At Risk (21 page)
Authors: Rebecca York
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Urban Fantasy, #Suspense
“Rafe. You didn’t mention him before. How is he mixed up in this?”
“He works for the detective agency I hired to find out who was responsible for the muggings.”
Her mother snorted. “Like he could do anything besides fix broken toilets.”
Eugenia worked to contain her rage. “He got a video of Bennett trying to burn down my restaurant a few nights ago.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.”
Before she could say more, Mom was speaking again. “He’s probably lying to you.”
“No he’s not.
He caught Bennett pouring charcoal lighter fluid into my trash cans.”
“Or the Gascon boy did it himself.”
Eugenia’s voice turned hard as she stared at her mother. “What are you saying—that you think he hauled Bennett to the alley in back of my restaurant?”
Her mother didn’t answer.
“We’ve gotten sidetracked. I came here to talk about when Rafe joined the army. We promised to write to each other, but you took his letters out of the mailbox and hid them, didn’t you?”
Her mother had turned pale, but she wasn’t about to confess the way Bennett had. “That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. And you didn’t mail the ones I wrote him, either.”
Her mother swallowed hard.
“You’re just guessing.”
“No. It’s true.”
“How do you know?”
“Voodoo.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You may think Calista caused trouble for me, but Martin Villars’ death wasn’t her fault.”
Her mother made a sniffing sound.
“The good news is that she was willing to use her powers for me.
She gave me a charm that showed me what you’d done. That’s how I know about it.”
“Oh come on.
Voodoo is a bunch of hooey.”
“No it’s not.
It showed me how far you’d go to ruin my life.”
“I was doing you a favor.
You were making a big mistake getting tangled up with that Gascon boy.”
“So you admit it?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done.”
“You had no idea of how much you were hurting us.
You had no idea how he would turn out. He’s a hardworking detective—and very good at his job. In fact, he saved my life.” Before her mother could say anything else, she turned and left the room.
Her heart lurched when she saw the look on Rafe’s face, but she kept walking until they were both out the front door, which she closed behind her.
Once outside, she ran down the steps and climbed into his car, then turned to him with tears in her eyes.
“She did that to us. I suspected it could be true. But now I can hardly wrap my head around it.”
She gave him a pleading look. “Oh Rafe. I’m so sorry.”
“She did it—not you.”
“But we wasted all this time.”
“We don’t have to waste anymore.” He reached for her and hauled her against himself.
“Rafe, as soon as you walked into the restaurant, I knew my feelings for you had never changed. But . . .”
“I wouldn’t let you talk about . . . us.”
“Why?”
He dragged in a breath and let it out. “I was trying to keep from getting hurt again.”
She lifted her face, finding his lips with hers, wordlessly telling him how she felt. It was a kiss of passion, of understanding, and of apology for all the hurt they’d given each other.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Rafe whispered when they finally broke apart.
“She made sure you did. But never again.”
oOo
He took in her words, took in the reality of her in his arms—in his life. And there was more.
“I love you,” she murmured.
He kept his gaze on her. “You don’t know how I longed to hear that. After I came back, I kept myself from even admitting that I loved you. But I knew it before you went off to Holly’s, and I wanted to tell you. Only there were too many people around.”
“Oh Rafe.”
“I loved you when we were together eight years ago. And now I know I never stopped, even when I couldn’t admit it to myself.”
“I loved you, too.
And I was so sad when you left—when I thought you’d turned away from me.” She gulped. “I even got married. That was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“I know about that.”
“How?”
“Well, I dropped you at your divorce lawyer’s.”
“Right. I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
“It was in your file that Frank Decorah gave me.”
“Are you angry?”
“How can I be angry.
You were trying to live your life.”
“But Richard was absolutely wrong for me.
I knew it pretty soon after we married.”
“And I’m selfishly glad you figured it out.”
She pressed her mouth to his and spoke against his lips. “He could never compare to you. Not as a man and not as a lover. You were so much better at it—even with what we were doing.”
“I always wanted you to enjoy what we were doing as much as I did.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Am I going to be the one who asks where this is leading now?”
He swallowed hard, still half afraid that the dream would slip away.
“To marriage, I hope.”
“Oh yes.”
She kissed him again, cutting off the conversation.
“How are we going to work it out?”
“I’m sure I can transfer to our New Orleans office.” He laughed. “Maybe that’s what Frank Decorah had planned. He’s a devious old matchmaker, although he wouldn’t admit it, if you asked him.” He looked around realizing they were still in front of her mother’s house. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Yes.”
As he drove away, she leaned back, her hand on his arm, her eyes closed, and a smile on her face. When the car came to a stop, she looked around.
“Where are we?”
“My bed and breakfast. Neutral territory.”
“Why?”
