Passion's Law (10 page)

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Authors: Ruth Langan

BOOK: Passion's Law
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“Such as?”

She took a step back, breaking contact. But even as her heart felt battered, she lifted her chin, determined not to let him see how much he'd hurt her with that accurate description of the way she'd been. “I'm also a girl with a good mind who wanted more than the superficial things her friends were chasing after. A free spirit who hated the gilded cage she'd been born to. Someone who learned early in life that she could do whatever she set her mind to. And I
will.” Her voice lowered to a breathy sigh. “Though I guess it won't be with you.”

She turned away. “Good night, Thad. I'm glad I was able to help with Brittany. By the way, those fevers aren't usually serious in little ones. It could be something as simple as a virus going around the neighborhood. Or a cold. If it doesn't come back, you're out of the woods.”

She picked up her purse and started toward the door. Before she could pull it open he was across the room in quick strides. His hand closed over hers on the doorknob.

“That's what the doctor said. So what makes you so knowledgeable about kids?”

She shrugged and kept her back to him. “When I worked as a camp counselor, we had to know a smattering of health and first aid.”

“So you told me.” He lifted his hand away from hers. “I told you what I saw in you. But you haven't told me what you see when you look at me.”

“That's easy.” She turned. “I see a strong man. Strong enough to pick up the pieces after the death of his wife and raise their little girl alone. An honest, decent man in a world that makes it easy to be otherwise. With a clever mind. Clever enough to fashion a dollhouse for his daughter's birthday, while putting in full days climbing the ranks of the department. A man who's maybe a little too proud
sometimes, especially when he needs help and refuses to ask for it.” She took a deep breath and stared up into his eyes. “You're a good man, Thad Law.”

He shook his head. “No I'm not. I've seen things you can't even imagine. Misery. So much of it, I could hardly breathe because the stench of it filled my lungs. Crimes so violent I'll never be able to speak of them. I've seen every kind of deviant behavior man can think of. I'm not nice, Heather. This job, this world I live in, changes a man. There are dark places inside me you can never go. And if you could glimpse them, you'd run screaming back to your safe, sheltered mansion.”

She lifted her chin. “I'm not afraid, Thad. Not of you. And not of your life.”

“You ought to be, dammit.” Without thinking, he grabbed her arm. His eyes were suddenly hot and fierce, and despite her protest, she felt a tingle of fear. “If you knew what I was thinking right now, you'd be shocked right down to the toes of those designer sandals. And you'd want to do a whole lot more than just slap my face.”

Instead of pulling away she lifted her finger to his lips. “Why don't you tell me? Or better yet, show me.”

He groaned and closed his hands roughly over the tops of her arms, intending to push her away. But
the minute he came in contact with her flesh, he felt the rush of need that seemed to take over his will.

He dragged her against him, his face in her hair. “You don't want me, Heather.”

“I do.” She said it so simply, he felt a tiny crack in his armor.

Still, one of them needed to be strong. To be sensible. “I can't be gentle.”

“I don't need you to be gentle.” She pressed her lips to his throat. “I just need you, Thad.”

He was helpless to fight this. He could feel his body straining toward hers. Could feel himself slowly slipping under her spell. Still he had to give her one last chance to run. “I can't make you any promises.”

“I won't ask for any.”

“Then you're a fool. Because right now, this minute, I'd give you the moon if you asked.”

And then his mouth was on hers, like a man desperate to take. His arms came around her, pressing her so firmly against him, he could feel her heartbeat inside his own chest.

Still it wasn't enough. He wanted her. All of her. With the kind of madness born of desperation.

Whatever fears he harbored were forgotten. Whatever differences divided them were put aside.

For now, for tonight, he would give in to the madness that drove him and deal with his demons when the storm of passion had run its course.

Ten

H
e tasted her. Devoured her. Drawing in all that sweet, exotic flavor that seemed so unique to her.

Too rich for my blood.

The thought came back to haunt him and he knew, if he'd taken time to think this through, he'd have been wise to send her packing.

But he wasn't wise. He was a fool. One who couldn't think, couldn't reason. All he could do now was let the tide of insanity carry him, and savor the moment.

Framing her face, he stared down into those wide blue eyes. “I'll try to be gentle, Heather. But I've
wanted you for so long.” He pressed soft kisses to her eyelids, her cheek, the tip of her nose, forcing himself to taste, when what he wanted was to feast. “So very long.”

His tongue tangled with hers, teasing, arousing, until she sighed from the pure pleasure of it. He lingered over the kiss, as though he'd found a rare treasure worth much more than gold.

Heather sighed, drinking in the dark, male taste of him. His admission that he wanted her, and had for a long time, went straight to her head. His lips were more potent than whiskey. His hands, those big clever hands, brought such pleasure as they moved over her. And his eyes. Those midnight-blue eyes were mesmerizing. Each time she looked into them, she could see herself reflected there. It was the most erotic sensation to see his passion, his needs and desires, so clearly in his eyes.

