Come Gentle the Dawn (16 page)

Brie groaned. “You’re such a pessimist! Thus far, I’m still alive and in one piece at age twenty-nine. Now, I call that surviving.”

His grin was wry. “I call that lucky.” And then he wondered how many men had taken advantage of Brie’s open, honest nature. Maybe she had learned to protect herself by remaining private. But beyond those walls of privacy, where he had already found himself, she was a sitting duck for an emotional bullet that could wound her gravely. At that moment, Linc didn’t like himself very much. Brie was open to him, not even realizing he held the bullet that could destroy the trust she shared with him. A bitter taste coated his mouth, and he looked away, unable to meet her warm, vulnerable eyes.

F
ive days of working together, Linc thought, as he gathered several manuals from the rear of the white van. Another day on the road inspecting chemical companies was at an end. Brie took Homely Homer into the house. It’s gone too fast, I want it to slow down. And then he laughed at himself. If he was honest with himself, he would admit how he liked living with Brie, even though they slept in different rooms.

His mind ranged over the clues he had picked up over the week. Brie had given him a more thorough list of companies who had threatened John or her in some vague way. Cramer was pulling the records on those companies to check the number of violations they had, if any. The company who had the most reason to kill would most likely be the one with the most fines. And Linc had continued to pry information from Brie, who
was totally unsuspecting of his motives. She was taking his probing curiosity in stride, thinking all his questions were normal for someone who was breaking into the job.

In a week, they had stopped at fifteen different businesses that used or manufactured some form of chemicals that, under improper conditions, could create a hazardous material situation. Linc found these inspections enormously interesting. He cataloged every company representative’s reactions to her request to go over files of transported chemicals to and from the business. And when he asked to accompany Brie to check where the contents were located she was delighted, having no idea that he was looking for totally different reasons. Brie had been pleased with his careful investigation of each of the businesses they dropped in on, commenting that he had the earmarks of a fanatic. He had only smiled and mentally logged in the nuances of each establishment. Every night, after Brie had gone to bed, he had taken out his notebook, written out thorough descriptions of the types of chemicals carried and the reactions of the reps. Cases were broken by dogged thoroughness, not luck, and Linc had the patience of Job when it came to collecting all the seeming loose ends to the puzzle. He was very good at putting evidence together after a certain number of leads had been investigated.

Linc followed Brie inside their home. He smiled at himself. He thought of her house as their home. Well? Wasn’t it? Two people in a house, both fairly content with one another’s presence, constituted a home. He scowled. How had Brie grown on him in five days’ time? Linc found himself loath to leave her home and
move into his new apartment. He would miss her bright morning humor, her coffee, her laughter, which was coming more and more easily each day they were together, her natural warmth and sensitivity, and yes, even Homely Homer. Linc grinned. Brie and that ugly duckling of a bird of hers. Even when he had been married to JoAnne, his home life was never as it had been in the past five days. The basic difference was that Brie actively sought a part in living life, and JoAnne had been content to let it pass by her. If Brie wasn’t out dutifully weeding her garden, she was mowing the lawn, sneaking enough time to bake a cake, read one of her silly romantic novels and staunchly defend their value to him, cut some of those bright tulips and sweet-smelling hyacinths and place them in a vase near the couch, or so many other little, important things. He would miss her. A lot.

“Just think,” Brie said, turning on the Tiffany lamp in the living room. “Your last night on that old, lumpy couch. I’ll bet you’re happy about that.”

“I was getting kind of used to it,” Linc protested, managing a smile. He sat down on the couch, unlacing his boots and taking them off. It was almost eleven, and he was tired. Brie looked fresh, despite the twelve hours they had put in that day. She took Homer’s cage and carried the bird to the sewing room.

In five days, they had fallen into a routine in the evenings. Brie would shower first, stick her head around the corner and tell him the bathroom was free, then disappear into her bedroom. Tonight, he didn’t want her to disappear so soon. He yearned to stretch their last hours together. Linc found himself hungry just to sit
near Brie and talk with her. Those times were so rare between phone calls, haz-mat incidents and her heavy lecture schedule. They would stagger in late, wash, then fall asleep.

Linc brightened. Since he had been at the house, Brie had had no recurrence of her nightmares. He had deliberately not talked to her about them, saving it for a time when they wouldn’t be pressured by external demands, when he could devote himself to helping her work through that trauma. He knew he could help Brie; it was simply a matter of patience and timing.

