* * *
Erin had never dreamed lovemaking could be like this. Never dreamed her body and heart could be so intricately entwined—or so at odds. Never dreamed both could betray her so thoroughly.
"Nick…"
Fierce waves built low in her belly, shaking her from the inside out. He was making her lose control again. He was making her feel things she didn't want to feel. Physically. Emotionally.
"McNeal."
She opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her. The intensity of his gaze devastated her. She tried to hide what she knew in her heart to be true, what she felt in her body, but he'd somehow stripped her bare with those dark, knowing eyes, and looked into her soul, where all her secrets lay in a neat, endless row.
"That's never happened to me before," she whispered. "I mean, I've never … lost control like that."
"You've never…"
Embarrassment washed over her, but the need to tell him, to confess that she'd never before experienced her full sexuality, was stronger. She wanted him to know he'd just taken her to a beautiful, elusive place she'd never ventured. "I've … never … I mean, I've never…"
His eyes darkened with sudden understanding and he smiled. "Well, I'm honored to be the first."
Even through her embarrassment, she felt a smile emerge. "Don't let it go to your head."
"Ah, I already have."
"Why did you … I mean, why did you … make it happen for me that way?"
"It's been a long time for me. I think this is probably going to end … quickly. I didn't want it to be … one-sided."
His openness and his willingness to share something so very personal with her touched her deeply. "It hasn't been one-sided."
She could feel his rock-hard erection against her hip, and her own body clenched with anticipation. She knew getting involved with him was a mistake. She knew what it would cost her both personally and professionally. Her job. Possibly her career. She tried to convince herself those were the only things nagging at the back of her mind. But Erin knew her heart was at risk as well.
Nick Ryan was the kind of man she could fall in love with.
The thought terrified her. Thrilled her. Sent slow fingers of panic climbing up her spine.
So what if she admired and respected him? So what if she was attracted to him beyond reason? None of those things constituted love, did it? Toss in his inability to accept her being a cop, and she had a disaster on her hands.
As long as she didn't fall in love with him, she would be just fine. As long as she could walk away when this was over, she'd survive.
So why didn't that make her feel any better?
Her thoughts scattered when he kissed her. Shutting her eyes against the emotion closing in on her, she kissed him back with everything she was worth. She didn't want their relationship to get any more complicated than it already was. She'd already compromised a staunch personal rule by getting this close to him. She couldn't afford to let her feelings get tangled up, too.
"I've got to get inside you," he whispered. "Now."
Erin barely heard him for the pounding of blood in her ears. Her heart fluttered when he moved over her. Her entire body quaked when she opened to him.
"You're shaking," he said.
"This—what's happening—scares me, Nick."
"And to think I had you pegged as a risk taker." A tentative smile softened the hard lines of his mouth.
"Maybe this is a bigger risk than either of us bargained for."
"I'll never hurt you, Erin."
"I know." She knew he meant it. Just as she knew he couldn't keep that promise.
"Look at me," he said. "I want to see you when we become one."
His gaze burned into her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't look away. His eyes were dark with passion and shockingly beautiful.
He protected them both, and then every pleasure center in her body exploded when he entered her. There was an instant of discomfort as she adjusted to his size, then blistering heat, blinding sensation. She accepted him, rising to meet him. Slowly, he began to move within her. Pleasure screamed through her. She cried out his name. Once. Twice. Then her mind simply went blank. The powers of speech left her. She couldn't think for the sensations streaming through her. The waves built endlessly, crashing over her, through her, until she was tumbling out of control.
She had never imagined it could be like this between a man and a woman. Two human beings, joined together as one, sharing intimacies, trading hearts, maybe even their souls.
Nick moved her as no other man ever had. As no other man ever would again, she knew. He took her senses to the limit. Shattered all the barriers she'd so carefully erected. Broke her self-control. Claimed her heart.
And as she tumbled into another earth-shattering free fall, she knew her life had been changed forever.
* * *
Nick assured himself this was just sex. Mind-blowing, brain-numbing, body-jarring sex. The clenching in his chest every time he looked into the green depths of her gaze was nothing more than affection. Dammit, he didn't want it to be anything more.
He figured they both knew it was more than either of them had bargained for.
How on earth was he going to handle this?
Gritting his teeth against the pleasure building inside him, clenching his jaw against the crushing emotion in his chest, he took her to another climax. Erin cried out and shuddered beneath him. Sweat slicked their bodies, sealing him to her. She gazed up at him, pleasure glazing her eyes. She was incredibly responsive, so exquisite he didn't want it to end. But he couldn't stave off the inevitable.
Closing his eyes, he crushed his mouth to hers. She accepted him, and he went deeper, kissing her, filling her, touching the deepest, most intimate part of her. And he knew nothing would ever be the same.
Physically spent, emotionally shaken by the sheer power of their lovemaking, he eased onto his side and pulled her into his arms. She felt so good against him, he thought he might just stay like this forever. He fully intended to make love to her again—as soon as he could move. But he wasn't sure when that would be, considering every muscle in his body had turned to mush.
