Leslie Parrish - Pitch Black

“What?”

“The shooting. I didn’t have an affair with a witness, or do anything inappropriate with her.”

Embarrassed that he had so correctly guessed where her suspicious mind had gone, she put a hand up, palm out. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

He ignored her. “We were chasing a man suspected of kidnapping and multiple homicides. I’d gotten friendly with his mother, felt sorry for her, you know?”

Feeling like the world’s biggest witch for what she’d thought of him, she mumbled, “Alec, really…”

“I let my guard down. When we got too close and she knew we were going to nail him, she pulled out a semiautomatic and started firing. I took two in the chest, one in the shoulder. Another agent took one straight through the heart. I came home afterward. He never did.”

Oh, God.

He continued, not hesitating to allow her to express any sympathy she knew he didn’t want. “I’m not telling you this for the tequila, because one shot would put me out for the night and I have a long drive home. I just wanted you to know.” A hint of promise darkened his eyes. “For next time.”

Next time. Meaning he believed there would be a next time. Or, in their case, a first time.

Someday .

“I understand,” she replied softly. “Thank you for confiding in me.”

The trust he had expressed in her, and the knowledge that they had taken a step forward, moving closer to what she thought could be something special, made her want to return the favor. Her fingers curled tightly into fists by her side, she admitted something very few people knew. “I was the one holding the golf club.”

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“I beat up my own laptop.”

“Oh.” Alec didn’t make some flip comment like, Should I be scared? as if knowing what it had cost her to make the admission. And realizing how far she must have been driven.

“My husband’s wasn’t working right…”

“You don’t have to get into this,” he said, echoing what she’d told him.

He hadn’t taken the easy way out. Neither would she. “So he borrowed mine to take on a business trip.”

He shook his head in disgust, obviously knowing where the story was headed. It wasn’t an uncommon one. “Internet porn?”

“Not exactly.”

“Online sex?”

“Yeah. But only as a substitution for the real sex they were having at home.”

“Bastard.”

“His girlfriend didn’t want him to feel too lonely, so she sent lots of pictures. Some of her, some of him, some of them together. All of which I found when I got the laptop back.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, looking as though he wanted to tug her close, but not doing it. As if he knew she needed to get it all out now, if only so they would never have to talk about it again.

“Can’t say I wasn’t a little shocked.” She managed a dry chuckle, surprised she didn’t have to force the laugh. Maybe she really had healed if she could actually find amusement in this for the first time since the night it had happened. “I guess he was lucky not to be there. The computer took the brunt of my seven-iron wrath.”

He wasn’t fooled by the attempt at humor. Shaking his head in disbelief, he said, “What a fucking moron. First for doing it, then…”

“For not deleting the evidence?” she asked, certain he had thought of it as a law officer, but hadn’t wanted to say so for fear of sounding insensitive.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, he deleted it. He just forgot to empty the recycle bin.”

“Repeat: fucking moron.”

Yes, he had been. Because while she hadn’t been perfect, she had tried hard to be a good wife and to make her marriage work. Right up until the moment she got slapped in the face with the kind of close-up pictures of another woman no heterosexual female would ever want to see.

“He was rich and spoiled and used to getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. One day he wanted me. The next he wanted her. It was pretty open-and-shut in his mind.”

“Too bad the son of a bitch did it on your computer. Whacking the hell out of his would have been much more satisfying.”

“Probably. But the claims he made during the divorce were bad enough. Painting me as a vindictive, low-class psycho who destroyed his belongings would have made things worse.”

This time, he didn’t hold back. Alec stepped closer, put his hands on her shoulders, and drew her to him. Sam resisted for half a second, by habit now, rather than mistrust. Then she relaxed into him, amazed at the feel of physical connection she’d told herself she didn’t miss.

He was hard and strong, the rugged planes of his body such a contrast to the soft curves of hers. Yet they fit together perfectly. With her cheek pressed into the angle between his shoulder and neck, and every inch of her pressed against the rest of him, a sigh couldn’t have fit between them.

Alec didn’t take things any further, and she didn’t ask him to. His hands remained above the waist; their mouths did not connect. She simply took what he was offering, enjoyed it while it lasted. Then, with a nod of silent gratitude, she stepped away, giving them both the space she suspected they needed to keep their heads on straight.

“I appreciate your telling me,” he said as they eyed each other.

“I appreciate your listening.”

“I guess we’re both carrying a lot of baggage.”

“I guess.” Wanting to make things clear before they went any further-if they were going any further-she said, “I might be ready to put that baggage down finally. But that doesn’t mean I want to pick a new set up right away.”

He got it immediately. “I’m not exactly ready to go on a long trip anytime soon myself.” He probably had as much reason as she did to avoid romantic entanglements, because of both his physical scars and the breakup he’d mentioned earlier tonight.

“No long trips,” she murmured, “meaning an overnight one here or there might be okay?”

He didn’t laugh, because she hadn’t been flirting. Though couched in innuendo, her meaning had been straightforward, and they both knew what she was saying. “Yeah, Sam. I think it might.”

She let out a slow, easy breath, wondering why she wasn’t dizzy with nervousness. She had just blatantly propositioned the sexiest man she’d ever met, asked him to have a short-term fling with her, and he had accepted. But her emotions were in control, her mood relaxed. They could have been talking about getting a bite to eat rather than having the one-night stand they had both just admitted they wanted.

Maybe the lack of tension was because she had known this was coming from soon after she’d met him. And because desperately wanting someone as emotionally unavailable as she was seemed safe. They would have no entanglements, no expectations, no emotions that could leave her crushed and devoid of any feeling at all, the way she’d been just one year ago.

An affair with Alec would be a perfect way to finish the healing process and begin to move on. To become whole and complete again, a fully realized woman, in an intensely pleasurable way.

“But not now. We’ve got to get through this case first,” he said, though he didn’t sound happy about it. Crossing his arms as if to prevent himself from reaching for her, he added, “You’re a potential witness, and that has to be my focus until we catch this guy.”

“I get it.”

She did. Just the knowledge that they were going to share something intimate and sexual was enough for now.

That didn’t mean she was ready for him to leave. Though she saw the fatigue in his face, she wanted him to stay. She wasn’t desperate and physically hungry like she’d been in the car. This was softer, gentler. She just wanted to spend some time with the man.