Iris Johansen - Deadlock

The door opened, and Garret came outside.

She tensed, straightening against the wall.

He was also tense. She could see the tautness of his face and the contained violence in the bunched muscles of his shoulders.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to jump you," he said. "I'm not even going to try to seduce you. Though God knows I want to do it. I might be able to pull it off. That's one of the skills I studied until I got pretty good at it."

"I'm sure you did." Emily tried to keep her voice even. "It's one of the most necessary talents in a man's repertoire, isn't it?"

"You're damn right." His gaze narrowed on her face. "And it's frus¬trating the hell out of me that I can't use it now. My hands are tied. That son of a bitch, Staunton, tied them, and I can't do anything about it."

"I don't know what-"

"I'm telling you," he interrupted harshly. "You've been one of the walking wounded ever since we came together. How the hell am I go¬ing to get you into bed when I'm afraid you're going to shatter if I put a finger on you?" He reached out his hand and brushed her throat. "Your pulse jumped when I touched you." He rubbed his thumb in the hollow. "And it's going crazy now."

More than crazy. She couldn't breathe. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would jump from her breast.

"And I can't do a damn thing about it," he said between his teeth. "You're the only one who can make the move." His hand dropped away from her throat. "Just know that I want you more than I've wanted any woman in my life. I'm wild for you. I'd never hurt you, and I'd make it good for you. That's all I wanted to say." He turned on his heel and walked across the farmyard toward the road.

She stared after him, her head whirling with the words he'd just spoken.

Walking wounded.

You'd shatter if I put a finger on you. Staunton tied my hands.

She slowly turned and went back into the house.

SHE SHOULD HAVE WORN HER shoes. Her bare feet were cold on the rough ground as she moved toward the lean-to.

Cold feet. That was almost funny. But she wouldn't be nervous or afraid. She had gone through all that in the hours since she'd left Gar¬rett. Now the time for nerves was over. Then why did she still feel them, dammit?

She opened the door of the lean-to. "Garrett."

"Come in." He was half-lying, half-sitting, propped up against the wall. "Quick." He lifted the quilt covering him. "Let me get you warm. I didn't expect you to be running around in a tee shirt."

She dove forward and under the covers. "I didn't really think about it. I just decided to come." She stiffened as she realized he was naked. "And you have less on than I do. You were expecting me?"

"I was hoping." His lips brushed her ear. "But I always sleep naked."

Dear God, she was trembling. His body was hard, hot, ready against her.

"You're shaking." He turned her over to look down at her. "It's so dark in here, I can't see you. Are you afraid?"

"For Pete's sake, I've never been afraid of you." She reached down and pulled her tee shirt over her head and threw it aside. "And I won't shatter. And, if I was among the walking wounded, it was never sexu¬ally." She pulled him down and then arched upward with a little cry as her breasts touched his chest. "And I won't allow Staunton to tie your hands. I want them moving over me. Get busy."

He chuckled. "Right. Whatever you say." His hand moved be¬tween her legs. "Like this?"

She inhaled sharply. "Yes."

"Maybe we should go to your room. I made sure this pallet was clean, but that's all it is." He was rubbing, manipulating. "You'd be more comfortable."

"No." She arched as he went deep. "This is fine."

"You're not cold?"

"Are you crazy?" No, the bastard was teasing, physically and ver¬bally. "I'm not wounded. I'm not cold. I'm in lust, and you're not do¬ing anything about it." She pushed him back and moved over him. "So I guess I'll have to do it myself."

"I CAN SEE WHY YOU DIDN'T want to go to your bedroom," Gar¬rett whispered. "Dardon would have run into your room gun drawn at the first scream."

"It wasn't a scream." But it had come close, Emily thought as she tried to get her breath. "It was a prolonged, loud, exclamation."

"I liked it. Call it anything you please." He was curved spoonlike against her back, and his hand was rubbing her belly. "I made you do it. You liked what I did to you."

Liked? She had been out of her mind every time they had come together. She was still out of her mind. Just his hand rubbing her flesh was causing it to start all over again. "You're not bad, Garrett."

"Not bad? I'm obviously going to have to up my efforts a notch. I want to impress you."

Oh, he had impressed her. She had tried to protect herself by mak¬ing light of it, but she had to be honest. He had given her more than she had expected, more than she had thought she needed. She was silent a moment, trying to find the words. "You made me feel… alive again, Garrett," she whispered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured. "But I didn't do anything much in that direction. You're the most beautifully alive person I've ever known. It was what I saw when I first saw your picture in the newspa¬per. Full of life and character and a sort of luminous joy." He kissed the tip of her ear. "I think that's why I got so pissed that you'd been taken and I had to go after you."

"There are so many little things that make us what we are. The memories, the way we face sorrow and disasters, the people we reach out to. I thought I was back, but there was still a numbness there. I couldn't make contact. I guess I haven't felt really alive since-" She stopped. "I hadn't even realized what I'd lost. But tonight I felt alive. My body felt beautiful and clean, and you made me feel as if I was very special."

"And so you are."

He didn't understand. She wasn't sure she could make it clear what he'd given her. It was more than likely it had just been a great roll in the hay to him. She was probably embarrassing him. She'd had to put it into words but it would be better to back away. "Of course, I am," she said lightly. "I'm glad you recognize it."

"I couldn't help it." He moved his hand to her throat and began lightly rubbing the hollow of her throat. "For instance, your flesh is very sensitive. Particularly here." He smiled as he felt the pulse leap be¬neath his touch. "Extraordinarily sensitive. It's good to know that no matter where we are, what we're doing, all I have to do is slip my hand under your blouse and you'll be ready for me in a heartbeat."

"Don't count on it." But it didn't sound very sincere when she could hardly get her breath.

"I am counting on it." He turned her over on her back. "Because you're going to back away. You're going to be afraid you'll lose your focus. I'll just have to bring you back. I know all the ways now. You know how good we are together. Every chance I get, I'll remind you."

"What about your focus?"

"I can keep my focus. There's no need denying ourselves this. That would give Staunton a victory." He moved over her. "You said you didn't want him to tie my hands." His fingers were moving, brushing, pressing. "I promise he's not going to do that, Emily…"

"I'VE GOT IT!"

The door of the lean-to was thrown open, letting in bright day¬light and Pauley.

He stopped short, his gaze on Emily. "Oops."

"Oops, indeed." Garrett drew the blanket over Emily and raised himself on one elbow. "You could have knocked."

"I was excited. And I didn't know you weren't alone." Pauley made a face. "Sorry, Emily."

"It's okay." She was looking around for the tee shirt she had dis¬carded all those hours ago. "Why are you excited?"

"Not for the same reason Garrett was excited," he said ruefully. "Lucky man. I wish I'd spent the night here instead of staring at that computer."