Absolution (37 page)

Luke swallowed past the constriction in his throat. “He knew it was the right thing to do,” he answered softly. “And he... I think he did it as a final gift to me.” Because Tehrazzi had assumed they would both die on that boat. Everything he did had a pointed motive. Tehrazzi was all about poignancy.

Releasing Emily had been a last gesture of kindness to acknowledge the close friendship they’d once shared. Luke was sure of that.

Her fingers were gentle against his bare cheek.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It must have been hell for you.”

Emily had always known what was in his heart.

Better than he did. And she knew how torn up he was over having to take Tehrazzi’s life.

The tears he’d kept at bay suddenly flooded his eyes and he looked away. Maybe it was because he was exhausted or still suffering the after effects of the anesthetic, or the fact he kept seeing Emily jumping on that damn boat as it pulled away from the dock, but he couldn’t keep up the brave front anymore. His voice cracked despite himself. “I stayed with him,” he said unsteadily. “Till it was over.”

Nodding, she stared up at him with loving eyes.

But they were bruised underneath. And her skin was too pale, almost transparent. Fragile, yet she was loyal and goddamn brave enough to break his heart. “So he wasn’t alone at the end,” Emily finished quietly.

The end...
The words echoed in his head as he stared through tear-blurred eyes at the woman he’d never stopped loving. She believed she didn’t have much time left. Sweat bloomed on his upper lip. Oh, sweet Jesus, she couldn’t die.

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Reeling from the spurt of panic, Luke grabbed Emily’s shoulder in a desperate grip. “Don’t you leave me, Em.” She’d been through hell and back, but she had so much strength inside of her. Enough to fight this.

She stared at him, lips parting in surprise. He was coming unglued and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. The thought of her dying made him feel like someone was clawing out his insides with a red-hot poker. “I couldn’t take that. You’ve gotta fight this, Em.” He didn’t deserve her. He’d never deserved her, but he was going to make up for that. He would make her
live,
God dammit.

She licked her lips. “I’m trying, Luke.”

Not good enough. “No. You have to beat it.” He shook her once, aware he was on the verge of having a meltdown, but his legendary cool was gone. “You understand me? You have to win.
Promise
me.”

Emily smiled and wiped his tears away before they could fall. “I’ve waited twenty years to get you back. You think I’d leave you now?” She pressed a hard kiss to his lips, as good as a vow. “Not a chance.

Now come on. Let’s get you tucked into bed.”

The sick, hollow feeling in his gut remained as she got him back into bed and tucked the covers around him. Her hands were so gentle.

“Need anything else?”

“You,” he answered roughly, pulling her down beside him, desperate to feel her warm and alive up against his body. “God dammit, Em, I
need
you.”

Grabbing her as tight as he could with his bandaged arm in the way, Luke buried his face in her neck and shook. Holding on to her, he fought his darkest fear and prayed he wasn’t too late. “I’m sorry,” he managed finally. “For everything. For every damn time I did something that hurt you.”

Sorry didn’t come close to cutting it, but he didn’t know what else to say. Christ, if he could go back in 305

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time to the day he’d left her, he’d undo all of it. So many things in his life he wished he’d done differently.

“I know,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of understanding. “And I forgive you. Now it’s time to forgive yourself.”

He wasn’t sure he could. Not yet.

But he couldn’t go back and fix everything. Now he could only go forward. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to hold back the sob that rose up from the depths of his chest. “Need you,” he repeated hoarsely.

“Luke, you’ve got me. You’ve always had me, and you know it.”

He did, and he had. God, he was such an asshole.

She cradled him like a child and broke his heart all over again. “I’m willing to start over if you are,”

she said softly.

He nodded, unable to speak, and pressed his face hard against her. A shudder wracked him and then a sob burst free, shaming him.

“Shhh,” she soothed, cradling him tighter. Her hands smoothed over his hair and neck, the gesture achingly familiar, so comforting. “It’s okay to let go now. You know you’re safe with me.”

He stopped fighting the inevitable and lost it.

