The Heart Has Reasons (58 page)

“I
must be crushing you.”

“You’re
not.  Don’t leave me.”

Gripping
her hips to his, he rolled them onto their sides.  Languorous green eyes
blinked at him and her beautiful face was aglow with passion.  He
whispered around the mysterious lump that had formed in his throat, “What the
hell have you done to me, Larissa?”

* * * * *

Larissa awoke around midnight.  The
bedroom curtains were open and opalescent moonlight slanted through the window,
bathing the bed in a pool of silver.  Chase’s arms enveloped her and she
snuggled closed into his embrace, having never felt so safe.  When he
smoothed wayward strands of hair from her face, she stretched, the tenderness
between her legs bringing a smile to her face.  “How long have you been
awake?”

“A
while.  Larissa, we need to talk.”

His
voice was so stiff and serious it chilled her blood, making her feel all hollow
and shivery, as if she were headed to the gallows.  “Talk about what?” she
managed to croak out.

“What
we discussed earlier about your feelings for me doing an abrupt
about-face.  I just want you to know that I will harbor no resentment if
you ever do decide to implicate me.  And to spare you the stress and
embarrassment of a lengthy public trial, I’ll make a full and immediate
confession.”

Relief
surged through her like an intravenous drug.  “Chase, that’s not going to
happen.  I’m
not
suffering from Stockholm syndrome.”

“I’m
just saying.”  He cupped her cheek and kissed her.  “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

While
she saw to the puppy’s needs, he prepared an impromptu meal of bacon, toast,
and eggs scrambled with cheese.  After they’d eaten, they showered
together, then made love yet again.  Afterwards, as they lay cradled in
one another’s arms, Larissa asked, “Do you think the only thing between us
might be sex?”

“What
I feel for you is definitely more than mere physical attraction.”

Nestling
closer into his embrace, she was quiet for some time, trying to find a way to
phrase the question that had haunted her for the past month, but in a way that
wouldn’t sound antagonistic.  She finally just blurted it out. 
“Chase, why wouldn’t you believe me?”  At the look of pain that crossed
his face, she instantly regretted broaching the subject, fearing that she’d
somehow broken the near-magical spell that until now had enveloped them.

He
shifted slightly away from her so he could look into her eyes as he
answered.  “Not only did Sparrow play to perfection the part of the
grieving husband, he warned me you were a world-class liar and actress. 
And there was that fucking portrait.  But I think it was mainly because
you weren’t frightened enough.  If you really believed you were going to
die, I would have expected you to be terrified to the point of near-hysteria.”

“With
another man, I probably would have been.  Unfortunately, I’m not always a
great judge of character but, after that first night, I instinctively knew,
despite all evidence to the contrary, that you were fundamentally a good man
who wouldn’t harm or allow me to be harmed.  To control my fear, I
convinced myself that I’d be able to persuade you to let me go before the five
days were up.”

“You
were planting some serious doubt in my mind.  And yet, like a fucking
idiot, I still delivered you to him.”

“That
was my fault.  Seducing you was a severe misjudgment on my part.  Not
that I regret it.”

“It
had nothing to do with seducing me.  It was what you said afterward, about
having faked everything.  I was so devastated I wanted to hurt you in
return.”  His eyes left hers to follow his hand as it caressed a path down
her side and over the curve of her hip.  “Do you remember I told you I’d
been married for a short time?”

“Honey,
I remember every single word you said.”

“The
marriage was a debacle.  Less than a year into it, Michelle betrayed me,
and with my best friend, no less.  From then on, I was unwilling to trust
another woman.  I actually avoided becoming involved with anyone I might
grow to care for.  And from the things Sparrow told me about you, I
assumed you were just like Michelle.  Jesus, Larissa, I can’t even begin
to express to you how sorry I am.”

Pushing
him onto his back, she straddled him, clasped his face between her hands and
kissed him deeply.  “Chase, please stop apologizing.  I understand
the deep regret you feel.  If you didn’t regret what you did, you wouldn’t
be the man I know you to be.  I assure you I harbor
no
ill
feelings, nor do I have any desire to berate you.  I’m simply trying to
understand what I did wrong.”

