Flash Point Page 17

  “That’s silly. I didn’t once think you weren’t going to bandage my leg, that you would let me down.”

  “Not if you thought about it rationally. But I think you’ve been let down so many times in your life by people who really mattered, that it has become a habit for you to refuse any kind of help. If you don’t rely on people, they can’t disappoint you.”

  Emma considered his analysis, uncomfortably aware he was probably right. “I don’t know. Maybe.” When he simply stared at her, expression serious, Emma sighed. “Okay. Okay. You might have a point. I’ll work on it.”

  Her response seemed to satisfy him. “I’m going to make you a cup of tea. If you want something stronger, I have a bottle of Jameson’s. You probably need it to quiet that brain of yours. I have to go to the station but you can give your statement in the morning.”

  She nodded and, reaching up, turned his chin to the light with gentle fingers. A reddening bruise was forming beneath the dark stubble. “That has to hurt.”

  “Yeah, but it was worth it.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll get you something to change into.”

  She followed him in bare feet as he led the way to his bedroom. Emma looked around with interest. While he didn’t have much furniture downstairs, he’d certainly given some thought to his bedroom. The large four-poster bed was framed in a beautiful dark wood that complemented the jewel-toned bedding.

  Rumpled sheets showed he hadn’t bothered to make the bed that morning. Where downstairs he had left the logs revealed, in his bedroom he had plastered and painted the walls. Because she could so easily visualize him in those navy sheets, she shifted her gaze to the nightstand where a novel lay along with a ceramic tray that held loose change and a few receipts.

  Brad went to a dresser and pulled out sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a zippered HLPD sweatshirt. “Here, they’ll be big but comfortable.” The phone on the nightstand rang and Emma took the clothes into the bathroom while he answered. When she came out she could hear his voice downstairs so she set her folded skirt and top at the end of his bed and headed down to the kitchen.

  Stepping into the warmly lighted room, she saw a bottle of Tylenol and glass of water waiting on the counter. Brad was using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear while he filled a teapot. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Get his statement.” He pushed a button and set down the phone. He turned to put the teapot on the stove and spotted Emma. A grin flashed across his face. “Pretty cute.”

  Emma held up her arms where she’d turned back the sweatshirt cuffs several times, then dropped them back to her sides. “Yeah, that’s me. Cute.”

  He looked at her, considering. “When I saw you at the pub, I was thinking more like sexy as hell. I felt like I’d been sucker punched.”

  Emma gave him a smile. “Men are easy. A girl puts on a miniskirt and heels and they fall all over themselves.”

  Brad turned on the flame under the teapot, then moved to stand in front of her. “It’s more than the skirt and shoes. It’s the whole package. But I have to say, I really, really like those long legs of yours.”

  She shrugged. “It was fun to dress up for a change. I usually go for comfort.”

  He reached out to tug her closer. “Emmaline, when you’re recovered from this, will you let me take you out to dinner?”

  “Dinner? You mean to a real restaurant?”

  “Yeah. Go out with me on a date to a real restaurant where we both get dressed up. Maybe go dancing after.”

  Emma suddenly felt self-conscious. His question somehow made their relationship more formal. More real. The knots she’d carried in her stomach since she’d returned from the prison eased. He knew everything and he still wanted to be together. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to let the past dictate her future. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” He smiled, then turned to pick up the Tylenol bottle. He shook out a couple pills and handed them to her. “Here, take these and maybe you won’t have a whopper of a headache tonight.”

  He handed her the glass and Emma swallowed the pills. “You need to go.”

  “Yes, I need to go.” He paused, gaze steady. “I want you to stay here tonight.

  Dory will be at her parents’ and it may not be safe for you to be at the cabins by yourself.”

