Sweet Seduction Shield (17 page)

I should know,
I'd seen the debts all written in black and white, in a leather
bound notebook, which I had stolen over five years ago. Hell, I
could even go dig it up and read through the names and know exactly
who was helping out the tattooed freak.

No, this
wasn't going to stop and it could potentially get worse now. More
accomplices or acquaintances called in to pay back a debt. Next
time the outcome might be different. Next time Ben might not make
it back. Adam could be killed as well. Abi? She works for ASI too,
could she be next?

This was bigger than just Daisy and me now. I knew this.
Pierce had known it from the start. The moment I came under
McLaren's attention again, Pierce knew other's would be at risk as
well. Those obligated to protect us. Those
just doing
their job
.

"You OK?" Ben
asked, in his gruff, low voice.

I shook my
head. No, I was not OK. I had serious doubts about ever being OK
again. But could I change it? Could I change the future by taking a
further risk with our lives? Did I have a choice?

This was not
going to stop, it was going to get worse. And people, I was quickly
becoming to care for, could die.

I wanted to talk to Daisy about it. To get her opinion, to ask
her what she wanted to do. But she is only five years old. I'm the
adult. It was up to me to make this decision. A decision I
did
not
want to make, but I had to,
in order to save more than just one person in the end.

"I need to
talk to Pierce," I said, noting my voice sounded scratchy and a
little too scared.

"Good call,"
Ben said gruffly, and turned on his heel heading back to the house.
I wasn't sure if I should follow him. But I didn't think my legs
would carry me right now.

I sat and waited, swinging on my swing. I wondered who else
was watching. Eric at ASI? Those two names Ben mentioned doing
perimeter checks? The women from inside the house? They seemed
capable of eavesdropping. Hell, I'd led the charge on the
eavesdropping front when we were outside the kitchen before. It
didn't matter, this was going to be purely professional. Me talking
to a cop, who was just doing his job.

Pierce walked
out of the house, down the steps on the deck, and across the lawn
towards me. He looked tired, worn down. Wary. And could that be
regretful? Yeah, I think that's what I saw. A whole lot of
wish-I'd-played-this-differently streaming across his handsome
face.

"Hey," he
said, when he came within talking distance. "You wanted to see
me?"

I nodded, still swinging, staring right up into those gorgeous
brown eyes that seemed to go on forever. I blinked and looked away,
clearing my throat. Great way to start the
professional
conversation.

"I know you
were just doing your job," I said, and he moved closer, then
surprised me by sitting down on the grass at my feet.

What a strange
thing to do.

"It's my job
to protect you, Marie," he said, stretching his legs out in front
of him and resting back on straight arms. "I failed. I'm
sorry."

That wasn't
what I wanted an apology for. But if he couldn't work that out,
then I wasn't going to be the one to educate him.

I took a deep
breath in and stared up at the blue sky. Clouds skittered across
it, breaking up the monotony, creating a canvas of interesting
shapes and shadows.

"You want the
ledger," I said, and heard Pierce suck in a deep breath.

"It's a
ledger?" he asked. "What of?"

"Every single
business transaction, every single extortion he enacted, every
single favour owed him, from the ten years prior to Rick's
death."

Silence. I
tipped my head down and looked at him. He was breathing a little
quickly, staring at the ground, thinking it all through.

"Names, dates
and amounts?" he asked, not looking up.

"Yes, as well
as what 'jobs' he got them to do in payment. The descriptions are
sometimes quite elaborate. Some even have pictures attached."

"Motherfucker," Pierce breathed. Yeah, I could see the appeal to a
cop who'd worked so tirelessly to capture an arsehole like
McLaren.

I returned my
gaze to the sky, swung a little, and waited for his verdict. For
the moment he said, 'let's go get it, then'. But it didn't come.
Several minutes later and he hadn't said a word. I tipped my head
down again, and this time found him watching my every move.