Just as she began to relax he brought his mouth to her ear. With his teeth he lightly nipped at her lobe before darting his tongue inside. She chuckled at the sweet sensations that rippled through her. But a moment later her laughter became a moan of desperation when he began trailing hot wet kisses along the smooth column of her throat.

She knew if she were a cat she'd be purring. She arched her neck, giving him easier access. He ran light, feathery kisses across her shoulder, over her
collarbone. But when he brought his mouth lower, she clutched at his shoulders, afraid that at any moment her trembling legs might fail her.

He pressed her back against the closed door and, with his mouth on hers, kissed her until she couldn't seem to get her breath. When at last he lifted his head she struggled to take air into her starving lungs.

“Last chance,” he said abruptly. “If you want out of this, Heather, I won't stop you.”

Even as the words slipped from his mouth he wanted to call them back. But it was too late. All those years as a cop had taught him to put everyone else's needs before his own.

For several seconds all he heard was the sound of her ragged breathing. His heart forgot to beat as he waited, wondering what he'd do if she turned away. He'd beg, he'd crawl, he'd die to keep her here with him. If she walked away now he'd go mad with this need that was heating his blood, clouding his mind, battering his senses.

She tossed her head, feigning a boldness she didn't quite feel. “You're not getting rid of me so easily, Thad. I told you. I'm in all the way.”

“That's good.” He took in several deep draughts of air, hoping to calm his ragged heartbeat. “I wasn't sure I could let you go.”

With his eyes steady on hers he brought his hands
to the ends of her gauzy shirt and tugged it over her head before tossing it carelessly aside.

He'd known she would wear silk and lace next to her skin. But the anticipation was nothing like the reality. Seeing that cool, pale silk against her sun-bronzed skin had him thoroughly aroused. He was frantic to tear away the silk and lace, tossing aside the remnants before letting his gaze burn slowly over her.

She looked, in the lamplight, like some beautiful gilded creature that he'd simply imagined. How was it possible for any woman to be this lovely? All that honey hair and golden skin, and the most amazing body. The kind of woman a man spun fantasies around. Like some lush actress far removed from reality.

“Heather.” He whispered her name like a prayer and felt her shiver. “You're so beautiful, you take my breath away.”

He lowered his head to her breast, his tongue slowly circling until she gasped and clutched at him. He took one erect nipple into his mouth, suckling until she called out his name on a sob. Still he continued the sweet torture, moving from one breast to the other until she thought she would surely go mad.

She was forced to hold on tightly, afraid of falling. But as her world settled again, she became desperate to touch him the way he was touching her.

She struggled with the buttons of his shirt, nearly tearing them off in her haste. When she slid it from his shoulders she moved her palms over his muscled chest, loving the feel of his flesh against hers.

How long she'd wanted to touch him like this. The thought of that hard, toned body had kept her awake so many nights.

On a little sigh she brought her lips to his chest, running openmouthed kisses through the crisp hair. She felt such unbearable excitement as she traced the taut muscles, then moved lower to the flat planes of his stomach, while her fingers fumbled with the snap at his waist until she had him out of the last of his clothes.

Her touch had him wild with need.

Before she had a chance to think he untied her slacks and tugged them over her hips.

His smile was quick and dangerous when he caught sight of the lace thong. “I'm so glad you're wearing that. Did you know it's been one of my fantasies?”

“Then I'm happy to oblige, Detective. In fact, I rather like the idea of being part of your erotic dreams.”

Her smile faded when he tore it aside and found her, hot and moist. Without warning he took her on a wild, frantic climb to the first peak, and then over.
But instead of giving her time to recover, he took her again until she was gasping for breath.

“Thad.” Her eyes were glazed, her throat burning, as though she'd just run a marathon.

He took her hands in his and lowered her to the floor. With their clothes beneath them they lay, lost in a world of such hard, driving need, the rest of the world seemed to have slipped away.

A gentle rain had begun to fall, dancing against the windows. Neither of them took any notice. Somewhere down the street a car's horn sounded. They didn't hear it. The room was so quiet they could feel each ragged breath, sense each thunderous heartbeat.

They lay locked in an embrace, their bodies slick, the heat of passion rising up between them, threatening to engulf them. His hands tangled in her hair and he drew her head back to stare into her eyes.

“Please, Thad.” She hated the note of pleading in her voice, but the need was so great, she could hardly bear it.

“Not yet. There's so much more I want to show you. So much more to give.” He covered her mouth with his in a kiss so savage it startled her. For a moment she drew back, startled by the darkness she could taste in him.

Then, as he drew out the kiss, she became so caught up in it, she felt herself sliding with him into
the darker side of passion. The need was so intense, so all-consuming, there was nothing she wouldn't do for release.

They rolled across the floor, each driving the other to a new level of madness. One minute she was on top of him, driving him wild with need. The next he moved over her with teeth and lips and tongue, driving her higher, then higher still, keeping what she craved just out of reach.

She clutched at him, touching him as he was touching her. And with each touch he felt the madness rise up and claw at him, fighting to be free.

His body was alive with need. A need that only she could satisfy. And still he held back.

Now there was no tenderness as he feasted on her body. His lips moved from one breast to the other, nibbling and suckling until she moaned and writhed beneath him.

