Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (17 page)

To distract herself, she cut her remaining steak in half, transferring the thicker piece to his plate. She would never eat all that.

“If you expect me to politely object, you’re in for a rude awakening.” Razor swiped a rogue drop from the corner of his lips. He popped his thumb into his mouth to suck it clean. While she sat entranced, he started in on her addition. “And if you don’t finish all yours by the time I’m through here, I’m likely to beg for more. Remember, no manners.”

In the end, she had him polish off several more bites. Mostly so she could feast on the action of his throat as he savored each morsel. They passed the bottle back and forth between them as they joked about trivial things, enjoying each other’s company. Any time a hint of unease snuck into her thoughts, Razor distracted her with some silly comment or another of his endless questions.

When she raised the bottle and nothing came out, she peered into the bone-dry depths.

“Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“I think I broke another
fucking
rule.” She laughed at her own joke, but not as hard as Razor did.

“Let me guess…women aren’t supposed to get hammered?”

“More like, a true lady shall never become intoxicated in public. One glass of wine per event shall suffice.” She stuck her nose in the air as she preached in her best imitation of her etiquette instructor while he deposited their dishes in the sink.

“Good thing we’re somewhere private, huh?”

She blinked into the tawny eyes closing in on her when Razor returned, teasing her in his official cop voice.

“’Cause I think you’re about three times over the snooty limit, ma’am.”

She giggled at him, loose enough to dance on the table. A yawn surprised her, distorting her chuckle into an odd noise that inspired her to laugh harder.

“Time for bed, Izzy.”

Chapter Twelve

Razor’s pronouncement would have panicked her if she could have thought a little more clearly.

“Couch looks comfy,” she mumbled.

“It is, but you won’t be testing it out tonight. I’d like you with me. Close by.”

His declaration guaranteed some fabulous dreams. “Okay.”

“No, don’t
okay
me. What do you want? You can tell me to go to hell. Matt’s covering the front. Clint’s at the rear. You’d be safe here.”

She should have snatched the out and relegated their attraction to a place she could handle. But some of his impulsiveness had rubbed off. If tonight was her only chance, she had to grab it. “I
want
to sleep with you. I mean…”

“I know what you mean, princess.” He lifted her from the rug. “It’s what I had in mind too.”

Isabella tucked her legs around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the pulsing in her core where she rode him as he walked them into his bedroom. The limited space, decorated in various hues of blue and grey, seemed cozy and intimate.

Razor balanced her on one hip while he fluffed the covers. Then he tucked her beneath them. She burrowed into the worn cotton sheets and the imperfect pillows until they’d conformed to her shape. Everything smelled of him. Scrumptious. She glanced up with one eye to see him observing her from where he stood, on the opposite side of the bed.

“Change your mind? Should I go?” Isabella began to push up though her entire body protested abandoning the nest she’d made.

“No. No, you’re good there.” He sank onto the mattress—half the size of the monstrosity she’d shared with Malcolm, which had resulted in an acre of lonely distance between her and her soon-to-be-ex. The warp in this cozy pad shifted her toward Razor. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re for real. That’s all.”

His hand cupped her shoulder, steadying her as he went horizontal.

“Sorry, this was my brother Andy’s bed. Been handed down a bunch of other times I think. It likes to suck you into the center.” He flashed a sheepish smile.

She didn’t intend to complain.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to have a brother or sister.” She imagined an older version of Razor and shivered. With a couple years to flesh out the remnants of his boyish charm, his dashing good looks would refine. He’d turn into more of a heartbreaker than he must already be.

“It’s great and a pain in the ass all at the same time. I have three brothers, two sisters, a bunch of cousins and an assortment of nieces and nephews. I’m the youngest of my siblings. By the time I came around, I was pretty much left to do as I pleased.” His devilish grin had her imagining him running amok and loving every second of it. He flopped over to stare at the ceiling. “I miss them like hell. This was the first year I couldn’t make it home for Christmas. They thought about coming out here, but Mary had another baby two weeks before and my grandparents aren’t up to the flight. I couldn’t stand for them to split up because of my stupid mistakes.”

