She watched him invade her room, wariness glimmering in the depths of her eyes. “There’s not a whole lot left to say.”
He stopped an arm’s length away and saw the pulse at the base of her throat flutter nervously. “You left out a little detail.”
“Oh?” A delicate brow arched. “And what was that?” She took a subtle step to the side, as if he stood too close, crowding her personal space. As if she wanted clearance to bolt…
He wasn’t about to give her the chance. Calculating her next move, he shifted the weight of his body accordingly, letting her know without words that there would be no escaping him, or their conversation.
“Moving on to where, Paige?” His voice was soft, de ceptively so.
Since she couldn’t dart around him, she turned away hiding her expression and those luminous eyes that radiated her deepest emotions. Slipping off the bracele made of incandescent beads that complemented the color of her dress, she set it on the dresser, then re moved the matching earrings. Very quietly, she said “I’ve decided to move back home to Connecticut, so can be near my family.”
Outwardly, Josh accepted her bombshell with admi- rable calm. Inwardly, however, panic spread through him, sending his pulse racing.
He didn’t want to lose Paige!
But you never really had her, the rational part of his mind argued. Even though his feelings for her had de- veloped into something stronger and deeper thai friendship, they’d made no personal commitment to each other, nothing to indicate they had any kind of future together. All they had was one incredible night on passion…
He grasped for leverage, focusing on the one thing that would drastically change both of their lives. “And what if you’re pregnant with my baby?”
She whirled around, startled, eyes wide. Her hand fluttered to her flat belly, and when she realized what she’d done, she quickly jerked it away. “I’m not preg nant,” she said firmly.
“Oh?” His tone challenged. “Have you started your period?”
She hesitated, but in the end couldn’t lie. “Not yet.”
“The day after we made love you said you were due to start soon.” He studied her intently. “Are you regular?”
Her face flushed, whether in embarrassment or annoyance at his persistence, he wasn’t sure. “I haven’t been regular since I went off the Pill when Anthony died,” she admitted. “But I know my body, and I’m not pregnant.”
He wondered who she was trying to convince-him or herself.
She moved past him, while he digested what she’d just told him. She opened the glass slider leading to the deck that wrapped around the house, leaving the screen door locked and secured. A cool evening breeze blew in, circulating fresh air through the room. The low rumbling of waves breaking along the shore echoed in the distance, the sound tranquil and soothing.
He came up beside her, his mood calmer than before. He’d gotten most of the answers he’d wanted, but another still niggled, and he voiced it. “You were on the Pill while you were married?”
She glanced at him, a droll smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “That’s not something a woman broadcasts, Marchiano, even to a good friend.”
He shook his head, realizing she’d misconstrued his meaning. “You talked about having kids and a family, and I just assumed you would have welcomed a pregnancy.”
“I’m afraid that was wishful thinking on my part. During our first year of marriage a huge part of me thought a baby would make Anthony settle down, make him less reckless…” Her voice trailed off. After a moment, her gaze flickered to his, her expression etched with the same unhappiness that had shadowed the last two years of her marriage. “About nine months after we married, Anthony insisted I go on the Pill. He claimed he wasn’t ready for kids and he didn’t want to risk an ‘accident.’ Looking back, going on the Pill was a blessing in disguise, considering the life-style Anthony led outside of our marriage. I’m grateful I don’t have children to worry about right now, and I sure as heck wouldn’t want to have to explain that their father was a criminal.”
A light gust filtered through the screen, sifting through her hair and tugging gently at the light material of her dress, molding the fabric to her curves. Josh envied that clinging dress, wished it were his hands shaping her firm, generous breasts, skimming over the swell of her hips, grazing the length of her slender thighs…
“What about the possibility of having my baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
“That would only complicate matters, Josh.” She released an agitated sigh and paced back into the bedroom. “I’m leaving as soon as things are wrapped up here in Miami. I miss my family, and I miss the simplicity of a small town. It’s where I belong. It’s where I’ve always belonged.” She abruptly stopped beside her four-poster bed, imploring him to understand. “I’m not cut out for the city, the crime, or being a cop’s wife. If I was too naive to know that when I married Anthony, I certainly realize it now.”
Josh felt that an integral part of his life was crumbling right before his eyes. “Maybe you just need more time before you make a big decision like this,” he suggested, anything to buy time for her to reconsider her options. Options that included him being a part of her life. Options that didn’t include her moving to another state. “It’s only been three months since Anthony died. I know how difficult things have been lately, especially this past week-”
“My mind is made up, Josh,” she said adamantly, exercising that stubborn streak he both admired and disliked at the moment. “There’s nothing left for me here but bad memories.”
Fast as lightning, he shot back, “Am I nothing but a bad memory?”
His blunt question startled her. Then her gaze softened and she reached out and pressed her hand to his cheek, her touch warm and infinitely gentle. “You, Josh, have become one of my best friends, and I care for you more than you’ll ever know,” she whispered in a tight, aching voice. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you these past three years.”
Incensed beyond reason, he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away, ignoring her startled catch of breath. Goddammit, he wanted more than cordiality and appreciation. More than her gratitude for being around when Anthony hadn’t been, for giving her the affection her own husband had been too self-centered to offer. He wanted her to acknowledge that they meant more to each other than just friends.
“Josh?”
Her voice trembled with uncertainty. He knew he should let her go and end this craziness, but he had a desperate, overwhelming need to prove that what they’d spent three years nurturing deserved a fair chance to develop into something deeper and more intimate than what they already shared.
With a vicious curse, he plowed his free hand into her hair, cradled the back of her head in his palm, and lifted her mouth to his. She tensed and tried to turn away at the last second, but she was no match for his strength, or the need that coursed through his blood. Their lips touched, melded, fused. He wouldn’t accept anything less. His tongue was just as relentless, gliding deep within her mouth to claim, conquer and cajole her compliance.
Then, even that wasn’t enough. He wanted her total surrender. Wanted to brand her, remind her how sweetly she responded to him, how hot and needy she became beneath his touch.
Still holding her, still kissing her, he guided her backwards, until the edge of the mattress clipped the back of her legs and she had no choice but to tumble onto the bed. He swallowed her gasp as he followed her down, ignored her feeble struggles as he pushed her higher onto the mattress and wedged a hard, muscular thigh between her knees.