Ariel simply stood in the center of the room, her heart pounding in turmoil. Emotions rushed through her. Need, want and fear. The pain, the grief, all of it rose up to swamp her. His gentleness, his beautiful green eyes, the fit and feel of his mouth on hers. She longed for him, for the tenderness he’d shown but she couldn’t bear it. She hardly knew him, she wanted to know more and she didn’t want to know more. Whatever he was doing was dangerous. She couldn’t go through that again. Not that pain, not the grief.

She remembered the phone call, that terrible phone call. It had come from far away but the voice was so clear, until she’d heard the words that were said. Scott’s father. Then everything faded away for a bit. It had been incomprehensible. Impossible. She couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. She was too far away. It had all seemed unreal as that voice in her ear said awful things.

“There’s been an accident. A drunk driver hit him. Come home, Ariel, you have to come home, quickly.” There had been a pause. “I’m sorry, there’s no easy way to say it. He’s dying. Ari, you have to come home, fast. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Scott.

Her fiancé. The man she’d loved as desperately.

She’d tried.

There had been no direct flight home, no easy way. No way to get there fast, not from where she’d been. Driving wouldn’t have gotten her back any faster. She’d taken the earliest, quickest flight home. It had been a nightmare. She wouldn’t cry, she had refused to cry, because it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t possibly have been true.

It had been.

As hard as she’d tried, as frantic as she’d been, it hadn’t been quick enough. Determined to get to him, to get home, to reach him in time, she’d bottled up her fear and her tears. Locked them inside as she frantically scrambled to find a way home. Only to discover once she’d gotten there that she could no longer cry. All those tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed were trapped inside her, burning like acid in her chest and throat but she couldn’t release them, couldn’t let go. The pain and the grief were awful but no matter how terribly she hurt she couldn’t weep.

It was too late. He was already gone.

There had been no chance to say goodbye and no time to tell him how very much she’d loved him. So he would know before he went.

Everyone had been saying words, a jumble of nonsense. Gone. So very sorry. Those words had nearly put her on her knees, a hand pressed to the tearing pain in her chest, against the ache that ripped through her heart. It burned within her, as if her grief had seared her heart to ashes.

It didn’t seem real. It wasn’t possible that she would never be able to look into those beloved brown eyes again, or hear his voice, or feel his arms around her. Gone. He was gone, before she could reach him, before she could say goodbye.

Now there were times when she couldn’t remember his face, not after she’d tried so hard for so long not to. Each time she remembered it had torn a new hole in her heart. He was gone and suddenly she was alone. It was so unexpected she couldn’t seem to comprehend it.

The grief had nearly destroyed her and it sometimes seemed as if it would never end. She kept tripping over fresh reminders, little things around the house they’d shared, places they’d gone or movies they’d watched together. The tearing agony of his loss, his absence, had tormented her.

In time it had gotten easier. The pain had become more bearable, dulling slowly and gradually from a sharp acid burning in her chest to a muted ache. Now there were days and sometimes a whole week when she wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t remember.

After a while she’d tried to date. Most had been disasters. One had seemed nice enough but he’d wanted too much from her too fast. She hadn’t been ready, she couldn’t give him what he wanted. And she’d been afraid. There had been others. Another had tried to kiss her, too hard and too wet, too insistent, his tongue thrusting into her mouth.

Another face, though, was clear and sharp in her memory. A strong and ruggedly handsome face, with brilliant green eyes and that firm mouth. It had felt so good against her own.

Matthew. She wanted him so badly, wanted to care about him and that shook her to her core. A part of her wanted to take that risk, to try. Except that what he was doing was dangerous.

If she let go, let him get close, what then? What would happen if he got hurt? Or worse. Her heart wrenched. She couldn’t bear the thought of it. Not that pain. She couldn’t face it. Not again. That tearing grief, the aching loneliness and the aloneness.

She wanted to scream, ‘I can’t’.

It hurt too much to want and then to lose it.

The thought hit her and took her to her knees, a cry bursting out of her. She leaned her forehead against the foot of the bed and wept. The grief and the sorrow she’d kept at bay for so long poured out. Sobbing, as she thought about what was and what might have been. She should never have let it happen, never have let him get this close. She should never have let herself begin to care. It was better, safer, not to. Then she wouldn’t hurt so much.

Wanting and needing, she bowed around her aching heart, wrapped her arms around herself and rocked as grief burned through her.

That tearing cry of agony from within the room tore Matt’s heart to shreds. So much pain. He listened to her sob and wanted to pound on the door, demanding she let him in so he could make it better. Soothe it. Take her in his arms and rock her, hold her and console her.

She wouldn’t let him in now, though, and he knew it. He’d caused it.

What had happened? Someone she’d loved had died but there was much more to it than that.

Matt listened to that helpless weeping. He remembered her bright smiles, the light in her brilliant blue eyes. They came so naturally to her, yet beneath had hidden this terrible grief.

The storm of weeping eventually spent itself, her crying eased and tapered off but he didn’t leave until it was done. Whether she knew it or not, he would stand for her in this. He stayed by the door until it was quiet inside, thinking.

Ariel had been the target this time. Why?

What had changed?

None of the three who’d worked him over had gotten a good look at her, of that he was reasonably certain. If they had he was sure they would’ve moved on her before now. Nor had her intervention in Birmingham seemed to be anything other than innocent. She’d been there for a few more days and they’d done nothing. So, why the change? And why now? He didn’t know but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Until he knew, he intended to stay close.

Fortunately, the hotel had a room available but not on the same floor.

At least he would be fairly close, where he could keep an eye on her. Be close to her. She wouldn’t be alone. Not completely alone.

For the moment she was safe in her room. He doubted she would leave it again tonight, since she had to be exhausted. It was safe enough for him to leave her while he checked out of the hotel room he’d booked.

Keeping a watchful eye out for the stooges, he went back to his hotel to get his things. He knew the tricks for avoiding them. How to lose a tail, how to spot one. It sure as hell wouldn’t do Ariel any good if they caught him flatfooted again. Staying alert and wary, he returned to her hotel. As he waited at the elevator, he took a look around. No sign of the stooges. A bar off the lobby and a little juice bar down the hall from the elevators were good vantage points, places where he could sit and watch but remain hidden. He would keep an eye on her. The stooges had been after her for a reason, he wanted to know what it was.

Tomorrow night, late, once he was sure she was in bed and safe, he would check out Marathon’s offices here.

Matt rode the elevator back up to her floor, searching for a place where he could keep a watch on her door, a place of concealment since he couldn’t very well hang around outside her room. There was some kind of storage room down the hall. The lock was simple, yielding to him easily enough. He could watch from there, know when she went in and out. The surveillance camera by the elevator didn’t have a very good view of this part of the hall. If he wore a white shirt and black slacks as the hotel staff did security would assume he was one of them. His black jeans would do well enough.

He wondered if she was an early riser and decided not to chance it. He was, you had to be on a ranch. Horses needed to be fed, watered and their stalls mucked out. When he was away on a trip like this, he had a hired hand who came in to do it for him. There was his day job as well. He was lucky it was one he liked and was proud to do, one that was guaranteed for as long as he wanted it. Even so, he didn’t take advantage of it, for his own pride as well as respect for Darrin.

Ariel woke groggy. Her eyes burned and her sinuses were tight from crying. Her head pounded. She felt like hell. Dragging herself out of bed, she stood in the shower to let the hot water pound on the stiff muscles of her neck and back. The steam also helped loosen her sinuses. For a little while she simply let the hot water do the work.