More Than One Night (12 page)

He'd hopped on the first flight to Chicago and checked in to the airport hotel. After several hours of quality time with Google, YP.com, and his cell phone, he'd found her. His enigma worked at the library in Bolingbrook, tucked nicely between three other similar suburbs. A forty-five minute commute later, he stepped inside the brick walls of the library. His pulse quickened when the breathtaking emerald of her eyes once again streamed into his line of vision. God, how he'd missed them. Missed her.

Mesmerized children sat in a semi-circle around Melodie, her expressions and tone of voice transported everyone, including him, to a world of giants, kings, princesses, and happily-ever-afters. Hell, she could read him a bedtime story every night.
Wearing sexy lingerie, of course.
Her voice provided the background noise for the fantasy playing out in his head. As his other head grew impatient for the story to end so he could make his apology, he tucked the daydream safely under the covers until he could revisit it again or, preferably, replace it with the flesh-and-blood woman sitting across the room.

The last page turned as the fairy tale ending neared. He stepped from behind the bookshelf, doubling as cover, and joined in her final words, "And they lived happily ever after."

Visions of Melodie surrounded by miniature replicas of her…or him created an odd sense of peace deep within his soul. Her eyes locked with his for a moment before exuberant children with pent-up energy from sitting so long rushed the little stage to topple her with hugs and squeals of joy.

Incredibly beautiful, warm, caring, and vibrant. His insides vibrated with longing, the need to hold her in his arms and to promise her they'd find a way to put their troubled pasts behind them rendered him momentarily speechless. The arrival of the parents to claim their children snapped him from his thoughts.

Only one little girl remained. "Miss Melodie?"

"Yes, Nessa?"

"Who is he?" The red-haired little girl with bright eyes hidden behind blue-framed glasses pointed in his direction.

Not wanting to give Melodie a chance to explain, he made the strides necessary to put him squarely in front of the little girl. Crouching down, he offered his best smile. Leaning in, he whispered, "Can you promise to keep a secret?"

Wide eyes blinked as her head nodded in agreement.

"I'm her knight in shining armor."

Nessa gasped and covered her mouth, "You are?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you two gonna live happily ever after?"

He chanced a quick look at Melodie, wide-eyed and looking as interested in the answer as Nessa. "Well, young lady, there's a big giant—like the one after Jack—trying to keep us apart. I'm going to do everything in my power to vanquish the bad guy and rescue milady. Can I count on you for help, if needed?" He leveled a wannabe-serious glare at Nessa. At that moment, he was very thankful for all the bedtime stories he'd read to Annie.

Her face wrinkled, scrunching her tiny nose in an adorable fashion. "I'm only six. You're on your own, mister."

He hung his head, hands over his heart. "I shall try to be brave then."

Nessa giggled. "You're silly." She caught sight of her mother and ran toward her. "Bye, Miss Melodie. Bye, Mr. Knight."

Melodie's smile disappeared, the sadness returning to her face. "I'm surprised to see you. I…I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"I know. You presented a bit of a challenge to find too. I'm sorry about what happened, but I want to talk. What time do you get off?"

"In about fifteen. How'd you find me?"

Her curious nature served as the opportunity to convince her to talk. "Let me buy you dinner, and I'll explain everything."

"Coffee and dessert."

"Drinks?" Threads of desperation seeped into his tone, both alarming and aggravating him. This woman had a way of knocking him off balance every time they spoke.

The familiar site of chocolate brown waves swishing over her shoulders eased the momentary frustration. "I need caffeine." She directed a pointed look squarely at him. "Haven't been sleeping well the past few days."

"Coffee it is." Don't sell past the yes. Good advice his father reminded him of countless times when he was younger.

Thirty minutes later, they were seated at a nearby Starbucks, a triple nonfat latte for her, and black coffee for him, with matching chocolate chip cookies sitting between them.

"How did you find me?"

Straight to the point. I like a woman who doesn't play games.
"I made a lot of calls to libraries in the past day or so."