The wetness of tears on his shoulder sent a spike of concern through him. "McNeal?"
She tried to turn away, but Nick put his hand beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to his. Alarm quivered through him when he saw her team. "Hey, honey, what's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"I'm fine." She blinked, and another tear rolled down her cheek. "I never cry like this…"
"Honey, if I hurt you—"
"No, it's just…"
"Something I said?"
She shook her head.
Nick suppressed the swirl of panic in his gut. "Why are you crying?"
"I don't know. I just … am."
Like that made any sense. "All right." It seemed like the right thing to say, but he didn't have a clue what was going on. "Look, Erin, if I said something, or hurt you in any—"
She choked out a laugh and raised her eyes to his. "You didn't hurt me, Nick."
He stared at her, not understanding.
"You made me feel. I mean, you really made me feel … incredible. What we just shared … it was like magic. Not just the physical part, but … all of it. It moved me. That's never happened to me before."
A more powerful wave of panic surged through him. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. Not when his own emotions were so close to the surface he could feel them tightening around his throat like a noose. Not when she looked so fragile and sexy snuggled up against him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes teary.
She wiped at her tears. "I can't believe I'm … losing it like this just because we—"
"Had sex," he finished quickly.
"Right." She nodded vigorously. "We did. Have sex, I mean."
Silence reigned for a moment, then Nick felt the laugh in his chest break free. When Erin looked up at him and smiled, he laughed harder. Then she was
laughing with him, a soft, musical sound that made him feel more alive than he'd felt in years. He laughed until tears streamed from his own eyes, and he felt giddy and weak.
When their laughter had dwindled to an occasional giggle, he cradled her against him and brushed his lips across her temple. "It blew my mind, too, McNeal," he said.
"I'm really glad I'm not the only one who noticed." She dazzled him with another smile. "I'd forgotten how powerful … sex can be."
"Maybe we're just out of practice."
"You know, Nick, we could probably spend the next couple of hours … you know … getting back into the swing of things."
He chuckled. Simultaneously, a wave of affection washed over him. Another more powerful emotion hit him in the gut like a fist. For a moment his throat was so tight he couldn't speak. Not because Erin was the first lover he'd taken since Rita, he realized with a start, but because of the way he felt about the woman he now held in his arms.
"What about you, McNeal?" he asked in a low voice.
"What about me?"
He smiled when she tensed. "Who was the jerk who convinced you a man who cares about you could never accept your being a cop?"
"What makes you think—"
"You, Erin. You've told me in a hundred different ways since I've known you."
For a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. He told himself it didn't matter that she preferred not to share her past with him. He certainly didn't have a claim on her. But he wanted to know what made her tick. Even more, he wanted to know what had made her so cautious.
She smiled, but to Nick it looked uncomfortable. "His name is Warren Prentice, upwardly mobile assistant district attorney extraordinaire."
"I remember the name from my days in Chicago," he said.
"I was a rookie. Fresh out of the academy. Warren prosecuted a case I made the bust on. We worked together and ended up getting … involved. He was older. Ambitious. Slick as oil. On his way to the top in a major way."
Nick did his best to ignore the jealously that nudged through him. "What happened?"
"I was naive and fell really, really hard for him. I never do anything halfway, Nick. It's always all or nothing, even mistakes. I fell for Warren for all the wrong reasons. We'd only known each other for two months when he asked me to marry him."
"You didn't—"
"No, I didn't marry him."
"What happened?"
"A few weeks after he proposed, I was in on another bust. Things got squirrelly. Not for me. I never even drew my weapon, but my partner did. No one got hurt, but the next time I saw Warren he very matter-of-factly told me I would be quitting the department if I wanted to be his wife."
"The old ultimatum."
"The worst part was that I was going to do it. As much as I loved being a police officer, I was going to throw it all away. I had my resignation typed out. I had an interview lined up for a corporate security job. I would have gone through with it if I hadn't realized that giving in to his fears meant sacrificing my dreams. In the end, I walked away."
Nick's temper spiked at the thought of another man trying to control her like that, hurting her. A man she'd obviously loved at the time. "I'm sorry, Erin. That must have been tough."
"It was. I mean, it felt like the end of the world. I got really cautious after that. I haven't … been involved with anyone since Warren and—"
"Whoa." Nick turned to her so he could see her more fully. "Let me get this straight. You haven't been … with anyone for six years?"
Her gaze faltered. "He just left me … cold inside."
"It was his loss," Nick said.
Erin's expression grew thoughtful. "But you know, I think things worked out for the best. I could never give up who I am. Not for anyone."
Her words disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. Not because he didn't admire her determination or her belief in herself—he prized both of those qualities—but because they provoked something inside him he'd just as soon not own up to.
"You don't have to give up who you are to love someone, Erin." His own words shocked him. Not because they weren't true or that he didn't believe them—he believed the statement fully and without question—but because he'd realized for the first time just how well he'd come to understand her.
"No, you don't have to give up who you are," she whispered. "But you do have to be willing to take a certain amount of risk."