She arched toward him, her hands fisting in the clothes beneath her, while he slowly drove her beyond madness. Though she could hear a voice screaming in her head, her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper. The only word she could speak was his name.

He struggled to hold back his needs for a minute more as he brought his mouth down her body. He felt her stiffen, and knew that he was taking her to an even darker place. A place she'd never been.

This was how he'd wanted her, how he'd dreamed of her. His. Only his. The touch she craved was his. The only name on her lips was his as he took her up, again and again, until she was blind with need.

“Heather.”

He saw her eyes open, watched as she struggled to focus through the red-hot mist of passion that clouded her vision.

And then, as he entered her, she rose up and wrapped herself around him, matching his strength with her own. She moved with him, climbed with him until they seemed to break free of the bonds of earth and fly, soaring among the stars. As they reached the moon they seemed to splinter, before exploding into the most amazing shower of light.

It was a journey unlike anything they'd ever known before.

As they drifted down to earth, his lungs were filled with the fragrance of crushed roses. It was, he knew, a perfume that would forever remind him of this enchanted night, and this amazing woman.

 

“Are you all right?” Thad's mouth was still pressed to her throat.

“Um-hmm.” It was all she could manage.

Heather felt as if something cataclysmic had just happened. As if she'd come as close to dying as it was possible in this life. And that in a single instant
she'd been reborn a new woman. A woman who was totally, completely satisfied.

She'd never experienced anything like this. There had been nothing in her life to compare. Was it because of her strong feelings for him? Or was it merely because he was such an incredible lover?

He levered himself above her, easing his weight from her. “Am I too heavy?”

“Um-hmm.”

His smile was quick. He studied the way she looked, her eyes still heavy-lidded with passion, her lips still moist and swollen from his kisses. “Is that all you're going to say?”

“Um…I don't think I can manage anything more.”

“It was that good?”

She touched a finger to his mouth. “If it was any better, I'd be floating on the ceiling.”

He felt a wave of relief. The truth was, he'd never felt anything even close to this before. He'd worried that he'd been so wrapped up in his own pleasure, he'd neglected hers. But now, to learn that she'd experienced it as well had his heartbeat returning to normal.

He rolled aside and drew her close. “I'm sorry about the floor.”

“The floor?” For a moment his words didn't register. When they did, she seemed surprised to find
herself lying near the door, with only their clothes as a cushion. “I hope you intend to carry me to your bed the next time.”

“What makes you think there'll be a next time?”

She sat up, tracing a finger through the mat of dark hair on his chest. “Five dollars says you can't keep away from me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Such humility.”

She merely laughed. “And to make it more interesting, I'll bet you double or nothing it'll happen before morning.”

“Does this mean you're planning on staying the night?”

In reply she bent over him, running light, feathery kisses down his throat, over his chest, and then lower, to his stomach.

She felt his muscles contract as he fisted a hand in her hair. “No fair. You're not playing by the rules.”

“I didn't know there were any. I thought all was fair in love and war.”

“And which is this?”

She gave a delighted laugh. “It's definitely not war. Though I do feel a bit bruised.”

The sound of her laughter wrapped itself around his heart until he thought he might burst from so much happiness.

“Well, then.” He got to his feet and lifted her in
his arms. “I think if we're going for seconds, we should do it in the comfort of a bed.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her lips in his throat. Against his flesh she whispered, “What about our bet?”

He could feel the fire race straight to his loins. “Lady, with you all bets are off.”

 

“What's this?” Heather looked up when Thad entered, carrying a tray. She had slipped on his shirt, rolling the sleeves to her elbows. “I thought you were checking on Brittany.”

“I was. She's sleeping as peacefully as an angel. Whatever is in that medicine, it did the trick. There's no trace of fever.”

“That's wonderful. And this?” She indicated the tray.

“A little snack.” He set it on the night table and lifted off a napkin to reveal some wedges of cheese and slices of salami, and a chunk of sourdough rye bread, as well as two cups of steaming herbal tea.

“Umm.” She piled some cheese and salami on the bread and took a bite, then offered it to him as he climbed into bed beside her. “That's good.”

“Yeah.” He couldn't help grinning. “I figured I'd better feed you so you could keep up with me.”

“Keep up with you?” She arched a brow. “Just
what did you have in mind when we're through eating?”

“I thought I might—” he took a second bite before passing it back to her “—tear off that shirt and nibble my way from your toes to your nose.”

“Oh, my.” She touched a hand to her heart. “I'm in bed with a poet.”

“Not exactly.” He studied her over the rim of his cup. “Though I do feel poetic whenever I look at you. Like right now.” He set aside the cup and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, allowing his big hand to linger on her cheek. “I still can't believe you're here with me. I keep thinking I'll wake up and find out it's all been some wild dream.”

“If it is, then I'm dreaming, too.”

“Did you ever have one this real?”

She shook her head.

“So, you're saying it's real?”

She lifted both her hands to his face and stared up into his eyes. “This is real. Only this.” She leaned forward to touch her mouth to his.

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