"Well?" I
said, holding his intense gaze. "This is what you want, isn't
it?"

"Is Rick in
that book?" he asked, and I stopped swinging. "Are you?"

"Would it
matter if we were?"

"Yes," he
answered immediately, and my heart stopped.

He'd prosecute
me. He'd do his job.

"This is
what I do, Marie. This is my job."
His
remembered words cut like a knife. More now, than they did back
then.

I stared at
the ground for a long time, before he came to his knees and knelt
before me. Less than a foot away. I could reach out and touch him,
if I uncurled my fingers from around the ropes holding the swing
aloft. I didn't. He was further away than he'd ever been.

Had he really
been within touching distance at all?

"Marie," he
said softly. "You don't have to do this."

And my heart
kicked into life again.

"We can put you in the witness protection programme, hide you
from any fallout McLaren may cause. We'll find a way.
I'll
find a way to keep you safe without
the book."

"Why?" I
asked, genuinely dumbfounded that he'd suggest this after
everything he'd done to get it.

"Because I've
just watched you lying immobile in a bed, unconscious for almost a
whole day."

What?

He ran a hand
through his hair, leaving his palm at the back of his neck and took
a deep breath in. Opened his mouth. Closed it. And then opened it
again.

"Ah, fuck," he
muttered, then shot to his feet and began to pace.

I watched him,
stunned at his behaviour. Surprised to find the Detective Pierce I
knew so discombobulated.

"I've been
fighting it," he said softly. For a moment I wasn't sure if he was
talking to himself or me. "But whenever I take a step back to
breathe all I see is you on the floor of your office, under your
desk."

My eyebrows
shot up and I took a quick glance around the backyard, trying to
see who was listening in on this. I couldn't spot them, but that
didn't mean they weren't there. I was about to point this out to
Pierce, when he started talking again.

"Then a day,
that felt like a year, sitting with Daisy by your side. Seeing how
much she loves you. Seeing how strong she was being for you. Seeing
how much like her mother she is. And I realised I'd made a fucking
mistake. The biggest fucking mistake of my life."

I sucked in my
bottom lip and just watched the man before me slowly unravel.

"I wish we
could start over," he said, still pacing, still not looking me in
the eyes. "There's so much I'd do differently. So much I'd tell
you, make you see sooner. But what's done is done now. And I can't
take it back. But I can stop it getting any worse."

He stopped
pacing then and took a step towards me. I was still sitting on the
swing, so he towered over me slightly, making me arch my back to
look up at him.

"You're
beautiful," he declared, and I wondered if he'd knocked his head in
that crash. "But it's what you've shown me on the inside that's
done it. You're beautiful inside and out. And I don't care whether
you're in that ledger or why. But I do care if you get hurt. And
that ledger obviously will do it, because you've guarded it with
your life."

He sucked in a
tortured breath and stood silently, obviously waiting for me to
reply. His right hand tapped his thigh steadily, an impatient
rhythm that let me know he was very keen to hear my answer.

I had no idea
what to say. He'd laid it all out there. Bared himself quite
unexpectedly and totally. It was all a little too much, truth be
told.

But I wasn't
bamboozled enough not realise what he was doing. Not to realise he
was jeopardising his job for me. For us.

I stood up
slowly from the swing and took one step closer to him. Tension hung
on the air between us, but surprisingly it wasn't awkward. It was
alive, like electricity. Pulsing, beating, constantly pulling,
drawing me closer.

I couldn't
deny it. I couldn't dissect it, make sense of it. But there was
something about this man that drew me in. Set my blood pumping, my
body tingling. He'd barely touched me. We'd not been remotely
intimate. It made absolutely no sense.

But I wanted
him.

And for a
moment, I stood there and tried to work out why. Yes, he was good
looking, in that bad boy goatee wearing, intense brown eyed way.
But just as he'd said my beauty was on the inside, as well as the
out, what attracted me to Ryan Pierce was on the inside too.

