Nick knew Carina was going to kiss him the second before she latched her lips onto his. It took him a moment to adjust-no woman had ever initiated physical contact, not like this.
But Carina Kincaid was not like other women. Self-confident, in both her career and her body, she had a sensual self-awareness that enticed him.
He didn’t wait long to return her embrace.
As soon as he responded, she wrapped both arms around his neck, her fingers running through his short hair, massaging his head as she reached deeper into him with her mouth.
He wanted her.
Nick reached for her face, her soft skin silky against his rough hands. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissed her jaw, her long, sleek neck. She moaned into his ear, her reaction to his attention giving him the confidence to explore further. To touch her breasts, rub his thumb over her hard nipples. She gasped, clutched at his neck, kissed his ear, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine until all he wanted was to strip her naked and make love to her.
They’d become twisted in the front seat. Contrary to what teenagers thought, cars were not made for sex. Carina whispered in his ear, “Take me upstairs.”
At the same time her hand moved from his thigh to his knee. A jolt of fiery pain shot through his nerves. Damn, why now? Why couldn’t he have one night the way
He pulled away from her, hating to let her go. He swallowed back the pain that ran from his knees through his entire body.
“That’s probably not a good idea.” Nick turned his head, unable to look Carina in the eye. She was a woman who demanded honesty, and he couldn’t lie to her face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” She looked at his knees and he felt uncomfortable but not surprised. She was a cop, trained to observe. He didn’t want her to know how much pain he was in, didn’t want her to think that it impacted his job. By tomorrow morning after a few Motrin he’d be good as new. He just over-did it today. He wasn’t used to twenty-hour days anymore.
“I’m fine,” he said, too sharply. To compensate, he reached over and kissed her lightly on the lips. Damn, she tasted so good. He kissed her again.
He touched her beautiful face, the slender lines and thick lips, naturally red from their hot kisses. He wanted her. But not now, not like this. Not in a car, not when he couldn’t carry her up the stairs.
“Good night, Carina.”
It took every ounce of strength to get out of the car without his knees buckling and crumbling to the driveway. He stood next to the car, unable to walk away.
Carina stared at him through the windshield, thinking.
Finally, she started the engine and backed up. She stopped the car, rolled down the window. “Dream of me tonight, Nick.”
She drove off. He watched the car until it reached the end of the tree-lined street. He expected it to turn the corner; instead, she pulled into the driveway of the corner house. The garage door went up and she pulled in.
She lived really close to her parents.
The garage door closed behind the car and Nick released his breath, not realizing he’d been holding it.
Damn. Even now, nearly a year later, the Butcher had left a permanent mark on Nick.
His knees were so shot he didn’t think he’d make it up the stairs. He almost hadn’t made it out of Carina’s car, and he was grateful she hadn’t said anything.
He’d taken the ibuprofen back at Jodi’s apartment, but it had done nothing to help the pain. Worse, he’d forced himself to stand longer than he should, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the San Diego Police Department or Carina. Especially Carina.
He dry-swallowed two more pills and shuffled over to the stairs leading to the apartment, then sat on the bottom step. A light above the apartment door illuminated the stairs.
Something about Carina…it drew him in like no woman had done before. She intrigued him. Pretty, certainly, and sexy, but it was more than her looks: there was a sharp brain and deep confidence. Like so many people in the world, she’d suffered tragedy, but her strength and natural optimism gave her the ability to persevere and create something much, much better with her life. Her drive to be a good cop, a great cop, was alluring. Almost as sexy as the way she put her hand on her hip, subtly, unconsciously, drawing attention to her oh-so-feminine curves.
He closed his eyes and wondered what would happen between him and Carina if he didn’t have so much baggage. He liked the way she thought, the way she looked, the way she loved her parents and respected her family. She’d kissed him, not a tentative, uncertain kiss, but a fierce and confident embrace that told him she wouldn’t be a shrinking violet in bed. She would give as good as she got.
He wanted her in his bed. Her bed. He would have taken her in the car, and knew she’d be more than willing if, perhaps, they weren’t sitting in her parents’ driveway.
More than anything, he appreciated her straightforward manner, the fact that she said what she thought and didn’t agonize over every decision she made.
He realized that’s exactly what he’d been doing back home in Montana. Agonizing over whether to be sheriff or give it up. Not because he wasn’t a good cop, but because he didn’t know if he wanted it anymore. The only person his bad decision had affected last year in the Butcher investigation was himself. It could have been worse. Someone could have been killed because he’d acted the maverick.
Still, being here, working this case, showed him he still had a sharp mind. Maybe sharper now for what he’d gone through in the past. If only his body would cooperate, he’d be at the top of his game.
Carina was a physically active, intelligent woman. Could he keep up with her? He wanted to. But look at him now, sitting on the stairs, unable to walk to the apartment above. Was it even fair to her?
“Beautiful night.”
Nick tensed until he recognized Colonel Pat Kincaid’s deep voice.
“Yes, sir,” he said, opening his eyes. By the colonel’s expression, he didn’t know if he’d witnessed Nick’s make-out session in the car with his daughter. “You snuck up on me.”
The colonel grinned, leaned against the stair railing. “I’m light on my feet.”
Nick knew he should stand, but if he tried he’d fail. Embarrassment warred with his predicament. He needed help; he didn’t want to ask.
“Carina has been working long hours on this case,” the colonel said.
“Yes, sir.”
“You can drop the ‘sir.’ I’m retired. Makes me feel old. And on duty.”
Nick couldn’t help but grin. He remembered telling his favorite deputy, Lance Booker, virtually the same thing.
Already, Nick had more respect for Pat Kincaid than he had for his own father, and that thought unsettled him. The respect for Colonel Kincaid came from the results of his parentage, and one night of good conversation. He loved his family, showed it. Not only in the way he spoke of them, but in the way his children spoke of him.
“Carina is a good cop,” Nick said, feeling like he had to say something. He didn’t do well with small talk.
“That she is. Driven. You know about my grandson.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
The colonel took a deep breath. “It was the worst day of my life.” He paused. “When Nelia came home from law school and said she was pregnant, Rosa and I were shocked.” He grunted. “We shouldn’t have been. Kids have sex. They get pregnant. It happens all the time, but…we thought we’d raised a nun.” He looked pointedly at Nick. “Nelia was our first-first daughter, first child. We shouldn’t have been surprised. She was twenty-three. Not a young kid. And Andrew was willing to do the right thing. Marry her.”
They were silent for several minutes. The colonel wanted to talk, but Nick didn’t rush him. He understood the need to collect thoughts, try to make sense of the insensible.
“Rosa and I are from the old school. The right school, in our minds, even now. Men did the right thing in our
