Dark Taste of Rapture (20 page)

Will not laugh
. “Did you really think you and Ava would grow old together?” he asked, tossing enough disgust in his voice to piss
anyone
off. “That neither one of you would ever fall in love? Get married?”

Smoldering silence followed his words. She remained still—more predator than before. A wounded panther, ready to strike.

Whatever she dished, he could take. He
wanted
to take. To do something besides walk away from her—or watch her walk away from him. “McKell won her pretty quickly, didn’t he? I mean, it only took him a few months to rip her from your side. That must mean she was ready to leave you, was probably tired of you.”

Annnd here came the explosion. “She wasn’t tired of me, you bastard! She will never be tired of me, just like I will never be tired of her. I’m her best friend, and she loves me.
She loves me
.”

Success, he thought, and oh, was it bittersweet. He did not like seeing Noelle so torn up. Did that stop him from continuing to push? No. “And you love her? Enough to miss her already?”

“Yes. Okay? Yes. Is that what you want to hear? I miss her so damn badly.” Tears pooled in her eyes, a bone-deep hurt reflected there. “I love that she’s happy, but I hate that I’m losing her. She’s mine, not McKell’s.
Mine
. I found her first, and I should get to … she should …” Her shoulders slumped.

“She should appreciate you better? Because you built her up, right? You made her what she is?”

The fire returned, swiftly burning through the hurt. “Hell, no! She built
me
up.” Noelle thumped her chest, just over her heart. “She made me better. I was on a very dark path, and she became my light. I love her more than … more than …” She raised her chin. “I love her more than
anything
. I would bend over backward to help her bend
someone else
over backward! And I will always be there for her—if I’ve got nowhere better to be.”

Maybe the hurt hadn’t burned away. Maybe Hector had absorbed every last drop, because damn, his chest was doing that aching thing again. She was throwing out facts—her love—but mixing it with her pain—claiming she had somewhere better to be. A heartbreaking, amazing mix.

The tears sprang forth anew and cascaded down her cheeks in a white-hot stream. She wiped them away with a shaky hand, then stared down with shock at the wetness on her skin. “I’m crying. Shit! I’m crying. I never cry.”

Yeah, and the sight of those tears nearly undid him the rest of the way.
Can’t tug her close. Can’t hold her
. “Why are you beating yourself up about your feelings?”

“Because,” she sniffed, retreating into her stubborn shell.

“Don’t make me rip the answer out of you. Why?” he insisted.

“Oh, all right.” Another grumble. “I’ll tell you, but only to save time. I can’t wait to get away from you.”

Hardly. If that were the case, she would have already left. Would have busted his lip with her fist and bolted.

The knowledge that she
wanted
to be here, with him … He remembered how she’d once begged so sweetly for him to kiss her. Just a taste, she’d said, luring him straight into temptation, unable to resist.

Can’t fucking hold her
.

“I’m beating myself up because I should only be happy for her,” she whispered, each word dripping with shame. “I shouldn’t be sad for myself.”

“Just so you know, being both—happy for her and
sad for you—doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.”

“I guess.” How miserable she still sounded.

“Would you rather be a cold son of a bitch like me?”

She lifted her head. The first thing he noticed, her lashes were long, spiky, and wet. The second, she was a damn pretty crier. No swollen eyes or red, splotchy skin for this one. Just vulnerability and angel-soft loveliness.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked in that soft tone. “You hate me.”

Hate her? When he hungered for her more than he’d ever hungered for another? But then, he done everything in his power to shove her out of his life, hadn’t he? And he needed to keep shoving.

If he stopped, gave in to her, the consequences would be everlasting.

Yeah. He should leave. Now. Should walk away. He was good at that, as he’d already proven. Instead, he gave her the words that might damn them both. “I don’t hate you, Noelle. I fucking
crave
you.”

S
HOCK BOMBARDED NOELLE AS
Hector’s confession rang in her ears. He was breathing heavily, some dark emotion practically bursting through his skin. So badly she wanted to believe him.

Crave her?
Please
.

She studied his tortured expression. Pushing for answers here, now, wasn’t wise anyway you sliced it. Public place, possible public humiliation. Did that stop her? Hell, no. “You can’t—what you said can’t be true. You wouldn’t ignore me—”

A moment passed as he visibly fought for control. He rubbed a hand down his face, the skin on his palm normal, the ink dark. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Too bad. “You brought it up. Also, you made me talk about my problems when I didn’t want to.” And he’d helped her in a way she could hardly believe. She felt lighter, more guilt leaving her by the second. “A year ago, you stomped all over me, told me never to speak to—”

“I know what I told you,” he snapped, interrupting again. “I don’t need a retelling.”

“So why are you with me right now? Helping me with my problems? Telling me that you …”—her voice lowered to a barely audible rasp—“crave me.” Why? The intensity of her need to know the answer staggered her.

How many nights had she pleasured herself while thinking of him? Now he was suggesting, in a roundabout way of course, that he had done the same. That amazed her, delighted her. Truth or lie, though?

He looked over his shoulder, at his car, as if he longed to bolt.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Scowling, she cupped his cheeks and forced his attention back to her. “You’re staying right here and confessing.”

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits, a glare that usually preceded multiple dark curses. Instead, he said, “I’ll stay.” Harsh, broken. “
If
we talk about something else.”

Damn him. He meant it. Restrictions grated, big time. In fact, she would have left him in the dust on principle alone, but then he did the strangest thing. He leaned into her touch, rubbing his stubbled jaw against her palm, practically purring like a contented kitten.

