Kate Hoffmann - Ian

They didn’t speak. In truth, Marisol was afraid to-afraid they’d go back to the strange, stilted conversation of the last time they were together. Maybe they weren’t good at relationships. But they were fabulous at the sex.

Someday, that might not be enough. Someday, she might want something more. But for now, Ian’s body was what she needed, his passion, his strength and his complete surrender.

IAN SAT QUIETLY in the dark, sprawled in an overstuffed chair near the bed. He’d been watching Marisol sleep for hours, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing, noting the tiny movements of her fingers. He knew so many little things about her, things that might go unnoticed in a normal relationship, yet he seemed to find them particularly fascinating. Gradually, pieces were becoming a whole, but there were still huge gaps to fill, questions that needed to be answered.

When he’d first realized she was there beside his bed, he’d thought he was caught in a dream. But the moment she touched him, her warm, naked body against his skin, Ian knew she wasn’t just a nighttime fantasy.

Over the past few days and nights, he’d done his best to put her out of his head. But it was clear by his reaction to her tonight that what he’d thought was progress had simply been a feeble attempt at denial. His body still responded to hers. If anything, he wanted her more for having been without her for three days.

Finding pleasure in her was his body’s ultimate betrayal. But it wasn’t just the physical act of coming inside of her that he craved. His orgasm had become more about possession than release. Every moment he spent in such intimate contact was a moment that bound her to him.

Marisol was his. Her body, her soul, her heart, her mind, he wanted them all. He couldn’t imagine relinquishing her to another man, knowing what they’d shared. But how far would he go to keep her in his life?

She stirred and Ian leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. At first, he thought she’d go back to sleep, but then Marisol pushed up on her elbow and searched the bed for him, reaching out to touch his pillow.

“I’m here,” he murmured.

She turned, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “Is it morning?”

He shook his head. “No. Go back to sleep.”

She snuggled down beneath the covers and sighed. “Your front door was unlocked. You shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked.”

“My brother Declan stays here occasionally when he’s in town. Sometimes he forgets his key. Besides, who’s going to break into my house? I’m the police chief.”

“I broke in,” she said with a self-satisfied smile.

“But you didn’t come to steal anything.” He paused. “On second thought, maybe you did.” She’d stolen his willpower, his resolve and his self-control. And yet somehow, she didn’t make him feel weak or inadequate. And he certainly wasn’t a victim.

Being with Marisol made him more alive than he’d ever been. Losing himself in her body, in their lovemaking, made him realize what it was to be a man. He reveled in their differences, in the perfect contrasts between their bodies, soft and hard, delicate and strong, woman and man.

He and Marisol had been fashioned by fate to be together. It was the only explanation for the sheer exhilaration he felt when he touched her, and the contentment that seemed to descend upon them both when they were finished.

“Are you sorry I came?” she asked.

He shook his head. “How could I be?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I just needed to sleep. I needed you.”

Ian nodded. “Sometimes, I feel as if we’ve known each other for years. And then, I realize I don’t know anything about you, beyond the fact that we share this incredibly intimate relationship. I can possess your body in any way I choose and you wouldn’t refuse me, would you?”

She shook her head.

“But yet, I could ask you a simple question, and suddenly, a wall would spring up between us.”

“That would depend on the question,” she said. “Is there a question you’ve been wanting to ask me?”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “But I don’t know what use it would be asking since I don’t think you’re willing to answer.”

“Then don’t ask,” she said, her voice taking on an uneasy tone.

“I have to, Marisol. If I don’t, then I’m going against everything I am.”

She sat up in bed and pulled the covers around her breasts, her eyes wide and watching. Ian thought again about how best to handle her. He’d always been an honest man, yet suddenly, he’d begun living in this world of unspoken lies and half truths, content that if he didn’t acknowledge the problem then it didn’t exist.

“A few days ago, my brother Declan gave me some information…about you. And about David Barnett.”

She raked her hair out of her eyes, a frown wrinkling her brow. “I don’t-what kind of information?”

Ian sat back in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He couldn’t look at her. Her beauty just blinded him to reality. All he could do was listen to her voice and gauge her reactions that way. “He did a background check on you both.”

“Just like that? How did he know to-”

“I asked him to do it. The night after I met David Barnett.” So it was half a lie, but right now, Ian couldn’t feel guilty. She was hiding something from him-every instinct told him so. “I just got a vibe off of him that he might be trouble.” He looked at Marisol. “I’m a cop and I have been for a long time. I can’t ignore those hunches. It’s part of the job.”

“So why check up on me?”

“Even though we’d been…intimate, I didn’t know anything about you. Call it self-preservation.”

“And what did you learn?”

“You tell me,” he said, anger edging his voice.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at her hands, her fingers plucking at the sheet twisted around her legs. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” He cursed softly. “Tell me you can’t because there was nothing in that file. Tell me all these doubts racing through my head don’t exist. Tell me I do know the woman I’ve been sleeping with. Because if you don’t, them I’m going to feel like a real chump.”

Silence spun out around them and Ian expected any moment she’d crawl out of bed, grab her dress and leave. “Marisol, you know you can trust me,” he whispered.

“Can I? How do I know that? We met, what? Ten days ago? Just because a lot has happened in those ten days, doesn’t mean I can trust you. I thought I could trust David Barnett and I was wrong.”

“So you would rather I just let this go? Just walk away from you and all of this, from whatever is in that folder?”

Marisol nodded. “You can’t help me,” she murmured. “It would put everything you stand for at risk. You’re a police officer and you’re not allowed to bend the rules.” She paused. “Why don’t you just tell me what you know and I’ll tell you if it’s true?”

“I threw the file away,” Ian said. “I didn’t look inside. I don’t know what you’re hiding. That’s up to you to say. But if it’s something that will get you in trouble with the law, then you know what has to happen.”

“You have to stay away from me,” she said.

Ian cursed. They were caught in a trap, only one of them able to break free, but at the expense of the other. Deep down, he knew she was in trouble and she was probably mixed up in something illegal. But the moment he learned the facts, he’d be compelled to act in his capacity as an officer of the law. He also sensed that she needed his help, but she couldn’t ask for fear that she’d draw him into the mess.