Falling For Mr. Dark & Dangerous Page 8

  “He fired. We fired back. You have to understand. All our intel said that he was home alone, we had no reason not to trust it. But he wasn’t. There was a woman. His daughter. She took a round and was killed.”

  It all came out like an official report. He looked away. “So now you know.”

  “Did you shoot her?”

  He licked his lips. “Me personally? No.”

  “Then why do you carry the burden?”

  Wasn’t it enough that she had the truth? Why did she have to keep asking questions? It didn’t matter who had pulled the trigger. It had been a fatal error.

  “It was my team, Maggie. I was in charge.”

  “It was a mistake, a tragic mistake.”

  His hands pulled away from the loops and his fingers tightened. “You don’t get it. I can’t make mistakes. Would you say the same thing if it had been Jen in her shoes? If it had been your daughter who’d been killed?”

  Nate turned and escaped out the door on to the veranda, into the blessed coolness of winter air. Telling Maggie had only made him angry again. He should have foreseen. There simply wasn’t room for that kind of error in his job. Worrying about killing someone, the wrong person, or losing a member of the team far outweighed the feeling of personal danger.

  His boss had made the leave nonnegotiable, even though all Nate wanted to do was get back in the field. He needed work, not time off to think of all the things he’d done wrong.

  Then, the leave had become part of his cover and he resented it. It was over and done with. He’d learned from his mistake. Now he wanted to move on. He sure as hell didn’t like—or want—the look of sympathy he’d seen on Maggie’s face.

  Maggie came out behind him, pulling a shawl over her shoulders. She put a hand on his arm and he pulled away.

  “Nate, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

  “Now you know and can stop asking.”

  She took a step backward at his harsh tone and he hated himself more for hurting her, too. This was exactly why he wished he could just tell her why he was here and forget all the secrecy.

  He didn’t like lying to Maggie. He could argue with himself and say he hadn’t lied, that he’d stretched the truth, but it was the same thing. And the last thing he needed was her pity. But he couldn’t tell her his assignment and protect her, too. He knew which was more important.

  “Thank you for telling me.” Her voice was quietly apologetic. At least his answers seemed to have satisfied her. As she turned and went back inside, he shook off the guilt at smudging the lines of truth. She’d accepted his story completely, and he’d done his job. As much as he hated it, the truth of his “leave” had satisfied her.

  He swallowed, not knowing how to patch things up, knowing they should or else the next several days were going to be torture. He followed her as far as the doorway.

  “You’ve got to understand something, Maggie. This is what I do. I’m a marshal and I do my job and if there are consequences to that, I deal with them.”

  She turned and faced him for a moment, and the warmth from before vanished. “That’s very clear,” she murmured. And she walked away from him.

  His hand smacked the pillar of the porch in frustration. He hated dishonesty. With a passion. Yet this wasn’t about being honest. It was about protection. Protection for her, for himself, for the whole community if it came to that. It was a big picture thing. Shifting the truth shouldn’t be a big deal. Maggie was temporary in his life. There wasn’t room for feelings.

  But as he remembered how her lips had clung to his last night, he felt guilt crawl through him anyway.

  Guilt because she was, in a sense, part of the job and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms again.

  Right now the best thing to do was keep his distance.

  Maggie hefted the grocery bags in her arms, balancing them carefully so she could still use her keys to get in the house. It was midafternoon; she’d still have time to make the steak and Guinness pie she had planned for dinner. Mealtimes were the only times she saw Nate now. He ate in the morning, took a bagged lunch and spent the whole day outside. The weather was warming, hovering just below zero, and soon the snow would melt enough that he wouldn’t be able to use snowshoes or cross-country skis anymore. He came back tired, ate his dinner and spent evenings in his room. The few times she’d spoken to him after 7:00 p.m., he’d either been reading or sitting at his laptop.

  She’d been wrong to push. She knew it now, had known it as soon as she’d touched his arm and he’d pulled away.

  It was good that he was keeping his distance. Because the more she saw him, the more confused she became.

  How could the one thing she disliked about him also be the one thing that seemed to attract her? She shook her head even though no one was there to see her. The last thing she wanted was to be involved with someone in law enforcement. Then why did she find it so unbearably sexy? It was just as well their flirting had stopped.

  Her key turned easily in the lock; the door was open. She frowned. She was sure she’d locked the dead bolt when she left.

  She put the bags down on the porch and eased inside. The first thing she noticed were Nate’s big boots on the mat by the door. She exhaled, relieved. It was only Nate, then.

  He appeared around the corner and she tried a smile, hoping eventually he’d thaw out and treat her to one of his own and they could reach some level of comfort. “You’re back early,” she said easily. “So…how did you get in? I suppose doing what you do, you know all the tricks, right? What was it? Credit card? File and pick?”

  He held up a hand. “Spare key. You really shouldn’t leave it in so obvious a place.”

  There was something off. She sensed it. He didn’t smile, but there wasn’t a tone of chastisement in his voice, either. It wasn’t about where she’d put her key. It was something else.