"Why did you find me?"

"Because you left before we could finish our conversation. I've had some time to think, and I'd like the opportunity to explain."

She sipped the hot beverage, watching him through long dark lashes. "I'm sorry I left so abruptly. I…I felt…I don't even know how to explain it. Generally, I'm not that quick to react."

"You were upset. I get it. Now you've had some time to think, can we talk?" Please God, let her be willing to talk about this. He needed to put this behind him and move forward.

A piece of cookie found its way to her mouth as she nodded. He tried hard to remain focused. Nice to know her ability to distract him hadn't diminished.

A slow, deep breath helped him continue. He looked around to see who else might hear his confession. Thankfully, there was only one other patron having their coffee inside, and she was on the other side of the café. "I thought a lot about what you said that morning. I want to tell you what happened."

She took his hand, sending a jolt of warmth through his limbs. "I really do want to know."

He took a deep breath, squeezed her hand, and nodded. "I volunteered for the assignment. One of the locals, who I'd come to know and had fed me and my unit information about rebel activity when I was an enlisted man, had been kidnapped by a faction. He was being held in a remote village. His family hired my company for a rescue attempt. We took two trucks. The first one, manned by three men in uniforms, contained supplies. We wanted it to look like a humanitarian mission in case we were being watched. The second vehicle, my truck, had the weapons."

He released her hand, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. "Everything had been going according to plan when we came to a fork in the road. Both roads led to the same place and, according to the map, were essentially the same distance. The only notable difference was the towns each traversed along the way. The intel in my briefing package revealed no significant threat difference between the two routes. I had to choose."

He opened his eyes. "I had to make a choice—left or right." He exhaled, blinking back the few tears he'd not managed to get rid of. "I chose wrong, and the first truck in the convoy hit the buried bomb not even half a mile down the road. Those three men lost their lives that day because of the decision I made."

The tears bathing her beautiful cheeks almost broke his resolve not to cry. Wanting to feel close to her again, he covered her hand with his. "I thought I'd accepted my role in the incident after my time with the shrink. After you left, I yelled, screamed, even cursed God and everybody wishing this had never happened or that I could just forget about it and move on. In the end, though, I decided I needed to talk about it at least once more. Because of what you went through with Tom, you are the person I wanted to tell. So many brave men and women lost their lives over there. I want you to find peace, even if I'm not at that point yet."

The coffee cup sat forgotten as her gaze pierced his. She was still here, listening intently, so he decided to finish.

 "You have to believe that Tom's death had meaning. He died serving his country and trying to help the people in a country ravaged by war. It doesn't make it any easier, but I hope someday you can see the honor in the choices he made. On the other hand, I would give anything to go back and make a different choice—right instead of left."

Her gaze sharpened. He could almost see her mind focus. After several long, painstaking moments, she finally spoke. "It might not have made a difference."

"What?"

"You're assuming there weren't any mines on the other road."

Damn, she's right.
He slumped back, his mind begrudgingly reliving the fateful day. "I…I'd never really considered it. The shrink and I focused primarily on the aspect of my survival and the resulting guilt. The subject that either direction might've had the same results never surfaced." If he were still in the military, he'd demand that Lieutenant lose a few stripes.

The silence stretched between them as the information soaked through layers of guilt, denial, and hurt.

"You forgive me?" He needed to know. Her forgiveness was the main reason he'd gone to all this trouble to find her again.

She shook her head, sending a spark of pain straight to the center of his heart. He truly didn't know how he'd ever find another woman who affected him as intensely as the woman sitting across from him.
Or how I'll find peace.

"There's nothing you need forgiveness for from me. You need to forgive yourself."

"Yeah, well, that's easier said than done." The last thing he needed was someone else psychoanalyzing him.

"I understand. Truly, I do. I've been angry at Tom for leaving me and for getting himself killed. Your words have challenged me to rethink all of it from a different perspective. Rather than focus on his death, I'll focus on his bravery and sacrifice."