Held securely in her arms, Luke put his head down and cried for the first time in memory. It all poured out. The guilt over leaving her and Rayne; the lonely years without her; the regret of not fixing things sooner. Losing Davis. The pain of having to kill Tehrazzi and the fear he might still lose Emily.

It all came out in an agonizing blast. Em handled it perfectly because she didn’t say a word. She held him through it, caressing his hair and his shuddering back. When it was over, his eyes were so swollen he could hardly open them. He’d soaked the 306

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front of her sweater. He tried to wipe at it, but she merely sat up and pulled it over her head.

Oh, Christ yes.
“Take it all off.” His words were rough and gravelly. He needed to feel her naked against him, to reassure himself she was safe and real. He was starved for it.

She paused only a moment before taking off the rest, including her bra. Facing him naked with the morning sun filtering through the blinds, his heart swelled at the sight of her, scars and all. So beautiful and courageous he thought he might cry again. Then she eased down beside him and drew his head to her naked chest. The scent of vanilla and clean female skin drifted up, surrounding him like a cozy blanket.

Luke rested his cheek on the softness of her left breast and kissed the scars on her right side, humbled by her trust. “I love you so much, Em.”

In answer she kissed the top of his head and cuddled in closer. “Love you too. Now go to sleep.”

The demons that had driven him for so long had finally been laid to rest. After all these years apart, they would finally have a second chance. He was damn well going to get it right this time.

Surrounded by Emily’s loving arms, he heaved a weary sigh and let himself fall into a deep, healing sleep.

307

Kaylea Cross

Charleston, SC

Three months later

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Emily smiled at the feel of Luke’s lips against her bare shoulder. “Morning,” she said without opening her eyes, and fought a yawn. She was so damn tired all the time.

More delicious kisses skimmed across her skin and she sighed in pleasure. “Keep that up and you might turn radioactive.”

“I’ll risk it.” He leaned over her and kissed her forehead, his thumb rubbing across the new wedding band on her left hand. He’d had her old one melted down and remade for the ceremony at St. Michael’s a few weeks back. “Still tired?”

“Yes.” Always.

“Want some tea?”

“Mmm, please.” She didn’t want to face the fact that she had another radiation treatment in a few hours. Five days a week, for six weeks. She was only on day four.

The first treatment had made her so queasy she’d made Luke pull over on the way home so she could throw up at the side of the road. He’d tried to hold the ends of her wig back for her but she’d slapped him away, annoyed and embarrassed. Later, she’d felt badly. He’d only wanted to help. He’d been fussing over her like a mother hen ever since he’d come back to Bryn’s house in Beirut.

But she didn’t want to think about Beirut 308

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anymore. That was all in the past. She needed to focus on the future. Right now though, her eyelids were too heavy to pull open. She wasn’t nauseated anymore, and that was a gift in itself. The mattress was soft beneath her and the warmth of the comforter was so delicious that she let herself slide back into sleep.

She stirred sometime later when a puff of cool air hit her legs, then Luke was rubbing his face against her naked stomach. The perfect smoothness of his cheeks made her smile. He must have shaved again before coming back upstairs. He was always considerate of her that way, careful not to abrade her tender skin now that she marked so easily. The absence of the beard pleased her immensely, and not just because his clean-shaven skin felt good against hers. It meant he wasn’t going back overseas, and that nobody would call him in the middle of the night to respond to some terrorism crisis. Though she gave him another month, tops, before he dove back into some kind of security consulting work.

Otherwise he’d wind up pacing around like a caged animal being in the house with her all the time.

Hot kisses and slow caresses trailed across her stomach, over one hip bone, starting a delicious throb between her thighs. Sighing, Emily eased a hand into his short, thick hair and stretched out, waiting for him to touch the vulnerable folds between her legs. Dying with the anticipation of it.

His fingers brushed over her swelling labia, drawing a soft moan from her throat as he teased her.
More
, she willed him, opening for his touch. He shifted a little, and she caught the faint click of a teacup being placed in its saucer before his hands went to her thighs to hold her still. Without warning, she felt a shocking warmth between her legs. “Oh!” she cried, jerking up on her elbows.

