The Good Daughter (17 page)

A scream clawed its way up from her throat.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Vince whispered harshly.

She tried to speak, but he trapped her between his body and the house, his hand still over her mouth as he scanned the area.

“Don’t say anything,” he warned. He continued to scrutinize the lawn and the street. “Someone broke into my house.”

Chloe gasped.

Then he pinned her with those laser eyes. “We have to be quiet.” His seriousness rubbed off on her.

She nodded her understanding.

His hand dropped, but he didn’t move away. He listened to the night sounds.

After a few moments, the tension drained from his frame. “I’m pretty sure they’re gone. I just—” He focused on her. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”

“It’s all right. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Vince’s eyes widened. A different tension invaded him as they regarded each other in the moonlight.

New sensations took over: his muscled chest against her breasts…the unyielding wall behind her…his erection against her belly…

Chloe saw his pupils darken as his gaze dropped to her lips. Her body softened, her pelvis tilting slightly in welcome.

“Don’t,” he warned. But it came out a groan.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“No.” He licked his lips.

She stared, fascinated, at his tongue, then tried to lift herself to his mouth. His hands imprisoned her upper arms, holding her in place. “Why not?” she demanded, amazed at her daring.

His features went still, but his eyes burned. He didn’t answer.

She shoved at him. Like a boulder, he couldn’t be moved.

“No.” His eyes locked on hers.

“No what?” She glanced away, already regretting her impulsiveness. “If you don’t want me, just say so and get out of my way.”

His shoulders began to shake, and a rough laugh rumbled up from his throat. He pressed his groin against her, and it was the most erotic and glorious sensation she could imagine. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?”

“I’m female. You’re male. You can’t help a simple physical reaction.”

“Christ, Chloe, I’ve been hard so much of the time since we met that the damn thing should have broken off by now.” He clasped her chin and turned her face up to him. “I want you so bad it’s making me crazy.”

“Then why—” She couldn’t finish.

“Because you’re—”

Then she got it. “Because I’m a virgin? You jerk. You impossible, arrogant jerk. You think that because I haven’t had sex with anyone at my advanced age that somehow I need to be treated like some fragile little flower?” She smacked at his chest and pushed again. “Let me go. I’m leaving.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he clasped her wrists and trapped them above her shoulders. “What the hell do you expect, Chloe? A woman’s first time should be special. It should be romantic, with flowers and wine and candles and—”

“Maybe I don’t need those. Maybe I don’t want gentle.”

Fury sparked. “So that’s why you’re here? To let the mongrel teach you to do the nasty?” He thrust away from her.

And she mourned the loss of him. Scrambling to figure out where this conversation had derailed, she was opening her mouth to argue, when he whirled.

“Well, to hell with that,” he said. “Just to hell with that. You go find some other mutt to sully your lily-white body, because this bastard isn’t bastard enough to do that. I don’t play stud for anyone, not even spoiled rich girls—”

“Stop it.” Chloe closed the gap, grasping his head in her hands and standing on tiptoe to press her mouth to his. He stiffened, and she nearly lost her courage.

She forced herself to persist. “You matter, Vince. I came here tonight because you matter. Make love to me. I want my first time to be with you. No one’s ever made me feel as you do.”

A shudder ran through Vince as he stared down at the woman who’d crowded all others out of his mind since the day they’d met. When she tried to pull him close again, he balked. “You have to be sure,” he warned. “I’m not doing this if—”

“I’m sure.” She slid her arms around his neck, kissing
him until he could barely remember his name, much less resist her.

So he wrapped her tightly into his embrace and turned the kiss hotter. The top of his head was going to blow off, and he couldn’t care less. Everything in his life shrank to nothing in comparison with how much he wanted Chloe, how much he needed—

Vince went still. He couldn’t need her. He wouldn’t.

“Shh,” she said, and ran her tongue over his lips. “Forget everything but me, Vince. Please…let us have this one night without the world interfering.”

Her eyes were huge and dark and so damn beautiful he couldn’t do anything but hold her closer. “I don’t know if I have any candles,” he murmured, sliding his mouth to her jaw, nibbling at the tender underside of it and hearing her sigh.

“Maybe the dark is better, anyway.”