He
brought one hand up to caress her cheek.  “You did nothing wrong.  I
was simply an idiot.”

She
stretched out full length atop him and cradled her head on his chest, relishing
the masculine scent and feel of him.  “How’d you persuade those thugs to
recant their stories?”

“Wasn’t
me.  I was in jail at the time.”

“Friends,
then?  Friends who might also be ex-Special Forces?”

He
grinned.  “Mad Dog, Roach, and Travis.  They abducted the three who
ID’ed us and drove them to Roach’s cabin out in the Mohave.”  He went on
to give her what details he knew.

When
he finished, she admitted, “I almost wish I could’ve seen the fat one get
his.  Like Sparrow, he enjoys hurting women.”

The
next few hours they spent nuzzling and kissing and talking, learning all they
could of one another.  With the unabashed curiosity of new lovers, they
languidly explored each other’s bodies.  Eventually they drifted into
sleep, although each was too conscious of the other to sleep deeply.  Each
time one of them moved, the other was aware of it.  When one shifted, the
other did as well, to maintain the constant connection of their bodies.

Larissa
awoke sometime later, tucked into the curve of his body, her back pressed
against his broad chest.  His muscular arm wrapped comfortably about her,
hand cupping one breast.  She pressed herself back against him, molding
herself to him further.  He made a sound of contentment and kissed the
back of her neck as his arms tightened around her.

She
was only half-awake as he lazily circled his palm against her nipple, creating
a stream of liquid heat that cascaded down to settle between her thighs.
 When his erection nudged her, she shifted position slightly to facilitate
matters and he eased into her.  Her body felt languid and heavy as, behind
her, Chase stroked somnolently in and out, causing a deep core of warmth to
arise within her.  His arms tightened around her, and his breath ruffled
the hair at the back of her neck as he murmured, “I love you, Larissa.”

In
a state of near mindless trance, she made no reply, although silent tears
trickled from beneath her lids.  The pleasure intensified until her bones
and muscles felt as though they were liquefying.  Without warning, her
body suddenly ignited and wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through her. 
As her orgasm finally began to subside, Chase groaned, and she felt the warm
flood of his own release.

Afterwards,
with him still inside her, she lay wrapped in his arms, both of them replete
with satiation.  When his breathing slowed and deepened, and she was sure
that he was asleep, she whispered into the darkness, “I love you, too.”

CHAPTER
41

When Chase awoke the next morning, he was
strongly inclined to believe that the world was a beautiful and wondrous
place.  He lay there for some time, drinking in the sight of Larissa’s
sleeping face.  A slight smile lifted the corners of her lips and he could
see by the movement of her eyes she was dreaming.  He himself had slept
dreamlessly — his first nightmare-free sleep since the day of his arrest.

Down
the hall, the puppy whined.  Careful not to wake Larissa, he eased out of
bed, slipped into his khakis, and padded barefoot to the kitchen where a madly
wagging tail greeted him.  As Chase carried him outside, the puppy
squirmed and licked his face enthusiastically.  Once deposited upon the
grass, the puppy squatted to urinate, then took off in delighted, clumsy pursuit
of a large orange-and-black butterfly.

The
day was already warm and the early morning sun tingled on Chase’s bare
skin.  Fluffy white clouds floated peacefully across the azure of the
sky.  To the left of the narrow sidewalk that bisected the back yard, a
large concrete birdbath stood in the center of a circular flowerbed.  A
robin splashed in the water, flinging droplets onto the bees that droned lazily
among the surrounding mass of red blossoms.  Unable to remember a single
day as beautiful as this one, he inhaled deeply, nearly overwhelmed by the joy
that suffused him.