  When her immediate reaction was to insist she would be fine, Emma forced herself to stop and think. She would be safer at Brad’s house. She also realized her feelings for him had evolved into something deeper. She looked into his serious face and knew she couldn’t hold back from him any longer. But right now he had a job to do. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

  “Good. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be back when I can.” He gave her a swift kiss before grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. In seconds he was through the door, locking it behind him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma found a mug and poured hot water over a tea bag. With her fingers wrapped around her mug to warm them, she wandered into the living room where a lamp glowed. Sitting on the comfortable couch, she tucked her feet under her to keep them warm. Taking a sip, she let the tea soothe her. She leaned her head against the cushion and closed her eyes, and finally let herself acknowledge what she’d been hiding from for days. She was in love with Bradley Gallagher.

  The realization didn’t fill her with the panic she expected. Instead, contentment like she had never known spread through her. The fear of police, the belief she wasn’t good enough, her unwillingness to depend on others, had all been overcome by Brad’s steadiness, by the ingrained honor so much a part of him. Somehow this amazing, beautiful man cared for her. And he made her see herself, to see beyond her own fears and phobias. For the first time, she allowed herself to dream that she might have a future that included a man, maybe even a family.

  Finished with her tea, Emma felt her eyes beginning to droop with fatigue. A sharp rapping on the back door had her jerking upright. She paused, unsure what to do. Did Brad get people knocking on his door for help in the middle of the night? She padded toward the hallway that led to the back door. The knock sounded again, louder this time, followed by a voice. “Brad, it’s me.”

  Marla Banks. What was she doing at Brad’s house at what was getting close to midnight? Emma pulled open the door. The shock on Marla’s face when she saw who had opened the door would have been comical if Emma had been in the mood for humor. Under the porch light, fury flashed in Marla’s eyes as she scanned Emma from head to toe. “Well, well. I see I’ve let things progress too far. Let me in and then be a good little girl and tell Brad I want to speak to him.”

  It was one of the rare times Emma had seen Marla in something other than a power suit. Tonight she had chosen a silky blouse that drew tight across her breasts, matched with low-rise black pants over heeled boots. The outfit’s provocative sexiness revealed to Emma the point of the late-night visit.

  “Brad’s not here.”

  Marla raised a perfectly arced brow. “I see.” Her eyes were icy. “Don’t get too comfortable here, Ms. Kincaid. Bradley feels he has to tend to whatever stray puppy he finds, but soon he’ll send you on your way.”

  “You seem pretty confident, Marla.” She let her gaze drift over the woman’s outfit. “And obvious. But since I’m in Brad’s house and you’re not, you’ll have to save your seduction play for another time. If he’s interested.”

  The woman looked apoplectic. “You bitch.”

  Emma smiled, shut the door in the woman’s face, and turned the lock.

  ***

  Brad pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the garage. He leaned back against the seat and rubbed the grittiness from his eyes while waiting for the wide door to rise. Rodrigo Calderon was looking at a stretch in state prison and though Brad knew the man had done it to himself, he couldn’t help thinking he’d probably come out of jail meaner and angrier. The system was far from perfect.

  He entered the house through the back door and wondered if Emma would still be awake at two in the morning. It felt dif
ferent coming home knowing she was here, that the house wasn’t empty. Definitely something he could get used to. The lamp lit the living room but he found it vacant. Upstairs he turned on the hall light, then peeked into his bedroom.

  In the shadowy light Emma lay curled on her side in his bed, sleeping soundly. She’d kicked back the covers and his t-shirt gaped at her waist, exposing a line of smooth skin above silky panties. This was what he wanted. This woman. In his home. In his bed. Quietly, he stripped, then rummaged in his dresser for a pair of flannel pants. It probably crossed the line if Emma woke to find him in nothing but boxers.

  Propriety might dictate he sleep on the couch, but the idea held absolutely no appeal. Instead, he pulled up a sheet to cover the sleeping woman, then lay on top of it next to her, tugging up the blanket and quilt to cover them both. He resisted the temptation to curl into her, and instead stretched out on his back. The sound of her quiet breathing lulled him and in minutes he was fast asleep.

