Setting Him Free (9 page)

"Do you think I haven't tried?"

"Then try harder." It came out a bit harsher than she
intended. All this talk of giving up, it was scaring her. No one
was giving up on her watch.

"What does the file look like? Tell me?"

"What does it matter?"

"It matters. Tell me."

"Okay, I'm looking for the flash drive. A flash drive
I'll never see again."

"You will, Taylor. Find it and get your life
back."

"Bossy bint, aren't you?"

"Bint?" Danielle relaxed the grip on his face,
leaving her hands resting loosely on his cheeks, caressing them
gently with her thumbs. "I wish I could see you properly. What kind
of word is
bint?"

"It's a...The hell with this." Taylor hooked his arm
around her neck and yanked her in for a kiss that left her lips
burning. "Too much bloody talking," he mumbled against her mouth.
"Not enough of this."

"Painkillers have kicked in, then?" Danielle sucked
in a breath and slid her hands under his tee-shirt, gliding over
the hard-packed muscles beneath his smooth skin. His jeans were
still open. She dipped a hand into the waistband.

"Ahh, Danielle," he groaned when she started stroking
him to a painful hardness. "Reckon this is our window. Come here."
His mouth came down on hers again and he hauled her onto his lap.
Danielle hooked a knee over his thighs, careful this time not to
disturb his broken arm.

"Help me," she said tugging at her underwear. It took
a bit of manoeuvring, and made them both giggle, especially the
moment when she triumphantly revealed the condom. Practical
Danielle, even in the throes of passion.

Danielle stopped for a moment, to tenderly stroke his
cheek, overawed that, no matter how desperate the situation, they'd
managed to find some joy in it. Taylor leaned into her hand and
covered it with his.

"Danielle," he whispered, low and husky against her
palm.

She held her breath, wondering what he was going to
say.

"Bet you've got beautiful breasts," he said. "Let me
see."

"It's dark."

"I have good night vision." He fingered a button.
"Let me take this off you."

How much he could really see, she didn't know. The
blouse slipped from her shoulders and she felt him fumbling with
the catch of her bra, cursing under his breath while trying to undo
it one-handed. The bra, too, fell away. His thumb brushed her
nipple and she let out a shivering moan.

"Do that again," he said. There was laughter in his
voice.

"Only if you do."

"Oh, I can do better than that, love. Give me that
condom and let me show you."

It was sinful, what he could do with his mouth.
Danielle abandoned herself to the rasp of his tongue and moved in
time with his gentle suckling, almost unaware of the moment he
slipped inside her. She abandoned herself to the feel of him and
let the wave take her. And this time they found the real passion
that had been simmering under the surface since that first,
meaningful glance. Now she knew who he was, and she still wanted
him. Gone was the desperation of earlier and there were no tears.
Just two people lost in pleasure, wanting and giving. Lost in the
incredible feeling of a perfect moment.

Danielle was on that beach with him, and she
could
hear the sea, and feel the sun on her back. Somehow,
one day, it would happen. She pressed her face into the curve of
his shoulder and knew no-one else would ever come close. How could
they, after this?

Taylor woke early and lay still, watching Danielle
sleep. Today should have been his first day in hell. The first day
of an eternity of paying for his unspeakable crimes. Yet he was
alive, and lying next to this beautiful woman. As he contemplated
her, he realised that he was looking at the face of his salvation.
Redemption, but with a sting in the tail, a price.
Hell, there
always was.
Even if she saved him, they could never be
together.

This little bit of heaven had set him on the right
path, but Danielle was too vibrant and full of life for him to
expect her to follow. She was willing, no doubt of that. Trouble
was that he could never ask it of her. Redeemed or not, he didn't
have much of a life to look forward to. If he could do what he
needed to get the file – and it was a big if – the best he could
hope for was a new identity. An obscure life hidden in some quiet
corner of the world, always with the risk that someone with a
grudge would find him. Governments, the criminal underworld,
organised crime neither forgave nor forgot, and they'd get him. One
day when he wasn't looking. Not the life for her.

