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, Stephanie 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?
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