Absolution (9 page)

And yet he had. Driven by the knowledge that not only was he a threat to her and their son, but that he wasn’t good enough for her. She was the fairy-tale princess and he was a lowly soldier, destined to dream about her sitting by the warmth of the fire burning in the castle grate while he shivered outside in the cold, staying out of sight yet close enough to protect her. For more than twenty 65

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years he’d done that. But now he wasn’t sure he could stay away from her anymore, and that meant he had to go.

He needed to leave, yet she was so vulnerable standing there with that deep-seated fear in her big green eyes. It killed him not to touch her, not to be able to do anything to ease her. His resolve weakened.

He shouldn’t touch her; he knew better.

Touching her was both heaven and hell, but tonight even the bittersweet pain it always brought wasn’t enough to deter him. Nor was the fact that the last time he’d reached for her had been in this room, and a few seconds after that they’d both been naked and all over each other. None of that mattered in light of the fear and need he read in her eyes. Right now, no power on earth could keep him away from her any longer.

Luke stepped closer, close enough to catch the warmth from her body and for her light vanilla scent to torment him with a thousand bittersweet memories. She knew what was coming; he could see it in her guarded expression. But she didn’t turn away when he lifted a hand to skim his thumb across her cheekbone, light as a sigh. The brief contact sizzled over his skin, and instantly he got hard. She’d always had that effect on him.

His eyes went to the faint scar beneath her left ear. Her pulse beat hard and fast below the delicate skin where he could easily have severed her jugular vein. A few more ounces of pressure or a wrong move on her part and he would have. The knowledge sickened and shamed him. He’d rather have slit his own throat than ever harm her in any way, but it had happened nonetheless.

First that accidental nick when she’d snuck up on him in the kitchen. Right from the start he’d warned her not to startle him, but she’d come up 66

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behind him with the intention of being playful.

When she’d touched him, he’d pinned her up against the fridge with the knife below her jaw before he’d even realized it was her. He still had nightmares about the stricken look in her eyes as she’d stared up at him, like an animal caught in the jaws of a trap.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The whole time he’d pressed his shirt against the wound to stop the bleeding, he’d already made the decision to leave. He’d run from her and the damning knowledge he was a trip wire waiting to be triggered, and broken her heart. The ironic thing was, she didn’t seem to realize he’d left his behind with her.

Luke’s hand trailed over the velvet softness of her cheek until his fingertips caressed the pale line of the scar. A thousand words of apology crowded his throat but he didn’t want to break the spell between them by speaking. His other hand touched her shoulder and crept up to the nape of her neck where the hair lay in silky whorls, and squeezed his fingers around it gently. Her swift intake of breath made him glance up into her face, and the stark desire that made her pupils expand hit him like a body blow. A fine shiver passed through her as he drew her closer to him with the grip on her neck. Her elegant hands fluttered up to rest on his shoulders, making the muscles tense beneath her slim fingers.

Closing his eyes, Luke lowered his head to nuzzle her temple and fought back a groan when her fingers dug into his skin in response. She was so damn perfect to him, still gently rounded but firm, her scent a heady mix of innocence and sin. His beautiful Em.

He gently rubbed his cheek against hers, careful that his short beard didn’t chafe her smooth skin, and slid the hand at her jaw down her shoulder and arm to her waist. His fingers flexed against that firm 67

Kaylea Cross

flesh, wanting to explore so much more but holding himself in check. Luke dropped his head until his mouth brushed beneath her left ear, right over the scar he’d given her. She tensed in his embrace, a nervous swallow making the muscles in her throat undulate beneath his lips. He paused without moving away, teasing her with that light touch and the warm caress of his exhalations. When it was clear she wasn’t going to pull away, he pressed a lingering kiss there and squeezed his eyes shut.

I’m so sorry, Em
. He sent the words to her through the caress of his lips and the careful but desperate grip of his hands.
So damn sorry.

Emily swallowed again, then after a moment slowly tipped her head to the side to allow him greater access. He took it, tightening his hold on her and moving his body in close until it brushed against hers, opening his mouth to let his tongue stroke across the mark, tasting her exquisitely soft skin.

His erection pressed painfully against his jeans.

“Luke,” she quavered, her voice full of confusion and need.

He cradled the back of her head with his palm and reluctantly stopped what he was doing, bracing himself for the inevitable moment when she withdrew from him. But she surprised him by threading her hands into his hair and simply holding on, leaning into him.

Luke raised his head, and the breath got stuck in his throat. Emily’s eyes were wide and uncertain as she stared up at him, her fingers tangling in his hair to rub against his scalp. Like a kitten flexing its claws. He answered with a low growl of enjoyment and pressed back against the caress, watching her through lowered lids. The hunger was there as it always was, a pool of gasoline waiting for a match strike. It pulsed between them in the quiet and licked over his skin like flames. His gaze went to her 68

Absolution

lush mouth, mere inches from his. The full lower lip tempted him to bend closer, closer to brush that satin curve...

Emily jerked back with a gasp, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. But her hands remained in his hair, a stark contradiction to her first reaction. She was fighting this, the same as he was. But she was hungry. She wanted him every bit as badly as he wanted her. God help them both.

Unable to stop himself, Luke touched his lips to hers, a light brushing, both plea and demand. His body was raging hot, the taste and scent and feel of her igniting the inferno inside him. He paused there a moment, his mouth hovering a breath away from hers, then dipped down to taste her. Em made a low sound of protest in her throat and gave a tiny shake of her head, but her hands fisted in his hair, unwilling to let him go. He licked at her pouty bottom lip and settled his mouth completely over hers. A quiet whimper escaped her, and everything dominant in him demanded he possess his female, drawing out every sensual response he could from her while he satisfied them both.