He brushed the hair from Danielle's face and traced a
finger down her nose, across her mouth, her chin, hoping she'd wake
up. This time together was definitely too precious to waste
sleeping.

She stirred and stretched out her arms, arching her
bare breasts enticingly towards him. In the soft morning light,
half-naked and with the crazy tangle of hair forming a golden pool
around her head, she looked like something other-worldly. A divine
gift sent to sooth his shattered soul. Only a madman would refuse
this.

Catching one of her hands, he placed a lingering kiss
on the palm and watched her mouth curve into a lazy smile as she
moved from the world of dreams to waking. He turned his attention
to her wrist and kissed it slowly, thoughtfully, learning how she
tasted first thing in the morning.

Without realising, she gave him the greatest gift of
all. Her trust in him. Her belief that something could be salvaged
from his shipwrecked life. With her eyes still closed, Danielle
moulded herself to him, pushing him on to his side so he wouldn't
have to lean on his broken arm. Her calf slid sensuously around his
thigh. She pulled him down for a soul-searching kiss and her lips
were warm and sweet and made him forget who he was.

Just for a few moments he could imagine he was Mr
Ordinary, with the wife, the house, the kids and the dog. And a job
that didn't involve spilling people's brains with a high-powered
rifle, or watching their lives drain away when he cut their
throats. A life that didn't involve hiding in the shadows, so
ashamed of what he'd become he no longer recognised himself.

As he slipped inside her welcoming heat and abandoned
himself to the incredible feel of her surrounding him, he
desperately wanted to be that man. And just for a short while, as
the flames of passion flared and consumed them both, he was.

* * *

Danielle dreamed of drowning in kisses. A warm mouth
caressed her, a smooth tongue slid against hers. Someone moaned
softly and her skin caught fire at the touch of gentle hands
stroking sensitive flesh. A deep, husky voice enticed and seduced
with words of dark passion. Swept her away with the wonderful
feeling of abandonment that comes when you are so completely
overwhelmed that all you can do is go with it and trust you'll
survive.

He made love to her in her dream, and when her eyes
fluttered open she thought she must still be dreaming. It was too
good, too perfect. Like nothing she'd ever felt before. He touched
every part of her, and she knew it was his goodbye.

Taylor shifted away and Danielle sat up, running
fingers through her hair, rubbing eyes gritty with lack of sleep,
adjusting to the new day. A day that would be the most difficult
she'd ever faced. She glanced at her watch. Already eight o'clock.
Rescue teams would be out looking for the plane. They probably
didn't expect to find survivors, but they were going to find
one.

A guarded expression clouded Taylor's face as he
handed over her clothes. Danielle had no idea what he was thinking
and felt surprisingly self-conscious in the cold morning light. She
dressed quickly with Taylor staring at her, his brow slightly
furrowed, as if trying to puzzle something out.

His finger hooked under her chin and she stayed very
still while he studied her intently, staring into his dark blue
eyes, trying to show him how she felt. Tried to pour into that look
all the love she dared not speak, because surely it was too soon to
be talking of love? How could she be falling in love with a man
she'd only met yesterday? Things like that only happened in books
and films, not in real life. It
didn't
, she told herself
firmly, and then felt panic rising in her chest because maybe it
was true, and it did happen in real life, and it was happening to
her.

The scent of him was already familiar. Danielle
slipped her arms around his back and pressed her face against his
neck, inhaling on a shaky breath.

"You must go. You know that," she whispered against
his damp skin. "I don't want you to go, but you must." Even as she
said the words that would send him away, she held on to him with a
quiet desperation.
Go? Stay?
Two impossible choices. One
only marginally better than the other. Both of them offering a good
possibility of him being killed. She couldn't bear it. Tears fell
once again, and this time she didn't think she'd be able to stop
them.

