Danger Signals

Chapter 8

He felt the ripples of her laughter with the supersensitive part of himself still nestled inside her.

"Wow," he said, although it came out more like something between a growl and a purr. "That's a very interesting sensation."

"What is?"

He nudged her head with his chin…ran his hand lightly over her back. "You. Laughing. I can feel it inside you."

"Gee, I'd think you'd be-"

"I know you would, but you'd be wrong." He stopped caressing her and sucked in a breath. "Good God. Is it possible it's catching-this gift of yours?"

She tilted her head and smiled up at him, lashes half veiling her eyes and lips looking blurred and soft. "I told you, what I have isn't that unusual. It's mostly a matter of degree."

"Hmm," he said, thinking about it. "Maybe." A little shiver ran through him. though he realized it was more mental than physical. He'd never been so conscious of the workings of his own mind. Thoughts, yeah-he usually tried to stay on top of those. It was the feelings, the reactions, the stuff that popped into his mind whether he wanted it to or not that he was starting to be aware of, and wonder about. Right now he was pretty sure he had his fire walls up-blocking, she called it-even if he didn't have a clue how he did it. And it was pretty obvious he hadn't been a little while ago.

"That was a serious question, by the way," he said after a moment. "Did the fact that you were picking up my…you know…" Lord, what would he call it? Ardor? Passion? Pure unadulterated lust?

Actually, that he had no problem with. It was the stuff that might have leaked along with it that worried him. Those were things he hadn't had time to sort out himself, and he was pretty certain he'd need to do some serious editing before sharing them with anyone-particularly her.

"I'm not sure." Tierney said, tucking her face back under his chin where he couldn't see it. It felt warm, though, and he wondered if she could possibly be blushing. "I've never had it happen before-not like that."

"Come on." Oh, but a part of him wanted to grin from ear to ear with the purely involuntary swelling of his masculine pride. Then he said wryly. "Well, I wish I thought my-ahem-lovemaking skills had something to do with it, but it's more reasonable to assume you were picking up on my-ahem-enthusiasm."

Up popped her head again. This time she kissed him-and not lightly. "Stop trying to find reasons," she murmured as she closed her eyes, licked her lips, then opened them again to glare at him. "There was nothing even remotely reasonable about what just happened to us."

Wade cupped her head with his hand and brought her mouth back to his. It was a long time before he released her enough to ask. "Feel like being unreasonable some more?"

Tierney gulped air and managed to produce sound-a whisper. "Okay…except…well, there are a couple of small things…"

"Yeah?" said Wade in a deep, guttural voice, nibbling at her soft, swollen lips. "Like what?"

"I'd like very much to see you naked."

"Glad to oblige." He was laughing. She could feel him laughing, growing hard inside her. "What else?"

"Oh-" She grew breathless, riding his gentle rocking like a boat on a lazy swell. "You're right, that is an interesting…"

He stopped her with a harder, deeper kiss as he continued to move slowly, sinuously inside her, then said. "What else? Time for talk is just about over."

He was right; she was finding it harder and harder to breathe, much less talk. "Well…under the circumstances, this is probably moot, but-"

"Oh, hell." He went completely still and closed his eyes. "I forgot to use-"

Now it was she who stopped him with a kiss. "Shh- we forgot." She felt only a moment's guilt at the almost certain knowledge that it wouldn't have mattered to her back then if she had remembered. "I'm on the pill, so that's covered. And I'm very healthy…"

"So'm I. but that's-anyway, I don't have anything with me. Do you?"

"No," she said, laughing softly, teasing him with a little body wiggle, "but as I said, it's kind of pointless to worry about it now…isn't it?"

"Yeah…" There was that growl again, as he moved into her in a testing way. "So…anything else you wanted to discuss while we're being…uh. reasonable?"

"Well, if we…managed to do what we did…on this awful couch, imagine what we could accomplish in my nice roomy bed."

He paused, lying still but letting his hands wander at will over her back and bottom while he considered the options: withdraw from her and move to a more comfortable venue, with all its limitless possibilities…or stay where he was. "Do you really want me to stop?" he asked weakly.

Tierney's only reply was a moan. He kissed her throat as he resumed his slow movements both inside and outside her body. Murmured against her thumping pulse, "How about a compromise?"