Maybe he
did
crave her. But … but …

When he realized what he was doing, he went military straight and paled. He shook out of her hold, his eyes glazing fearfully, guiltily, then angrily.

He had liked the connection, but hadn’t wanted to like it. Why? The question of the day, it seemed. Hell, the question of the year.

Whatever the answer, though, he wasn’t yet ready to spill all and really would bail if she remained in pursuit. That fear … So she would drop the craving thing. For now. But, oh, God, hope swirled through her, a bright light in an endlessly dark void.

“So, uh, how have you been?” she asked, hands tingling where they’d touched him.

Now he arched a brow, losing his worry, guilt, and anger in a single instant. Relief descended. “Since yesterday?”

“No, smartass. Since …”
Our last kiss
. “All year.”

“Good. You?”

“Same.”

Awkward silence.

O-kay. Was this how it would always be between them? Either snipping and snapping at each other, on the road to kissing, or struggling for something to say? A fraction of the hope withered.

“How’s our suspect, the van’s driver?” she asked, deciding to talk shop rather than separating and ending on a bad note. There had to be more to their relationship than the snipping and silence. Right? He
craved
her.

A little color drained from his cheeks, and he rocked back on his heels. “I wasn’t going to tell you until after the wedding, but …”

“What?”

“He killed himself.”

“What! How? When?”

“At the hospital. Cyanide pill. Had one in a hidden pocket.”

“Why would someone do that?”

Hector’s strong shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Fear. You remember what he said, about the mysterious
he
hurting him worse than we ever could.”

Yeah, but still. “You get any useful info out of him first?”

An abrupt shake of his head, the color returning to his cheeks and deepening with … shame? Probably. Hector took his job more seriously than most, and took his cases personally.

Noelle flattened her hand above his heart. The organ rushed up to meet her, the beat quickening. Hector didn’t chastise her. “Wasn’t your fault,” she said, offering comfort. “And two women were saved from God knows what.”

He gulped. His gaze met hers, the gold glittering, no hint of the frost he so often directed at her.

In an instant, her thought path changed course. From business straight back to the pleasure. She had her hand on him. He was close enough to kiss. And he craved her.

Thought you weren’t going to do this with him ever again?

Things change
. He craved her. She would never get tired of those words.

You’ve forgotten the humiliation of his rejection, then?

Argh! She despised these conversations with herself.

Dallas had amused her, but Hector… Hector tantalized her. He didn’t tease, he snarled. He didn’t flirt, he informed. His intensity was a constant brush against her nerve endings, awakening long forgotten parts of her body, working her into a frenzy.

“You know, the last two times we stood like this, we … did things,” she reminded him huskily.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Never forgotten.”

Me, either
. “We should probably—”
Go our separate ways
. She tried to force the words out of her mouth, but they congested in her throat.

“Yeah,” he repeated. He leaned closer, closer, probably seeing the pulse at the base of her neck speed out of rhythm. He hovered there, breathing her in, as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

Forget separating. She wanted more and took care of the rest, tracing her tongue along the seam of his lips. He moaned, but didn’t open, so she turned her attention to
his
pulse, licking up the base of his neck. She loved the honey and almond flavor of his skin. Loved the—

Honey and almond.

Like a woman’s body lotion.

Jealousy was like a thousand knives inside her. What he did—had done—wasn’t her business. They weren’t dating. He could do whatever the hell he wanted, with whomever the hell he wanted.

And yet, still Noelle felt her nails dig into his chest as she straightened. “Hector, I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to answer honestly or I swear to God I’ll ensure you’re never able to have children. Did you just have sex with someone?”

He stiffened, that flush of shame now so deeply rooted he might never get rid of it. “No, I did not have sex with anyone.” Each word was carefully uttered, precisely measured, as if he didn’t want to lie, but didn’t want to admit the truth, either.

In his favor, he hadn’t stated the obvious by pointing out that she had no right to pry into his love life.

“Did you make out with someone after leaving the chapel?” she asked. Every base would be covered before she allowed him to leave her.

“No.”

“Kiss someone?”

“No.” He pulled a pair of black gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on. “Let me make this interrogation easier and just admit that I haven’t done anything with a woman, any woman, for a while. And before you ask,” he added with barely a pause, “a while is a long time and no, I won’t define a long time.”

Well, all right, then. The potent mix of jealousy and fury drained the rest of the way.

“Are my testicles safe?” he asked, and damn if his lips weren’t twitching as if he wanted to grin, those golden eyes sparkling.

Irresistible man
. “For now.” As relaxed as he suddenly was, now might be the perfect time to gain perspective and dig up some answers. Other than the ones he’d already denied her. “So, why did you storm out earlier?”

Lids narrowing, lashes fusing. “I didn’t storm out. I simply made a hasty exit.”

“Because your pants were on fire?” Wasn’t that how the old song went?

“Something like that,” he muttered.

Fighting an urge to draw him closer, she traced her fingers down the edge of his lapels, the material soft. He licked his lips.

Seeing his tongue ramped her up all over again.
You’re so easy
. With him, yeah. She was. “You made me cry, Hector.” Today, a year ago. But she didn’t mention the past.

“I know,” he replied, gruff. “But I’m not sorry. You needed it.”

“Well, now you have to kiss me better.”

Every muscle in Hector’s body stiffened. Kiss her? “What about Don Carlos? Will he mind?”

“He has a very open mind.”

Exactly what I thought
. “No other boyfriends?”