* *

As he listened to her quiet sobs, Taylor felt as if
his heart might finally do what it had been threatening for the
past two years, and shatter beyond repair. For an all too brief
moment after the crash, he'd really believed the Fates had taken
pity on him and decided to cut him a very much needed break. Not
only that, they'd thrown Danielle into the bargain and made him
feel something akin to hope. But they'd merely been playing with
him. He realised that now. Showing him a tantalising glimpse of
what might have been, and now that he'd seen it and lived it, they
were tearing it away from him.

He had to know perfect happiness to feel perfect
despair, and he knew now that he would be in hell regardless.
Needed to pay for those sins, and then some. And that death wish
he'd been nursing for so long was still there, lingering in the
back of his mind, squashing down the hope, trampling on any dreams
of a future. It hadn't gone away, only taken a brief holiday.

He wound a handful of Danielle's hair around his
fist, pulling it too tight, causing her to look up at him with
tear-blinded eyes, and he kissed her hard and long, bruising her
lips with the intensity of his need. He tasted tears, and didn't
know whose they were.

* * *

He was giving up again. Danielle could feel it,
almost as if she could read his thoughts. How could she let him go
like this? No telling what he might do. The thought frightened her
beyond belief. She'd never been depressed before, but she'd watched
a close friend cycle in and out of hope and despair. Had spent
hours on the phone convincing her that life was worth living, and
it was that contact with another human being that had saved
her.

It was what Taylor needed. Only she didn't have days,
just a few hours – maybe not even that – to convince him he wasn't
alone, he could get his life back, and that she would be waiting
for him when he did. More than anything, she had to let him know
that this was worth the fight.

Time for her to be the strong one again. She wiped
away the tears, and took his hand in hers.

"Taylor?"

Yesterday she hadn't really known what to do other
than hold him. Now she knew exactly what he needed.

"Please, you can do this, and I'll wait for you, no
matter how long it takes."

Taylor pulled his hand from hers and wiped his
forearm across his eyes. He sniffed and shook his head. "Hell, I'm
a wreck, Danielle. I should be dead now. Had it all worked out and
wanted it. Then you came along, and I was glad I wasn't." He looked
sideways at her, lifted his hand and dropped it back to his lap.
"And now I want to be again."

"Why?" Danielle's heart started a heavy, panicked
thudding.
What if I can't convince him? What then?

"Because I'm tired of it all. I'll never get anywhere
near that file, and without it I can't have a life or be with you.
So what's the point?"

"The point is..." She angled her head and placed a
soft kiss on his lips. "This." She did it again. "And this. Don't
you feel it? Isn't it worth fighting for?"

Taylor turned away, covered his face with his arm and
leaned back against the seat. "That just makes it worse, don't you
see? Knowing what it could be like, and knowing I can't have it. I
actually woke up happy this morning. For the first time in so long,
I woke up and heard the birds singing, and I sat and looked at you
and felt like a love-struck teenager all over again. But this isn't
real life." He dropped his arm and stared at the roof of the plane.
"That's what's waiting out there for us out there."

"And you'll get yours back. You've got to believe
it."

"It's not just the file. It's me. All those things
I've done. I can't take them back. Can't say sorry. I have to live
with it. And it's hard, too bloody hard."

"I know it's hard. Come here." Danielle tried to
gather him to her. He resisted and pulled away.

"Please, Taylor, let me." She traced the line of his
arm, tugging gently until he gave up and let her pull him in for a
hug. She wasn't sure who needed it more at that moment. All this
talk of giving up was scaring her to death. She wanted him to
leave, but part of him seemed to have gone from her already. She
needed to get it back before she could let him go properly.

"Look."
How do I play this, gentle or stern
?
She didn't know if he needed to be pushed or pulled, only that what
she said next was important.

"I'll come with you."

"You can't. Too dangerous."

"Yes, I know I'd be a liability. I'd come if I could,
though. You need to know that. I believe you're still a good man.
You're just a bit lost, that's all."