She tugged out papers from the desk, throwing them against the Pottery Barn bowl that held apples on the table. The man was too tempting, and she was still damaged. Protecting her heart was her job, not his. “Sign the papers, and then you need to leave.”
He lifted his gaze, those gray eyes that could blaze with passion or freeze with anger. For now, those windows shuttered closed. “No.”
Exasperation caught a scream in her throat. It took every ounce of control she had to shove it back down. She’d wanted to do this the right way, the respectful way. A way that demonstrated they’d meant something to each other. Even though their marriage had ended, even though he’d left, enough had been there to end it right. “That’s not an option.” She tried to keep her chin from tilting as she threw his words back in his face.
A spark flared in his eyes. His gaze swept her body top to bottom, pausing several times on the journey. The air in the room thickened.
The moment slammed a hard awareness into her solar plexus. She’d imagined him in the comfortable home, looking at her like that.
Like he had when they’d lived together.
Her feet stuck to the floor. She couldn’t look away from his high cheekbones, straight nose, and the full lips she hadn’t touched in two years. His thick hair had grown to his shoulders. Her fingers itched to touch. But she frowned. The military had let him grow his hair that long?
Holding her gaze, he stalked forward as graceful as any jungle cat. Slow and sure—closing the distance between them until she inhaled his scent of heated cedar. A hum began in her abdomen. Heat flushed along her skin.
One of his thick knuckles lifted her chin. She should step back. Away from danger. But something… something kept her still. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was hope that she could still feel on fire. Her limbs grew heavy. Too heavy to move. Her heart rate picked up.
Slowly, so slowly they both knew she had eons to move away, he lowered his head. His lips brushed hers. Firm, knowing, so hot. Once, twice, and then a third time.
A moan fluttered in her throat.
He stepped into her, one hand clenching her hip and the other angling her chin. Fire. His tongue shot past her lips, taking. One movement and he tugged her against his hard body, forcing her curves to accommodate his larger size, to accept him, to cushion the firm ridge of an erection digging into her skin. Need rippled through her so fast she shivered. Her sex softened. Her nipples pebbled.
The hand on her chin moved and tethered her hair as he destroyed her mouth. The familiar taste of him flayed her heart. His mouth released hers to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw to her neck.
So fast.
So hard.
So demanding.
She gasped for air, her mind spinning. Her knees weakening. Shane.
He kissed lower, dipping his face in the V of her shirt, pushing the material aside to nuzzle the tops of her breasts. A low hum of male appreciation echoed against her skin. She slid both hands through his thick hair, tugging him closer. Heat filled her. A ringing began in her ears. Her body leapt to life. For the first time in two years, she craved.
Suddenly, he shifted again, cupping her ass and lifting her against him. She gasped as her feet left the ground. Her legs automatically circled his waist.
This was crazy… and she truly didn’t care. More. She needed more.
Her body had been asleep for two years and suddenly felt awake. Alive.
The demanding hardness of his cock pressed against her core. His mouth returned to demolish hers, his strong hands working her body against his. Held aloft, she moaned and pressed her thighs against his hips, rubbing against him. Needing. Finally, he lifted his head.
His kiss was harder and more insistent than in their earlier life together. He’d always been so careful—so gentle. Something wild and new cascaded from him now. Excitement flared inside her chest. For once he was treating her as an equal. As a woman and not as something fragile he needed to shield.
Possession. It glittered in his gray eyes along with need. Desire. Promise. She should think. Shouldn’t she think?
“Josie. Either tell me where the bedroom is, or I’m taking you on the floor.” Low, almost guttural, his voice caressed the raw nerves all but begging for his touch.
Dazed, she opened her mouth to speak. The shrill of the phone made her jump. She shook her head. Reality. Where was reality? The phone rang again.
Shane’s eyes narrowed. His grip tightened on her ass, pulling her sex harder against his. She moaned. His dangerous gaze kept her captive.
The phone rang again.
Then her voice telling the caller to leave a message.
Then… Tom. “Hi, beautiful. How about dinner tonight?”
