Broken Angels (23 page)

She was quiet for a long time. The waxing moon haloed her head and made her eyes sparkle like liquid gold.

“No,” she answered with more conviction than he’d expected. “It feels like family.”

Vulnerability sparkled in her eyes, more potent than her glistening skin, her clingy swimsuit, the small towel wrapped around her breasts and hips. Zach lost the battle and extended his hand to cup her face. Her skin was soft, an odd blend of velvet and satin. It tickled his palm as a strange current traveled up his arm and thrummed along his flesh.

He never should have allowed himself to touch her. Now the need to kiss her blinded him. It was a physical ache, sharp and insistent. She turned her cheek into his palm, moved closer…

“Becca—” Her name tore from his throat, both a desperate plea and a growl. In the same heartbeat, his mouth crushed hers. Fire shot through his veins, sent his resolve straight to hell. Need raged through him, and every minute he’d spent without her only seemed to stoke the blaze.

Her lips parted to receive him. He wasn’t sure whether the sound she made was a gasp or a sigh, and to be honest he didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to taste her. Her mouth was moist, inviting, as he slid his tongue in to mate with hers. She brought her palms to his abdomen, let them glide across his ribs and around his back, and he knew she wouldn’t put up a fight. A part of him was hoping she would because, right about now, he wasn’t exactly thinking with his head. Not the one on his shoulders, anyway.

She had no intention of making this easy for him—the way the movements of her lips matched his, the way she edged in closer and flattened her breasts against his chest.

She had no idea what she was doing to him. Or maybe she did. He couldn’t be sure. He tasted boldness on her tongue. Boldness and a trace of desperation.

All of a sudden he wanted more. He wanted to feel every inch of her, to recapture what he’d lost, to once again anchor himself to the one woman who could keep him rooted. She was his purpose. A man had to have purpose or he drifted, got swept away by the tide.

Decisively, he stood and pulled her to her feet so the length of her damp body pressed against his. He felt every hot curve, every sea-scented curl, the wild tempo of her heart as it galloped in perfect beat with his own.

There was no more room for doubt. With a groan, he clumsily pushed open the door, and they stumbled into the house. He tugged at the straps of her swimsuit, his mouth traveling down her neck and over her shoulder as the unrelenting agony in his groin sharpened. The towel slid to the ground. His hand found her breast, yanked it free. She moaned and dug her hips into his until he thought he’d explode. He wanted to tell her to take it easy, but he couldn’t find his voice. All he managed was a grunt.

Then he was lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the bedroom, with nothing but the moon and stars to light his path.

Chapter Twenty

Rebecca’s senses swam, as if she suffered from heat stroke, only the heat wasn’t coming from the sun but Zach. It poured over her in waves, singeing her from the inside out, as his mouth drank from hers and his hand closed over her breast. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved by Zach. It was like being swallowed by a firestorm—wild and hungry and all-consuming. His kisses chased every thought from her head.

His mouth never left hers as he carried her to the bedroom. Once there, he spread her out on the bed, his face awash in eagerness and something else—amazement. She didn’t understand it. He was far more magnificent than she was. His skin was smooth, like polished gold, his arms strong and muscular. She tugged the shirt from his body, marveling at the splendid perfection of him. Whorls of dark hair covered his chest and slowly tapered down to his abdomen, where thick muscles bunched. She couldn’t help but explore those muscles, loving the way they strained and rippled beneath her fingertips.

He was incredible, and he was hers. After all these years, he was still hers.

Her hand ventured lower. She unbuttoned his jeans, deliberately ran her thumbnail over his zipper. Muttering an oath, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. His mouth slid down her throat—hot, demanding. The silky feel of it flushed her system, made her skin purr and her body throb.

He carved a burning trail toward her breast, and she trembled in his arms. It had been so long since he’d loved her this way. So long since she’d allowed herself to dissolve in his arms and let the current carry her.

His lips slid down toward her navel, and he had no choice but to release her arms. As soon as he did, she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

He peeled the swimsuit from her body, exposed her to his heated gaze. “You taste like the sea,” he muttered as he flicked his tongue over her belly.

