Black Heart (24 page)

hall, pausing only long enough to send a rather odd glare at something in the empty living

room. Okay, that was a little weird, she thought as she reluctantly followed after him.

"Do you mind telling me what you need to talk to me about so that I can get on with the

rest of my night and maybe get something to eat?" she asked as she followed him into the

obscenely large kitchen. It really was too big for a bachelor.

"We can eat while we talk," he said, opening the freezer door and pulling out a white

container overflowing with ice cubes. He placed the container on the counter, uncaring that

ice went flying as he grabbed a kitchen towel and began filling it with ice.

"It's been a long day, Tristan. Any chance that we can just get to the point?" she asked

with a tired sigh as she walked over to the counter and took over the chore of filling the

cloth with ice.

"You don't want to eat first?" Tristan asked, sounding a bit nervous.

What exactly did he have to be nervous about, she wondered as he gave her what

appeared to be a hopeful smile. Whatever it was, Tristan clearly wanted to put it off for a

while. Who would have ever thought the day would come when Tristan Black was nervous

about anything? She certainly hadn't. He wanted to put off whatever it was that he wanted

to talk about so of course she decided that she was rather anxious to hear it now.

"No, I think we should talk about it now," she said, biting back another smile as he

opened his mouth only to shut it abruptly.

"Well?" she asked, cocking an expectant brow.

He cleared his throat, obviously trying to stall for time as he focused all of his attention

on unbuttoning his shirt. "I could fire up the grill," he offered, trying to use her love for

barbecue against her.

"No, that's fine. I'd rather hear what you have to say," she said with a little sigh as she

gently pushed his hand away and finished unbuttoning his shirt for him. Once she was

done, she pulled the shirt out of his pants and moved to push the shirt off when she spotted

an angry bruise poking out from beneath the edge of his shirt.

"Oh my god, Tristan" she said, while quickly, yet carefully, removing his shirt so that she

could see the extent of the damage.

A large bruise that looked fresh started just above the left side of his chest and went all

the way up to his shoulder. She wasn't a medical professional or anything, but it looked

painful and definitely like something that should be looked at by a doctor. He winced as she

helped him remove his shirt off his left arm, but other than that he didn't complain, not that

she actually expected him to. This was Tristan Black after all.

"You need to go to the hospital," she said, moving behind him to see the extent of the

damage. She was glad that he was looking the other way so that he didn't see her cringe.

Both sides were pretty bruised, but the top of his shoulder and back clearly got the worst of

it.

"Not necessary," he said, grabbing the ice pack and placing it against his chest.

"It's very necessary, Tristan. You really hurt yourself," she said as she considered calling

his father and brother so they could take a look at it and if needed, drag him off to the

hospital.

"It's fine, Marty," he said, walking over to the refrigerator. He placed his homemade ice

pack on top of the fridge and opened the door. "You want a beer or a Coke?"

"Nothing," she told him. "I want you to go the hospital and get that thing checked out."

What if he’d really damaged his arm? He could have torn something or aggravated his

still healing wound. Ignoring it wasn't an option, but apparently that's exactly what Tristan

planned on doing.

"Coke it is," he said, grabbing two Cokes with his right hand and placing them on the

counter. He managed to open his Coke with his right hand before he grabbed the ice pack

and placed it back against his chest. Then as if to prove that he really wasn't hurt, he picked

up his soda with his left hand and proceeded to drink it while she glared at him.

"Get your butt back in the car, Tristan. We're going to the hospital," she said, deciding

that she'd see if she could manage to get him there by herself before she called in the big

guns.

"No," he simply said as he walked past her. He placed his soda on the table and pulled

out a chair, trying to hide his grimace as he sat down.

"I'm not kidding, Tristan. Get your butt in that car, now," she said firmly, hoping that

would be enough to get him to move his ass. Apparently it wasn't, because he only chuckled

as he leaned back in his chair, careful of his shoulder.

"Or what?" he asked with a slow sexy smile that made her mouth go dry and made it

difficult to think, never mind do what needed to be done.

"If you don't want barbeque, then we could always order in," Tristan suggested, giving

her the distraction that she needed.

"We're not ordering in, Tristan," she said with a sigh as she unzipped her purse and

grabbed her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling your father and brother, because clearly I'm in over my head here and you're an

idiot. I'm going to call them and let them drag you to the hosp—
hey
!" she gasped as he

plucked the phone out of her hands and placed it in his pocket.

"Give that back," she said, holding her hand out expectantly.

"Sorry. Can't do that, Marty," he said, leaning back against the counter with his arms

crossed over his impressive chest.

"You're going to the hospital," she informed him as she considered the odds of being able

to steal the phone away from him.

"No, I'm not so let it go," he warned with a hard glint in his eyes. It was the same look

he’d used to get when he was a child and someone mentioned a hospital to him.

"Please tell me that you're not still afraid of hospitals," she said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not afraid of anything," he said evenly. "I'm just not going to waste my time going

for something that a little ice and a few aspirins can handle."