She stood, and his heart paused its beating. She was going to leave, and he'd be alone…again. "Let's get out of here," Melodie's hand extended toward him.

The wild thumping in his chest signaled his heart still worked. His inability to read her at this moment both perplexed and excited him. Was his shy librarian taking charge? Yeah, she definitely would be the death of him. But what a way to go.

"Where do you want to go?" He smiled. "I'd suggest my place, but since I checked out of the hotel this morning, that's not really an option."

"You really are a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy, aren't you?"

At her teasing, he hoped he hadn't misread her signals. He cupped her cheek, pulling her into a kiss. God, how he'd missed those lips. Soft, sexy, and sensual. She resisted at first—a move he totally expected from his cautious librarian. He may not know how to deal with all this psychological bullshit, but he knew how to kiss a woman. A soft
mmmm
from her confirmed his confidence in those abilities. Sliding his tongue over coffee-laden lips, he deepened their connection. The ache in his heart lessened each time he touched her and minimizing pain made the top of the priority list. He'd been right. Melodie provided a much better solution than alcohol. Blocking out all other thoughts, he concentrated on her smooth skin, intoxicating subtle scent, and the sinfully seductive sounds of her pleasure. The world could explode around him right now, and he wouldn't give a damn.

Finally, she pulled away, staring at him from dark emerald eyes. "My place."

Her hands trembled with the key as conflicting emotions, desire, and nerves waged a fierce battle in the forefront of her brain. Since returning from Texas, her world had transformed from black to grey and then somewhere in between as she found her courage to try again. Daniel's surprise visit to the library confirmed her faith in romantic gestures and, maybe, in love itself. Too much of her life had been wasted. No more time for regrets. No more living in Evelyn's shadow. No more avoiding life when it was standing right in front of her—looking incredibly handsome.

"Finally," she chuckled when the lock gave way, and the door opened. "Don't mind the mess. I wasn't expecting company and…"

Her words were cut off as Daniel swept her into his arms and carried her down the short hall. "Is the bedroom this way? I hope you didn't make the bed this morning because I intend to unmake it in grand fashion."

"I…" she yelped as he dropped her unceremoniously onto the queen-size bed which, as he'd hoped, remained unmade.

"I've missed you." His hands slid under her blouse, lifting until the material blocked her vision for a few moments before joining the T-shirt she'd slept in last night. Not even bothering to unfasten her bra, his fingers slid under the silk, exposing her to his gaze and, most importantly, his fiery touch.

"Daniel…mmmm…missed you too." She arched her back as the warmth of his mouth suckled the enervated tip. "Sweet heaven."

His hands deftly unbuttoned, unzipped, and undressed her bottom half. "I plan on taking you so high you have to look down to see heaven."

Sitting up, she reached for him, tugging on the waistband of his shirt to free it from his jeans. "You're overdressed."

"Looking to change that?"

Her hands slid over his muscled chest, nails scraping against his flat nipples. Adrenaline surged at his sharp gasp from her bold move. "Like that?" she whispered. She certainly liked being strong with him and for him.

She gasped as he lifted her off the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist as strong hands cupped her bottom, holding her close.

"I love it."

His words slipped past any remaining objections her heart might offer. He moved their bodies until her back encountered the paneled wall of the bedroom, delightfully trapping her between two very hard surfaces. The prominent bulge of his denim-covered arousal taunted and teased her satin-clad center. "You're still overdressed."

"Patience, my sexy wallflower. I have to admit, you look pretty damn good pressed up against this particular wall."

She had no chance to reply as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe. Heat pulsed and fanned across her flesh, warming her entire being. Fingertips pressed into her thighs, holding her immobile against the short thrusts of his lower body. "Daniel…please."

The moment he released her legs and she regained her balance, she pushed him backward until he fell onto the bed. This time need alone hurried her movements, driving her actions. The button and zipper on his jeans dealt with, she tugged until lean, muscled thighs appeared. "Condom?"