He heard the nerves and drew back a few inches. “Oh, no, you don’t. I want to see every last gorgeous inch of you.”

Chloe’s fingers trailed across his chest. “I want to see you, too,” she murmured. There was mischief in her eyes. In the curve of her lips. “Every last inch.”

He groaned. “You’re killing me.”

“I am?” She sounded thrilled.

Vince couldn’t stop a chuckle. He swept her off her feet and headed for the front door. “But I’m not anywhere near dead yet.” Using his shoulder, he eased inside, then closed the door with his heel and locked it behind him.

Just then, Chloe fastened her mouth to his throat.

He almost dropped her. Tightening his grip, he made short work of the distance to his bedroom.

But once there, he slid her slowly down his body until her feet touched the floor. Then he stepped back, somber. “Why did you come here tonight, Chloe?”

Her eyes a little glazed, Chloe frowned faintly. Then it was as though the sun had come out after long, cloudy days. “I found my sisters.”

He goggled. “Already?”

“They want me, Vince.” Her eyes were warm melted chocolate. “They’ve been looking for me.”

“I’m glad,” he said. She wouldn’t be so alone anymore.

And she wouldn’t need him. He should be happy about that.

Chloe’s gaze dipped as if suddenly shy. “I was too excited to sleep. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you might have—” She glanced around the room and shrugged. “I thought you might not be alone.”

Just like that, the day’s events crashed in on him. “Chloe, you shouldn’t be here. You have to go,” he said. “Barnes is right. You can’t afford to be anywhere near me.”

Her eyes fairly crackled then. “Roger is a pompous jerk. He has no idea what I need—” She looked Vince over with a thoroughness that should have made him uncomfortable.

It only made him stone hard.

Vince took a step back, grasping for the lost reins of his control.

Chloe advanced. “Don’t change your mind, Vince. Please.” Her tongue took a nervous swipe over her lips, and he barely stifled a groan. “I want to know what it’s like, and I want you to be the one to teach me.”

“Chloe—” His voice came out strangled. “I’m trying to save you, and you’re not helping.”

The woman who’d challenged him at darts smiled, eyes sparkling. “Maybe I don’t want to be helpful.” Then she did the one thing he couldn’t fight: she visibly lost her nerve. “You said you wanted me,” she whispered.

He saw just how vulnerable she was but tried to keep perspective. “One of us has to have some sense. There’s no percentage in anything between us. You know that.”

“Do I?” she asked softly, and placed her hands on his chest, sliding them up to tangle in his hair. She rose to tiptoe and paused a micron away from his mouth, throwing his challenge right back at him. “I never took you for a coward, Detective.”

Then her breasts pressed into him and that fallen-angel mouth closed over his. Vince scrambled to hold on to his rapidly vanishing logic.

She slid her tongue inside his mouth, moaning softly, and logic went up in smoke.

Chloe felt it when Vince gave up on protecting her from himself. The kiss turned so carnal and consuming she had to fight for breath.

Oh. Oh, my—
Had she ever dreamed anything could be like this? Any pretense of distance vanished, and Vince’s desire rolled over her like the last wave before drowning.

And all Chloe could do was hang on for dear life.

Inside Vince pounded a drumbeat of possession.

Mine. She’s mine.

For one wavering second, Vince glimpsed the faint possibility of pulling back, of remembering some trace of why he should resist her.

Then the riptide swept him under, and all he could do was try not to devour her whole when every beat of his heart shouted for him to take her and keep her and never, ever let her go. “Wait—” He tore his mouth from hers. “I’ll be right back.”

Chloe froze as he left the room, unsure what she’d done wrong. Ready to bolt.

Then she heard the soft, sensual music.
Sade.
The man continued to surprise her. Something inside her took a tumble.

Vince walked back into his bedroom with one single stubby candle in his hand, feeling like a fool. At the sight of her, he stopped, wondering how he’d ever gotten so lucky.

“Puccini to West Africa—you’re a man of diverse tastes. Was it a woman who taught you about opera?”

Vince grasped at the distraction. “Yes.” The older woman’s face rose in his memory.

“You loved her,” Chloe said.

