Renegade (23 page)

“Do you still…think about her?” Tippy asked, having avoided the question she wanted most to ask him—if he still loved the woman.

“Sometimes,” he confessed, and he smiled at her. “But not with pleasure or any lingering desire. I feel as if I had a lucky escape.”

She smiled back at him, relieved. “How did you end up in Jacobsville?”

“I couldn't settle down as a Ranger, so I applied for the only job going at the Houston D.A.'s office, as a cybercrime expert. I'd had a lot of experience as a hacker while I was doing those odd jobs for military entities.” He shook his head. “But it didn't work out. I was even more of an outsider there. I didn't seem to be able to fit in anywhere. My reputation followed me around.”

He looked down at her with a faint smile before he continued. “I was forever running into men who knew me. They exaggerated some of the things I'd done, and the fact that I kept to myself made it all the more believable.” His thumb stroked her long fingernails absently. “Just when I thought I might reenlist in the army, my cousin Chet came to see me in Houston and asked if I'd be interested in a job as assistant police chief here in Jacobsville. That was before Ben Brady became acting mayor, or I'd never have been hired. But the then-mayor and the city council voted me in unanimously, with Chet's approval. I've been here ever since.”

“No hankering to leave and go back to the wild life?” she queried softly.

“Some,” he had to admit. He looked down at her in his arms, so beautiful, so warm and soft-skinned. He felt a lump in his throat. “Until just recently,” he added in a deep, husky tone.

Her eyes glistened. “Why?”

He shrugged, glancing at her slender hand pressing into his shirtfront while he caressed her hand. “I don't know. My life has changed since you and Rory came into it, especially since you both came to Jacobsville. I feel as if I'm part of a family, for the first time in my life.”

She didn't usually cry. But she was still feeling fragile from
the afternoon's ordeal, and the words knocked the breath out of her. Did he mean what she thought he did?

He saw the tears overflowing her eyes, making wet paths down her cheeks. He scowled. “What's wrong?”

“That's how I feel,” she confessed. “And Rory, too.”

He felt light-headed and smiled absently. “Do you?”

She nodded.

He hugged her close and bent to kiss her. It was the most tender caress she'd had in her life. She returned it, with the same tenderness.

He closed his eyes. He felt as if he'd come home. She rested her cheek on his chest and listened to his heart beat.

Rory peeked in the door. “Oops! Sorry…!”

Cash laughed. “Come back here,” he said. Tippy sat up, her eyes a little red, but still smiling. “What is it?” Cash asked.

Rory wiggled both eyebrows. “There's an old Bela Lugosi vampire movie on…”

“Vampire movie,” Cash exclaimed, almost dumping poor Tippy as he got to his feet. “Sorry, baby,” he said gently, “but I'm a Bela Lugosi fanatic…”

Tippy's lips fell open. “You are?” she exclaimed. “Really?”

“They're her favorites,” Rory interjected.

They exchanged quick glances. “Popcorn?” Cash asked hopefully.

“Microwave,” she agreed and ran to put it on. The day, so stressful, had become magic. Tippy knew some where deep down that she and Cash had a future. She'd never been so certain of anything. She looked at him as he went into the living room with Rory, one arm around the boy's shoulder. He paused just long enough to look back at her and wink. The walls were coming down, she thought.

 

T
IPPY HAD THOUGHT
that her unsought fame as a frying-pan wielder would be a one-day wonder. But the furor didn't die down, and two days later, a tabloid broke the story of Tippy's hand-to-frying-pan fight with the third kidnapper, who'd been arrested and carried back to New York City by two federal marshals who were still laughing when they drove away.

But the story was a great deal more intimate than Tippy had expected. A local physician, Dr. Lou Coltrain, had stated for the record that Miss Moore had lost her child through the cruel actions of a nameless assistant director on the film she was currently working on. Col train had asserted that Tippy's agony at the loss was punctuated. Joel Harper had been called as well to contribute to the story. Harper told the tabloid that Miss Moore was so important to the film that they refused to resume shooting until she was completely well. Further more, Mr. Harper added, he was already having the script altered to reflect her innovative frying-pan defense against a fictional intruder in the movie. Even the wire services picked up the story, because it was in the Jacobsville paper as well as the Houston and San Antonio papers.