Next
door, a large maple cast a lacework of shadows on the ground while a cardinal
flitted through its branches like a bright, red dart.  Wearing a bathrobe
and slippers, the elderly Asian woman scuffed out the back door carrying a
small bag of garbage.  She started down the walk, spotted him standing
shirtless and shoeless in Larissa’s backyard, and came to an abrupt halt.

The
grass tickled Chase’s bare feet as he strode toward the fence that separated
the two yards.  “Good morning.  I’m Chase O’Malley, a friend of
Larissa’s.”

The
woman joined him on the opposite side of the fence to take his proffered
hand.  The top of her head barely reached his armpit.  “I Yumiko
Franklin.  You old or new friend?”

“Old. 
Larissa and I knew each other years ago.  After seeing her on television,
I decided to look her up again.”

Yumiko
confided what a good neighbor Larissa had been, and how worried she’d been when
she’d gone missing.  As her eyes roved over his body, lingering on his
scars, she added, “Larissa need big man like you.  Police no catch
kidnapper.”

Her
unabashed scrutiny made him wish he’d taken the time to slip into a shirt
before coming outside.  “Yes, well, Brian Sparrow’s dead, so the kidnapper
has no reason to return.”

“I
hope you right.”

When
the puppy came bounding over to nibble his toes with needle-sharp teeth, Chase
scooped him up in self-defense.  At the sound of a vehicle rumbling up the
alley, he glanced in that direction and uttered a mental curse when the black
pickup truck with oversized tires came to a stop directly behind Larissa’s
property.  As the ex-boyfriend climbed down from his vehicle, Yumiko
needlessly informed him, “This man make problem for Larissa.  You go
inside, call police.”

“That
won’t be necessary.  But would you mind taking the puppy so he doesn’t get
stepped on?”  He handed the squirming canine across the fence, then
positioned himself on the walk, blocking access to Larissa’s back door.

Most
martial artists possessed a quiet confidence and self-possession that derived
from the knowledge of their own capabilities.  They had nothing to prove
to anyone.  This, apparently, was not the case with this man. 
Wearing a threadbare tee shirt, sweat pants, and rubber beach sandals, he
strode down the short walk in a pugnacious strut, fists clenched at his
sides.  Clearly convinced of his own supremacy, he stopped before
Chase.  “Who the fuck are you?”

“Chase
O’Malley.”  Although he already knew the answer, he tossed back, “Who the
fuck are
you
?”

“Steve
Dorman.  I’m here to see Larissa.”

Praying
it was true, he said, “Larissa doesn’t want to see you.”

When
Dorman attempted to go around him, Chase sidestepped into the grass, blocking
his way once more.  “I suggest you leave, before you get hurt.”

“If
anybody’s gonna get hurt, it ain’t gonna be me.  I got a black belt in
karate.”

Chase
continued to block his way.  “That doesn’t alter the fact that Larissa
doesn’t want to see you.”

The
man stepped out of the flip-flops and shifted into an offensive stance. 
“Step aside. 
Now
.”

Chase
let his arms hang relaxed at his sides.  “Don’t you realize how pathetic
it is to pursue a woman who doesn’t want you?”

Apparently,
Dorman did.  Rage contorted his face and he struck out with a clenched
fist.  Chase neatly dodged and the blow whistled harmlessly past his
ear.  Brow furrowing with surprise, Dorman immediately followed with a
left jab that Chase nonchalantly blocked with a forearm.  Redoubling his
attack, Dorman executed a roundhouse kick.  Chase easily blocked it and
the front snap-kick that immediately followed.

Dorman
swallowed hard, his façade of confidence beginning to crack as he realized he
might be overmatched.  Growing frantic, he launched a barrage of straight
punches, palm strikes, front thrust kicks, and side kicks.  Unable to land
a single blow, his face took on a whisper of fear as his confidence began to
evaporate.

He
broke off the attack to circle, looking for an opening.  Chase
thoughtfully obliged by deliberately providing him with one.  Feinting to
the left, Dorman jabbed out with his right.  Expecting the move, Chase
grabbed the extended arm, swept around behind him, and slammed him facedown to
the ground.