Relentless (8 page)

"Absolutely.  I'd love the company, too."  He wrapped an arm around her and led her to the house.

Luke flipped on the lights as they walked inside the cabin.  A golden glow fell from the rustic chandelier and bounced off the warm log walls.  Lily was greeted again by the smell of a freshly-cleaned home, and the interior beamed with old-fashioned comfort and cheerfulness.  Luke held up his hands, giving Lily her first glimpse of the damage he'd sustained from the blast.  "I should probably clean these."

"Luke.  Oh, my God."  She took his hands and inspected them.  "Why didn't you say something?"

He tried to steal them back.  "I'm okay."

"No, you're not."  The fleshy part of both palms was raw and red.  Bits of dirt and tiny pieces of gravel were imbedded in them.  She narrowed her eyes.  "You do need medical attention."

"I'm fine."  He pulled away and headed into an adjoining room.  Lily followed him into the large, state-of-the-art kitchen.  He walked to the sink and turned on the faucet, jerking his hand back as the water touched raw skin.  "Son of a bitch." 

Lily grasped his arm, putting her weight behind her grip to hold him in place.  "You have to wash them clean, or they'll get infected.  I know it stings.  Give me your hand and don't look."

He eyed her.  "I don't need you to wash my hands for me.  I'm a big boy."

She shifted her weight onto one hip.  "It's not going to kill you to let me help you.  Besides, I could really use something to do right now."

One side of his mouth turned up in a grin, and she knew she'd won.  "I'm gonna curse."

"Doesn't bother me." 

She adjusted the temperature until it felt neutral to her wrist before she lifted his palm and ran it under the water.  Sure enough, he let go a string of curses.  She squirted a dab of soap in her hand and gently rubbed it over his raw flesh.  Rough bits of rock broke free, and she rinsed it again beneath the faucet.

She frowned when she spied a larger piece of gravel imbedded at the base of his palm.  "This might hurt."

He inspected his hand.  "Damn."  He nodded.  "Do your worst."

"I'm sorry."  She apologized in advance before she squeezed his flesh together and then slipped her nail along the edge of the tiny rock and scraped.  The invader popped free, and the vacant hole filled with blood.  "It's out, but I think I should make it bleed a little more to clean it out good."  She squeezed until a large bead of blood overflowed the hole.  Then she rinsed it again. 

She grabbed a paper towel and patted his hand dry.  "Next?" 

He switched hands, and she was happy to see this palm was not as bad as the first, with only a few minor abrasions.  She was able to quickly wash and dry it.  "Better?" she asked and glanced up. 

"Thank you."  He stared at her for an endless moment.  Jolts of energy snapped between them, but he didn't move.  She wanted to reach out and erase a smudge of dirt from his cheek, but she didn't dare. 

"Do you have a band-aid?"

"I don't need a bandage.  I need a beer."  He turned and walked around the other side of the island counter to the fridge, putting emotional and physical distance between them.  "Want one?"

"Sure."  She sighed.  "I could use a drink after this day."

He popped off two caps and carried their bottles into a corner of the great room.  He flicked a couple of switches, turning down the lights in the house and turning on a massive gas fireplace.

She took a beer and sank down on the rug in front of the fire, letting the heat from the dancing flames warm her.  "What?  No real logs?"

He dropped onto a comfy-looking sage-green couch near her, setting his hat on the table next to him.  She longed to touch his face, to ease his weariness, but that would lead to some serious complications that she wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with.

"I prefer a real fire, but with guests in and out, this is safer and cleaner."  He took a long swallow and sank farther down on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him.  "Still cold?"

"A little.  I probably should have kept my shirt, but it had so much blood on it."

He nodded.  "I still can't believe what happened.  I sure as hell hope Caroline is okay.  She's got a husband and two little kids counting on her."

"I know."  She took a drink, the cool liquid soothing her tight throat.  She hadn't realized she'd been so thirsty. 

"I could come down there and warm you up, but that might not be such a good idea.  Would you like me to get you a blanket?"

Her blood heated at his suggestion.  "I'm okay.  The fire feels good."  She shivered under his scrutiny, her nipples tingling as they tightened.  The sexual tension in the room increased tenfold, messing with her resolution to keep things friendly between them.  She dropped her gaze from his, looking at the carpet, his boots, his jeans.

She sat up straight.  "Luke?  Your pants are shredded at the knees."

"I know.  I was there when it happened."

She set her beer down and crawled over to him.  Kneeling before him, she inspected the damage.  There was nothing but strings of material crossing his knees.  "It's impossible to tell how bad you're hurt with all of the caked blood and dirt.  You need to clean this."

"It's on my list."

"But—"

He put two fingers on her lips.  "Shh."  He set his beer on the table next to his hat and leaned forward, sliding his fingers behind her ears, holding her head.  "I hope you can forgive me."  He crushed his lips against hers.

One taste of him and all thoughts of why she shouldn't be doing this evaporated.  She leaned closer, angling her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss.  Flutters of excitement built beneath her breast, leaving an ache that wouldn't be ignored.  His tongue tangled with hers in a desperate dance, as though each of them was trying to take what they could before it was too late.

He pulled away, studied her eyes before giving her two more small lingering kisses.  He sat back, leaving her breathless.

"I know I shouldn't have done that."  He licked his bottom lip as though searching for a taste of her.  Desire darkened his eyes and boiled inside her.  He stood and helped her to her feet.  When she was next to him, he cradled her face again, giving her another heated kiss.  If he didn't stop, she was sure he'd have to hold her up.

But he did stop.  "I'm sorry.  Shouldn't have done that, either, but after everything that's happened today, I'm having a hard time remembering why I should consider Hannah's feelings." He stroked a thumb down her cheek.  "But I will consider yours."  He kissed her again.  "I'm sorry.  I keep doing that.  I just don't know if I'll ever get another chance." 