There was one last comment, from Jacobsville's police chief Cash Grier, that he and Miss Moore were to be married within the month.

T
IPPY COULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT
she was reading. Cash couldn't mean a real marriage. Not after he'd said so many times that he'd never remarry. Shocked, she sat down with the tabloid in her hands and reread the whole story.

“Your third kidnapper is safely locked away until the trial,” Cash told her, his hands deep in his pockets. “But your reputation has taken some heat because of that assistant director. I've had a long talk with some people I know. There won't be any more attempts at character assassination from that quarter, at least. Dr. Lou Coltrain and I cooked up this story to repair the damage.”

“Isn't it a little…drastic?” she wondered aloud.

“What? Blacklisting that arrogant little pipsqueak who worked for Joel Harper?” he wondered aloud.

“No! Thank you for that,” she said, diverted. “I was think
ing about the engagement…and this says,” she added, reading the smaller print, “that we're getting married immediately!”

His dark eyes met hers. “We don't have any more secrets between us. I know all about you. And you know all about me. I have job security and money in several foreign banks. But even if I didn't, I've got a strong back and I'm not afraid of hard work. I can pull my half of the financial responsibilities. Rory can stay with us, unless he's overly keen on spending the next eight years in a military school.”

She could hardly get her breath. “I must be asleep,” she whispered.

“Dreaming, or having a nightmare?” he wondered aloud.

“Definitely dreaming,” she whispered, her cheeks just faintly flushed as she looked at him with ardent pleasure. “I can't believe it!”

He relaxed. The look on her face, ardent and surprised and joyful, made him feel warm all over. He smiled. “Want me to go down on one knee? Or is that your role? Got a ring for me, yet?”

She faltered, until she remembered the byplay about her courting him over the past few weeks. “I didn't think you wanted one,” she hedged.

“In that case, you'll have to go shopping. But for the time being…”

He moved forward, dug in his pocket and pulled out a black jeweler's box. He opened it. Inside were an emerald solitaire surrounded by diamonds and a matching band mingling emeralds and diamonds in yellow gold. “One more thing,” he added, producing a marriage license. “I've already had my blood test, and I got the results of the blood test that Lou Coltrain did when she checked you over with the specialist
from San Antonio who flew down for your follow-up exam last week.”

“I still can't understand how you got him to come to me,” she said absently.

“He and Micah Steele are old friends,” he said with out adding anything else. “So we have a marriage license and a date with the probate judge day after tomorrow,” he said smugly. “All you have to do is say yes. I'll take care of everything else.”

She just stared at the marriage license and the rings blankly, her heart thundering in her chest. She reached out and touched the rings blindly. “I never even dared to hope that this might happen,” she whispered, looking up at him with her heart in her eyes.

He bent and kissed her tenderly, his lips lingering on hers. His heart raced wildly. He kissed her again. “You know everything about me,” he whispered huskily, “and you didn't run. Could I risk losing a woman who not only is willing to take me as I am, but also a woman who can lay out an armed criminal with an iron skillet? You're a living legend already!”

She chuckled warmly, reaching up to hold him close. “I'll take care of you all my life,” she whispered tenderly.

He flushed a little. “That was my line.”

“We'll take care of each other, then,” she murmured, drawing his face down. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but he hadn't mentioned love. She was too insecure to start blurting out her feelings just yet. “Are you sure?” she added solemnly.

“I'm sure.” He drew her up against him, wrapped her tight to his hard body, and kissed her with a breathless passion that made her knees buckle. “Glory!” he breathed, before he deepened the kiss and backed her up against the kitchen table. “Tippy…!”

Incredibly, she was on her back among the remains of lunch, with Cash bearing her down hungrily.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed with her last sane breath.

“Guess,” he ground out against her warm mouth.