“Because I know that if we go back to the restaurant, you’re going to want to stop in the kitchen and then check the dining room. And I want your full attention.”
She nodded.
“I guess you know me pretty well.”
He parked in the lot out back, then led her inside to his first-floor room with its classic English furnishings and a view of a pretty interior garden.
“What a great room,” she murmured.
“I thought you’d like it.
I kept dreaming of bringing you back here.”
He crossed to the window and closed the drapes, then drew her into his arms.
Her head dropped to his shoulder, and for long moments he absorbed the reality of holding her close, now that he knew everything was all right between them.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, stroked across his broad back, drifted to curve around his ass.
Loving the possessive way she touched him, he bent to stroke his cheek against hers, then covered her mouth with his.
As his lips moved over hers, he was caught by a flood of emotions, all the hunger he’d tried to contain finally given free rein.
She raised her face and found his lips.
“Oh Rafe.
It’s really true. I have you back again. I can hardly believe it.”
“It’s true.
Finally.” He ended the words with a kiss that was full of passion and promise. She tasted wonderful, felt wonderful in his arms, and he gathered her close.
He wanted to say so much to her, but he was too overwhelmed to speak.
Instead he led her to the bed, where they began to slowly, teasingly undress each other. Her blouse and skirt. His jeans and polo shirt. Her bra and panties. His shorts.
And when they were both naked, they swayed in each other’s arms, touching and kissing and letting themselves enjoy the moment.
When he knew he could no longer stand, he pulled back the brocade spread and took her down to the surface of the bed, gathering her to him, rocking with her as they continued to give and take pleasure in each other, wrapping themselves in incredible sensual pleasure.
He cupped her breasts, loving their warmth and fullness. Easing away, he took one hardened nipple in his mouth, sucking on her as he teased its mate with his thumb and finger. The attentions wrung a glad cry from her.
Making love with her had been a dream fulfilled. Commitment made it even better.
His free hand traveled downward to dip into her hidden folds, where he found her hot and slick and ready for him.
“Rafe, please,” she moaned, “Please, I want you inside me. I need you inside me—now.”
As she spoke, her hand closed around the hard, distended shaft of his cock, sending a jolt of pure, animal sensation surging through him.
He rolled to his back, lifting her up, setting her over him. Her gaze never left his as she plunged down, bringing him inside her.
He took in her beautiful body as she began to move above him, knowing that she had never been this open, this free with him before.
She went still, smiling down at him.
“Finally, finally, after all this long time, you belong to me,” she whispered.
“And you to me.”
“Oh Rafe,” she breathed, as she began to move again. He matched her rhythm, wanting to draw out the incredible pleasure but knowing he was too far gone to last for long. He felt her inner muscles contract, heard her call out his name once more.
And then he was shaking with the force of his own release, incredible pleasure washing over him.
Afterwards she came down beside him, and he held her in his arms, enjoying the satisfied expression on her face.
“Something I want to say.”
He tensed.
“Yes?”
“Before you joined the army, I was going to tell you I’d sleep with you, if you stayed.”
He was stunned. “But you didn’t.”
“I decided that wasn’t fair to you.
You’d made a decision about your life, and I couldn’t hold you here with sex.”
He laughed.
“Maybe you could have. But this is better. We both grew up. And I’ve got a profession. I’m not the lowlife kid with nothing to offer you.”
“I never thought of you as a lowlife kid.”
“But it wouldn’t have worked. Not then.”
“Maybe not,” she said as she snuggled against him, then lifted her hips so he could free the covers and pull them up.
As he clasped her to him, he was happier than he had ever been in his life, yet he knew it was only the beginning of what the two of them would mean to each other.
THE END
Thank you for purchasing
AT RISK, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.
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If you enjoyed
AT RISK, you may also enjoy other books in the
To purchase
On Edge
(a novella and Decorah prequel) simply click
here
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To purchase
Ambushed
(a short story) simply click
here
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To purchase
Chained
(a novella) simply click
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To purchase
Dark Moon
( a novel) simply click
here
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To purchase
Hot and Dangerous
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short story) simply click
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To purchase
Dark Powers
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To purchase
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ous, Chained, and Dark Powers) simply click
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Rebecca York delivers page-turning suspense.
—Nora Roberts
Rebecca York never fails to deliver. Her strong characterizations, imaginative plots and sensuous love scenes have made fans of thousands of romance, romantic suspense and thriller readers.
—Chassie West
Rebecca York will thrill you with romance, kill you with danger and chill you with the supernatural.
—Patricia Rosemoor
(Rebecca York) is a real luminary of contemporary series romance
—Michael Dirda, The Washington Post Book World
Rebecca York’s writing is fast-paced, suspenseful, and loaded with tension.
—Jayne Ann Krentz