“I’m going to bed now, Linc. The bathroom’s all yours.”

Linc frowned and rose just as she disappeared. “Wait, Brie.”

Brie reappeared, dressed in the appealing apricot robe that brought out the color of her complexion. Her hair was mussed, and Linc had the urge to tame those strands into place. He saw her eyes widening as he walked over to her. Even in his stocking feet, he towered over her. What was she feeling? Longing? He took a deep breath, thankful that there was no longer the fear he had seen in her eyes when they had first met. No, during this week trust had jelled between them.

“Yes?” She stood uncertainly before him, hands clasped in front of her. Her mouth went dry as she saw the naked hunger in Linc’s cobalt eyes.

“What time are you waking up tomorrow?” He wanted to reach out and bury his fingers in her soft, velvet mane of hair.

“Six. Why? You don’t have to get up.” She smiled. “You get to sleep in as late as you want, for once.” That was the truth. Up at six, home around eleven
every night. And no time for themselves. It was wearing on him already. “Wake me, okay?”

“Well, why?”

He reached up, lightly brushing her flaming red cheek. “Because I enjoy having coffee with you in the morning. Is that reason enough?” he asked huskily.

Brie’s heart pounded in her breast, and she stepped away from Linc. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night.” She turned, walked down the darkened hallway and quietly shut her bedroom door.

Linc stared at the door for a long time. Give her time, he cautioned himself. Don’t push her. She wasn’t the type of woman who could be bulldozed into a—What? One-night stand? Linc even felt a twinge of guilt. Brie was worth more than that. How much more? Disgruntled, he picked up his pajama bottoms and headed for the bathroom, lost in his own thoughts. What did he want from Brie? She was supposed to be protected. He was a glorified guard dog.

*

Brie jerked up in bed, a scream ready to tear from her lips. Disoriented, she gasped for breath, trying to get control of the unleashed emotions threatening to overwhelm her. The room was dark, the light of the moon making her surroundings gray and forbidding. Shakily getting to her feet, she slipped the robe over her shoulders. Her mouth was dry and her throat constricted. She needed a drink of water. The clock on the bed stand read three o’clock. Deluged with harsh emotions over John’s death and questioning her own fear, Brie went to the kitchen.

A sliver of moonlight sliced through the curtains as she picked up the glass she always had sitting near the
sink. Her fingers trembled badly, and it slipped from her hand, shattering loudly in the porcelain basin. Brie stood frozen, hands over her pounding heart, staring at the jagged pieces of glass. That was how she felt—so many parts and pieces of herself torn and mangled beyond any hope of repair. A sob caught in her throat, and she took a step away from the sink.

“Brie?”

Linc’s sleep-thickened voice sent a quiver through her. Brie turned jerkily, her gaze moving across his dark-haired chest to the powerful width of his shoulders and up to his concerned features. His eyes were dark and alert with a trace of fear in them. She swallowed.

“I—” Her voice was barely a raw whisper.

Linc moved forward. “What’s wrong, Brie?” He saw her eyes turn luminous with tears. “Those dreams again?” he guessed.

Brie nodded, needing to be held badly. Twisting her head, she looked at the fragments in the sink. “I—I broke it,” she cried, burying her face in her hands.

“Come here,” he said roughly, his voice charged with emotion. He settled his hands on her shoulders. She was trembling badly, the gown damp beneath his fingers. A soft groan came from deep within him as he brought her into the safe harbor of his arms. Her hair was cool silk against his chest, her velvet cheek like a brand on his flesh over his pounding heart.

Brie tried to take a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly, burying herself deeply in Linc’s arms. “I—I’m so afraid…out of control…”

He winced as he heard the anguish in her voice. Gently, he framed her face between his fingers, lifted
her chin up so their eyes met. “Listen to me,” he said thickly. “You need to let it go, Brie. Let all of what you’re feeling go. Do you hear me?”

Brie’s lips parted as she felt the heat of his hands against her cold flesh. “B-but if I do…I’ll fly apart…I’ll—”

“No,” he whispered harshly, his fingers tightening. “Let those tears fall, kitten. Cry for what you’ve lost and for how much you hurt. Come on, I’ll be here for you. You aren’t going to lose control. Trust me, Brie. Trust me.”

The ragged thickness of his voice tore away the last of the fears that had held her tortured emotions at bay. Tears formed and slowly rolled from the corners of her eyes. Then came a low moan. Brie clutched at his hard, solid arms, clinging as if she were going to fall. She saw his face lose its hard lines and soften. The moment his thumbs brushed away the first of the tears, an explosion of pain and anger burst within her.

