It Started That Night. Virna DePaul

on my own—”

      He jerked around to face her. “And put yourself in danger again? It took Hardesty killing your mother before you realized what a danger he was the first time.”

      The words hit her like a battering ram, causing her to stumble. Although she pressed her lips together, she couldn’t hold back a whimper of pain.

      “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to fight. I came here to apologize. You didn’t give me a chance … I didn’t mean for you to see those pictures. I mean—” He threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I feel like an idiot.”

      “Good,” she said, but her words were empty. Slowly, she sank into a chair and hung her head so her hair covered her face. Be fair for once, she told herself. This isn’t John’s fault. No matter how much his rejection had hurt, he’d never made any promises or declarations of love to mislead her. And he’d had no part in what happened afterward.

      But here he was. A big, impossible-to-ignore reminder of her own foolishness.

      She heard him move and raised her head. He was staring at one of the mosaics she’d made and hung on the wall, a cheery swirl of color creating a sunflower. He stroked his finger across the individual tiles. She shivered as if he’d touched her body. Pleasure rioted through her.

      For several seconds, his gaze remained fixed on the mosaic. When he looked up, he studied her with the same intensity. “It fits—you being an art therapist.”

      She rolled her eyes—self-preservation. “I’m so glad you approve.”

      He sat beside her, undeterred when she cringed away. “I didn’t ask for this, Lily. Believe it or not, I don’t get off on hurting you. Now or in the past.”

      Swallowing hard, she stared at him. His voice was tinged with real regret. And suddenly she was tired of blaming him when she’d had her part in what happened that night. “Look, I read your signals wrong. I thought I meant more to you then I did and it made me act stupid.” She shoved to her feet and hugged her arms to her chest. “In the end, it all meant nothing. For you, it never meant anything at all.”

      “That’s not true.” He stood and lightly gripped her arms. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was hard turning you down. I was interested in you. More than I ever let on.”

      She sucked in a breath and her chest brushed against his. Pleasure shot through her and she raised her hand to push him away. What would it feel like to pull him closer, just once?

      “I still am.”

      He stared at her lips, his eyes a fierce blue backlit by desire. The warmth coursing through her exploded into flames. She took a step back. “No,” she whispered, doubt rolling through her.

      “Yes,” he countered.

      She tried to turn her head, but he held her arm with one hand while he raised the other to cup her cheek. She gasped at how good his touch felt. Helplessly, she nuzzled closer, but he dropped both hands and stepped away.

      She moaned, overcome with loss. He took another step back, his face stiff and unnaturally controlled. His fingers clenched and then relaxed. “But you’re a witness in this investigation. And that’s a line I can’t cross. You were so young then—”

      “You damn tease! If I was a temptation, I was one easily cast aside. You already proved that. You didn’t need to do it again.”

      Grabbing her wrists with an infuriated growl, he pulled her against him. Her breath whooshed out of her as every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. Chest. Thighs. And every sensitive place in between.

      His mouth covered hers. Need exploded in a painful rush of sensation, scaring her. She couldn’t do this. Didn’t know how to show him everything she was feeling. She whimpered and pulled back, her breath as quick and shallow as his.

      His hands loosened on her arms. He visibly struggled for control. Before he could completely let go, Lily grabbed his face and pulled him close.

      John groaned when Lily’s lips softened under his. He feasted on them for several long minutes before pulling back to bury his face in her throat. “So long. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he managed to gasp out.

      Her answering moan of need, tremulous and whisper soft, shivered into him until he felt it settle somewhere in his chest. Desperate, he took her mouth again. She tasted amazing. Sweet and innocent, just as she had years ago. But at the same time, the sweetness was tempered with spice. A ripe sexuality bore itself out in the parry and thrust of her tongue against his.

      Lowering his hands to her hips, he arched her into his groin, relishing her broken gasps of pleasure and the way her hands pulled at his hair. His mouth opened wider and he pushed her against the door, flattening his palms against it and grinding his aching shaft against her until he was practically drilling her. Instead of stopping him, she arched into him, opening her legs wider.

      He pulled back, breathing in air like a locomotive. He clenched his fists, stepped completely away, and walked to her art table. He braced himself on stiffened arms. Only when he felt fully in control did he turn to face her.

      She’d moved from the door and sat on the battered thrift-store couch, her head tipped back and eyes closed. She must have heard him move, because she suddenly opened her eyes and sat up. She kept her face averted.

      “I’m sorry.” John winced. “Again.”

      Her mouth twisted bitterly. “Poor John. You take responsibility for everything, don’t you? But I’m a big girl.” She rose, dusted off her hands as if she could rid herself of him that easily, and shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted to know if you’d learned anything new since I last saw you.”

      He wanted to take her up on her challenge. To crawl onto her body and press her into the soft cushions and satisfy her curiosity fully. But despite her taunting words, her eyes looked anything but confident.

      “Bottom line, you know I care about you. I’m just trying to do my job.”

      She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

      “You want this investigation closed?”

      This time, she didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

      “Then talk to me. Get your family to cooperate. Your father’s dodged every attempt I’ve made to talk to him. The more you and your family fight me, the longer it’s going to take.”

      “You want me to hand my family over to you? To feed them to the wolves?”

      Eyes narrowed, he asked, “Are you hiding something?”

      “Wh-what are you talking about?”

      “I can see it in your eyes, Lily. Who are you trying to protect? Hardesty?”

      Her laugh was high and panicked sounding. “No one.”

      “Then who? Your father?”

      “No.” The word came out so quietly. “No,” she said with more force. “Of course not.”

      “Because if you are, I guarantee you I will find out. Your father never liked me, but he’s going to have to face me sometime.”

      “Don’t bother my father just because yours is lucky enough to be dead.”

      Shock widened his eyes.

      Lily was one of the few people who knew how devastated he’d been when his father, the former mayor of Sacramento, had hung himself amidst allegations of embezzlement. It had changed him into the rebellious bad boy who’d later had trouble with the law. He’d allowed few past that protective armor. His family. Lily. And she’d just—ruthlessly and deliberately—torn into his wounds.

      He moved closer, stopping when she scrambled away. “I’d never hurt you, Lily. Obviously this was a mistake. You don’t want to help me, that’s fine. We’ll see how it plays out on its own.”