Pleasure whipped through her. “You don’t like the sea.”

“I like it just fine on you.” He glided up toward her breast again.

“Maybe you should join me for a midnight swim sometime.”

Shadows played across his back, outlining the thick tendons that stretched over his shoulder blades. “I’m sure you could persuade me if you set your mind to it.”

Her fingers traced the length of his spine. “I’m always up for a good challenge.” She loved the strength, the sharp leanness of him. Loved how delicate she felt when she was pressed against him.

Then his mouth closed over her nipple. Her mind went blank. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe. She just wanted to feel, to lose herself to passion, to drown in this one moment and forget the past, for once stop questioning the future.

His need bulged against her inner thigh, branded her with its heat. She arched into him as a short burst of air escaped her lips. Desire hollowed out a place in her heart only he could fill, a gaping crevice that begged for completion.

He was holding back; she could tell. It was evident how badly he needed this, but he was taking his time, desperately clutching the tenuous string of self-control, trying to savor even as everything inside him screamed to devour.

She didn’t want to be savored. She wanted to be consumed. Clasping a handful of his hair, she pulled him up, brought his lips to hers. With eager fingers, she pushed down his jeans and wrapped her legs around him, surrounding him with her heat. He groaned as a shiver quaked through him. Instinctively, his hips dug into hers. She welcomed him, urged him without words to enter her, but he pulled back.

A whimper of disappointment rose to lodge itself in her throat. Laughter rumbled next to her ear.

“You never were very good at being patient.”

Frustration slow-danced with need, made her blood simmer. “And you were always too damn good at it.”

He chuckled and drew her earlobe into his mouth. Frissons of pleasure poured through her. His hand ventured down her body, stroking the curve of her backside, the length of her leg. His fingers felt like coarse silk, rough and soft at the same time. He was driving her insane.

Hoping to get even, she rubbed against him until he grunted and shuddered. Need hardened every fabulous inch of him. Victory coursed through her. Any minute now he would cave to the persistent ache begging to be appeased and claim her the way only a man can claim a woman.

“I was right. You really are a siren.”

“And you think way too much.”

She covered his mouth with hers, cutting off his next breath. She knew the precise second his control snapped. A pained growl shook his chest and he wedged himself more firmly between her legs. Then he was inside her, possessing her. Her world spun and crashed. Each thrust was like the aftershock of an earthquake, fierce and mind-shattering.

Her body surged and bucked, rapture submerging her in blinding sheets. He cried out her name, convulsed against her, sending warm tremors skittering along her flesh. His pulsing heat inside her made her own body violently contract around him, then go limp and boneless.

Afterward, she lay spent in his arms, trying to remember how to breathe. Sex had always been intense between Zach and her—explosive, totally mind-blowing. If only they were as good together in other areas besides the physical, their marriage might have fared better. Would things go smoother the second time around or were they heading down the same dead-end street again?

“What now?” She didn’t want to shatter the mood so soon, but the question slipped out before she could stop it.

A beat of silence followed. “I haven’t got a clue.” His gaze was riveted on the ceiling, his expression unreadable. “Why don’t we just take it one day at a time?”

She could live with that. Life was easier to deal with in small chunks. She closed her eyes, snuggled closer. Peace was a funny thing. It crept upon you when you least expected it, spread its golden branches inside you. Before you knew it, hope took root in your heart. She prayed this time she could contain it, that it wouldn’t grow to smother her.

Slowly, sleep rolled over her—a numbing mist that closed around her mind and sent her floating toward the realm of dreams, where the only sensation was a tender echo of contentment.

Dawn swept in, a diamond-flecked haze that flooded the room with light. For once, Zach awoke without any help from Will—his own personal alarm clock. Becca slept soundly in his arms, all delicate curves and fragrant heat. She fit beside him perfectly, completed him like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. The part of him that had died along with their marriage had spun back to life last night, and he found himself smiling up at the ceiling like an idiot.

