Falling For Mr. Dark & Dangerous Read online

  “The beginning? Things were pretty normal for me growing up, until my parents died when I was a teenager and I had to look after myself.” She took another fortifying sip of the rye. It sounded cut-and-dried now, but her whole world had been ripped apart, changing everything. She was no longer someone’s daughter. She’d become Maggie, the orphan, trying to find her way.

  “How did they die?”

  “In a car accident.”

  His free hand dropped to her knee, stayed there. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Didn’t you have anywhere to go?”

  She smiled sadly. “Not really. And seeing I was the age of majority, I looked after myself. Got a job. Tried to make some sense of things.”

  “And then?”

  She looked down at the sight of his hand on her leg, wished fleetingly it didn’t feel quite so good. She didn’t feel like she was burdening him with prolonged grief. Nate didn’t know her family, her friends. Knowing she could speak freely without the guilt she often felt when talking to others was a relief, and the words came easier with every breath.

  She lifted her head and their eyes met. There was no pity on his face. She wouldn’t have been able to take that. But there was compassion and patience and she was grateful for it. The tension abated in her neck.

  “Then I met Mike. He is my second cousin, the son of a cousin who had a baby far too young and made really bad choices, which resulted in Mike being put in foster care.” She looked away from his hand and up into his eyes. “When I met him, I was twenty-two and he was eleven, still being bounced from home to home. And I suppose I thought, here is someone who is my flesh and blood, someone who knows what lonely means. It was the only hint of family I had and I needed to cling to it. Hadn’t realized it until he was standing there in front of me.”

  “You needed him as much as he needed you.”

  Maggie nodded. She had. Mike had given her purpose. She doubted he knew to this day how much.

  “I was working steadily, had an apartment in Sundre. I petitioned the court for guardianship and I got it. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or Mike.”

  “You became each other’s family.”

  “Yes, I suppose we did. Mike was a good kid, he was just scared. Didn’t trust people much and I couldn’t blame him. I did the best I could, but heck, I was young, too, and still raw from all I’d been through. I met Tom. Mike was a teenager when we got married and had Jen. I suppose he felt in the way after that, although he never said anything about it. Mike never talked about things like that much.” She smiled at Nate. “Sounds like someone else I know. Anyway, by the time he graduated, he was rodeoing in season and working odd jobs in the off-times.”

  Her smile turned wistful. “I didn’t think he’d ever find anyone to trust his heart to, but he did.”

  “Like you did with Tom?”

  Maggie suddenly realized that she’d been talking, really talking, more than she’d planned. Maybe it was the fire, or the liquor, or the fact that Nate was safe and comfortable. Regardless, this afternoon they had turned a corner. Somewhere in the mess of confusion she’d made the decision to stop fighting and it shocked her to realize how quickly she’d dropped her guard.

  But now Nate had turned the subject to Tom and it was different than talking about Mike. She wasn’t sure she could go on. Certainly not as easily as she’d talked about her cousin. Tom had done for her what Grace had done for Mike. Given her a place to put her heart for safekeeping. Or so she’d thought.

  Losing him had been the most devastating thing she’d ever been through, and it had taken every ounce of her strength to put her life back together. Even now, pieces were missing and it was incredibly painful. A memory flashed through her mind, not of Tom, but of Nate kissing her in the kitchen. The sheer beauty of it had scared her to death. It couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t feel like that again. The last time she’d had that depth of feeling, she’d ended up being crushed beneath it. It was an odd position to be in, trusting Nate yet needing to push him away.

  Surely talking about one’s dead husband would make any man put on the brakes.

  “Yes. I did trust my heart to Tom.”

  “And then he died and you were left with Jen.”

  Her throat closed up a bit and she nodded.

  “Come here.”

  Nate took her glass away and deposited it on the table with his own. Shifting, he leaned back against the arm of the sofa, running one leg along the inside edge. She knew she should keep her distance, but he felt too good. Unresisting, she let him pull her back until she was cradled in the lee of his legs, his arms around her loosely, his fingers lightly circling her wrists.

  “Oh, Nate.” She sighed, staring into the dancing flames. Why did he have to be so perfect? Why was it that after all this time, Nate Griffith could make her feel things she hadn’t felt in years? Including the need to spill about her past?

  She paused for so long he squeezed her wrist. “You’re thinking too much. Forget the reasons why and just let it out, Maggie. It’s been in there a long time, hasn’t it.”

  She nodded.

  He stroked her wrist bone with his thumb. “Can you tell me about him?”

  Her throat thickened and she swallowed. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice thin in the rich air.

  “I’d like to hear about it, if you want to tell me.” He touched his forehead to her hair.

  “You have to understand that I really don’t talk about Tom. To anyone. Talking about him now…doesn’t come easily.”

  Nate waited.

  Maggie closed her eyes and absorbed the warmth and strength of his body into her soul. Why not tell him and be free of it? He’d be going back to his job in a few weeks and they’d never meet again. He’d forget all about her and her dead husband, after all. What would be the benefit of a quick fling? Because after the way he’d kissed her, she knew that was a distinct possibility. He’d leave her behind and she’d be left hurt, all over again. Because she didn’t do casual, or temporary. And she didn’t do serious relationships, either.