A hot, smooth stroke followed her exclamation, 309

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right over her most sensitive flesh. His tongue, but superheated. It felt so good it loosened her muscles and made her head fall back. “Luke...” God, had he taken a sip of her tea before going down on her?

The low purr of enjoyment that vibrated against her core was his only response before he parted her with his fingers and lapped at her like melting ice cream. She moaned and lifted her hips, helpless under the lash of decadent pleasure. He stroked slow and steady against her sensitive flesh, licking tenderly over her swelling clit, flicking his tongue over it. Her hands sank into his hair again. It seemed like forever since they’d been intimate.

“Luke...”

He stopped, and a second later his hand shot out from beneath the blankets to grab the fragile handle of her teacup. It disappeared beneath the comforter and a moment later his hot tongue treated her to another luscious caress. Her eyes closed in bliss as she fell back against the mattress and let him love her. The pleasure rose soft and bright inside her, sharpening when he sucked on her clit gently. He slid a finger inside and rubbed right over the mysterious spot that made her twist and moan, his tongue licking slow and sweet until he had her panting and pressing into his touch.

It was always like this with him. He turned her on so fast she was on the verge of coming within minutes, and the fact that he relished every second of her response only made it hotter. The feel of his fingers moving inside her amplified the pleasure tenfold.

Her body moved intuitively beneath his touch while he held her in place, drawing out the pleasure.

Emily was liquid with it, desperate for release when he suddenly stopped. Gasping, she raised the covers.

“What—”

Luke moved over her, settling atop her as he 310

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raised her legs and gently brought her knees over his broad shoulders. “I want to feel you come around me,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her.

She tasted herself and spicy chai tea on his lips before his tongue delved inside to caress hers. Then he shifted and entered her with a smooth thrust that made her spine curl. She cried out into his mouth and grabbed his upper arms, the muscles bulging beneath her fingers as he shifted forward.

Trembling, she opened her eyes and stared up at him, waiting. His bottomless brown eyes gazed back at her, full of hunger and tenderness. “I love you, Em,” he murmured, pulling back.

God, he was so thick and hard inside her. She struggled to form the words, her body throbbing, straining for release. “I l-love you t—”

Luke surged forward, the position seating him impossibly deep. It could have hurt if he hadn’t been so careful with her. But he moved gently within her, using that smooth pumping motion he knew made her wild.

The intense friction was incredible. “Ohhh…”

“I know.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “God you’re gorgeous.”

Emily clenched her hands around his biceps and cried out, catching fire in his arms. When he finally reached one hand between them to stroke her aching clitoris, she thought she’d scream from the pleasure.

“More,” she begged, struggling to open wider, give him better access.

Expert fingers moved in sweet, unhurried circles over her slick flesh. “Yeah. Feel me, Em. Feel how good it is.” He was magnificent rising and falling above her, his whole body a fluid ripple of muscle and bone, eyes intent on her face.

“Ah God,
Luke
…”

“Come for me then, baby.” He crooned it, moving faster now in an endless, sensual rhythm. Short, 311

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sharp strokes that caressed her inner walls and hit just the right place over and over.

Her body tightened around him, throbbed, the pressure building impossibly high. Throwing her head back, she let out a fractured moan as her body exploded around him. Waves of pleasure coursed through her, her heart turning over when he reared back and groaned with his own release, muscles standing out in his chest and shoulders and arms.

When it faded, he gently unhooked her quivering legs from his shoulders and settled them on the bed before laying his head on her, right over her incision site and the scar where the IV port had been.

Trying to catch her breath, Emily wrapped her arms around him. She stroked his damp hair and smoothed her fingers over the healed scars in his left shoulder.

Luke sighed and nestled in closer, tucking his hands beneath her back. “I love retirement.”

Laughing breathlessly, she kissed the top of his dark head. She loved this part of it too. Things hadn’t always been easy since they’d come back stateside, though. He still slept with a loaded pistol in the bedside table. His startle reflex was more noticeable now that they were home and she picked up on the tension in him whenever they were in a crowd or in heavy traffic. As though he was still on alert for threats. It would probably fade in time, but he’d always carry that trait with him to some extent.