Damned if he wanted to get up. He wanted to lie here all day, with nothing to do but run his hands over Becca’s sexy-as-sin body. He wanted to remember what it had felt like to be young and totally infatuated, before life had interfered.

Carefully, he brushed the hair from her face. He’d always loved to watch her sleep. Loved how soft and wild she looked. He would have given anything to see her dreams, to be able to make them all come true.

But he couldn’t, and that pissed the hell out him and made him feel like the worst kind of loser. A man wasn’t a man if he couldn’t give his wife what she needed. Now, lying here in this bed with nothing but his conscience to listen to, he asked himself if that was the real reason he’d walked out on her. Every time he’d looked in her eyes, he’d seen everything he’d failed to give her, and that truth had burned like a knife-wound.

Maybe Becca had a point. Maybe he really did want to
fix
everything. That was what he’d always been—a fixer, the one everyone called in a crisis, the one with all the answers. He didn’t know how to function otherwise, didn’t know how to handle a problem he couldn’t set right.

So he’d run. Like a goddamn coward.

She stirred beside him, moaned as her eyelids eased apart. “Why did morning have to come so soon?”

“We don’t have to get out of bed just yet. The kids are still asleep.”

A smile stretched across her lush mouth. “Good, ’cause I don’t think I could move right now.”

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled her ear, let his lips trail over her cheek. “I’m pretty sure I could convince you.”

“You always were overconfident.”

“With good reason.” His mouth closed over hers, and her next argument was forgotten. She went liquid in his arms, warm and boneless. Desire spiked in his veins—as biting as it was seductive. They’d made love a second time in the middle of the night, and still he ached for her.

Her arms formed a loop around his neck. She deepened the kiss, and flames ignited in his blood. He wanted her to touch him, to close her fingers around him, to ride him till the sun set for the last time. As if reading his thoughts, her fingers lazed downward. They tightened around him, started stroking him, and every thought blasted from his head. Her caress was the sweetest agony.

With a regretful groan, he pried himself loose from her grip and immobilized her on the bed beneath him. “I’d forgotten how much trouble you are,” he muttered between kisses.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” was her husky reply. “I must say I’m impressed with your stamina.” She arched into him, kissed the side of his neck.

“It’s been a while.” He ran his tongue over her ear. “Two years to be exact.”

The hand she was sliding down his back froze midway. He sensed the tremor of shock that coursed through her. “You didn’t— There was no one else?”

He lifted himself high enough to gaze down at her startled face. “Why do you look so surprised?” Didn’t she know what she’d done to him, the fundamental way she’d changed him? From the first time he’d touched her, every other woman had paled in his eyes. “How could I possibly want anyone else after having you?”

Moisture pooled on her lashes. “I always thought I was the only one who felt that way.” The awe resonating in her voice both touched and unhinged him. She pulled his head down, fused her lips with his as her body combusted beneath him.

Then Will’s banshee cry shattered the blessed silence.

Becca stiffened in his arms, then sighed in defeat. “I told you,” she moaned. “Morning came too soon.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The sun gradually climbed high in the sky, and the day grew increasingly hot. No breeze stirred today. The harbor was calm and motionless, the trees hardly swaying. An occasional cloud floated lazily overhead, as if it had no particular place to go and was in no rush to get there. The sand sizzled beneath their feet, making sandals a necessity.

They spent the day on the beach again, with Tess and Patrick fused to their side. Rebecca sensed a certain awkwardness hovering between her and Pat after his outburst the previous day, but overall, he hid it well.

Still, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is everything all right? You looked really worked up yesterday.”

Pat shifted uncomfortably in the sand, leaning back on his bent arms. “Yeah. Sorry again about that. That was Dan on the phone, the DA.”

“Can’t he just leave you alone?” Tess’s voice held just enough bite to let them know this was a sore spot with her. “You’re on vacation for God’s sake.”

“He’s got his sights on the mayor’s office,” Pat explained. “Been thinking of running for quite some time, but he needs an edge. This case he’s been hounding me about stretches far and wide. Could be just the boost he needs to shoot straight to the top. Problem is, he expects me to do all the legwork.”