She felt fabric give and fastenings snap open. She was trying gamely to marshal her reason. Someone might walk in the door. Rory might come home. The house might be bugged….

Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids as she felt him impale her. Her eyes opened wide and looked straight up into his. She gasped at the deep, fierce movement of his hips. He was watching her face. His eyes were narrow, blazing with desire. His hands were under her back, holding her, while his body moved in and took full possession of her.

She didn't have enough breath to question what was happening. She was incandescent with pleasure. Her legs opened wider to admit him. Her hips lifted in a shivering arch to meet with his.

It had been so long since he'd touched her with intent. She ached for him. Her face mirrored her rapt delight, her body followed every quick, sharp movement. She was climbing up into the sky. Her body was ablaze with life, with pleasure.

“I must be…out of my mind!” he bit off, and then he groaned as pleasure sliced into him like a knife. “Oh…God… Tippy! I need you…!”

“I need you, too,” she gasped. “So much, Cash, so much, so much!”

“Show me, baby,” he breathed, brushing her mouth with his as the movement of his body became insistent, urgent, desperate. “Show me.”

Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. When she had it open, over a mat of thick black hair and warm muscle,
she jerked up her own blouse and bra and lifted to rub her breasts against his chest.

He groaned harshly. His eyes bit into hers as he drove for fulfillment blindly. The rasp of his breath mingled with the sharp little moans pulsing out of her tight throat.

“Oh…please,” she ground out, shivering now with every quick motion of his hips. “Please, please…!”

His eyes closed as he went still above her for a second and then drove downward with the last of his strength. He sailed off over a precipice, gasped, and began to shudder rhythmically as he moaned hoarsely at her ear.

She was pulsing with him, drowning in the silky pleasure that washed over her like a throbbing wave of heat. She was making high-pitched little noises, her nails biting wildly into his back as she surrendered completely to his possession.

“I can feel you,” she sobbed. “I can feel you, inside me…”

He groaned again as the words enhanced his pleasure. “You're part of me,” he breathed. “And I'm part of you. You're so soft, baby. Soft and warm, like a cocoon around me. It's never been like this.”

“Not for me, either,” she whispered back, clinging to him in the silky aftermath. “Not even our first time together.”

It occurred to him suddenly that he was the only man she'd really had. Her only early experience of sex had been terrifying, painful. But she loved being with him. He could hear it in her soft voice. He could feel it in her exquisite body.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, shivering.

“Don't you know?” he teased.

“I can't…think.”

“That's reassuring,” he whispered with a wicked laugh. He lifted his head and looked into her misty eyes. “I was thinking that I'm the only lover you've ever had.”

She hesitated. Her face was troubled.

“Rape doesn't count,” he reminded her, and his eyes were loving.

“It doesn't?” she asked curiously. “Honestly?”

He nibbled her upper lip. “It's like grand theft, what Stanton did to you. But it wasn't sexual, not to him. Men who rape women are after control, not pleasure.” He kissed her again. “Why don't you know that?”

“There was one man I dated, years ago,” she began. “He thought it made me dirty. He said he couldn't have touched me after that.”

“It wouldn't matter to me if you'd had half a dozen men, as long as I'm the last one,” he mused gently. “Didn't you know?”

That was when she knew he felt something more than desire for her. His eyes were dark and warm with feeling, with tenderness. She reached up and caressed his cheek, his mouth, with possessive fingers.

“I adore you,” she whispered huskily.

He caught her fingers and kissed them. “Same here.” He lifted his head and looked down at her. His eyebrows arched. “I can't believe I did this.”

She smiled mischievously. “I can.”

He laughed as he got to his feet and pulled her up with him, slowly replacing clothing, fastening openings, in a silence rapt with delight and amusement.

“At least nobody decided to pay us a visit,” she murmured, looking at the ruins of lunch on the table. Her hair felt odd. She reached behind her head and came back with mashed potatoes and a green bean.

“Oh, dear,” she said.