His morals, his code of ethics, his strength of character, his
right-side-of-the-law style.
That
was the Ryan Pierce my heart leapt for.
That
was the man that made me want to reach across the
space between us and test that electricity that hummed. To touch.
To be more intimate. To push what existed between us to the limits,
and then push some more.

I'd never felt
this way before. And I'm ashamed to say, I'd never felt this way
for Rick either.

But Rick had
never been like Ryan on the inside. Hadn't even come close.

I took the last step that brought me within touching distance,
right beneath his chin, practically against his chest. If we were
being watched, I didn't care. I had to hope that ASI were the only
ones monitoring and that any indiscretions on Ryan's part would not
make it back to his bosses. But I had to do this. I had to finally
touch.

It had always
been him who reached out. The brush of his hand in the dip of my
lower spine. A finger sweep across my cheek, tucking a piece of
hair behind my ears. His large palm in mine. I'd never reached for
him. Not once.

But I did
now.

My hand came
up and cupped his cheek, felt the bristle of his beard against
tender skin. My finger traced the edge of his jaw, noting it was
quite square and masculine. I hadn't picked that up, the goatee had
hidden it. My thumb ran along his bottom lip, taking in the
fullness, the smoothness, the heat. While my eyes devoured every
inch of his face. His high cheek bones, his V shaped eyebrows as he
slightly frowned. The flare of his nostrils with each stroke of my
finger and thumb. The heavy lidded eyes, that seemed to glow from
chestnut, to chocolate, to dark, rich espresso.

I licked my
lips and a soft groan emitted from between his teeth.

"What are you
doing?" he husked.

"Trusting
you," I replied, my voice soft, but with a sexy edge of roughness I
never knew it could posses.

"Marie," he
warned, my finger came up and pressed against his lips to get him
to stop.

"Ryan," I shot
back with a smirk at the surprise in his widening eyes. I'd never
called him by his given name, only ever by his surname to his
face.

"Well?" he
challenged against my finger, the movement sending a thrill right
through my centre to parts hidden below.

"I'm going to
kiss you," I advised confidently. His mouth tipped up into a smile.
"But just one thing," I whispered, leaning closer, letting my hot
breath replace my finger on his lips.

He licked
them.

"Don't you
dare change because of me."

He sucked in a
breath and pulled back slightly, but my hand snaked up and wrapped
around his neck, bringing him back.

"I like you
just the way you are," I added, my lips pressing softly into his,
just once. Just a peck, a taste of what was to come. "Inside and
out."

He groaned,
wrapped his arms around me, pulled me hard against his chest, his
groin, his thighs, and then commandeered my kiss completely, and
made it his own.

I liked that
too. But I don't think I needed to tell him... he could already
tell.

Everything else ceased to exist, but Ryan's lips on mine. A
firm press, a slanting stroke of smooth flesh, the lick of his
tongue along the bottom edge of my mouth. The encouraging nibble of
his lips on the corner. His hot breath, mingling with my hotter
breath. The sounds he was making; masculine, throaty, needy. The
bristle of his goatee against my chin, cheek, upper lip. Rather
than distract, it seemed to heighten my senses, making me want more
of that feeling
everywhere
.

I gasped when his teeth pulled on my bottom lip, nipping a bit
more firmly than I had expected. Every touch was more forceful than
I had expected. Pierce had been controlled, certain in his actions
and behaviour, well contained. But what he showed me now was
someone else. Someone who allowed himself that hunger, who
entertained it, explored it.
Owned it
.

And it matched
mine.

I'd had dates
over the past few years, nothing serious, nothing long term. The
occasional liaison that led to more, but not one of them had made
me crave. Had made me lose all sense of time and place. Had made
the world disappear and only the next kiss, touch, sensation...
matter. We were standing in the centre of a backyard next to a
house full of people, with more people walking the perimeter fence,
yet I didn't care. And what was more appealing, neither did
Ryan.