Isabella could have blamed the sag for tugging her closer to his side. What sense was there in that? She nestled into the crook of his arm, laying her cheek on his chest. The steady beat of his heart echoed in the stillness of the night. Her fingers traced a soothing path along one of his scars through the thin material of his faded T-shirt.

“It’s not your fault…”

“I’m
so
tired of hearing that shit, Izzy.”

“Let me finish. I understand what it’s like to be blindsided by someone you trust. No matter how much physical agony you’ve endured at their hands, it’s the indignity that stings most. Despite what anyone says, you keep replaying things in your mind, wondering if you missed a clue. If you’d looked a bit harder maybe you would have seen it. How many other people knew what you were oblivious to all along? It’s infuriating. And mortifying.”

He shifted, rolling her to her back while he levered onto his elbow to peer into her eyes. “That’s exactly it. How do you know? What did that fucker use you for?”

His fingers buried in her hair as he held on, bonded by their shared experience.

“Money, I think.” She gulped. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. Greed’s the only thing that makes sense. Talk about humiliating. It’s not as if he’s Leo, needing the cash to survive. Malcolm has piles and piles to swim in if the mood strikes.”

Her gaze flicked over Razor’s torso to avoid looking into his eyes. He lay so immobile she thought he might have stopped breathing. She should have shut her mouth and gone to bed, but for once, she didn’t feel so damn alone. In the morning, she’d try to believe the alcohol had spoken for her. It’d be another lie. At this point, what was one more?

“See, growing up, Malcolm always hung around. He was my father’s protégé in their business dealings. After my mother died, he acted like a friend to me. Nothing more. A lot of times I felt like Rapunzel locked in the tower. He broke the monotony, the isolation.

“No other kids stayed in the main house where I lived. I had no one to play with, no one really to talk to. Unless my father trotted me out for show like one of the thoroughbreds at a social event where I had to make him shine, no matter the cost.” She closed her eyes when Razor skimmed his fingertips over her brows and cheeks.

“Malcolm never looked through me. Even when other associates buzzed around, he’d take time to say hello. Really talk. Or at least that’s what I thought. Now I wonder if he ever cared or if he planned, all along, to own me someday. When I turned eighteen, someone might as well have flipped a switch. He asked me on a date the same evening. He’d never shown any interest, not a hint of anything more than companionship.”

She drew in a shuddering breath filled with the clean scent of Razor. He hovered over her, petting her hair, kissing away the tears dampening her cheeks. “Self-control isn’t his strong suit. I should have known.”

“You were so young. Sheltered. Innocent.”

“Don’t bother making excuses, James. You know as well as I, they don’t help.”

“Son of a bitch. This is different…”

“It’s not.” She covered his lips with her fingers. Instead of arguing, he nibbled them, offering something better than rational debate: healing, soothing heat.

“I thought he’d waited until I had matured. He seemed proper, formal. Now I think he scrambled for any excuse to avoid touching me. I mean, I asked him to…experiment…” Isabella grimaced when she couldn’t spit it out. Razor understood.

“I lost my virginity on my first date with Sue Ellen Diamblo in the backseat of my brother’s Mustang when I was sixteen.” He grinned. “You don’t have to hedge with me, Izzy. I’ll never judge.”

“Malcolm turned me down flat. Said we should wait. That a lady never has sex before her wedding night.”

She thought she heard a muttered, “Stupid bastard.”

“He rushed, preparing for the big day as soon as manners would permit. I assumed he was as eager as me to start the new phase of our life. During the wedding planning, he said all the right things—how beautiful I looked, that he didn’t deserve me. Did all the right things.” When she tried to avert her face from Razor, he cupped her jaw in his hand, holding her in place.

“Your shame is wasted around me, princess.” Gentle kisses stole her breath and her doubt, erasing her embarrassment. “Hell, I let some crazy bitch shoot me point blank after she’d admitted to attempting a hit on Lacey. Let’s call it even, huh?”