Linc braced himself. Brie’s lips, now wet with tears, formed in a helpless cry, and he crushed her to him, burying his head against her hair. The sobs racked her body, the sounds torn from deep within her, and he felt every one of them. She had tried so hard for so long to be brave and in control when any other human would have capitulated to the terror and trauma long ago. Linc felt her knees giving way as she surrendered to her pain. In one motion, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her through the dark house to the couch where his blanket and sheets lay in twisted disarray.

He sat down with Brie on his lap, her head buried beneath his jaw, her fists on his chest. He held her and rocked her. His voice was raw as he urged her to get it
all out. Her anguished cries slowly died down, and after a while she lay silent against him. An occasional spasm passed through her. She hiccuped, and Linc smiled. Brie was so soft and warm, her breasts were grazing his chest, her hip nestled against his. The sandalwood scent teased his nostrils, and he inhaled her feminine scent, which made him heady with desire for her.

His mouth rested on the damp strands of hair clinging to her wet cheek. Don’t kiss her! a voice screamed in his head. He was taking advantage of Brie’s lowered guard. Linc had urged her to trust him enough to allow him to help her and now…He groaned, feeling her fingers uncurl and flatten out over the mat of hair on his chest. His mouth moved down the curve of her cheek, and he tasted the salt of her tears. Linc pressed her urgently against him, savoring her velvet-smooth flesh beneath his questing mouth. His heart thundered heavily as he felt Brie move a mere fraction of an inch so that he could kiss her.

He didn’t know why her action caught him off guard. Brie was a woman so different from his experience that it had never entered his mind that she might also be drawn just as powerfully to him. And yet, as his mouth barely brushed her trembling, wet lips, an incredible surge of joy went through him, stunning him with its intensity.

Her mouth was like a lush flower opening to his tender advances, he thought as he traced the curve of her lips. Her breath was broken and ragged, and he was vaguely aware of her fingers curving around his neck, drawing him closer, melding to him. His breath caught as he gloried in her shy response to his mouth. She tasted sweet, so very sweet. Her lips were yielding
beneath his pressure, and achingly feminine. Sensations roared through Linc, and he fought for control. He wasn’t sure who needed to be kissed more. What he did know was that they had kissed for different reasons—Brie, because she needed human contact and care in the aftermath of grief; he, because…Linc opened his eyes and stared down at Brie’s pale features.

Gently, he caressed her lips one more time before pulling back. His heart was a drum beating heavily in his chest. Everywhere Brie touched him, he was on fire. His body was rigid, and he knew without a doubt that she had to be aware of his need of her. His fingers trembled as he stroked her hair. Words were useless as he sat with Brie in his arms in the quiet living room. Linc was aware of her breathing and her heartbeat slowing.

Brie closed her eyes, too devastated by the stormy release of her bottled-up emotions, needing, wanting Linc’s touch. Each time he caressed her hair, he took away a little more of her pain. His wiry hair beneath her cheek tickled her nose, but she paid it no heed. The thudding beat of his steady heart promised her that there was constancy in her shattered universe. Her world centered on Linc, his arms providing her protection against the emptiness she felt in the wake of her tears. Brie took an unsteady breath, a tremor passing through her as she vividly remembered Linc’s mouth moving searchingly across her lips. His tenderness opened the doors to her heart, flinging them open, and helpless, she drowned in his strength.

“Linc…” Her voice was wobbly.

His hand stilled on her hair. “Don’t try to talk yet, Brie,” he coaxed, pressing a kiss on her damp brow.
“Just lie there and rest. We have time, kitten.” Or did they? Guilt seared through him. He’d just committed a terrible error in judgment. His heart didn’t think so, but his head did. Linc was getting involved. What would Brie do when she found out he’d lied to her? Abused her trust in him? Suddenly, Linc panicked.

Obediently, Brie closed her eyes, sinking into the throbbing silence, Linc’s breath flowing across her brow and cheek. How long she lay there, Brie didn’t know. Had she fallen asleep with Linc’s chest as her pillow and his heart providing the balm she needed? The wonderful masculine scent of his body, the warmth of his flesh and the wiry mat of hair beneath her cheek and hand soothed her further. Was there anything more special than care and love shared between a man and a woman? Brie thought not, nuzzling her lips against his corded neck.