Jane Doe's Return (15 page)

Travis popped the cork off the wine bottle and poured a glass. He’d stick to the beer, but it was obvious Shauna really didn’t like it. If she didn’t drink the wine, fine by him. He’d finish it for her. Getting drunk might be a good idea.

Why had he told her about Gina? And why did she make him stand at attention every damned time he looked at her? He needed to deaden himself from the waist down.

To make matters worse, she made way too many valid points. Ever since he and Gina broke up, he’d sworn off smart woman and he had been doing a good job at that. Smart women were nothing but trouble. Before you knew it, they were running your life, telling you what to do and when to do it.

He lifted the glass, spilling some of the wine onto the counter.
Damn.
He put the glass down and filled it back up. Shaking his head, he tapped the sliding glass door.

Shauna opened the door, taking the wine glass from him. “Trying to get me drunk?” She seemed to fight off a smile.

“Nope, just me.” He touched her glass with his bottle, then took a gulp. He could get drunk from looking at her. “Why do you have to be so beautiful?” He sipped his beer, almost choking on his own words.

“Thank you, I think.” She took a small sip of the wine and then put it on the table. Looking

down, she fiddled with her rings.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful, do you?” He lifted her chin.

“I don’t think I’m ugly. I just wish it wasn’t about gender all the time.”

“I don’t follow.” He picked up her glass. “It’s much prettier from the sun deck.” He motioned toward the lake.

“There’s no sun.” She took her glass from him and put her other hand in the one he offered.

“Okay, moon deck. Either way it’s really nice right on the lake.” Travis guided her down the path and up the stairs. He placed fluffy cushions on each of the chaise lounge chairs, sat, and then crossed his ankles. She followed suit and they enjoyed the night sounds of the lake and the bright moonlit sky, saying nothing.

It didn’t matter that no words passed between them, because the mounting pressure in his pants had become almost unbearable, making it impossible to utter anything coherent. He turned to look at the cause. She was smiling at him.

“What?”

“Lana told me something funny.”

“I can only imagine.”

“She said you could do this with both legs.” Shauna lifted her leg and dropped it behind her head.

Travis cleared his throat. He stared at her for a full minute, feeling the blood rush to unspeakable places.

“I’ll do it, if you do it.” She smiled at him, lifting her other leg about five inches off the chair.

He blinked. “No way, you can’t.” Oh, but he wanted to see her do it.

“I can.”

“On the count of three.” Travis adjusted himself in the chair. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. It had been years since he had performed this stunt in front of a bunch of giddy girls, giving him the nickname Gumby Boy.

He knew he could still do it. He stretched every day to keep limber. Being flexible had its advantages in the field, but he never showed anyone, not anymore. But right now, he’d do just about anything to see her with both her feet behind her head. “One, two, three.” He lifted both legs, reached for his ankles and shoved them behind his head.

He watched in amazement, while she gracefully raised her other leg behind her head, without the use of her hands.

“I think I just met my match.” Carefully, as not to upset the tender balance in his pants, he used his hands to lower his legs. “Can you do a center split?”

She nodded, lowering her legs and jumping off the chair. “Count of three?”

“Can’t I just watch you?” He sipped his beer, trying to hide his excitement. He wanted to watch her do a lot of things.

“Na-huh.” She pulled him from the chair.

“I haven’t stretched,” he protested. “I don’t think I’m as flexible as you.”

“You’re just chicken.” She giggled as she started to slide.

“Is that a dare?” He stared at her, gently stretching his legs.

“I don’t think you can do it,” she teased.

That did it. Travis Brown was never one to pass on a dare. “Oh, honey, watch this.” He joined her, but couldn’t quite get all the way down. He stayed like that for a moment, stretching, and decided it was more fun to watch. He sat back, crossed his legs, and admired her. She could do a center split and then some. Her legs were as wide as her smile, her elbows on the deck and her chin rested nicely in her palms.

“Nose?” he asked, pointing to his own.

“Better, ear.” She leaned forward with ease. First, her stomach hit the floor, then she smiled and turned her head, gently placing her ear to the indoor/outdoor carpeting.

He shifted. Things just got way out of control down south of the border.

She rolled her inner thighs across the carpet, making it look easy until she lay in front of him on her stomach. Her feet in the air, ankles crossed, and she had the biggest, sexiest smile across her face. “I studied ballet for years, kind of my way to deal with life.”

“Well, it sure paid off.” He tossed what was left of his beer back, finishing it in one giant gulp. Now he felt good and buzzed, but it did nothing for the big fella. He wanted to come out and dance. With her.

“Can I ask you a question?” She sat up, inching a little closer to him.

“Shoot.” He took her wine glass and sipped.

“Are you good in bed?”

He spit the wine out as he coughed and choked. She couldn’t have just asked him if he was good in the sack. “What?” he managed moments later, still coughing.

“You heard me,” she said tersely, fiddling with her toe ring.

“I don’t know.” How did one answer that? “I mean, no one’s ever complained.” Now he sounded like an ass. “Why?” He lifted her chin with this thumb.

She quickly took the wine glass and finished it in one swallow. “My experiences have really sucked and I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of ever liking sex.” She looked everywhere but at

him.

“You don’t like it because of…” He couldn’t form the words.