Angling his head, he firmed his hold on the back of her skull and opened her lips beneath his.

One of her hands went to his shoulder. “No,” she whispered breathlessly.

Luke gentled his grip and slid his tongue over the seam of her lips, coaxing and seducing. In response she softened again, tilting her face up to his. Slowly, tenderly, he entered her mouth.

She moaned hungrily and leaned into his chest, trembling in his arms. Her tongue touched his, caressing, then slid deeper. Needing, the same as he did. Taking over the kiss, he let go of her waist and smoothed his palm up her ribs toward her breast.

On a harsh gasp, Emily wrenched away, stumbling back with one hand over her lips.

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The shocking pain in her eyes tore at him.

“Em—”

“No,” she gasped out. “I can’t do this—Oh God, why did I let you kiss me?” She spun around and wrapped her arms around her waist, putting her back to him.

His whole body ached, but not as badly as his heart. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She turned her head and looked at him. Her eyes were full of sorrow and a trace of fear. “I can’t go with you,” she finally said. “So if that was your way of coaxing me into it, sorry, but my answer’s still no.”

She knew damn well that’s not why he’d kissed her. He sighed. “Em, if it’s because of me—”

“It’s not.” She shook her head. “It’s not.”

The hell it wasn’t. “I won’t be there much, but if seeing me makes you uncomfortable I’ll stay somewhere else.” She started to shake her head again but he stopped her with an upraised hand.

“You’ve been fighting this all alone so far, but it won’t be like that from now on. Now you’ve got people that care about you to help you through this.

Let us carry some of the burden for a while.”

Tears glistened in her jewel-like eyes, reflecting the flames flickering in the fireplace. Her hands came up to her mouth, and he could see the trembling in them. It made him frantic to hold her, to pull her tight into his arms and against his body so she felt safe and protected. But he didn’t dare make a move to touch her this time. She was a second from bolting from the room.

He fought to maintain an impression of calm. “I won’t push you about this anymore tonight, but we don’t have a lot of time for you to warm up to the idea.” Walking past her was damn near as hard as leaving her the first time. He felt worse with every step, like he was deserting her all over again.

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“Luke...”

Her broken whisper cut him. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said, not daring to look at her. “Sleep well, Em.” Rayne was more than capable of looking out for the women for the time being, Luke told himself. Nobody needed or wanted him there anyhow.

Without looking back, he headed out the kitchen door into the cold December night. Nothing had changed. He was still the soldier doomed to spend the rest of his life watching the princess from afar.

****

Since I found out I’m
dying
!
He couldn’t get the words out of his head, because clearly she believed it. He couldn’t take it in. Couldn’t deal with it. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his bones hurt. She couldn’t be dying. Not now, and not like this. From the day he’d left and through the empty years without her, some subconscious part of him had always held out hope Em would be there waiting when he’d rectified his mistakes. The fact she might not be had his mind in chaos.

If only his superiors at Langley and CENTCOM

could see him now, he thought derisively, on the verge of having a meltdown. The renowned Mr. Cool had left the building, and all that remained was the screaming void where his darkest fears lay.

It had taken everything he had to walk out of the study and leave her there, frightened and hurting. It made his guts burn like lava to think of how truly afraid she was, how alone she was. He 71

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wanted to stay with her. Wanted to step up and be the man she’d always deserved instead of the one who’d run from his own insecurities. But until Tehrazzi was dealt with, he couldn’t give that to her.

Luke was the only one properly equipped for that job, and he’d made it his life’s mission to see it through. And at this point, he was the best shot the world had at bringing Tehrazzi out of hiding.

His cell vibrated against his belt but he ignored it. No way could he deal with anything until he’d calmed down. The blur of headlights whipped past him as he headed out of town through the darkened pastoral landscape into plantation country. The rage and violence followed him, demanding release. He fought them back.

Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this out of control. He’d built his reputation as an operator on the basis of his ability to stay cool no matter what, even if the enemy had surrounded his team and they were taking casualties or he was wounded. He
never
lost control when he executed a mission. He did what had to be done. Period. But facing the possibility of losing Em was more terrifying than being captured and tortured by the enemy. It tormented him that he was on the verge of the operation that would eliminate Tehrazzi, but it was too late for Emily and him.

He’d lost that precious window of time when they might have reconciled. Instead, he’d spent it hunting the enemy through the deserts of the Middle East. That’s the choice he’d made.

At that moment, he’d never regretted anything more.

The phone buzzed insistently against his hip for the second time, and after taking a forced, deep inhalation, he ripped it from its holder. Ah, Christ, he thought as he saw the digital display. Reality was calling.

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Luke blew out a breath and took the next exit, finding a quiet place to pull over before returning the call. His heart rate was still elevated and his breathing wasn’t quite steady, but this might be the call he’d been waiting for. Cutting the engine, he dialed.

After a short delay, Davis answered. “Hey my man, how’s it going?”

“It’s going,” Luke grunted. “You stateside?”

“No, Kabul. Langley’s given me this secure number for the time being.”

Not good. “We got a problem?”

“Your boy over here is getting help.”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his stomach clamped even tighter. “What kind of help?”

Another short pause came while the signal reached its destination. “Someone with connections, maybe overseas, I’m not sure yet. All the warlords that were friendly with us are increasingly tight-lipped about Tehrazzi. All of a sudden nobody’s seen him or has any idea where he is, and for damn sure nobody wants to help us find him.”

With the amount of cash and arms they were waving at the warlords, that said a lot. “Is it him?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think it’s
just
Tehrazzi.

I already talked to James about it before I called you, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. It’s like he’s getting help from someone either higher up the food chain, or from an inside source. Whatever’s going on, he’s managed to corrupt sources I’ve used reliably for over two years.”