Razor's Edge

Page 2

Jack wondered if she was aware of the soft note of invitation in her words or how it made his heart race beneath her palm. He didn’t want her under a sense of obligation. He didn’t want to be the tie that bound her to memories of her past with Steve. And he sure as hell didn’t want her martyring herself in his bed.
“But,” she went on, stepping back, “I’m not so sure you’re happy to see me.”
He took the opportunity to breathe, sucking in the salt-tinged air in an effort to clear his head. “I’m just surprised but in a good way.”
Rachel smiled. Her fingertips slid down his arm to his wrist, then circled the neck of his beer bottle. She tugged it loose and took a long pull, her lips wrapped around the top and her throat working with each swallow.
His mind fell straight into the gutter.
He turned as she skirted him and went into the house. He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on and she didn’t, either. Instead, she used the fading sun as a guide to reach the kitchen island. A moment later a flare in the shadows preceded the igniting of a candlewick. The property management company had scattered groupings of seashell-covered candles all over the house, part of the nautical theme they’d utilized throughout.
“I’d forgotten how charming this place is,” she called out to him.
Jack debated the wisdom of following her inside, knowing the leash on his hunger was tenuous at best. “I can’t take credit for it. It’s staged by professionals to appeal to the vacation renters.”
“I wish you’d reserve more time here for yourself.” She lit another candle. “We’d love to see you more often.”
“I’m thinking about it.” Knowing it would be ridiculous to keep shouting at her from outside, Jack entered the living room. “I’d like to start spending more time with Riley, now that he’s older.”
“He’d love that.” Turning away from him, she searched the cupboards.
“The plates are to the left of the fridge,” he directed. He watched the way the hem of her skirt lifted a couple tantalizing inches as she reached upward. Feeling like a randy dog, he looked away, then couldn’t resist looking back again. “What have you got there?”
She looked over her shoulder and her mouth curved. “Better Than Sex cake.”
Jack searched for a sign that she was joking. “Whoever came up with that doesn’t get out much.”
Her laughter hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d always loved that carefree sound. It said so much about her. She made him laugh, too, with her e-mailed stories about hysterical run-ins with customers. He’d startled his fellow deputies more than once by laughing aloud at something she sent him. She brought light into his life, which made him even more aware of the darkness he could bring into hers.
It figured he would fall for the one woman he was the worst possible fit for.
Kicking off her low-heeled sandals by the island, she padded over with a single plate in her hand. “I make a cupcake-sized version of this at the store. It’s one of my most popular flavors.”
“Everything you make is popular. You’re an awesome cook.”
“Thank you. I can’t grill, though, so I’m relying on you to handle the hot dogs and burgers tomorrow.”
“Put me to work. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
One dirty blond brow rose with challenge. “Don’t complain later when I take you up on that.”
Again, there was a suggestive undertone to her words. He forced his gaze away and down at the cake, noting what looked to be caramel drizzle over the top. He wanted to drizzle caramel all over her body and tongue it off slowly. Endlessly. Licking through it to the sweeter flesh beneath.
“Here.” She stabbed at the cake with the fork in her hand and lifted a bite to his lips.
He opened his mouth. The cake was rich but not too rich. “Very good,” he praised, happy to see her cheeks flush with pleasure. “But it’s not better than sex.”
Her blue eyes sparkled with silent laughter. “Prove it.”
three
The tension that gripped Jack at her bold statement was so tangible Rachel felt it. She waited with bated breath, her heart skipping at the scorching look he raked her with. That sharply focused intensity had been too much for her when she’d been younger.
Dear God . . . he was gorgeous. Impossibly sexy. Standing there in only button-fly jeans with the top button undone. He was leaner than she remembered, his features more angular. She bet he wasn’t taking care of himself. He was likely working too hard and not eating often enough. There wasn’t an ounce of extraneous flesh on him. Every muscle was clearly, deliciously defined. His arms, his pectorals, his abdomen.
He could drive a woman crazy, especially with that air of danger clinging to him. It was evident, just by looking at him, that there were very few things he wouldn’t do if necessary. There were scars all over him—a puckered bullet hole by his shoulder, slashing scars across his abdomen, an old burn mark on his forearm, just to name a few.