"Okay…" Her voice had grown high and airless. She'd have said the same thing if he'd asked her to consider flying to the moon.

"Stay with me now…"

She felt herself being lifted, his strong arms taking her with him as he knelt on the sofa cushions. Then her legs were astride his hips and his arms under her bottom supported her weight. She laced her arms around his neck, buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder and gave a giddy little cry as he rose to his feet.

"Lord, I'm glad you're strong," she whispered, laughing, dizzy and utterly helpless now.

Wade was too busy disposing of his pants to reply. They fell to the floor at last, and he kicked them out of the way. From somewhere off in the distance he heard Tierney give a pleased little chuckle as she peeled off his shirt, and then her strong fingers were kneading his bare back and buttocks and her soft body was an all-over caress as she swayed and writhed against him. He lost track of his legs.

"Uh…babe," he said weakly, "my plan was to carry you to your bedroom like this, but I don't think I'm going to make it. Plan B…comin' up." He sank with her onto the arm of the couch and pulled her legs snugly around him. "How's that?"

She couldn't answer him. The penetration was so deep, deeper than she'd thought possible. Her slightest movement set off rockets of sensation deep inside…and yet the velvety caress of his belly sliding over hers, the crisp tingle of chest hair teasing her nipples, the gentle but inexorable pressure of his hands…nimble, clever fingers… were impossible to resist. She couldn't help it…rocked harder against him, and heat and pressure forced a cry from her throat, something deep-throated and primitive she'd never heard herself utter before. She rocked again, and lost sensation in her feet-except at the same time every inch of her skin seemed on fire.

She wanted to scream…gripped Wade's shoulders, arched her back and bit her lip to keep those terrible cries inside. She wanted the pressure and sensation to stop-at least her mind did. Her mind was sobbing, sobbing. I can't… I can't…

But her body wouldn't listen. Her body only wanted more. Wanted more of him.

He knew the desperate struggle going on inside her, felt it in the tenseness of her muscles, the way her torso writhed and shuddered in his arms, heard it in her whimpering breaths. Wanting only to ease her distress, he left one arm across her lower body to guide her as she rocked against him and brought the other to cradle her head. He whispered. '"Shh…" as he pressed the side of her face to his. and felt a slick warmth on his cheek he knew must be her tears.

Though almost overwhelmed with tenderness for her. in the masculine way, of course, he didn't breathe a word of what was going on inside of him.

Sweetheart…it's okay. Don't fight it, my dearest…trust me. Let me take you with me. It's okay…I'm here and I'm holding you… I won't let anything hurt you. It will be all right, I promise. Come with me, my love…

The feelings were inside her, filling her like a rising flood. She didn't question or wonder about them, but clutched at them the way a wild animal, drowning, will grab hold of just about anything, even the hand of a human being, its mortal enemy. She wrapped the feelings around her like a cloak and felt joy flood her whole being, like sunlight. Laughing, she lifted her face to its warmth and thought. This is what love feels like.

Wade felt the easing in her muscles, heard the soft ripples of her laughter, and felt his whole body swell with purely masculine exaltation. He felt great and powerful, a man among men, able not only to give his woman unimaginable pleasure, but to protect and care for her, as well. He felt almost godlike, so tuned to the workings of this woman's body that he knew exactly when she was on the brink of climax, and so confident in his power and skill that he could ease her back from the edge, yet not lose the crescendo or send her crashing once more into panic. And all without saying a word.

Stay with me, sweetheart. Not yet…not yet. Let's ride this wave together…a while longer…a little more. Stay with me, love…

And so she did.

She'd never imagined she could obey a man so implicitly. Of course, she could obey him because at this moment she trusted him, absolutely and completely. And trusted him because she knew his feelings. At this moment, at least, I know them…

It was probably both simpler and more complicated than that, and she certainly didn't pause to reason it out then. She was operating on pure instinct and raw emotion, both almost unheard of for her-though she didn't think of that, either, until much later.

Now, love? Will you take this ride with me? Don't be afraid… I'm right here, holding you… I'll keep you safe. Are you ready to let go now?

