Snapped (11 page)

"None."

"Only child? Should have known. Fearless."

"Or just plain stupid. So my mother
tells me. She wishes I'd get a different career."

"Does your father agree?"

She concentrated on patting Oscar. "He
doesn't get a say in what I do. Not since he left when I was ten."

"Oh. Sorry."

She shrugged. "No big deal." It
wasn't. The fact that he wanted to get in touch now was a different story. "So
what about you? I can't imagine you coming from a dysfunctional family."

Silence. "My parents are still
married."

So why the hesitation? "You?"

"What about me?"

"Married?"

He toyed with the bottle, rolling it
between his two large hands. "Was." He glanced at her then away. "It
ended a few months ago. I moved to Morethorn to get away from the ...
memories."

There was that hint of vulnerability
again—in the slight pause, the way his voice almost cracked on
memories
.
It caught her by surprise this time, but affected her just as much. She sidled
along the couch, wanting to get closer. He didn't move away so she scored a
small victory for her side.

"But," he said, "I love it
here, so I can't complain."

"Really? My best friend moved to Stanton
and she says she loves it up there."

"You miss her."

Her gaze connected with his. "Yeah. I
do. No one knows me the way she does."

Nick wanted to hold her. Lucy sounded so
lonely, so lost without her best friend. Apart from her mother, there was no
one to share her life with in Morethorn anymore. No boyfriend, no siblings. It
tore at him. Most of his family and friends were still in Stanton but two of
his sisters lived here and he was in regular contact with the guys up in Stanton.

And he'd had Donna, even if only for a
while. That was over of course, but he knew what it was like to be in a
committed relationship, telling your secrets, your dreams to another person. He
missed that, and he wouldn't swap it for anything.

Lucy had never experienced that intimacy.
She probably didn't even know that her life lacked it. Subconsciously she
looked for it with men, any men, not realizing that merely sexual intimacy
wasn't enough. It never would be for such a passionate woman as her.

But try telling her that. Try telling her
that sleeping around wasn't going to break the cycle of loneliness. She
wouldn't listen. The only way he could show her there was more to life than sex
was to not give in to his powerful urges. She needed someone to respect her,
not use her like all the others.

He was definitely going to be the man to
do it. If only she wouldn't get any closer. He could keep his head when she was
at the other side of the couch and when she kept her clothes on. If she shed
the sweater again ... well, he was only a man.

And next time she asked him to rub Aloe
Vera all over her naked body, he was going to flatly refuse. That had been a
close call. Way too close.

He stood and went into the kitchen and
pulled out another beer from the fridge. He sat back in the chair instead of
the couch and drank. Too quickly. It went straight to his head. He wasn't used
to drinking. Since he'd become a cop, he'd been more careful about how much he
drank. But tonight he'd had two and a half in fifteen minutes. And it was
getting to him.

"What are you doing all the way over
there?" She pouted, her juicy bottom lip dropping ever so slightly.

"Just giving you and Oscar room to
stretch out."

"Liar." She grinned the
wickedest grin he'd ever seen on a woman.

He swallowed. He was a goner. "Okay.
You make me nervous."

"Me?" She looked down at Oscar
lying content in her lap. Lucky cat. "But I'm so small, how could I make
someone like you nervous?"

"Because,"
careful Dante
,
"because I don't want a repeat performance of earlier."

"Why not?" She pressed her
tongue to her top lip, licked. "I rather enjoyed it."

So did I. Too much
. "I noticed. But I
already told you, I'm not like that, Lucy." He stood, picked up the three
empty bottles, placed them in the trash in the kitchen and joined her again in
the living room. "I'm beat. Good night."

"Going to bed already?"

"Yes, and so should you. You must be
exhausted after everything you've been through today."

She was tough, that's for sure. The
accident hadn't slowed her down. Of course, once the painkillers wore off, she
might not be inclined to clean the house from floor to ceiling again.

She picked up Oscar and followed Nick
into the hallway, stopping outside his bedroom door. He cocked his head to one
side and frowned. What was she waiting for? And did she have to look at him
like he was made of chocolate?

He got his answer in the form of a kiss. She
stood on her toes to deliver it. Just a light touch, not the fierce passion of
the one on the couch earlier. But it was enough to make the sensitive skin of
his lips tingle, crave for more.

She dropped back and lifted Oscar's paw. "Goodnight,
Nick." Oscar's paw waved at him but the cat only blinked.

She left and he closed his bedroom door. No
lock. Damn. He sank onto the bed, his head spinning. He'd survived. Nothing had
happened—his erection didn't count because that rose to the occasion whenever
she was near. He blew out a breath and closed his eyes.

So why did he feel so empty?

***

Lucy tossed in bed, disturbing Oscar who
wanted to curl up against her back. Eventually he gave up ungraciously and
moved to her feet then tucked himself into a ball and went to sleep. She wished
she could sleep that easily. But with her libido in overdrive, she wasn't
getting any soon.

She'd had such plans for the evening too.
After three beers, he'd been primed, but she just couldn't think of any
reasonable excuse to jump into bed with him. She could think of a lot of
unreasonable ones, but Nick wouldn't fall for them, despite the three beers
muddling his thoughts.

Damn. She used to be the queen of
come-ons. In the past, she'd never needed an excuse to haul a man into bed,
she'd just done it and he'd followed. Nick Dante was different.

And so was she.

She flipped over again, careful not to
knock the bruise on her chest, and sighed into the pillow.