As long as Rachel had known him, he’d always lived life on a razor’s edge, first as a U.S. Army Ranger and now as a deputy marshal. Any woman who loved him would have to accept the hazards inherent in the work he did. His job would always be his mistress. It would pull him from his wife’s bed at all hours of the night, luring him into deadly situations while the scent of his desire still clung to her skin.
Rachel hadn’t believed she could ever take on a man like him, but she’d underestimated her capacity to grow and change. Since she and Jack had first met, she’d had a wonderful eight-year marriage. She had persevered through an ectopic pregnancy, the death of her mother and beloved husband, the launching of her own small business, and the terrifying process of learning how to be a single mother.
She was no longer the woman who’d been married to Steve Tse. She was now the woman who’d survived him, and they were two very different people.
The woman she was today was more than capable of tackling a challenge like Jack Killigrew. And by God, she intended to.
He finally spoke. “What did you just say?”
Rachel wondered if he knew the impact his low, whisky-rough voice had on women. “It’s been a long time for me, Jack.”
“Hell.” He retreated. Shoving his hands through his short dark hair, he turned his back to her. “You shouldn’t have drunk that beer.”
Lord have mercy. The way he moved and spoke was intensely sensual. Just the flexing of his muscles was totally erotic.
She became even more determined to have all that virility focused on her. “I don’t need false courage to hit on you.”
He glared at her over his shoulder. “This isn’t you.”
“It’s me now. You’ve stayed away for two years. A lot has changed.”
Pivoting, he faced her again. “I figured you and the Tses would close ranks while you dealt with Steve’s death. I stayed out of the way.”
Rachel set the plate and fork down on the glass-topped end table. “I’m glad to hear that’s why you’ve been so distant. I thought maybe it was me.”
His jaw clenched and she knew she’d struck a cord. The confirmation hurt more than she’d thought it would.
“I would have asked you to be here,” she said, “if I could have used you. I feel comfortable doing that. Even before—when Steve was still here—I knew I could count on you.”
He snorted. “You never quite got used to me.”
“You’re larger than life, Jack. I’ve never met anyone like you before or since.” Her arms crossed. The raw magnetism and intense carnality that once overwhelmed her now set her libido on a steady simmer. She hadn’t realized until she started dating again that she was comparing her dates to Jack and finding they left her cold. “You are rarely entirely comfortable with me, either,” she shot back.
“So why do this? Why ask me this?”
Rachel was confused. He was looking at her like he wanted to nail her to the nearest wall, but he sounded like that was the last thing he was interested in. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you hear the sound of your voice, all gravelly and sexy as hell? Are you completely oblivious to the bad-boy vibe you give off? Because I’m not blind or deaf.”
Jack’s dark and steady gaze was knife-sharp. His brows were drawn together in a fearsome glower, but she wasn’t intimidated. She was quickly picking up on the fact that he became the most fierce when his equanimity was threatened. Which meant, for better or worse, she got to him.
“You’re physically attracted to me,” she said, daring him to deny it. “So what’s the problem?”
He mimicked her pose, crossing his arms and displaying powerful biceps. “I’m flattered, but we’ve got too much baggage—and a future with Riley between us—to make casual sex work.”
Why would anything casual delve into baggage?
She looked away, hiding the spark of hope she felt. Jack knew damn well there was nothing casual about the sexual tension between them, and that scared him. Of course, he wouldn’t be the first drop-dead gorgeous guy to have commitment issues. In all the years she’d known him, he had never once had a steady relationship. If an event required a date, he’d bring one, but Rachel never saw him with the same woman more than once.
Needing to think, she picked up the plate and moved back to the kitchen. She took a bite of the cake and contemplated her next move. This was her first-ever seduction; she had no Plan B to fall back on. Giving up wasn’t an option.
“Rachel?” Jack’s voice was soft in the semi-darkness.
She ate a little more. “Hmm?”
“You got awfully quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
He exhaled harshly, his head falling back until he was staring at the white-washed wooden beam ceiling. “I’m sure if you gave dating a shot, you’d find someone you liked.”
“I like you.” She spoke around another bite. She had long admired his fierce loyalty, but over the last two years since Steve passed on, she’d come to know Jack even better via his role as Riley’s godfather. Through the e-mails and phone calls he shared with her son, she discovered Jack possessed a deep capacity to love and nurture, a marked patience while teaching, and the ability to be open-minded and nonjudgmental. And she damn well couldn’t discount how just the sound of his voice turned her on. “But I have been dating.”