He started to deny it, but the time for playing games was past, and Liliane deserved better, anyway. “Liliane saw something in me no one else ever had,” he admitted. “She convinced me that I could make up for my slow start, that my world could be as big as I dared reach.”

“I’m glad. You’re as smart a man as I’ve ever met.
You shouldn’t sell yourself short.” Her lips curved at the corners, and the need to trace them with his tongue overshot the discomfort of her too-keen perception.

He crossed the remaining steps and set the candle down on the night table, lighting it with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. “I don’t want to talk anymore, Chloe.”

Her eyes went wide and dark.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Vince. I only want to be enough, and I’m worried that I won’t be, that I can’t—”

With a kiss, he hushed her.

Fingers clumsy with a longing that was more than physical, Vince slid the straps of her sundress down her shoulders, tracing the sweet line of her collarbone and tasting her skin on his tongue.

Peaches. The good doctor tasted of peaches, sun warmed and ripe for the picking.

Her fingers slipped beneath his T-shirt. He flinched when her nails grazed his belly. She jerked her hands away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Vince grasped for what was left of his self-control. “That wasn’t wrong,” he barely managed to say. “It was—” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers one by one, then lowered her hand to the front of his jeans. “Just about more than I can handle.”

Her eyes widened as she felt his response. “Oh.” She worried at her lower lip.

“That mouth,” he growled. “I wanted that mouth the first time I laid eyes on it.” He bent down, and when
her hand closed over him, he couldn’t stifle the groan. “Chloe—” he said against her lips. “I want to take this slow, but you’re making it too—”

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about anything besides how she smelled, how she tasted, how he never wanted her hand to move, but—

“Hard?” Chloe asked, and he heard the smile.

He looked up. Her eyes still held jitters.

Vince shook his head, drawing her down to the bed. “I should have known after you almost whipped me at darts.”

“Known what?” Her voice was breathy and threatening to drive him out of his mind.

“You don’t play fair. And you’re never what I expect.” He rolled onto his back and put one arm over his eyes, struggling to back down several notches before he ruined everything.

The mattress moved. Her warmth left his side.

Vince sought her out. She was pulling up the straps of her dress, searching for her shoes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m—I tried to tell you I wouldn’t be good at this.”

Vince bolted up straight. “What?” He vaulted the footboard and grabbed her. “What are you talking about?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Passion. I’m not a passionate person. I can’t be what someone like you expects.”

Vince knew he didn’t dare smile. Part of him felt more like howling, anyway. “Darlin’, if you were any more passionate, I’d be terrified.”

It was her turn to be startled. “What?”

“Chloe, you’ve singed every last nerve ending I ever possessed. You’re so responsive it’s all I can do not to be a complete animal with you.”

Color rose in her cheeks. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“Oh, sweet mercy.” Vince swallowed hard. “Because—”

Her chin jutted, and her eyes spit sparks. “If you say because I’m a virgin, I’m going to scream. Stop treating me as if I’m crystal. Make me feel like the women in all those books I’ve read, Vince. I never thought a man would ever make me want to—” She stopped.

“What?” he prodded. “Tell me.”

Cheeks flaming, her eyelids fluttered down, then defiantly rose again. “Moan,” she said. “Claw. Act like anything but a lady.”

Every word flashed through him like chain lightning. One more time, Vince tried to remember all the reasons they had no business doing this, all the reasons he had to take it slow and easy.

Chloe backed away from him.

Vince squeezed his eyes shut and told himself it was for the best. She’d finally regained her senses.

Then he heard the whisper of fabric sliding to the floor. He opened his eyes, and there she stood, clad only in the tiniest pair of pale yellow panties he’d ever seen, back straight but hands clenched into fists, while her eyes swirled with a mixture of need and bravado and an uncertainty that broke his heart.

“You really don’t play fair, do you?” he asked, advancing on her. “But I was right. You’re no coward, Chloe St. Claire,” he said, stripping his shirt off over
his head and reaching for the snap on his jeans as he came within a hair’s width of her body and wondered if he’d ever draw a solid breath again. “I’m still going to try to be gentle with you, but that’s seeming pretty damn impossible right this minute, darlin’, so if I fail, I’m just gonna have to give you a rain check and try again. That all right with you?” he asked as he lost the last of his clothing and pressed full length against her.