Snapped (17 page)

He tucked her under his arm, caressed her
hair and closed his eyes. "Yes." His voice was barely a hoarse
whisper. "It was."

Moments later, her breathing deepened and
her body relaxed. Sleep took over his slack limbs and numb brain. He relaxed
with the perfect woman in his arms.

Later, he'd analyze what he'd done.

Then he'd try to figure out how to get
out of the mess.

CHAPTER
11

Slack limbed and sated, Lucy nuzzled into
Nick's body, drawing the smell of man and sex into her lungs. His chest rose
and fell beneath her hand and she lifted her head to look at his face. Thick
lashes drew long shadows across his cheeks in the late afternoon sun streaming
through the window. The scar beneath his eye looked like an errant pale tear
but the effect was at odds with the small smile on his pouting lips. He looked
peaceful, content and just as sated as she was.

Her heart swelled.

Then it rose to her throat and stuck
there. She'd never had such a sentimental thought before, and now wasn't a good
time to start. Especially not with self-righteous Nick Dante, the man who
wanted to save her from herself. She laughed softly. So much for his
holier-than-thou attitude. He hadn't been able to keep his hands off her.

Thank God for that. If he had, she'd
still be squirming in the bathtub in sexual frustration because she needed a
man inside her. And not just any man.

But she'd had him inside her now and
still the feeling was there—what was it? Emptiness? How could she feel empty
when she'd got exactly what she'd wanted? Regret? Couldn't be, because she
regretted nothing about her actions.

Her hand grazed lightly down his naked
hip and leg and he sighed. She relaxed into him, drew her fingers across one
powerful thigh to his flaccid penis. She took his balls in her palm, caressed
them, weighed them, and watched with fascination as he sprang to life. His sigh
turned to a drowsy moan and he pushed himself into her hand then turned his
face into her neck.

She was sure he was still asleep as he
rolled her over, entered her and moved to a slow rhythm. She reached down
between them and helped her own rising orgasm along. They came together.

His eyes flew open as he rolled off her. "Lucy!"

"Who did you think it was?"
Don't
let him say another woman's name.

He shrugged, looked embarrassed. "I
thought I was dreaming."

"Wet dreams?"

"Something like that." He got
out of bed before she could reach over and touch him.

"Who were you making love to in your
dreams?"

He surprised her by laughing. "You,
of course."

Truth or flattery? But Nick wasn't the
sort of man to flatter. Warmth seeped across her skin and she almost purred.

"Where are you going?"

His delicious, round butt disappeared
through the bedroom door. She wanted that butt back in bed with her, snuggling
against her thighs where she could caress the dent in his cheek. She sighed,
this time definitely feeling empty without him to curl into, talk to. She
didn't like him leaving straight after sex.

She heard the bathroom door open and
close. Five minutes later he still hadn't come out and she was hungry. The
heating had sent the temperature in the house to summer levels so she didn't
bother putting on clothes and padded into the kitchen. Nothing in the cupboards
or the fridge interested her appetite, and she really didn't feel like cooking.

She went back to the hallway and knocked
on the bathroom door.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. What do you want?"

"It's just that you've been in there
a while and—"

"Can't a guy have some
privacy?"

"Not when there's only one bathroom
and I need to pee." The lock on the other side clicked and the door jerked
open. He hadn't flushed which confirmed her suspicion that he was only in there
to get away from her.

That stung.

"I'm going to order pizza."

He looked down at her, his eyes hooded
but a small crease between his brows and his simmering vibes told her he was
pissed. With her? Himself? For what they'd done? She should have known the
magic wouldn't last. It never did. It was sentimental crap to hope that this
time would be different.

Except this time, it wasn't her giving
the brush off, it was him.

"No, I'll do it. I don't want anyone
knowing you're here."

"Not even the pizza guy?"

His mouth almost curved into a smile but
didn't, and he pushed past her into the hallway. He was still gloriously naked
but he didn't cover himself. Neither did she. She felt comfortable walking
around the house like this with him. Apparently so did he.

He disappeared down the hall and she
closed the bathroom door. What the hell had he been doing in here? Getting away
from her? Thinking? About this? Them? Oh hell. She turned on the tap and
splashed cold water on her face. She'd never obsessed over men and what their
signals meant. Abbey had and Lucy used to tell her to get a grip and just enjoy
herself.

Now she knew why Abbey would look at her
like she was nuts. She obsessed for a reason—she cared.

But Lucy was
not
going to obsess. Sure,
she cared about Nick, but not
that
much. Not enough to turn her life
upside down, make a fool of herself and fret every time he was five minutes
late to a date.

Then cry herself to sleep every night
after he left her.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. She
opened it. Nick was dressed in khaki pants. Damn. But at least he hadn't put on
a shirt.

"I didn't know what you'd like so I
ordered a Supreme because that's what I like."

She could see he was trying not to look
at her nakedness but it didn't work. His eyes slipped to her nipples then
lower.

"No anchovies?"

He screwed up his face. "No. You
like them?"

She'd made love to this man, twice, and
yet they knew nothing about each other. Not the important things like pizza
toppings. "Can't stand them."

He nodded and they stood like that for a
while, neither moving, although their eyes were busy assessing moods, skimming
flesh, hiding real emotions.