  She shut the door, forgetting the groceries sitting outside. “What is it?”

  He came forward and her heart started beating faster, a thread of apprehension skimming over her limbs. Whatever it was didn’t look good; his face was tight and drawn.

  “Jen called.”

  It seemed as though her heart tripped over itself as her breath caught and held, strangling her.

  “There was a stabbing on campus.”

  The life went out of Maggie’s limbs. She felt the floor coming up to meet her when Nate’s arms caught her full weight.

  “God, Maggie!”

  Her head spun, dizzy. Jen. Jen. Jen.

  “Maggie. Snap out of it.”

  His voice came from far away, swimming in the back of her brain.

  “Maggie!”

  He gave her a shake and she met his gaze, not quite seeing. “Maggie! She’s fine. She’s fine.”

  Maggie nodded dumbly.

  “Look at me.”

  He was on his knees, holding her on his thighs, bracing her with an arm. His free hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look upward. His eyes, darkened with worry, anchored her. She clung to them as she tried hard to make sense of his words.

  “Maggie. Clear your mind,” he ordered. Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Think. If she weren’t okay, she couldn’t have called.”

  It got through. She nodded, letting out her breath and willing some of the panic to release its grip.

  Jen was okay.

  “I’m sorry. It was a stupid reaction,” she stammered.

  “I understand. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He held her with firm hands, taking her weight.

  She became aware of the hardness of his legs beneath her, the tight grip of his hands on her arms. She should pull away but she still felt so shaky she didn’t trust herself to get up. It felt too right, letting him carry the weight for a while. So long since she’d allowed herself to lean on anyone.

  He pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin and stroking her back soothingly. “I never thought of how you’d react. I should have, knowing your history. I should have sai
d she was fine first. God, Maggie, you dropped like a rock.”

  “I feel stupid.” His hand was warm and she let herself absorb it, drawing strength from it.

  “Don’t.”

  And then she felt it. A smile that she could picture creasing his face, moving against her hair. She closed her eyes, relief sluicing through her, ridiculously happy that he wasn’t angry with her anymore. “I thought you were mad at me.” He’d hardly spoken to her since the night she’d pried into his past.

  “Not at you. Maybe just…angry in general.” He kissed her hair lightly and her eyes sprung open. He pushed her away slightly. “Are you all right now?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “I’d meant to tell you that she called because she didn’t want you to see it on the news and worry. But you didn’t give me a chance.”

  She pushed out of his arms and stood up, feeling at once the loss of the security found in his arms. “I don’t know why I did that.”

  He hopped up from his crouched position. The last thing she expected from him was gentleness, not after the way things had been strained for several days. His fingers touched her cheek, stroking softly.

  “I think you know exactly why it happened. You said yourself, you’ve suffered a lot of loss. Do you want to talk about it?”

  She looked up into his eyes. He’d passed an olive branch and it was up to her whether or not to accept it. But she didn’t talk about her past. No one wanted to hear about it. “Let’s face it, Nate. My story’s a bit of a downer. It’s no big deal.”

  Another smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You know, that sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “Touché.”

  He let her go, but she felt more connected to him than she ever had before, even more than being held in his arms or kissed. “I’ll think about it. For right now, I’m going to bring the bags inside and call Jennifer.”

  “She’s a good kid, Maggie. She knows how much you care and worry. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have thought to call you.”

  Tears stung her eyes. How he seemed to know what she needed to hear was uncanny. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot.”

  “Anytime.”

  She turned her back to him so he couldn’t see the naked yearning on her face. Jennifer’s welfare was such a hot button for her. The best thing she could do now was leave before she bawled all over him, so she started toward the stairs. He had no idea how tempted she was to take him up on his offer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “MAGGIE. Wait.”

  “Just leave me alone, Nate. Please. I’m fine.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, blinking back tears. She wasn’t. She was embarrassed, vulnerable, feeling like a fool. Nate kept seeing her falling apart and he kept picking up the pieces. It was becoming a disturbing trend, and one she needed to put to an end. He was, by trade, a protector. He wasn’t her protector.

  She hadn’t realized he’d come up behind her until his hand, wide and warm, fell on her shoulder, kneading gently. “I’m the one that saw your face. The one that caught you as you collapsed. You’re not okay. You might as well tell me and get it out.”

  She tried to exhale but the air came out in shaky jolts, the very sound tearing her apart a little more with each breath. She was so tired. Tired of being afraid, tired of pretending. All it did was exhaust her. He put his other hand on her right shoulder, both hands now massaging gently.

  The caring touch ripped away any shred of control she had left, and she dropped her head, two tears splashing over her lashes and down her cheeks. She tried to sniff them away, but failed miserably.

  “Please don’t be kind. I can’t bear it.”

  “Why?”

  The question was what she needed, something to shift the focus from his hands on her shoulders. She turned to face him, straightening her shoulders. “You want reasons? Let’s start with the fact that you’re here for a few weeks and then gone again. You’re just passing through, Nate, and we both know it. And then…well there’s the whole cop thing. You’re a marshal first and foremost, as you so eloquently pointed out the other day. Not to mention you’re…” She paused, her cheeks flushed as she blurted out, “You’re nearly a decade younger than I am!”

