Dark Taste of Rapture (19 page)

Right?

D
AMN IT,” HECTOR CURSED
when he spied Noelle. He should have left the wedding and stayed gone.

He’d left the wedding all right, but he hadn’t made it more than a mile from the chapel. Dallas’s
I’m going for it
had continued to ring inside his head, taunting him, infuriating him. Then he’d thought about Noelle’s red dress on his friend’s bedroom floor, resting beside a suit other than his. He’d pictured two naked bodies straining together on a mattress, had heard pleasure-filled moans.

He’d nearly destroyed the interior of his Jag as he reprogrammed the chapel’s address.

Once there, he hadn’t gotten out, hadn’t gone inside. He’d remained in the car, in the parking lot, the tint on his windows darkened to the highest setting so that no one could see inside. He’d glared at the building, and yes, he’d taken care of himself while imagining Noelle. With
him
.

Finally he had calmed down, the burning in his arms subsiding, the glow completely diminished.

The only thing that burned him now was humiliation and shame. That he’d done such a thing in a public place … his stomach rolled. At least he was out of the danger zone. Small comfort, considering he wasn’t sure he’d stay out.

One of the agents inside the building was emailing pictures of the wedding reception to everyone in her address book, and not two minutes ago Hector had opened one of Dallas on the dance floor, his strong arms wrapped around Noelle. Noelle had been grinning up at him.

Only reason Hector hadn’t stormed inside to rip them apart was that Noelle had still radiated so much sadness. Seeing her, his chest had ached unbearably.

He’d told himself to go home, that Dallas would work his magic and Noelle would fall under his spell. That the two of them would drive to the nearest hotel—they wouldn’t be able to wait until they reached Dallas’s apartment, because God knows, if the situation had been reversed, Hector wouldn’t have been able to wait—and sleep together.

And once Noelle had slept with his friend, Hector would stop thinking about her. Stop dreaming of her. Stop craving her. Surely. He
needed
to stop. She was a thorn in his side, a torment to his soul, a sickness in need of a cure.

He could never be what she needed, never touch her the way she’d want. More than that, he wasn’t good enough for her. Another man would make her happier. Far, far happier.

Yet he opened his car door, got out, and walked toward her anyway.

Noelle heard the footsteps and opened her eyes, prepared to paste on a smile and wave whoever had intruded on her personal space inside. Then she spotted Hector, and straightened. A frown pulled at the corners of her lips. His presence was a surprise.

His big body was gorgeous, as always, but humming with tension.

His night-wild scent reached her before he did, waking every cell she possessed. Next she felt the heat of his body, electrifying her. And then he was there, just a few feet away. Within touching distance, the width of his shoulders practically engulfing her.

Bad Noelle. No touching
. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not yet daring to met his gaze. She was too afraid of what she’d see. Irritation, maybe. Or maybe even nothing at all, as if she were meaningless.

“I’m cleaning my gun. What does it look like I’m doing?”

O-kay. The snotty attitude
wasn’t
a surprise. “It looks like you’re annoying me.”

Still he didn’t attempt an explanation. He just shrugged and said, “Well,
you
look beautiful.” Grudgingly offered, as if the compliment had been yanked from his throat.

And yet that was the first time he’d ever said anything nice to her and she became wet. Just like that.

“Thanks,” she muttered, fighting the arousal.

“Welcome.”

Finally, she looked up.

Instantly her body reacted as if she’d just run a ten-mile marathon uphill. Her breath shallowed so much she was panting, her lungs refusing to fill. Her temperature went from melting to one hundred percent liquefied, her knees weakening, trembling.

Intense golden eyes narrowed down at her, long lashes nearly fused. Hard lips stretched tight over those perfect, bite-so-good teeth, the scowl most likely meant to intimidate her into silence. His chin angled stubbornly, and there was no sign of his dimple.

His tie was gone, his suit wrinkled and disheveled. His gloves, missing.

God, she’d never seen a more beautiful sight. And with those few inches of hair … wow. Beautiful wasn’t a good enough description.

“You were sad a minute ago. And earlier.” His head tilted to the side. “Why?”

A cold shower went through her veins. He didn’t know. He couldn’t.
At least he hasn’t noticed your reaction to him
. Her beading nipples, her quivering belly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re clearly upset about something.”

He did. He knew. Butb
how
did he know? “I’m not upset.”

“Bullshit.”

How dare he call her on her lie! “This is my best friend’s most special day and I have never, ever been happier—”

“—more miserable.”

“—than I am right now.”

“I can’t believe you ever fooled me,” he said, all
kinds of self-disgust in his tone. “You’re a terrible liar.”

How. Did. He. Know? Dallas hadn’t. Ava had suspected, but even she hadn’t realized the depths of Noelle’s misery. Noelle was a master at hiding her emotions. She had to be. Otherwise her mother and brothers would have realized how they chipped at her self-esteem and launched a full-scale attack.

“What … what makes you think I’m lying to you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I’m really going to blurt out your tell.”

She gaped up at him. “I don’t have a tell.”

“Whatever you need to believe to comfort yourself, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. He’d just called her sweetheart. He didn’t mean it, though. Didn’t see her that way, the way other guys saw her. But the funny thing? She liked that he’d said it. She’d known him a year, and he’d never once called anyone else by a nickname or endearment, even sarcastically. Still. Letting him get away with his attitude so wasn’t happening. “You don’t know me,” she gritted.

