It wasn’t enough. He was too damn hard. He wanted to rip off those panties and…A soft moan penetrated the haze of desire. He flipped over and off of her fast. Damn, but he’d made a mistake.
It wouldn’t happen again. Yeah, right. One battle lost, Kane thought, but the bigger war raged on. He rolled onto his side and glanced over. “Are you okay?”
“Too much too soon,” she whispered, echoing words he’d used day one.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Once again, his need had gotten in the way of common sense. “Get some rest,” he said gruffly.
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders remained stiff.
“For?” He worked the muscles beneath his fingers, kneading her soft skin. As a distraction, it didn’t work. He had a sexy woman in his arms and his body knew it.
“I’m a lot of things, Kane. But I’m not a tease.”
He heard the desperation in her tone. Her need for him to understand. “Did I say you were?”
“No. But I’m sure you’re thinking it.”
He sensed the source of her concern was based in her past and understood. “As a matter of fact, I’m not.”
“Then what are you thinking?” she asked.
That she didn’t need to dig into old insecurities. Not with him. He respected everything about her. “That I pushed myself on a poor, frail, injured woman,” he said with a crooked grin.
She laughed. His attempt to lighten the mood had obviously worked. “No, really.”
“That I wasn’t in the mood anyway.”
This time she treated him to a snort of disbelief. “Seriously.”
“I was thinking,” he said, pausing to smooth her hair and inhale the fragrant scent that was Kayla. “That what just happened…”
“Yes?”
“Was the best almost sex I ever had.” Just being with her was beyond good. Kane accepted how much he needed her, even as he knew he’d ultimately let her go.
No matter what emotion and softness she offered him, he’d take none. But for the duration of the case, he’d protect her with his life.
* * *
Fresh from an uneventful shower, Kayla made her way to the family room. Kane sat staring at the boxes she recognized as holding her aunt’s things. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You should be resting.”
She scowled. “I slept half the day yesterday and all last night. I’m fine.” Or as close to fine as she could be with her attacker’s threat still echoing in her brain, her aunt’s reputation and her business in jeopardy…and having shared her bed with Kane McDermott for the past dozen hours.
Like her, he’d showered and changed. Judging by his appearance, she realized his clothes must also have arrived with the boxes. She wouldn’t be female if she didn’t admit she liked what she saw. Faded jeans stretched across his muscular legs. A black Henley covered his broad chest. The detective might not know much about cleaning his clothes, but he knew how to wear them. He just plain looked good.
She walked into her family room and knelt down beside him. Her thigh brushed his, a brief and accidental contact. Her stomach muscles curled into twisted bands of excitement and need. What should have been innocent wasn’t.
“You’ve got some color back in your cheeks,” he noted.
And it had nothing to do with good health, she thought wryly. “I feel better. Up to tackling those boxes, anyway.” She gestured to the opened cartons spread around the room.
“You showered.” He fingered her freshly washed hair.
She grinned. “Even I couldn’t share the bed with me a minute longer.”
“You should have called me.”
“So you could stand guard outside the bathroom? I’m not an invalid,” she assured him. And she didn’t want him treating her as one. His attention was nice, but she didn’t want his pity.
“I started without you.”
“Find anything interesting?” Her initial inspection of the contents had been cursory at best.
He shook his head. “There’re three huge boxes here.”
“I packed two of those myself. They lived in an apartment, and the landlord wanted it emptied as soon as possible so he could rent it out again. Anyway, Catherine and I gave most of their belongings to the Goodwill. My uncle had a niece who wanted some of his personal things. Catherine and I boxed the rest to go through later.”
“So the crossword puzzles…” His hand settled over the box nearest him.
“Anagrams and things. My aunt loved them. So did my mother. I used to do some when I was younger. I figured maybe I’d get back into them myself one day.” She shrugged. “The other box has knickknacks that have been in my family for years.”
“How old were you when your mother died?”
The question surprised her. It was as unexpected as it was unnecessary. “Didn’t your investigation reveal such a minute detail about my life?” she asked.
“Yes.” He had the grace to look ashamed despite the fact he’d merely been doing his job.
“So why ask?”
“Because I like hearing about you from you.”
She glanced down at her hands. It was her turn to be embarrassed. She’d already forgiven him. She believed what he’d told her earlier—that when he’d slept with her, his job hadn’t been on his mind. It had brought him into her life, but it hadn’t kept him there. When Captain Reid had denied protection, Kane could have walked away. He hadn’t.
“What about the business books?” he asked, obviously noting her silence and respecting her wishes by changing the subject.
“I was twenty, Catherine was twenty-one.” She answered his earlier question. “It was as if Mama chose the optimal time to let herself go. Neither one of us had to face social services or being separated.”
“Wouldn’t your aunt have taken care of you?”
“I suppose, but Mama loved us and wanted the best for both of us. Aunt Charlene never had kids and only related well to me because we both had that—” she tapped her head “—extra intelligence, I guess you could call it. But she had a harder time with Catherine because they had less in common.”
“I’m