He rubbed their noses together and would have sealed their lips, but she had to finish. Each word lightened the load about to crush her. “You don’t understand. On our wedding night, I practically assaulted him. In the beginning, things seemed normal. He reacted…or tried. But when I laid, passive, on the enormous canopy bed in the presidential suite of our honeymoon hotel, waiting for him to take charge, he turned cold. I didn’t know a lot. I tried…”

“To seduce him?”

She winced and nodded. “I stripped for him into the ivory lace lingerie I had special ordered from Paris. I’d heard several of the maids talking about how their boyfriends loved it when they put their…you know, in their mouths. I would have attempted it—”

Razor growled from beside her. She couldn’t restrain the tide of confusion and raw emotion now that she’d started the telling.

“The moment I knelt at his feet, he freaked. He screamed at me to stand up, never to do it again. He threw the vase with my bouquet to the floor. I remember watching the red rose petals scatter, mixing with several droplets of blood, which oozed from a slice in his thigh. He’d cut himself on the shards. I felt so betrayed after dreaming about our wedding night for years. I’m not proud of this…I lost it. I slapped him. Hard. Quick as that, he came over to me. He ripped those panties I adored and his tux. I begged to see him, to take our time. He knocked my hands aside and mounted me instead.”

“He hurt you.” Razor’s breath buffeted her cheek as he blew out huge bursts of air.

“No, he didn’t. Not at all.” She gazed deep into his eyes as she promised. That truth was the best she could offer. “I couldn’t even tell if he was inside me.”

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.

“He rolled over, yanked me on top of him then ground himself against me. I grabbed his shoulders to keep from flying off. My nails gouged him. He shouted and moaned. In less than fifteen seconds the whole disaster was finished.”

“Jesus Christ, Izzy.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it.” She’d started trembling as she always did when she remembered the dead silence that had rung in her ears while she waited for Malcolm to fall asleep so she could escape.

Razor gathered her into his arms, rocking her against his chest.

“I froze, taking shallow breaths until I heard his snores. I thought about running. I think I was in shock. Plus, where would I go? I’d never been on my own before. I looked down and noticed his…”

“His cock.”

“Yeah, except…he’s tiny. Abnormal. It’s not his fault. He was born that way. It obviously affects him deeply. He hadn’t had the courage to tell me before I’d sworn my soul to him, ’til death do us part.

“How could I leave him to suffer alone? He’d been there for me when I needed a friend. The only person who bothered to talk to me like a human being instead of an expensive decoration needed someone on his side. Together, we could work it out. At least that’s what I chanted while I cried myself to sleep.”

“Ah, shit.” Razor’s fingers tightened on her. “You’re too damn sweet for your own good.”

“The next morning he apologized. He told me he’d always had issues. I asked if there were other ways we could both reach satisfaction. He said it was impossible for me to please him. He’d understand if I took a lover as long as I was discreet. Malcolm wouldn’t tolerate my affairs reflecting on him or my dad and their new joint ventures.” She caught the sob before it escaped. “He swore he’d never touch me again. He hoped we could remain
civil
. I knew, right then and there, he’d never loved me at all. He’d negotiated a merger, nothing more.”

“And despite it all, you stayed for two years. Because you care for him.”

“I guess. I gave my word in front of all those people.” She nodded. “There were times I’d think our friendship mended and grew. He seemed ready to open up. I’d start to hope. Then he’d turn cold, mean and reclusive. Sometimes he disappeared for days on end. I should have left him at the beginning. I guess I was scared. Unprepared. A little spoiled, too. The idea of roughing it frightened me.”

“So why now, Izzy? What happened? Why did he hurt you?” The fingers of one of his strong hands clenched her hip where he’d glimpsed the marks on her earlier. “Why is he chasing you?”

His sincere questions shattered the illusion of boundaries in their midnight confessional. History had led them right around to the present. A present she couldn’t divulge.

She shrugged.

He didn’t push.

She’d fantasized about discovering one special man to share everything with. It could so easily be this man. But—no matter how much she’d spilled—if she went any further, she’d trade her unburdened soul for his safety.

Isabella couldn’t transact such an unfair exchange.

In her marriage, she’d chosen to stick it out, hoping to heal the friend her husband had been before everything went to hell. She’d never had a chance.
Her
mistake.