  ***

  Emma woke slowly, relishing the smoothness under her cheek and the warm hand on her lower back. Realization hit and her eyes popped open. In the shadowed darkness she could make out Brad’s features. The sheet lay tangled around her legs, but other than that she was pretty much plastered against him.

  She shifted to pull back but his hand tightened possessively.

  “No.” His voice sounded muffled, sleepy. He pulled her closer and turned his head so his lips brushed her hair. “Stay. This is nice.”

  “Brad, I—”

  “Shh.”

  Emma gave in and relaxed against him. His breathing deepened once again as he drifted back to sleep. In the dim glow of the nightlight she studied his shadowed face, dark lashes fanned against strong cheekbones. God, he was gorgeous. And she was a goner. She closed her eyes and, nestling into him, allowed herself to savor the comforting feeling of rightness.

  When she woke again, the sun had lightened the room enough for her to see dark green eyes open and focused intently on her. She gazed back, senses heightened by awareness. The tingling pull of sexual heat had her releasing a shaky breath. At the question in his expression, she buried her face into his neck and breathed in his scent while pressing openmouthed kisses onto smooth skin. He reacted instantly and slipped warm hands under her t-shirt to stroke up her back. She stretched languorously, moving onto his chest. He seared her mouth in a kiss that spread the tingling sensation all the way to her toes.

  Strong hands slid, cupped, stroked. She loved his hands. Those wide palms and long fingers had her opening like a flower reaching for the sun. Eyes heavy-lidded with desire, he grazed up her ribcage to caress her breasts until he dipped his head to find them with his lips. The sensations were almost too much, jumbled together, crowding on top of each other. For so long she had ignored or denied any sexual pulls, but Brad made her feel safe, desired, and she couldn’t hold back. She let out a low moan and arched her back. He moved from one breast to the other, the abrasion from his beard stubble heightening the electric sensations.

  She ran her fingers along his chin, enjoying the rough feel of his morning beard. His lips explored lazily along her collarbone to her throat. She ran her fingers through the thick hair lying across his forehead and he paused to rest his head against his pillow, dark eyes seeking hers in the dim light.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She smiled at his serious expression. “So are you.”

  “Yeah, right. Guys aren’t beautiful. Ruggedly handsome, maybe, but not beautiful.” His hands stroked down to cup her rear, to bring her more securely against the heavy heat of his arousal.

  “Okay then, ruggedly handsome. Hot. Studly.”

  He grinned and she nuzzled her face into the dark hair curled across his chest. Then turning to the hollow between neck and shoulder, she gave a soft bite.

  Brad jerked, a low groan vibrating from deep in his throat. “You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

  She lifted her head and gave him a wicked smile. “Really? Then you’ll love this.” She adjusted her position to press more firmly against him, nestling his erection into the moist heat at her core.

  Brad sucked in a deep breath and he surged against her. “God, Emmaline.”

  The kaleidoscope of emotions swelled and she gave herself to the moment. This was beyond anything she had ever experienced, the sensations intensified by love. Feelings for Brad overwhelmed her and making love with him only enhanced the euphoria.

  He took her mouth in a long kiss, his tongue sliding along hers. In a movement that brought him more forcefully against her, he gripped her hips firmly and rolled her onto her back, careful to keep his weight off her bandaged thigh. When he pushed back to tug her t-shirt over her head, Emma groaned at the delicious pressure the movement created.

  With a hungry expression, Brad removed the last of their clothing. He lay over her and she marveled at how perfectly they fit together. She rubbed her hands in long strokes down his back and over firm buttocks, the sensuous feel of skin on skin intoxicating. He shifted to the side so he could put long fingers to good use, sliding between her folds, circling her most sensitive spot, until she felt ready to splinter apart. “Now, Brad.”

  His eyes, dark and purposeful, held hers. “You’re sure?”

  She raised her head to press a kiss against his chin. “Yes.” He reached out a long arm for the drawer in his nightstand, but she stopped him. “I’m on the pill, Brad. And clean.”

