The Unwanted

Caleb said nothing. Because he understood as well.

Her gaze flicked his way, and once again, all those words passed between them. Unspoken, but understood.

Her throat worked as she swallowed and then she turned away. “You really think there are things there, don’t you?”

Curving a hand over her nape, he tried to figure out the right way to answer that. Was there a right way? A wrong way? “Do you know how you felt when you looked at the kid and just knew what the answer was? It’s the same way, Destin. The very same way. If you’d look, I think you’d see it. But you’re not ready to go there. You might never be. And that’s fine.” Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her nape. “But I can understand what she did, because who knows…if I could have found who hurt you, I don’t know what lines I might have crossed.”

Destin’s body shuddered against his. “When it comes to those we care about, I guess we’re always willing to cross certain lines.”

“Care…” He caught her chin in his hand and tipped her head back. “Destin, do you think I’d do it because I care about you? Hell, I care about Oz, but I wouldn’t throw my life away for her. I care about a lot of people…but there’s only one person I’d give up everything for.”

Her lashes flickered.

Then she licked her lips and backed away. “Is this really the place?”

As she built the walls back around her heart, Caleb let his hand fall. With a tight smile, he said, “Perhaps not.”

Maybe there wasn’t going to be a place.

Chapter Fourteen

The hotel room was strangely quiet.

The curtains were open and Destin could see the gentle, golden light of the sunset falling in to paint lovely colors across the otherwise-bland, impersonal room.

“The police have my information,” Caleb said as he finished organizing the rest of the files. “They’ll contact me in D.C. if they need me.”

Destin nodded.

Something’s missing…

She still felt like some crucial piece of an important puzzle was missing. It wasn’t the case. When the police had gone to arrest the rent-a-cop, he’d refused to let them in. Then they’d had to bust the door down when they heard a gunshot. The son of a bitch had shot himself in the head with a Desert Eagle .357. That was going to be a fun cleanup job.

The good news was that he’d kept a journal documenting his “jobs”.

The bad news was that a lot of the bastards who’d hired him for his little “pay to rape” business were trust- fund babies and their daddies and lawyers were going to have a field day with this.

But her unrest had nothing to do with the job.

She suspected it had everything to do with the man behind her.

Bracing a hand against her temple, she blocked out everything and reached for that inner calm. Calm…she needed it. Once she had calm, she could handle anything.

Dimly, she was aware of him.

Felt his pain.

Felt his resignation.

Resignation—

Turning around, she saw that he’d left the sitting area. Swallowing, she moved to the doorway of his room and saw that he was packing.

No. Not yet.

Slipping into the room, she moved to stand behind him. He paused in the middle of folding a shirt, but then went right back to it.

Stroking a hand down his back, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to him. He went still.

“Destin. What are you doing?”

Slipping her hands under the hem of the polo he wore, she said, “Give me a minute, and you’ll figure it out.”

She started to strip the shirt away, but he stopped her, spinning around to catch her wrists when she would have reached for him. “Stop it,” he growled. “The job is done, so we’re done. I’m leaving, okay?”

“Just like that?” She stared at him. “A few hours ago, you were telling me that there was only one person you’d give up everything for…I thought it was me. Is it?”

He jerked her against him, one hand molding to the back of her skull. Then, as his mouth came down on hers, he stole her breath away. There was nothing gentle to it. His teeth nipped her lower lip, demanding entrance, and even when she opened for him, he wasn’t done making demands. His tongue drove into her mouth, darting and teasing and tasting, while his free hand streaked down to cup her hip in his hand and pull her lower body against him.

Hard, rough and breathless…that was what this was. And then it was over.

When he lifted his head, dark brown eyes glittered at her. “Do you think there’s anybody else for me?” he all but snarled.

Always so controlled, Caleb. But not now. His control had shattered and fallen to shreds around him, it looked like.

Harsh hunger stamped his face but his hand was gentle as he stroked it up her back, along her shoulders to rest it on her neck, his fingers splayed wide. “You’re inside my skin, in my dreams, in my soul…just where you’ve been for the past eight years. Even when I walked away, you were there. I had to cut you out of me to keep this connection from killing us. I…” Then he stopped, shaking his head.

As he untangled their bodies, Destin stared at him. Her head was pounding, her heart racing from his words. And she ached. Physically, emotionally, mentally. He made her ache, hunger, want.

“You need to let me finish packing,” he said quietly. He brushed his thumb over her lip and then moved away. “If you want a chance in hell of walking out of this now, just…”

He shook his head and turned away.

A chance in hell…

No. She didn’t want that at all.

As he turned his back on her once more, she closed her eyes and thought about the time five years ago when she’d watched him walking away from her. If she’d reached out…

No. No looking back, she told herself. It was too late for that and the past five years, if nothing else, had made them both stronger. They’d need to be if they were going to handle what happened between them.

But she’d be damned if she let him walk away this time.

On silent feet, she moved up behind him again as he reached inside the bureau. He caught sight of her in the mirror and she watched as a muscle bunched in his jaw, saw the way his eyes flashed hot and wild before that familiar, cool shutter fell back into place.

Then as she laid her hands on his back and smoothed them down, his lids drooped down low. “You didn’t hear me.”

“Oh, I heard you.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his back, felt the tremor race through him. She did that. She could make this man, this cool, controlled, contained man tremble for her. Smoothing her hands down his back, she slid them under the hem of his shirt again, resting them on his sides. “But you said if I wanted a chance in hell…”

Rising up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his ear and said, “The only chance I want is with you. I don’t