“No,” he said softly, suddenly more serious than she’d ever seen him. “I don’t, do I?”

To Hector’s astonishment, he was as desperate to learn about Noelle’s life and her emotions as he was to have her underneath him. The latter was too dangerous, so he’d just have to settle for the first. “Do you feel like you’re losing Ava or something? Is that why you’re sad?”

A punch below the belt, maybe, but that was just his style. No mercy, and no prisoners. A motto he lived by. A motto life on the streets had drilled into his head.

Noelle crossed her arms over her chest, the fabric of her gown going taut, the pressure shoving her breasts together and creating the most delectable cleavage, but also hiding those beaded nipples he longed to tongue.

She snapped, “I’ve told you time and time again that I’m fine.”

“Actually, you’ve told me twice. You’re not fine, and sad girls aren’t as much fun to play with, so start talking.”

A lick of fire in her eyes, pursed lips. “Is that what you’re doing? Playing with me? But Hector, darling, aren’t sad girls what you’re used to?”

Ouch. She hit below the belt, too, but then, he’d jumped right into that one, hadn’t he.

He never should have told her about the hookers. None of his friends knew the truth. Not even Dallas. Hell, all of AIR probably thought he was gay. But he’d told Noelle in an effort to elicit her disgust.
And lookie. You got it. Shocker
.

“You better answer this, genius, or I’ll kick your ass!” he heard Ava say before he could think up a reply. He frowned, panned the area. Ava was nowhere to be seen. “You better answer this, genius, or I’ll kick your ass!”

With her left hand, Noelle held up her index finger in a bid for a second of privacy. With her right, she pulled a very slim cell from between her breasts.

Damn, that was sexy.

“I only have the ringer on for one person,” she said
at the same time Ava threw out another, “You better answer this, genius, or I’ll kick your ass!” Noelle added, “Ava stole my phone and programmed this as her personal ring tone. I liked it so much, I decided to use it for every call.”

He snorted, though he was strangely charmed by her admission. She truly adored her friend. Every aspect of her friend, at that, even the bizarrely cruel streak both women seemed to possess. He was also strangely envious. He might tease the guys at work, but he wasn’t comfortable enough with any of them to fool around. Again, not even Dallas.

“This better be important,” she said into the receiver. Jealousy flickered in his chest as her previous words sank in. She’d kept her ringer on for someone. A special someone obviously. His hands fisted.

“I told you no.” Her gaze skidded away from him, allowing him to study her face more intently. Such a red, red mouth … He licked his lips, suddenly imagining ripping the phone away from her and giving her a hard, punishing kiss.

She smelled of something rich and heady, a perfume from the wilds of a jungle, as well as the stars in the heavens. His cells heated, his skin pulled tight against his bones. Nothing dangerous, not yet, allowing him to remain where he was.

And therein lay the danger.

He wanted her so badly, he might try and fool himself into thinking all was well so that he could have her. If he hurt Noelle, scarred her, marred her in any way, he truly would hate himself forever.

You won’t hurt her. You’ve kissed her twice. She’ll be fine
.

He found himself reaching out to sift his fingers through her hair. Thankfully he caught himself in time. He scowled. Temptation was a dark, dark bastard.

Mind out of gutter
. She needed support, not a pawing.

He attempted to listen to her whispered conversation, but couldn’t make out more than “Forget it” and “I’m thinking about becoming a lesbian.” That couldn’t be right, though.

Bit by bit, those silver eyes frosted over. “Mother.” She gave up trying to keep things quiet. “This is Ava’s wedding. I told you I’d talk to you tomorrow. And for the record, I will tell you no about the set-up then, too.” With that, she hung up, stored the phone, and glared at Hector as if everything were his fault.

Her mother. The jealousy vanished—even though the woman had been trying to set her up. Noelle had said no, at least, and would say no tomorrow.

“I can relate,” he said. “My mother was …” A horrendous bitch. Trash. Uttertly sadistic. “Persistent when she wanted something from me.”

“Was?” The sharpest edge of her anger smoothed and just as she had the first day he’d met her, she suddenly appeared cool, aloof, and untouchable. Now, however, he knew she was none of those things.

“She’s dead.”
And I’m the one who killed her
.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

Their gazes locked in a long battle for domination.
A battle he didn’t give his all. He was too busy enjoying her. She was a visual feast, and he couldn’t help but gorge. Such lush femininity, ripe for the taking.

Careful
.

“Why do you care what I’m feeling, anyway?” she grumbled, caving first.

Score one for him. Finally. He always felt out of sorts with her, as if he had never—could never—come out ahead. “I don’t care.” He said the words, an automatic response, but for once, he didn’t mean them.

Her back straightened and her shoulders squared, a predator uncoiling for attack. “That was a very rude thing to say.”

He was getting to her, cutting at her, and she needed that. Needed to drain the poison inside of her, whatever kind of poison it was. “I’m not apologizing for it.” Unlike Dallas, Hector couldn’t make her laugh. At least, he didn’t think he could. He’d never tried to cheer a female up through humor. But he
could
help her, and maybe … maybe one day, when she looked back on this night, she’d remember him fondly.

Or not. “Oh, you darling man,” she said with her sugar sweetness. “Your lips say
no
but your eyes say
I’ve never been sorrier for anything in my life
.”