He heard her answer in her gasping cry. "Yes…please, yes!" Felt it in the quakings and clenchings that began deep inside her and built to a cataclysm that claimed every part of her body. But by then he was involved with cataclysms of his own, and no longer sure he was as mighty and all-powerful as he'd thought he was. He was terribly grateful for her arms around him, and her fingers digging into his muscles and her strong, slender body in his arms for him to hold on to while his own went pretty much out of his control.

It was afterward, utterly drained and weak as a newborn calf, that Wade had his own moment of panic. It came when he realized he'd completely forgotten to block.

They never did make it to Tierney's bedroom-not that night. For both of them, for nerves so overtaxed and muscles so spent, the journey of a few yards seemed like a thousand miles.

By slow degrees they managed to move themselves into a reasonably comfortable tangle on the couch, with various unidentified articles of clothing making do for towels and a soft afghan throw-and each other-as covers.

In the last moments of consciousness, Wade mumbled an inquiry-a single word.

"Jeannette?"

Tierney murmured. "She'll sleep late…" And tumbled into oblivion.

Although there hadn't been much left of the night when they'd gone to sleep. Tierney woke at her usual time-partly due to predictable bodily needs and discomforts, she was sure. Leaving Wade snoring peacefully on the couch, she crept off to check on Jeannette-still sound asleep-and then to the bathroom, where she gave the bathtub a longing glance before turning on the shower instead. As nice as it would have been to soak away some of those discomforts she'd awakened with, she didn't trust her hot water supply to last through both a full tub and the shower Wade would surely be wanting when he woke up. And Jeannette was going to need bathing after her evening's adventures, too.

Only when she was standing in the shower with her eyes closed, lovely hot water beating down on her scalp and sluicing over the tender places elsewhere on her body, did she finally let herself think.

Wade.

She opened the door carefully, just a crack at first, like someone unlocking a forbidden vault, nervous about what she would find inside.

He forgot to block.

But she wouldn't be reading too much into the emotions he'd allowed past his barricades last night…earlier this morning. Tierney was a realist; being privy to people's most private and innermost feelings made it pretty much impossible for her not to be.

Not that she thought Wade's emotions weren't real. The beauty of emotions was that they couldn't lie. However, they could be, and often were, fleeting. In the throes of some pretty great sex-and it had been truly awesome; she couldn't repress a smile and some shivers just thinking about it-a man might easily believe himself to be in love with the person who'd provided him with it. Anyone could-something she'd do well to remember-but mostly men. Because, as she was in a unique position to know, men tended to fall in love with the woman they were having great sex with, while women had great sex with the man they were in love with.

So how does that explain what happened to me last night?

It was a question that was obviously going to require a lot more thought, but she'd used more than her share of the hot water already. And the rhythmic thumping she could hear even with the water running meant Gran was awake, and that Wade, if he wasn't already, probably would be very soon.

Wade.

Her insides clenched and her breathing faltered as memories washed over her. She felt as if she'd been caught up in a flood of melted…oh, something warm and sweet and gooey…and she didn't need to be thinking such thoughts, not with Wade out there in the living room and Jeannette pounding on the door of her room demanding to be let out.

She braced herself and turned the shower to cold, and made herself stand under the spray, gasping, until she was covered from head to toe in goose bumps. She thought of it as penance.

Wade had been awake since shortly before Tierney disentangled herself from him and crept away to the bathroom. Though desperately in need of that convenience himself, he hadn't quite felt up to the gymnastics involved in levering himself out of the couch cushions and climbing over a sweetly slumbering woman in order to make use of it. Now he waited until he heard the shower running, then got up. sorted out his pants and pulled them on. then padded barefoot and shirtless to the kitchen to look for coffee.

When Jeannette started pounding on her bedroom door, he considered whether he should go and let her out. Problem was. he doubted she'd remember who he was, and he thought it might be upsetting to the lady to have her door opened by a large bare-chested male stranger.

Or, considering this particular lady, it might not. Either way, he decided to let Tierney handle it.

Once the coffeemaker had burped out enough to fill a cup. he poured one for himself and sat down at the table to think about how this was going to go and what he should do about it. However, it didn't take him long to realize there wasn't much he could conclude about the situation without the other person involved being present and, hopefully, contributing her two cents' worth.

Just seeing her, watching her eyes when she walked into her kitchen and found him sitting at her table drinking her coffee on this "morning after"-that was going to tell him a lot, right there.