“I’m sure the rape has something to do with it, but I’m not afraid of sex. My therapist thinks it has more to do with my inability to connect with people. She says I spend too much time focusing on my career and not enough on myself and forming meaningful relationships.”

“Your therapist is probably right.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“My entire family thinks I spend too much time on my career. They are constantly trying to fix me up.”

“I know.”

“Wonderful,” Travis said. “Was it just my mother, or was the rest of the family involved.”

She laughed. “Mostly your mom. She actually asked if agents were allowed to date.”

“She’s bound and determined to find me the right woman.”

“She loves you.”

“Yeah. She does.” Travis took another sip of his wine. “My turn to ask a personal question.”

“Okay.”

“What was your first sexual experience like?”

“Unfortunately, it was the rape.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It took me a long time to get past it. I meet this guy in college and I really liked him, but couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the rape. I thought it might wig him out or something.”

“What happened?”

“He noticed how much I didn’t enjoy being with him and took it personally, ending the relationship.”

“Did you ever try to talk to him about it after?”

“No. I figured I needed more time in therapy. Then I got this bright idea to pick up a guy in a bar and just do it. I still didn’t like it, not sure he did either.”

“I imagine rape would be a hard thing to get over.”

“My therapist told me I needed to tell my partners, so my last boyfriend knew all about the rape, and I really thought he understood.”

He moved closer to her, then leaned his back against the railing and drew her between his legs. Slicking back her hair, he rested his chin on the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. “What didn’t he understand?”

“Me, I guess. He couldn’t…I couldn’t…I mean, well, things had started to heat up in the bedroom, but it wasn’t enough for him, I guess.”

“Had you started to enjoy lovemaking?”

“Certain aspects of it, yes.”

“So what happened?”

“He decided to get it elsewhere with a woman who could fake multiple orgasms better than I could.” Her voice sounded less hurt, more angry. Somehow, it made him feel better.

“You shouldn’t have to fake anything.”

“I only tried to fake it with him because he would get so mad and frustrated because he couldn’t make me…I was never able too, umm…well…” she paused, taking a deep breath, “I thought it would make him feel better. I guess you’d need to have one, to know how to fake one.” She pulled away from Travis and turned. “I get the impression you’re the kind of lover who would be…considerate, figure out what worked, or didn’t.”

Floored by the conversation, he stared at her for a moment. “I have my moments, but I can be a selfish bastard.”

“I just thought—”

“Don’t,” he snapped.

Her gaze met his. “You understand so much more than most men. You make me want…I feel…like a woman when I’m with you.” Her hand moved to his thigh.

“I’m flattered, but you can’t be suggesting that you and I, that we…?” He let the words hang.

She nodded.

“We’d lose our jobs.” He swallowed, wanting her more than anything and she was offering herself to him.

“No one would ever know but us. Besides, you’ve already kissed me. That alone could get you fired.” She pursed her lips.

Hell, he’d initiated the kiss; she was right. He could get canned if anyone found out. At most, she’d get scolded. Sleeping with her would not only be detrimental to his career, it would put an end to the never-ending pool of information he needed to find his sister’s killer. “You can’t be serious?” He heard his voice crack.

She stood, placing her hands on the railing, and looked out over the bay. “Do you have any idea what’s it’s like to live like this? I had been content to think that sex sucked. Then,
bam
, you come along, stirring all these feelings inside me, making me think that things could be different. God, Travis, I don’t understand. No one has ever made me feel this way before.” She closed her eyes.

Travis rose on shaky legs. “Shauna, look at me.” He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and show her what making love could be like. He wasn’t sure he could give her everything she wanted, but he was confident she would, at the very least, like it…a little.

But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. Damn his conscience. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

He heard her suck in a breath as her lids fluttered open. The blue of her eyes flickered in the starlight that rippled against the lake. Being a gentleman had never been harder.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink.” She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Believe me. It’s not that I don’t want to.” He pulled her close, pressing his erection against her. “I want you.” He couldn’t resist kissing her, but kept the kiss under control, ending it long before he wanted to.

She cupped his face and pulled him back to her mouth. Her tongue felt hot and wet against his lips.

“Shauna.” He tried desperately to maintain control as he gripped her hips. Abruptly, he pushed her back.

Sadness filled her eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His breath came in short pants and his pulse quickened with each breath.

“I suspect the same thing you do to me,” she answered softly.

He traced her bottom lip and then nipped it with his teeth. “I want to be with you. I have since I saw you at the airport.” He pressed his mouth against hers, parting her lips and tasting her sweet tongue. Her lips molded against his as if they were two pieces to a puzzle.

When he thought he might die a happy man, he pulled away. Searching her eyes for some kind of understanding, he brushed a tear away from her cheek. “Not like this,” he whispered.

“Please, Travis.”

Tormented, his mind shifted between his desire for her and his desire to do right by her. Part of him wanted to just take her and chalk it up to meaningless sex.

But she wasn’t meaningless. She was the kind of woman he could be with. She was the kind of woman he would want to find after he put Marie’s killer away for good. Why did she have to come into his life…now…under these circumstances?
Everything happens for a reason.

“No,” he said softly against her cheek.

She pulled away from him, as if she had been slapped, then ran from the deck.

“Real smooth.” He grabbed the wine glass and empty beer bottle and headed for the house.