He stepped away.  "I'm going to go shower and clean off the rest of this blood and grime.  You can stay if you like, but I can't promise to behave tonight if you do."  He came back for one more intense kiss and then headed for the stairs near the front of the house.

Lily watched as he appeared on the second level.  He sent her a long, searching look before he disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

She stayed where she was, staring at the closed bedroom door for several long minutes.  She desperately wanted who lay behind it.  Luke could be hers if she'd reach out and take him.  But could she betray Hannah like that?

Lily could rationalize her actions by saying Hannah had lied about Luke.  At this point, that fact was pretty obvious, even though she didn't yet know all the details.  Question was, did Hannah deserve her loyalty despite the fact?

Yes.

Lily headed toward the front door.  Hannah had been nothing but good to her, despite what she might have done to others. 

But did she and Luke have to suffer for that loyalty? 

That didn't seem right, either. 

She stopped near the stairs.  Suddenly, the world was no longer black and white like she'd always believed it to be.  Shades of gray crowded in, dulling the sharp edges of her memories and judgments. 

Up until now, she'd judged everything in terms of right and wrong.  But perhaps life wasn't always so clear cut.  Maybe people did bad things for good reasons.  Maybe the judgment of something being bad was really in the eye of the beholder.

Could she even go so far as to forgive Ethan and her sister for what they'd done?  Obviously, there had been issues between her and her fiancé, or he would have never slept with her sister.  Had she been blind to those issues?  Could she be partially to blame?  Not for the cheating, but for the breakdown in their relationship?

Possibly.

She stepped onto the first stair and looked upward.  She could be making one of the biggest mistakes of her life, trusting a man with a flawed reputation who very well might break her heart.  She'd certainly be risking her friendship with Hannah.  Then again, she could also be making one of the best decisions ever, putting her faith in a man who treated her like a treasure and was willing to risk his life for others. 

She had to go with her instincts.

She hurried up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back.  She'd made up her mind, and she would see this through, repercussions be damned.

With a certain hand, she opened the bedroom door and heard the shower running in the attached bathroom.  Her clothes seemed to fight her as she hurried to strip.  Now that she'd made up her mind, she didn't want to wait another second to touch him, to show him that she cared and trusted him.  Steamy air filled the bathroom, fogging the mirrors, making her lungs heavy.

The shower did not have a door, but instead sported two tiled walls placed to allow entrance, but also to keep the water inside.  She stepped past one wall and peeked around the corner of the other.  Luke stood with his eyes shut, his head back under the water, running his fingers through his hair.

She allowed herself a moment to appreciate every muscled, naked inch of his glorious body from his well-defined chest, down his abs, to his corded thighs.  His poor knees were red and roughed up.  He'd really taken a beating from the explosions.  Of course, there were others out there who'd suffered far worse damage, but she couldn't think about them now.

His shaft, still thick with need, stole her attention.  He wanted her, too. 

That thought was enough to propel her forward onto the wet tiles.

*        *        *

Luke startled when someone touched his chest, and he jerked open his eyes. 

"Lily," he whispered, not quite sure he wasn't hallucinating.  He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as he soaked up the sight of her body.  Breathe, he reminded himself. 

He'd known she was beautiful, but…dear God.

He cleared his throat.  "I thought you'd left."  He wiped water from his eyes to make sure she wasn't an illusion.

She shook her head.  "Do you want me to go?" 

"Hell, no."  He pulled her to him, his wet skin slippery against hers. 

She seriously could be the woman of his dreams.  A few hours ago, he was certain he'd never get the opportunity to show her how good he could be to her, and now here she was, naked in his arms.  He couldn't quite believe it.  "Are you sure about this?" 

She splayed her fingers and slowly ran them up the contours of his pecs and across his shoulders, sensation after sensation exploding across his skin.  Then she smiled up at him, and he was positive he had to be dreaming.  Maybe he'd died in the explosion, and this was heaven.

"This is where I want to be."  She slipped her fingers into his wet hair and tugged his head forward. 

He was a goner.  The second her lips touched his, he knew he couldn't turn back.  He kissed her hard, demanding that
something
that had been missing in his life for so long.

He turned, moving them under the spray of warm water, cupping her bottom and hauling her against him.  She fit him perfectly.  Streams of hot water rushed over her shoulders and breasts and pelted his hands where he held her to him.

She tilted her head back into the stream and lifted her hands, pushing her wet hair out of her face.  Luke ran his hands down her sides to her waist and then up her stomach.  He hadn't thought he could get harder than he was, but the feel of her soft, slippery skin beneath his fingers left him with an aching, burning need to bury himself inside her.

He cupped her breasts, holding the weight of them in his palms, running his thumbs across her nipples.  She arched her back, inviting him closer.

He dipped his head, sucking a sweet nipple into his mouth, and reveled in the shiver that enveloped her.  She dug her fingers into his wet hair and held him there.  He'd be happy if she never let him go.

He'd wanted this girl from the moment he'd first met her.  He'd wanted to touch her and hold her.  Now, he was, and it was more exquisite than anything he'd pictured.

He lifted his head, finding her staring at him with eyes the color of midnight.  She parted her lips, her breasts heaving.  "Luke," she whispered. 

Damn.  He'd never hear his name again without thinking of her. 

He traced a water drop down her cheek.  She turned her face, catching his finger with her teeth, drawing him inside her mouth and sucking.  Shit.  If he got any harder, he'd blow here and now. 

He removed his finger and kissed her, unable to stop her slow teasing from taking the sharp turn into hot and explosive.