Nick didn't want to think of the kind of risks she was referring to. Not when his heart was already on the chopping block and this woman all but had the cleaver in her hands. But God help him, he wanted her again. Wanted her so badly he shook with it. Not just physically, he realized with a start. He wanted more. He needed—
He squelched the thought before it could fully materialize. The repercussions of that line of thinking terrified him, sent a jolt of panic up his spine.
His body had recovered. She'd managed to get his heart rate up again. Well, he was a lot more comfortable having sex than he was talking about whatever was exploding between them.
Without preamble, he reached for her and kissed her hard on the mouth. She went rigid for an instant, then melted against him. Need flashed through him, snapping his control. He plundered her lips. A sound escaped her when he cupped her breasts, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Because as surely as his heart had become entangled with hers, he felt her slipping from his grasp. He told himself it didn't matter. He and Stephanie were better off without her. But not even the denial eased the clench of panic in his chest.
Nick was through talking. He didn't want words or feelings or emotions. He didn't want to care for her; he simply wasn't ready to take on a serious relationship. His logical side told him to put a stop to this before either of them got in any deeper. But his control failed him—not for the first time when it came to Erin. And he knew with the utter dread of a man on death row that it probably wouldn't be the last.
Growling low in his throat, he kissed her harder. Desperation clawed at him. He moved over her. She opened to him. Nick's heart hammered. His vision blurred.
"You don't fight fair, McNeal," he murmured.
"Neither do you."
He protected them and pushed inside her. The world ceased to exist when her liquid heat wrapped around him. Nick saw stars, swirling, exploding, arcing across his vision like tiny meteors. Groaning, he moved within her, fighting what he knew to be true, feeling the consequences of what he'd allowed to happen all the way to the pit of his stomach.
There was no future for them, he told himself. Just this moment of pleasure. Tomorrow he would send her back to Chicago with the two U.S. Marshals. Stephanie would be safe. His own heart would be safe.
And he'd never have to admit that he was falling hard and fast for Erin McNeal.
* * *
Nick wasn't sure what woke him. He lay in the darkness a moment, listening to the sound of distant thunder, aware that his heart was pounding. He didn't remember falling asleep. Didn't remember Erin curling against him…
She snuggled closer, and a wave of tenderness warmed him. Her face was smooth and innocent in the dim light slanting in through the window. The image of her with her head thrown back in ecstasy, her hair spread out on the pillow, came to him like an apparition. His body stirred with the memory. Heat. Urgency. A thousand other feelings and sensations he didn't want to deal with curled inside him, but he shoved them back, disturbed by their power.
Raising his head, he glanced at the alarm clock on the night table. Midnight. He reached for the phone and dialed Hector's cellular. Concern slithered through him when a recording told him the cell phone user had left the service area.
"Damn." Fighting a rise of alarm, Nick sat up and redialed. As he listened to the same recording a second time, alarm transformed into something icy and cold. From memory, he punched in the number of the physical rehab center in Indianapolis. A female clerk answered on the second ring.
"This is Nick Ryan. Has my daughter, S
tephanie Ryan, or Emily Thornsberry checked in yet?"
Computer keys clicked at the other end of the line.
"We've got the reservation, Mr. Ryan, but they haven't checked in yet."
Cursing, Nick disconnected, his mind racing. Hector should have had them checked in by now. Where the hell were they? If they'd run into problems, why hadn't Hector called?
Nick jumped when his cell phone chirped, then he snatched the phone up and curtly uttered his name.
"Chief!"
The fear in his deputy's voice jolted him to red alert. "What's wrong?" he asked, wondering in a small corner of his mind why there was panic in his own voice.
"Two men … armed. They forced us off the road. Tied us up. Damn." Hector's voice broke.
Nick's nerves went taut. A dozen scenarios scrambled through his mind, none of them good. "What happened?"
"They got her, Nick."
Hector didn't need to say who for Nick to know. White-hot terror screamed through him. He didn't remember rising. He didn't remember crossing the room and stepping into his trousers. "Where's Stephanie?"
"They got her, Chief. Good Lord, they took her."
* * *
Chapter 13
« ^ »
Erin woke to panic. She felt it. Sensed it. Smelled it like gunpowder from a killing blast. Pulling the sheets up to cover herself, she sat bolt upright. "Nick?"
He stood amid the darkness on the opposite side of the room. In the sparse light slanting through the window, she could see he had on his slacks, no shirt, his cell phone pressed to his ear. A slow spiral of dread bored a hole right through her.
"When?" he snapped into the phone.
Erin rolled out of bed and began gathering her clothes. Good Lord, what was going on? Why was Nick on the phone? Why had he been shouting? She looked at her watch. It was just after midnight.
Nick cursed exorbitantly.
Even from across the room, Erin could hear him breathing. She stepped into her jeans, then tugged her T-shirt over her head. "Nick, what is it? What's happened?"
"Oh, no," he said into the darkness. "Oh, no. No!"
Erin flipped on the light. "Nick?"