"Lucy, let's talk." Before she
could answer, he took her hand and guided her back into the bedroom. "But
you need to put something on first because I can't concentrate with you
naked."

She threw on one of his shirts and he
sighed. "That'll have to do, I guess."

One look at his earnest gaze, his tight
lips, and something tripped inside her. "Maybe I should change into
something else." She made to leave but he blocked her.

"Quit stalling."

How did he know that's what she was doing?

He took her shoulders and stooped to look
into her eyes. "Lucy, I have something important to tell you." He
straightened and for a long moment she thought he'd changed his mind and would
leave her alone. But then he continued. "I thought I could do this. I
thought I could have a fling with you, just for the few days we're here,
but," he pushed a hand through his hair, "I can't." He paced the
room, shaking his head.

Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, her legs
too weak to hold her up. She should ask him to go on but she couldn't. She
didn't want to know what he would say next.

"Nick, don't."

"Don't?" He dropped on his
knees in front of her. "Don't? I have to, Lucy. This is going to drive me
nuts if I don't say it. Believe me, I wish I had a choice, but I don't. I want
you like crazy. And not just in my bed, in my life. I shouldn't but," he
shrugged, half-smiled, "I don't seem to have a choice about this."

"There's always a choice."

He shook his head and gripped her thighs.
His thumbs rubbed her bare flesh, a distracted movement that he didn't seem
aware of as he looked into her eyes. "There's no choice this time. I want
to date you. Get to know you better. I want to make this a more permanent
arrangement after the case is over."

"Permanent?" The word came out
a squeak through her tight throat. "I don't—"

"No, don't say anything until you've
heard me out." Some of the earnestness fell away from his face as it
softened. "I care so much about you. I want to be with you, get to know
you better, but..."

Her mouth went dry. There was always a
'but'.

"...but you have to change."

She drew away from him. "Change?"

"Maybe that's not the right
word." He sighed, glanced away for a second then turned back to her, his
eyes shining brightly. "I can overlook your past. What's done is
done."

Her past? "You mean my
reputation?"

He nodded, winced and shifted his weight.
"Yeah. Let's make one thing clear before we go any further. While we're
dating, I'm the only guy in your life. Understand? I won't share you."

Lucy felt like she'd been punched in the
gut as the wind whooshed out of her. She held up her hands. "Wait a
minute. Dating?" She dropped her hands and placed one to her chest where
it felt like something heavy was pressing down on her. "Do I get a say in
this? Or have you already decided my life for me?"

He sat back on his haunches, looking like
she'd just hit him. "You
want
to see other men?" His face
paled and in the dull light the scar actually looked like a real tear.

"I never said—"

But he wasn't listening. "Jeez,
Lucy, I thought if you met the right guy..." He shook his head, stood but
looked unsteady on his feet. He clutched the open door and said, "God, I'm
an idiot." Then stormed out of the room.

Lucy somehow remembered to breathe. She
lay back on the bed but that was a mistake because it smelled of their
lovemaking and Nick. She sat up again and concentrated on breathing regularly
to slow her heart rate.

What the hell had that been about? Dating?
Changing? Sharing? When he made up his mind, the guy was a fast mover, that was
for sure. Too fast. He hadn't given her time to think it over, sort through her
feelings.

But now her feelings were definitely
sorted and anger was coming out on top. She didn't like being manipulated into
doing anything, especially when it came to her sex life. He was trying to force
her into making a decision about them now, after they'd only just slept
together. It was too soon, too much. And she wouldn't be forced into anything.

Not when the weight on her chest kept
pressing, telling her that this was too wrong, she wasn't ready. She felt
suffocated. This must be how a claustrophobic felt when stuck in a cupboard—trapped.

***

Nick ached everywhere. He sat at the
kitchen table, the open pizza box in front of him, and couldn't eat. He
couldn't even go through the motions.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He'd known after they made love that he'd
fallen too far for her. There was no going back after that. Whatever she was,
whatever she'd done in the past, he could overlook because he just wanted her
in his arms. Every day and every night. He wanted to wake up next to her, fall
asleep with her. He wanted to tell her his secrets, his fantasies, and hear
hers. He wanted to laugh with her, play with her.

But she didn't want those things.

So it had just been sex, right from the
start. He'd fooled himself into thinking he meant more to her than another
notch on her belt. He'd been so wrong.

He felt hollow, like a piece was missing
inside. Maybe he should've approached it differently. He should have shut up,
just let her
think
she was calling the shots then turn up on her
doorstep every day until she got the message he loved her.

Loved her. God, it hurt admitting that. He'd
never known such powerful, gut-wrenching emotion so it had to be love.

Of all the women he had to fall in love
with, why her? Why a woman who could rip his heart out by casting her eye at
another man? A woman who didn't want him?

It was too late to take it back now. She
knew how he felt.

And she didn't care.

***

"Lucy?"

Lucy rolled over and blinked at the
closed bedroom door. Nick called her name again.

"What?"

Silence, and she regretted her harsh
tone. No matter how pissed she was with him, she needed to remember that he'd
just laid himself on the line and that took guts. She certainly couldn't have
done it.

"There's pizza here for you."

"I'm not hungry."

A pause. "I'll leave it at the
door."

She flopped back on her bed as she heard
his footsteps retreat. She'd moved out of his room and back to her own where
she wouldn't consume his presence with every breath. Did he go to his bedroom
or to the living room?