Olivia set the bags on the bed, then picked up the cat and shooed him out the door. When she and Conor were alone again, she carefully opened the Styrofoam containers. “We have a hamburger…a hamburger…and-ah, something different-a cheeseburger.”
“My brother has very basic tastes when it comes to food,” Conor said.
Olivia plucked a French fry from the bag and held it out in front of Conor’s mouth. He grabbed it with his teeth and quickly devoured it. It was the best French fry he’d ever eaten and Conor wondered whether that had less to do with the chef and more to do with his dinner companion.
After they finished, Olivia cleaned up the wrappers and the soda cans, then took them out to the galley. When she returned, she stood in the doorway of the forward cabin, her hands clutched in front of her. “I guess I should let you get some rest. I’ll just find a spot for myself in-”
“No,” Conor said. “Stay here. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re close by.”
She gave the twin-size berth a long look and Conor could tell exactly what she was thinking. In order for both of them to sleep in it, they’d have to practically wrap their bodies around each other. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” she said, moving to sit on the edge of the berth.
He nodded, then closed his eyes. “Tell me a story,” he said. “When we were kids, my brothers and I always had a story before bed.”
“About what?”
“Fairies and gnomes and elves.”
“Well, I know the story of Thumbelina,” she said.
“Is that an Irish fairy?”
“No, I think it’s just a fairy tale.”
“I suppose that will have to do. Tell me, then.”
Olivia drew a deep breath and began to speak. Though her story seemed to be an odd amalgam of several different Disney movies, Conor really didn’t care. He just wanted to listen to her voice, to reassure himself that she was still safe. As she launched into a subplot that had something to do with a cricket, he reached out and took her hand between his, distractedly toying with her fingers.
His touch caused her to hesitate for a moment, as if the warmth from his fingers had swept the words from her head. But then the story continued, through his gentle exploration of the soft skin on the inside of her wrist and inner arm, past the point where he gently pulled her down next to him on the bed, and beyond the moment when he tucked her body against his. It was only then that he could finally close his eyes and sleep, when his arms were wrapped around her waist and the sweet curve of her backside was tucked in his lap.
Conor drifted in and out of sleep, the painkillers the doctor had given him causing fitful dreams. He remembered hearing the engines start and then the gentle motion of the boat as it cut through the water. Olivia slept soundly, her body soft and warm in his arms, her breathing slow and even. Now that they were on the water, he was certain he could keep her safe. And though he’d always hated
Salem was fifteen miles across Massachusetts Bay and a busy harbor town. The boat could get in and out without much notice. Though Conor wanted to put his plans all together in his head, his brain was too fuzzy to concentrate for long. Instead, he nuzzled his face into the curve of Olivia’s neck and closed his eyes again.
He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but the next thing he remembered was the boat bumping up against the dock. Olivia rolled slightly with the motion and he grabbed her tight to keep her from falling off the berth. She stiffened in his arms and he knew she had awakened. When she turned onto her back and glanced up at him, it was with uncomprehending eyes.
“We’re just tying up,” he whispered, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath on his skin.
She didn’t say anything, just stared into his eyes. And then Conor bent closer and touched his lips to hers. He really hadn’t expected her to respond, but when she did, he deepened the kiss, lost in the enticing taste of her mouth.
Everything about her was too much to resist and he didn’t want to make the effort anymore. He’d been alone for so long and, for the first time in his life, he’d found someone who could make him forget all of the barriers he’d built around his heart. She touched a spot, deep inside of him, that he hadn’t even known existed. And when he kissed her, he didn’t have to wonder whether his kiss was making promises he didn’t want to keep. For now, Olivia was his and that was all that mattered.
Her pale hair fanned out on the pillow and Conor ran his fingers through it, liquid and silken to his touch. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, then teased at his bottom lip with her tongue. He sensed that her need for him was as acute as his was for her. And though he could spend the entire night just kissing her, the urge to explore her perfect body was just as overwhelming.
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a little voice-his cop voice-told him that spending the night in the same bed broke all the rules. And making love to her could end his career. “Why do you taste so damn good?” he murmured. “I want to stop but I can’t.”
She sighed softly, her fingers skimming over his face. “There are rules,” Olivia whispered, “against this…” Her tongue teased at his nipple. She trailed lower, nipping and biting, and driving him mad with need. “And against this…” she said, her fingers splaying across his belly, causing a flood of heat to rush to his lap.
He’d already decided that when it came to this case, the rules didn’t apply anymore. Someone in the department had nearly gotten them both killed. The police were supposed to be the good guys. Those were the rules. If they couldn’t follow them, then he wouldn’t either. “From now on, we make up our own rules,” he said. “And rule number one is that there will be no more rules.”
A playful smile quirked the corners of her mouth. “I like that rule.”
He laughed softly, then captured her mouth with his again. He’d never have guessed that behind her cool, sophisticated facade lurked an uninhibited temptress. Conor turned to pull her nearer, but the shift in his weight caused a sharp pain in his side, deep enough to steal his breath. He cursed softly. “This is not going to work,” he said. “I can barely move.”
“Then don’t,” Olivia said, straddling his hips and bracing her hands on either side of his head. “Rule number two. You must stay perfectly still.”
Her hair created a curtain around them and she dropped a kiss on his mouth and then another and another, dancing away when he tried to take more. When she straightened, Conor reached out and slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater. He spanned her slender waist with his hands and reveled in the beauty and delicacy of her body.
She was made for his hands, every curve a perfect fit against his palms. Though he’d never touched her this way before, it was as if he knew her by instinct. Yet that didn’t stop him from wanting to explore and memorize every inch of her skin.
With other women, it had been all about him and his needs, the undeniable rush toward satisfaction. Maybe it was the way he and Olivia had begun, his focus on protecting her. Suddenly, he wanted to make her ache for him the way he ached for her. He needed to see the desire grow in her eyes and feel it in her hands, until nothing could stop them from the inevitable.
Conor slid his hands along her rib cage until he found the soft curves beneath her breasts. The silky fabric of her camisole beneath his palms enhanced every warm inch of her flesh. As if taking a cue from him, Olivia reached for the buttons of her sweater and slowly undid them. When she was finished, he reached up and skimmed the sweater off her shoulders and down along her arms.
He’d chided her for her underwear obsession at the motel, but now he understood. The lace edging of her camisole offered a tempting view of the cleft between her breasts and the silk clung to her body like a second skin, outlining the peaks of her nipples.
With her eyes fixed on his, her gaze challenging him to make her stop, Olivia reached for the hem of her camisole and pulled it up over her head, then shook her hair until it tumbled around her shoulders. Conor’s breath caught in his throat. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, her skin luminous in the soft light. He knew at that moment that he wanted her, more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. But he schooled his need and promised himself that he’d go slow.
His reached up and cupped a breast in his palm, teasing at her nipple with his thumb. What bit of luck had brought her into his life? What had he done to deserve her? Whatever it was, Conor wasn’t about to question his good fortune. He’d simply enjoy it while it lasted. Never in a million years could he hope that Olivia would want a