Hours later, she awoke with a start. A
noise? But Oscar hadn't lifted his head and usually anything louder than a
buzzing insect woke him. She flopped back down. Great. Now she was awake again,
and horny as hell. She'd had the Roman bath dream again, the one where six
gorgeous male slaves oiled her naked body. Maybe that's what had woken her—too
many hormones racing around her body.

At least it hadn't been someone trying to
get into the house. The thought that someone was after her scared the hell out
of her. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone. Today's accident had brought
the reality of the situation home and she was glad the safe house had been
offered. If just for a while until she was back on her feet and could take care
of herself again. For now, with her sore ribs and aching head, she was glad
Nick was sleeping in the next room. Although having him in the same room would
be better.

In the same bed would be heaven.

An idea occurred to her about how that
could be achieved. She got out of bed and stepped into her slippers. The house
was freezing since they'd turned the central heating off when they went to bed
and the pajama shorts and T-shirt didn't offer much warmth. She went into
Nick's room.

He was asleep. Moonlight streaming
through the crack in the curtains fell across his square jaw and made his
lashes look impossibly long from the shadows cast high on his cheek. His lay on
his side, his right arm on top of the covers. He was naked, at least from the
waist up. Apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest he made no other
movement. Lucy sighed at so much masculine beauty in one body. A body made for
sinning but ruled by a head too stubborn to listen.

She knelt on the empty side of the double
bed and reached for the cover to pull it back. His eyes sprang open and his
hand darted out and grabbed hers tightly. She yelped, caught by surprise by his
sudden movement and the hard grip.

"Lucy!" He let go. "What
are you doing?" He sat up and rubbed fingers into his eyes. When his hand
dropped he blinked at her as if realizing she wasn't a dream. His gaze slipped
from her face to her nipples, beaded under the T-shirt from the cold. He made a
choking sound deep in his throat.

"I heard a noise and..."
Come
on, Lucy, you can admit it.
"I got scared."

His gaze lifted again and he frowned. "
You
got scared?"

"It's been known to happen. And
someone is trying to kill me, or have you forgotten."

He pushed the covers off. Damn, only
naked from the waist up. Better than nothing and still a great view. "I'll
check it out."

She placed a hand on his arm to stop him
and her fingers involuntarily curled around the flesh and muscle. "I
already did. No one there."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. I can't sleep now. I keep
expecting to hear something. I thought that maybe if I slept in here with you,
I might relax."

He stared at her as if she'd told him to
jump off a bridge. "Together? In bed?"

She nodded and lifted the covers. The
sheets smelled of Nick and she snuggled into them. "It's okay, I won't try
anything."

"Yes, you will."

She shrugged, closed her eyes, and waited
for him to realize it was useless to argue. Until then, she would just lie
there and soak in his semi-naked presence.

"Look, I know what you're trying to
do, Lucy, and it won't work."

"Then there's nothing to worry
about. Now get into bed. It's cold out there."

"I noticed," he muttered. He
sank back down but stayed as far away from her as possible.

Despite the distance, she could feel how
rigid his body was. How much of him was rigid, she didn't know exactly but she
planned on finding out before dawn.

She closed her eyes and pretended to
sleep. Just as well she was too wired, because she planned on seducing this man
and sleeping wasn't going to help. She counted on him being too wound up too.

A while later she opened her eyes again. Either
he sensed it or he'd been watching her because he was looking at her.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Not yet." His voice was husky.
Had he been thinking about her? Was he still disturbed by their close
proximity, the way she was?

She itched to reach over and find out. Every
nerve ending screamed to touch him, run her hand along the hard muscles, across
soft skin and down to his cock. He'd be hard. She knew that like she knew she
was breathing too fast. But she had to keep her hands to herself, for now.

Later, she'd get to find out whether he
was completely naked under the sheets.

CHAPTER
8

Nick was in agony. His groin ached. He
felt dizzy. All the little hairs on his arms stood on end in anticipation. And
she expected him to sleep? The woman was a nut case. A very gorgeous,
intoxicating nut case that was driving
him
crazy. How was he supposed to
sleep with her nipples just inches away? He'd been sucking them in his dreams
just before she came in, making him hard. Now she was in bed with him, the
smell of jasmine and desire everywhere, and he'd grown even harder.

"I can't sleep either." Lucy
half-smiled. "Let's talk."

"This isn't a slumber party." His
voice was too raspy. She must know he wanted her, bad.

"Come on," she said,
"it'll be fun. We'll swap fantasies. I'll go first."

"No!" Jeez, did she want him to
spontaneously combust?

"Don't be silly, it's only harmless
fun. Let's see. This is one I had tonight. It's recurring so it must mean
something. Probably that I'm too horny for my own good. I'm enjoying a hot
Roman bath with other women, all of us completely naked..."

"Stop it, Lucy." Would she
never let up?

But she didn't stop. "Then six male
slaves enter. They're naked too, and their bodies are slick with oils. And each
one of them has a hard-on the size of..." she glanced down to where his
crotch was hidden beneath the covers, "...yours. But they don't look at
any of the other women, just me. They enter the water, approaching slowly, lust
in their eyes. Then one by one—"

"Lucy, that's enough!" He
rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't look at her any more. Even
in the darkness he could see the shine of lust in her eyes. If her story ended
as steamily as he thought it would, then he couldn't listen and still lie
passively next to her.

The alternative was too much, too
dangerous to think about.