His nerves kicked involuntarily when he heard a door open somewhere down the hallway, and then another. He sat calmly, sipping hot coffee and telling himself his heart wasn't beating faster, and listened to the sound of voices- hers, soft and sweet and soothing, and Jeannette's, high and querulous and complaining-and footsteps going here and there, drawers opening and closing. Footsteps again, dying as they crossed the living room rug.

He told himself he wasn't even a wee bit disappointed when it was Jeannette, not Tierney, who wandered into the kitchen, looking freshly scrubbed and remarkably serene after her ordeal. Her hair was brushed and hanging loose on her shoulders like a young girl's, and she wore a flowing caftan in peacock colors that almost matched her eyes.

It must be one of the perks of Alzheimer's, Wade thought, that she'd have no recollection of being lost and scared and all alone in a big city at night.

She hesitated only a moment when she saw him sitting there, then gave him a scrutinizing stare as she came closer. She offered him one white-dove hand and said briskly. '"Well, as you've probably deduced, I am Isabella's mother." The hand nested in his for only a moment, then flitted off in a blithe little wave. "Oh, don't look so alarmed, dear boy, I'm not going to bring out the shotgun. Izzy's a grown woman, you know. She's free to sleep with whomever she pleases."

Wade hastily gulped back whatever it was he'd planned to say as Jeannette shuffled off in the direction of the refrigerator. Halfway there, though, she halted, and a panicky frown pleated her forehead. "I made some coffee," he said gently. "Would you care for some?"

She hesitated for a moment, then turned back to him. eyebrows arched and lips curved in a smile of aching sweetness. Now when she spoke it was in the thick Irish brogue.

"Fer shame. Tommy-me-darlin'. Havin' your little joke. I suppose, since ye know good-n'well how I love me tea in the mornin'…" And she bent down and planted a kiss on the top of Wade's head.

He was saved from having to think how to reply to that by a blessed sound.

"Now, Gran, you know that's not Tommy. Tommy died, remember? A long time ago." Tierney put an arm around her grandmother's waist and gently but firmly guided her to a chair.

Jeannette peered up at her in bewilderment as she sank slowiy into the chair, that heart-tugging smile only a memory. "Izzy?"

"No, darling, it's Tee. And this nice man is Wade Callahan-you met him, remember?" She threw Wade a look and winked, and his breathing stumbled.

She was wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt with a chain of daisies embroidered along the scooped neckline. Her cheeks were flushed and her damp hair had been caught up in a ponytail, the shorter curls already escaping. For the first time in a long while he thought of cheerleaders.

If he hadn't known better, based on some nagging bodily discomforts, he'd have been tempted to suspect the whole night had been some sort of wild erotic fantasy. A wet dream. On steroids.

Lord help him, at least that thought he did remember to block.

Tierney said. '"You made coffee? Thank you." Her smile was like an accolade. He felt as if he'd just been knighted by the queen. "Are you hungry?"

"Like a wolf," he growled, belatedly hoping she'd miss-or at least ignore-the double meaning.

He sat, sipping but not tasting his coffee, and watched her while she fixed Jeannette instant oatmeal with brown sugar and butter, then got out a bowl and a box of Cheerios for herself. She offered to make him something-eggs. French toast, maybe?-but he managed to mumble something to the effect that the Cheerios would be fine. It had been a long time since he'd eaten Cheerios for breakfast.

It was while he was shoveling in spoonfuls of milk and a kids' cereal, listening to an old lady crooning contentedly to her own breakfast, and smiling across the table at the woman with whom he'd just enjoyed the most passionate night of his life, that it came to Wade: he was happy. At that moment, happier than he could remember being in a very long time. Maybe his whole life.

About the time Wade was chasing down the last floating Cheerio, Jeannette got up from the table and wandered off, having forgotten, he assumed, about the remaining half of her breakfast. Resisting the temptation to pick up his bowl and drink the rest of the milk, the way he and Matt used to do when they were kids, he carried the bowl to the sink and exchanged it for the coffeepot. He refilled his own cup and topped off Tierney's, then returned to his chair, picked up his coffee and looked across the table at her.

She gazed back at him, which he found both unsettling and refreshing. Most women, he thought, probably wouldn't know what to do with their eyes the morning after a night like that. Not that he had anything to compare this particular morning after with, the night in question being pretty much unparalleled in his experience.