  He was alive, breathing, real. And if she weren’t careful, she’d set herself up for hurt. It would be foolish to do that when it could easily be avoided. Maybe telling them would bring them closer in one way, but it should certainly cool the jets on any attraction between them.

  “I was waitressing and Tom was working the patch.” At Nate’s pause, she amended, “The oil patch. He was doing security at a refinery north of town and used to come in for breakfast and pie in the mornings. The first time we met, I teased him about eating pie at 6:00 a.m.”

  An image flirted with her, Tom, young and energetic, blond and teasing dimples. She realized she’d been sitting for a few moments with a smile of remembrance on her lips. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Go on.”

  “I was trying to raise Mike, and working a couple of jobs to make ends meet. Tom was a breath of fresh air. For our first date, he packed a picnic and waited on me, since, he said, I was always waiting on him. I was twenty-three.”

  Color crept into her cheeks. “I hadn’t planned on life changing so quickly, but I fell hard and fast. I was starved for love and he was everything I could have imagined wanting. We got married three months later. Seven months after that Jen was born.”

  “And you moved here?”

  She nodded. She remembered quite clearly the day he’d brought her here, late in the fall with Jen in a blanket in her arms. She’d been so angry with him when she’d found out he’d already bought it without consulting her. It was stupid, she realized later. Fighting over something so silly, when the truth was she’d adored the place as soon as she’d crossed the threshold. Drafty corners and all.

  “Yes, we came here. He was making good money in the patch, and we could have the house and I could stay home and be with Jen. Maybe even have a few more.”

  Nate lifted his right hand from her arm
, stroking her hair. “You wanted more children.”

  “I did then. He…” She stopped, unsure of how to go on. She did that a lot. She was unused to saying personal things aloud, but it seemed like it was all she’d been doing since Nate arrived. “He fixed something in me that had been broken when I lost my family.”

  “Only then he died, too.”

  “Yeah. And I think that day I realized that it didn’t matter what I did, the people I loved were going to leave me. I only had Jen left.”

  “And that’s why you worry about her so much. You’re waiting for something to happen to her, too.”

  He understood.

  Maggie felt all the panic and tension drain out of her body in one long, flowing river. The fact that it made sense to someone other than herself was liberating. “Yes.”

  Nate closed his eyes and cupped her head in his hand. All the resistance he’d felt vibrating through her body had melted away and she lay against his chest. Trusting, empty.

  She’d been hurt so much. He really hadn’t had any idea of how deep her hurt had gone. Maybe he should have, after today. The truth was he had wanted to know, to feel close to her. He cared about her, and he was shocked to realize it had only taken a few short days for his feelings to be involved.

  But she’d given in easily, told him more than he’d ever expected and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  The one thing he knew for sure, now more than ever, was that he couldn’t be responsible for hurting her again. Maggie Taylor was too precious to be trifled with. He’d never met a woman with more pain, yet so strong. He couldn’t imagine anyone picking up the pieces of their life in the way she had, with a baby and a foster child and a need to make a living. He knew for damned sure he couldn’t be the one to turn that upside down.

  Which made it insanely difficult, because he wanted her more than ever.

  She’d trusted him today and he’d thought it was what he wanted. Now he knew that was a mistake. If she were to find out why he was really here, all that trust would be broken. No, it would have to be done clean. And when he left, it would be with a smile and warm memories of what they’d shared. How they’d helped each other. He felt the sting of irony that the truth would only tarnish the fleeting relationship they’d built.

  It was how it had to be.

  Long moments passed and he simply held her in his arms, felt her breathing, felt their connection growing and expanding. Never before had he felt so comfortable with a woman.

  He looked around the room over the top of her head. Comfortable, welcoming, cozy. Like her. Yet…a blazing fire, a sparkling glass bottle of dark liquid, splashes of color…vibrant. Also like her. A woman who made her living caring for others but one who knew how to stand on her own two feet. A survivor.

  A woman he wanted. Completely.

  But he couldn’t have her. Not after all that had happened today. It would be completely unfair to her, in every way. He felt guilty enough about misleading her about his work. He knew for damn sure he wouldn’t take advantage of her when she was stripped bare. Because he knew she hadn’t told him every detail. He wondered how Tom had died. She hadn’t told him about the troubles she’d had since, or Jen’s brush with the law last year. And he wondered if she’d ever trust him enough to let him in completely.

  So he held her in his arms as the afternoon wore on, wondering how the hell he was going to get through the next week.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  COOKING. He watched her from the doorway, his arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the woodwork. He realized now it was what she did when she was particularly bothered or upset. After the events of the afternoon, he guessed they’d have a fine meal tonight.

  She turned a beef mixture into a casserole as her brows pulled together in a frown. She lifted a fragile square of pastry and laid it over the top of the beef, pricking it with a fork. But he heard the deep sigh that seemed to come from her very toes.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She spun, her hand flying to her chest in surprise. He smiled. At least he could still surprise her.