The air chilled ten degrees. Maybe more. Tension ripped through the once-peaceful kitchen. This was bad. Disastrous. Josie released Shane’s hair and slammed her hands against his chest, trying to unhinge her legs from around his hips.
He held her in place.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered. He wasn’t, not even close, but the words would make him release her.
“Then stop moving.” Not an ounce of give showed on his face.
She blinked several times. Shock kept her body immobile. The Shane she’d known would’ve set her immediately and safely to her feet.
Tom’s voice droned on in the background, detailing late dinner plans. She had to shut off the machine. Josie struggled, fighting to drop to the floor. She’d almost had sex with Shane. Two more seconds and—
“No.” Shane’s jaw hardened to rock. His eyes darkened to slate.
Panic. Danger. Violence. Josie stilled, her gaze captured by the anger in Shane’s. So much. Her lungs compressed. In all the time they’d spent together, not once had she been afraid of him.
Until now.
The machine clicked off.
The seconds ticked by as her heart rammed against her ribs. His gaze kept hers. No expression showed on his savage features, no glimmer in those eyes. She suppressed a shiver. Who was this man? Slowly, almost gently, Shane lowered her to the floor, holding her shoulders until she’d steadied herself. Then he took two steps back.
A chill ran over her arms, and she rubbed trembling palms against goose bumps. How in the world had she let this happen? She hadn’t ever tried to stop him. Even now, her body ached. For Shane. He was different this time. Not in control, not hiding his feelings. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Shane tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. So he wouldn’t reach for her again? “You’re not going to dinner.”
Well, no shit. She cleared her throat. “I’ve built a good life here, Shane.” No way was she letting him tear it down. Not again. Never again.
Maybe if she repeated the mantra enough, she’d believe the words.
Regret flashed across his face. “Do you love him?”
She was just getting to know Tom. Recently divorced, he harbored as many wounds as she did and had shown her kindness in the two months they’d known each other. But love? She’d given all she had to Shane. Who was anything but kind. “That’s none of your business.”
Shane tilted his head. “Do you really believe that?”
“Yes.”
A smile flirted with the corners of his lips. “Five more minutes and I would’ve been inside you. Hard and fast.”
Desire slammed below her abdomen even as she lifted her head in challenge. Hard and fast. One of the many ways Shane enjoyed the bedroom. As well as slow and soft. Crazy and fun. Yet always in perfect control.
His smile spread, soft and deadly. “And you would’ve been screaming my name, begging for more. We both know it.”
Was he remembering? Or just so sure of himself? She lifted a shoulder. “The sex was always okay between us, Shane.” The lie nearly made her choke. The sex had been incredible.
He laughed. A deep male chuckle. One she hadn’t heard in far too long. “Want me to prove it was better than okay, angel?”
Yes.
She sure did. Her breasts ached. Her sex had swollen. Intrigue at this new side of him sent fire through her veins. Hope flared alive, and she quashed it instantly. The man would never truly change, never truly let her in. “Hell, no.” Jerky movements had her at the table, where she yanked her cell phone out of her purse and sent a quick text message to Tom. She was too tired for dinner and would call him tomorrow.
Tossing her phone onto the counter, she flung open the refrigerator door and grabbed leftover lasagna. Routine would settle her. Whenever life became too much, she buckled down and got organized. Oddly enough, Shane had taught her that coping mechanism. Taking control of something as silly as color coordinating her closet had given her peace and a new outlook on life more than once. It looked like it was time to pick a new project again.
Cooking was another way she’d learned to soothe herself. The blue glass dish filled her hands. She’d made the lasagna the night before and more than half a pan remained. Shane’s favorite. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
A chair scraped behind her, and she turned as Shane dropped into it. Even sitting, his bulk overwhelmed the small space. Deep circles lay under his eyes as dark as the bruises covering his skin. “Are you going to feed me now?”
“Yes. Then you can sign the papers and get out.” She shoved away sympathy and put the dish in the microwave to set the time, fighting the pleasure of cooking for him again. While married, she’d
felt married
when cooking. Like they were a real family. Warm, healthy food was the only way he’d allowed her to care for him. And she’d loved doing it.