Cash roared. “You look delicious, darling,” he told her. He wiggled his eyebrows. “If you'd like to roll around in
some more of those potatoes, I can lick them off for you,” he suggested.

She hit him. “You stop that. This is no way to begin a marriage.”

“Sure it is,” he said. “Food is the foundation of many a relationship. You do look good in mashed potatoes and green beans.”

“Keep it up, and I'll decorate you in coffee grounds,” she teased.

He laughed, bending to kiss her warmly. “I didn't use anything,” he said quietly, sobering.

She smiled lazily. “I know. It doesn't matter.”

His eyes brightened and he smiled back.

“When and where are we getting married?” she wanted to know.

“Day after tomorrow at the county courthouse. Judd and Crissy are going to be our witnesses.”

“That's nice of them,” she said with genuine appreciation.

“It is, isn't it?” He filled his eyes with her. “This is going to be the longest two days of my life.” He meant it, too.

 

T
HEY WERE MARRIED EARLY
in the morning. Tippy wore her green silk pantsuit and carried a bouquet of yellow roses. Cash wore a suit. Judd, Crissy and Rory stood with them as witnesses, and the probate judge grinned as she pronounced them man and wife.

Rory hugged them both, fighting tears. “This is the best day of my life,” he told them.

“It's one of my best ones, too,” Cash said, and for once he didn't get cold feet about commitment. He was thanking his lucky stars that Tippy was his, at last. She looked as if she felt
exactly the same. But she was worried about something. He could tell.

Later, he asked her, after they had lunch with the Dunns and Rory at a local restaurant.

“I don't know,” she told him honestly. “But it's some thing bad. I'm sorry,” she added quickly. “I didn't want to spoil our wedding day.”

“You haven't. I'm getting used to these feelings of yours,” he had to admit. “But tonight, Rory's staying with Judd and Crissy, and you and I are going to have the sort of wedding night people dream about. Bad feelings or not.”

She smiled tenderly. “I can't wait!” she whispered.

He chuckled. “That makes two of us.”

 

I
T WAS A LONG AND PASSIONATE
night. Cash had incredible stamina. She'd never even read about some of the pleasures he introduced her to during the long night.

“Where did you learn
that?
” she exclaimed, gasping as she lay under him, with one of his long, powerful legs curled in between both of hers while he possessed her.

“Arnie,” he murmured, one lean hand going to her thigh to position her again.

Her eyes widened. “Arnie?!”

He laughed. His mouth went to her throat and pressed into it, hot and ardent, his tongue touching the hollow where her pulse was visible. “Arnie was my buddy in boot camp. He knew more about women than a producer of X-rated movies,” he murmured. “He had books, he had videotapes, he had magazines…everything necessary to make an expert of a novice.”

“Yes, but practice…makes perfect,” she gasped.

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured wickedly, nipping her shoulder with his teeth. “But good sex is a thing of the mind and
heart as well as the body. With someone you barely know, it's a minor amusement.”

“And with me?” she prodded.

He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. “With you, it's almost sacred,” he whispered.

Her lips parted and tears filled her eyes.

“Don't do that,” he said, kissing the wetness away.

“I can't help it. That's how I feel, too, when I'm with you.” She kissed his chest hungrily. “Every time is the first time. I ache just looking at you.”

His mouth slid up to caress her lower lip. He nibbled it with his teeth while his body moved into a new, slower rhythm. His breath was coming fast and hard, like her own. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his teeth clenching with every powerful movement of his body against her.

Her nails bit into his upper arms, contracting with every stab of pleasure. She moaned huskily, moving under him convulsively.

“Yes,” he whispered gruffly. “That's it. Do that again. Move with me.”

“You like it?” she breathed.

“I love it,” he growled. “You're magic. You burn me up inside. I love the way it feels when I have you.”

She smiled and arched under him, enticing him, and her hands moved slowly, shyly, down below his waist. She searched his eyes, hesitating.

“Go ahead,” he coaxed. “Do anything you like.”

“You don't mind?”

He laughed through his need. “No, I don't mind,” he chuckled. “Come on, chicken. Touch me.”