  “Only a penny?” She tried to joke, but her attempt at a jaunty grin wobbled. It appeared she hadn’t bounced back as well as she was trying to portray.

  “Maggie, are you sure you’re okay?” He dropped his arms and started into the room.

  She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Of course I am.”

  She slid the dish into the oven. Turned and faced him, pasting on a smile that he understood was clearly for his benefit. She wiped her hands on her apron.

  “It’s chinooking. Which means tomorrow you’ll be slogging it out in the muck.”

  He pushed away the urge to simply cross the floor and kiss her. He’d been thinking of it ever since she’d lain in his arms. But she was too raw, he could see that. “Chinooking?”

  Maggie took a dishcloth and began wiping down the counter. “It’s a wind that comes over the mountains, and it’ll melt all the snow that’s left. Some days it seems to blow and blow, but when it’s done, it’ll feel like spring around here.”

  Great. Warmer weather meant walking, and walking in muck. He’d actually hoped the cool weather would prevail a little longer. He frowned. Wished Maggie had an ATV he could borrow. Only then she’d ask why, and where he was going…dammit. Things were growing more complicated by the second.

  “You don’t have a headache, do you?” She took a few steps forward. “A lot of people get them, especially if they’re not used to the pressure change. If your head is bothering you, I have painkillers in the cabinet.”

  She was the fragile one here and she was worried about his headache? The only headache he had wasn’t from the pressure change, but from finding ways to keep his reasons for being here private without telling bald-faced lies. How to remain focused on his job without thinking about her every waking minute.

  He was starting to fall for her, he realized. His head really did start to ache.

  “My head is fine.”

  “Oh.”

  The short, quiet word told him he’d been too harsh and he tried to soften his expression. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. “But thanks for asking.” He pushed his thoughts away and tried a smile. “How long until dinner?”

  “About an hour.”

  Her reply was cool and he guessed she wasn’t quite ready to forgive him for his snappishness. “I guess I’ll go read or something, then.”

  “Nate?”

  He paused. Lord, but she was beautiful. She’d wiped away any trace of her earlier tears and her eyes shone the most perfect shade of blue, like his grandmother’s china bowl on his mom’s cabinet, the one he was never allowed to touch as a boy. Blue Willow, he remembered now. Timeless and beautiful, like Maggie. Her lips were slightly puffed and he wanted to kiss them until they both ran out of breath. His chest tightened, strangling. He wanted to carry her upstairs, undress her, run his fingers over her creamy skin. Make love to her on the homemade quilt until the shadows grew long and disappeared. He wanted to tell her the truth and be free of it. He couldn’t do any of those things.

  She was watching him as though she could read his mind and he shuddered.

  “What, Maggie?” It came out almost a whisper and the line of tension crackled between them.

  She broke eye contact first, and half turned, breaking the spell. “Let’s go for a walk while dinner’s cooking. I’ll show you what a Chinook arch looks like.”

  Getting outside was probably a really, really good idea. Otherwise he’d do something foolish that he couldn’t take back. Like kiss her again. Like tell her how he was feeling. Ridiculous.

  They pulled on boots and jackets, leaving their hats behind and putting their hands in their pockets.

  Once outside, Maggie led him down the driveway to the road. It was paved, but barely. Narrow with no lines printed on it. Just a country road leading to the only place she’d called home in almost twenty years. He was a city boy, born and bred.
The wide-open space, the simplicity of it, was a revelation. He breathed deeply, the sharp wind buffeting his chest. Felt a little of the tension slip away.

  “See that?” She lifted her finger and pointed to the white sweep of clouds in the west. “That’s a Chinook arch. Like a horizontal rainbow of cloud front. I’ve seen it warm over ten degrees Celsius in less than an hour. I’ve seen snow melt so quickly that you’d swear by the sound of the drips that it was raining.”

  “You love it here.” He shook off the feeling of guilt from prying again, torn between caring for her and wanting to see the whole picture. It was like she was trying to forget all about their earlier conversation, and pretend it had never happened.

  She kept walking, and he listened as her footsteps squeaked on the melting snow of the shoulder of the road.

  “I’ve never been anywhere else. This is home.”

  “It’s very different from where I’m from.”

  “Florida?”

  He laughed. He’d only been in Florida for the last few years, although he loved it there and considered it his home base. “I was brought up in Philadelphia. Where my parents are. But yes, Florida, too. Have you ever been?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been to Vancouver. Once.”

  They walked on, Maggie’s hair blown back by the force of the westerly wind. “I always had Jen, and she had school. And during breaks, I always had guests. I’ve never had the chance to travel.”

  His chin flattened. “Until a few weeks ago, and you got saddled with me instead. I’m sorry about that.”

  He loved how she smiled back. It was free of agenda, unfettered by awkwardness and with a hint of growing trust at the corners. Had he inspired that?

  “I’m starting to not regret that quite as much as I did at first.” She tried tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’ve been everywhere, I suppose,” she commented.

  “I’ve been around. The Middle East, Europe with the marines. All over North America with the Marshal Service. But…”