He let out a breath in a long sigh. "Miss Tee, what are we going to do about this?"

She didn't seem to be able to answer, although he saw her throat work and ripple a few times. But she refused to look away, didn't try to avoid his eyes, and for some reason the fact that she wouldn't let herself off the hook touched him.

"Maybe," he said in a gentler tone, "what I should be asking is…what do you want to do about this?"

Now she did look away, a guilty ducking of her head and lowering of her lashes to veil her eyes, and a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hide a smile behind a quickly raised coffee cup.

He laughed. "Oh.,yeah. Me, too."

After a brief but humid silence, Tierney gave her head a determined shake and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair to you. Wade. I do know what you're asking. We have a professional relationship to consider."

He nodded, watching her closely. "We do. But…something as good as this-and I don't know about you, but for me, that was…as good as it gets. I mean, beyond good. It was-"

She was laughing now, cheeks pink and eyes teary. "Yeah, me, too."

After another of those respectful-awed-silences. Wade shifted in his chair. Shifted gears, serious again. "I guess what I'm asking, is…I think last night happened because you were vulnerable, and maybe I took advantage of that-"

"You didn't."

"Mmm…" The pass, the opportunity to excuse his behavior, was tempting. He shrugged it off, leaned forward, his voice low and tense. "Maybe. But either way, just in case you were thinking that was a one-time thing. I'd hate to think it has to end here just because maybe it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Something this good… damn it, we're good together. Miss Tee. I don't know why, but we are. We can't ignore that."

"No," she whispered.

He saw something in her eyes that made his chest clench. "But?"

She shook her head, worked her throat and looked bravely straight into his eyes again. "But…you have The Job, and I have The Gift. Neither of those things makes for a very optimistic outlook for…whatever this is or might become between us."

"Yeah," he agreed, narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw, determined to be as brave as she was, "I'll grant you, cops do tend to be lousy at relationships."

"And," she went on. "how would you like having to always guard your emotions, twenty-four-seven?"

He smiled crookedly. "Being a cop, I've always pretty much done that anyway."

She acknowledged that with a smile that flickered like a faulty lamp. "Then there's Jeannette. She's only going to get worse, Wade. Harder to deal with. I'll need to keep a constant watch-"

He had no idea what he'd have replied to that. His cell phone, which he'd remembered to put back in its holster when he'd donned his pants, chose that moment to vibrate, startling them both. He unhooked it, glanced at the Caller ID, then punched it on. "Yeah-Callahan."

Tierney watched his face harden as he listened, but she couldn't read him. He was blocking her completely now, and she felt sorry, though not so sure she should be.

It was a short conversation, and on Wade's part, consisted mostly of monosyllables. Then, "On my way," he said, and disconnected. He let out a breath and looked at her.

"Another murder?" she asked softly.

"No. Thank you, God. But we've got a suspect." He pushed back from the table and tilted his head in the general direction of the bathroom. "Mind if I-"

"Of course not. Do you want to shower?"

He was on his feet, now, tucking his phone back in its holster. "I need to go home and get clean clothes, so I'll shower there." He paused to throw her a quick, frowning glance-he was all cop now. "Is there someone you can get to stay with your grandmother?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but he rushed on.

"We've got a warrant to search the suspect's house- last known address, anyway-nobody seems to be there at the moment." He was moving away from her with quick, purposeful strides. She followed him into the living room and stood with her arms wrapped across her waist while he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. "It'd be helpful if you could be there. Absent any concrete evidence, you might be able to tell if we've got the right guy, at least."

The image of a young police officer's mutilated body flashed across her mind, and with it, like a series of blows inside her head, the terrible fear and pain that had been her final moments. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.

Sympathy, regret, anguish and concern were all there in the way he looked at her. He could keep her from "hearing" his emotions, it seemed, but had forgotten to veil his eyes.

Hold me, Wade. Kiss me and take this fear and pain away.

I know what happened should be a one-time thing. But I don't want to lose what we had last night, either!

Please…just for a moment, hold me. Let me remember…

She gathered the feelings and hurled them at him with all her might, like spears. But of course he hadn't The Gift. He couldn't know.

She drew a shuddering breath. 'The girl who helps out in the gallery watches Gran sometimes. Just give me a minute to call her."