  “Thank God. I’m clean, too.”

  He made love with the same intense focus he seemed to do everything else. She was pleased to find he was extremely thorough. Dark eyes intent as if he wanted to capture every nuance of her expression, he filled her with a long, slow thrust. Hands clasping hers against the pillow, he pushed deep, withdrew, and thrust again, building a steady rhythm. Sensations mounted, swelling until almost too huge to bear. She slipped her hands out of his to clutch at his rear to pull him in tighter, to meet his movements. He picked up the pace, each strong thrust pushing her farther, bringing her that much closer to the peak.

  At the moment she felt like she’d spin out into the universe, he changed the pace, still moving inside her, but slower, stronger. Dipping his dark head, he took the peak of her breast, licking it with his warm tongue, then drawing it into his mouth. Never before had she felt like she was on the edge of shattering into a million tiny pieces. He turned his attention to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the first. The movement of his pelvis rocking into hers propelled her closer and closer to the edge, until their strength and passion fused, turned burning hot, and together they exploded and took the exhilarating plunge together.

  Long moments later, head still spinning mindlessly, she lay beneath him, delighted in his heavy weight. She’d slayed him as surely as he’d conquered her.

  She trailed a lazy hand across his firm backside.

  He shifted and pulled her with him to roll onto his side. He wrapped his arms around her securely, and she cuddled into his delicious warmth, savoring the afterglow of incredible lovemaking. She’d nearly dozed off when the loud buzz of his cell phone intruded like an angry insect.

  “Damn.” Under her cheek, muscles stretched when he reached for the phone. “Gallagher.” He paused to listen, then said, “Don’t let the lawyer in to see him until I get there. It’ll be an hour.”

  He set the phone down again before turning back to her. His fingers threaded through the hair at her temple. His intense expression had nerves fluttering in her belly.

  “Emmaline.” His touch traveled across her cheekbones, down her nose, along her lips.

  “Bradley.”

  She reached up a hand to lace her fingers through his. They lay for several long moments, enjoying the closeness. He dipped his head to kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Do you think you could stay right here until I get back? Naked and everything?” With his lazy grin he looked spectacularly pleased with himself.

  She laughed. “You do hav
e an interesting imagination, Chief Gallagher. And while this has been quite enjoyable, I think we both have things to attend to.”

  He groaned. “I thought you might say something like that.”

  His eyes lit with an idea. In seconds he was out of bed and had her scooped into his arms. He strode into the bathroom and, with her holding tight to his shoulders, reached into the shower to turn on the water. While he waited for the water to run hot, he distracted her, first with a kiss to the bruise on her temple, then to her breasts, tongue and lips attending to one, then the other.

  She moaned, restless in his arms. “Brad, I can’t stand it. Let me—”

  He quieted her with a firm kiss, adjusted the taps, and then stepped into the shower. He set her on her feet and, using his body to shield her from the spray, gently worked the bandage off her leg. He got rid of the used dressing, then picked up the bar of soap. His eyes lost their playful look when he used strong, sure strokes to work up a lather. Steam billowed and slick hands smoothed over back, buttocks, hips, until she felt hot and needy.

  “God, Brad, this is insane.” She didn’t know how she could be so ready so soon, his need clearly matching hers. She took the soap from him, lathered her hands, and slid them over the heavy muscles of his torso, savoring the contours of chest and abdomen. He ground his teeth when she reached lower. He let her fondle and stroke his rigid length until his patience seemed to snap. Suddenly she found herself hoisted, then supported against the shower wall until he lowered her onto him. Hot water pounded as they joined, caught in an age-old rhythm.

  Long minutes later, spent, she leaned limply against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. Brad leaned over her, hands supporting her, eyes closed as a last shudder wracked his body. When he opened them, the intensity hadn’t waned. “You have to know what we have is extraordinary, Emmaline.” He gently lowered her legs, holding her until she was steady.