Even now, she’d spend hours at the farmer’s market choosing just the right ingredients. The freshest spinach, the home-grown tomatoes. Just last week, she’d spent an hour finding the right oregano plant to grow on the windowsill. In the kitchen, while cooking, for brief moments she allowed herself to pretend they were still together. That he relied on her. That he trusted and needed her.
But he never really had needed her. Until now.
How could she force him out? He had no clue who he was. Unless he was playing her. She grabbed plates and soda as the pasta cooked, taking the dish out and filling two plates before sitting. Beer wasn’t her thing, and the kind he liked, Guinness, was too strong for her. So she didn’t have any to offer. “You like lasagna. At least you used to.”
Shane nodded, taking a big bite and swallowing. “I still do.” Pleasure quirked his lip up as he ate.
Warmth filled her in response.
Finally, after clearing his plate, he rubbed his eyes. “Help me fill in the gaps. How did we meet?”
Memories crashed through her with a familiar pang. “We met in a coffee shop.” About a million years ago. “Some guy was messing with me, wouldn’t leave me alone, and you made him.” The guy had thought he was so cool with dark aviator glasses, pretending to be a soldier. He’d been Shane’s size but had backed down instantly. “We got married three weeks later.” A whirlwind. Fast, explosive, and so damn sexy. Completely opposite of how she planned her life. What had she been thinking?
“I see.” Shane’s eyes warmed. “How long were we married until we, ah…”
“Two months.” She sighed as hurt slammed into her abdomen. “Then you just left.”
“Without a word?” His gaze narrowed.
She shrugged. “Why are you in Washington?”
“I asked you a question.” Quick as that, his voice turned hard.
The tone was new. Her body stilled, while her mind spun. Intrigue kept her gaze fixed on him. So many times she’d tried to push him and make him lose control. Make him stop treating her like glass. Should she try now? “I heard your question.”
“I need you to answer it. To help me.” His inflection remained the same, but an odd vulnerability darkened his eyes. “I have to know what happened.”
For the briefest of seconds, and for the very first time, she saw the boy he might’ve been before turning into a soldier. Her heart warmed while her shoulders relaxed. No way could she turn away from the plea. “You kissed me good-bye in the morning, said you loved me, and that you’d be back.” After the most passionate night of their marriage, one she wasn’t ready to remind him about yet. “You didn’t come back.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Even now, the words hurt. How many times had she lain awake at night, alone, asking herself that very question? Why hadn’t he returned? Had he even thought about her? She’d relived their last week together in her head repeatedly. “The last week—it was bad.”
He stiffened. “Bad? How?”
She exhaled. “You were off. Really sad. A week before you left, you found out one of your brothers had died. Your brother, Jory.”
“Jory.” Shane frowned, rubbing his chest. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know.” Anger returned in a flash. “Until that week, I didn’t even know you had brothers.” She struggled to stay seated and not jump away from him. He’d had a whole life, a family, he hadn’t shared with her. “Why do you think you’re here now after two years?”
“You said you sent the divorce papers to my base. I assume I got them and came up to discuss the issue.” His shoulders straightened at the last.
Was he going to fight her on the divorce? Dread pooled in her stomach. “Then where are the papers?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep drink of soda. “You’re a great cook, Josie.”
Pleasure bloomed inside her chest. She’d learned to cook during college… hoping to have a family to nurture someday like the moms on television did. Sadness shoved the pleasure away. It hadn’t happened. “Thanks.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you a chef?”
“No.” Memories flooded in. She’d almost taken the risk and changed her accounting major to cooking during her second year at Cal State. But she hadn’t had the courage. Plus, she could control numbers. Organization and hard work counted. She’d never need to rely on one person or an entire system again. “I’m an accountant.”
Surprise lifted his eyebrows. “That explains the sexy suit.”
Sexy? Not even close. She kicked off the high heels, rubbing her feet on the smooth tiled floor. She’d paid for the tiles with her second paycheck from her new job at the accounting firm’s local branch. It had taken an entire weekend of searching for just the right color, a homey beige. “Accounting is safe.”