  The words echoed in the hall. She lowered her voice. “And that’s the last thing I need. Or want.”

  “Did I imply that this was something more?”

  She huffed. “Imply? Constantly! Starting with the first night when you kissed my finger!”

  She gaped when a smile curled his lips and he leaned against the banister.

  “Ah, yes. When you grew so flustered you dropped your cup. And you should know I couldn’t care less about your age. It’s just a damned number.” He slid a few inches closer and she instinctively backed up.

  “Don’t flirt with me, Nate. We’re both past that.”

  His smile faded. “I only wanted to help you and you’re making this my fault. Perhaps you can explain that.”

  How on earth could she explain that being with him made her feel more vulnerable than she could ever remember being? His profession threatened her. And her attraction for him was equally as frightening. Because she was undeniably attracted to all those things that scared the daylights out of her.

  And those fears blended with the hurts of the past and the result was a woman who was incapable of making sense of it all and threatened to be overwhelmed. Above all, the urge to let him help was so strong.

  “I can’t do this. I can’t cry all over a guest. And that’s what you are, though I seem to keep forgetting it. Please…just let me be.”

  But he ignored her plea. He captured her hand and pulled. “I think we both know that I’m not just a guest. Not anymore.” He tugged again, pulling her into the strong circle of his arms.

  Oh, the warmth of him, the smell…her own laundry soap blended with his aftershave and that little bit of something that was just him. She couldn’t fight him any longer. Emotions that had been building ever since Jennifer’s arrest last year snapped and let go. Defeated, Maggie turned her head against his chest and let the tears come. Nate’s shoulders relaxed and he tucked her against him, holding her while she finally let everything spill out.

  Maggie knew it was wrong, but it felt right. Why now, after all this time, did she finally feel connected to someone? There were so many reasons why he was wrong for her. He was a man who lived for his work, and thought nothing of putting himself in danger. He had his life ahead of him. They didn’t even live in the same country.

  And in a very short time, he’d be gone. She was shocked to find, in the circle of his arms, that she would miss him when he was gone.

  But she had right now, and she burrowed deeper into his chest, letting the clean scent of him surround her. Letting his body form a cocoon as the slightest bit of healing trickled into her body.

  The tears abated and she became aware of his hand running up and down her back, slowly, firm and sure. She needed him on so many levels. Desire filled the raw, aching hole and she was tempted to channel everything into a physical manifestation. But that would be wrong.

  His lips touched her ear and she turned toward them. He spoke instead.

  “Trust me, Maggie,” he whispered, and she shivered. “You need to talk to someone. And I’m here.”

  She wanted to trust him. It was part of the problem.

  Maggie made herself pull away and look up into his face. He’s beautiful, she thought, stunned. Not just his body, not just the color of his eyes, the strong line of his lips or the cleft in his chin. But beautiful on the inside. Strong, yes, and stubborn. But principled and caring and compassionate. She wanted to share everything with him. Needed to. She’d pushed it down, pretended that the past didn’t exist to everyone but herself. She couldn’t do it anymore.

  “What do you want to know?”

  His lips curved ever so slightly. “Whatever you want to tell me. I want to know how Maggie Taylor ended up here. I want…”

  He
stopped and swallowed. Maggie’s heart held a moment, waiting for what he’d say next. When he answered, it was as if he were touching her even though they were separated by inches.

  “I want to know everything about you.”

  Maggie chafed her arms, already missing the warmth of his body. She was so tired. Tired of being governed by fear. She needed this.

  “Then I’ll tell you. Let’s get a drink and start a fire. You might want to settle in for the duration.”

  He smiled. “One fire coming up.”

  Maggie got glasses and a bottle of rye whiskey from the cupboard. When she went into the living room, flames were licking warmly in the gas fireplace and Nate was sitting on the sofa, his elbows braced on his knees, staring into the orange blaze.

  “Here. Hold these.”

  He held the glasses while she poured a small amount in the bottom of each one, then put the bottle down on the coffee table. She took a seat next to him, sipping the liquor. It warmed a path to her stomach and she closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Maggie. I know you lost your parents and your husband, but that really only scratches the surface.” Nate’s voice touched her and she opened her eyes. He held her gaze so she couldn’t back away. “There’s clearly more. Like why it still hurts so much. How it’s shaped you into who you are, how you got to be owner of a bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere, looking after everyone else instead of yourself.”

  Maggie tucked her left foot under her leg, leaning back against the cushions. She had told herself that telling him, no matter how close they seemed to get, would be crossing a line. But they’d already crossed several lines with the kiss and with her sobbing all over him. Perhaps if he knew…really knew…who she was, it would actually have the opposite effect. Part of her wished it would be so. That perhaps the details would be sufficient to keep him at arm’s length. What man wanted a woman still grieving for her loss and paralyzed by fear? It would be easier for her to resist him if he resisted her first.

  And the other part of her yearned for him to listen, to understand, to accept.