"Okay, sure whatever," she said, having had more than enough for one day. If he was

going to be stubborn then that was fine with her. She had better things to do with her time

than to waste it by arguing. "I'm going home. See you in the morning," she said, moving to

walk out of the kitchen when he stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

"We need to talk, Marty," he said, once again looking nervous.

She shook her head as she moved to step around him. "Whatever it is will have to wait

until tomorrow."

"It can't," he said, moving to block her, again.

"It can," she said, managing to step past him and once she did she kept going.

"Marty, wait!" he said, following after her. "We really need to talk."

"No, we don't. What we need to do is stop playing these games. You don't want to work

with me and that's fine, because we won't be working together for much longer anyway,"

she said, reaching for the door, but once again Tristan managed to cut her off.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded as he maneuvered her away from

the door.

"As soon as I get my degree, I'm going to be looking for a job far away from here. So as

you can see there's no need to give me a pointless lecture or try to drive me off. Consider

the message well received, Tristan. I'll be out of your hair in a matter of months," she said,

forcing herself to sound firm when grief slammed into her at the thought of never seeing

him again.

"You're leaving?" he asked in a hollow voice.

"Yes," she snapped as she moved past him and once again reached for the door, more

than ready to end this conversation and go home and enjoy a hot bubble bath with a pint of

Ben and Jerry's ice cream while she did her best to forget that this day ever happened.

"Marty, you can't leave."

She snorted at that. "Watch me."

He placed his hand on the door just as she managed to open it and slammed it shut. "We

really have to talk."

"No, we don't," she said, trying to open the door, but he was clearly a heck of a lot

stronger than her. "Let me go, Tristan."

"Never."

"Why the hell not?" she snapped, whirling around to face him. She was sick of his

games, sick of the way he made her feel and most of all she was sick of being in love with

him. She wished she had never-

"Because I'm in love with you." The words rushed out of his mouth, clearly taking them

both by surprise.

He looked stunned by the admission, which probably matched her own expression, but

she was also pissed. Something snapped, something she'd held back all these years and once

she opened her mouth she couldn't hold it back any longer.

"You love me?" she demanded, moving closer to him.

"Yes?" he said, making it sound like a question and further pissing her off.

"Did you love me all those years ago when you shoved me aside and pretended that I

didn't exist?" she demanded, getting in his face.

"Yes," he said, swallowing nervously as he shot an anxious look around the large foyer as

if someone or something would come and save him from this conversation.

"So all these years while you treated me like I was nothing and no one, it was just an

act?" she asked, her voice getting louder with each word.

"Yes," he said, looking back down at her for a brief second before he started looking

around again and taking her irritation to a whole new level.

"Silly me, because when you acted like I didn't exist and then started to treat me like crap

when we were forced to work together, I just assumed that you hated me. But of course I

should have known that all the crap you put me through was just your way of declaring

your undying love for me," she snapped, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Tristan winced as he admitted, "Something like that."

"Something like that?" she repeated with disgust. He really had to be kidding her. She

narrowed her eyes on him as she glared up at him. "I'm through with these games, Tristan,

and I'm through with-"

You
, she thought as Tristan took her mouth in a kiss that robbed her of the ability to

speak until all she was left with was the overwhelming need to hold onto him and never let

him go.

Chapter
19

He hadn’t meant to kiss her. They needed to talk about so many things, but the moment

she’d started her rant, he knew that she would never listen to anything he had to say.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. He took her mouth possessively, showing her that she belonged

to
him
. She was his. Always had been and always would be. To his utter delight she met

him stroke for stroke. She kissed him like a woman starved. Her hands fisted in his hair,

holding him prisoner in their embrace.

Marty gasped into his mouth when she felt his hands cup her bottom, lifting her off her

feet. Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist. He used his hold on her bottom to grind

her against the painful erection that was trying to break through his pants to get to her. They

moaned as she tightened her hold around his waist.

Without breaking their kiss, he moved towards the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs

when he broke away from her mouth to press kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She

dropped her head back, giving him more access as her eyes closed in ecstasy.

She hadn’t realized they’d moved until she was gently laid down onto a soft bed. Tristan

continued to kiss his way down her body as his hands pushed her jacket off. He only

stopped kissing her long enough to pull her shirt and bra off and then he was back on her

within seconds.

They shouldn’t be doing this. There were so many problems between them. They needed

to talk them over and see if there was any way to work things out between them, but she

couldn’t force herself to stop. Nothing had ever felt as good as Tristan Black’s mouth on

her. She wanted more. She needed more. She’d never felt so desperate to have a man

before. When his mouth closed over her nipple, that need exploded.

While Tristan suckled her breast, his hand squeezed and played with the other one. She

began running her fingers through his hair, urging him on. It didn’t take much for him to

get the hint. He devoured her breast, licking and suckling it as she moaned and panted.

Tristan moved away from her nipple and began to hungrily lick the rest of the breast. He

moved to the next breast and practically devoured it, making the ache between her legs

throb.

A soft curse grabbed her attention just as her mind registered the loss of Tristan’s mouth.

She looked up to find Tristan absently rubbing a hand over his injured shoulder as he