In Seconds

9

The motorcycle vibrated beneath Vivian as she clung to the man driving it. Sheriff King seemed to be taking the winding road too fast. But maybe it only felt that way because she hadn’t been on a bike in years. She wasn’t used to the exhilaration, the sense of freedom and power, or the other feelings that arose as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him…?.

He’d given her a leather jacket and a helmet to wear. She hadn’t asked where he’d gotten them but they were obviously closer to her size than his. She assumed they’d belonged to his late wife. It was too sad to imagine what Amber Rose must’ve gone through before she died, and what Myles and Marley must’ve suffered. So Vivian chose not to think about it. She told herself she was simply grateful that he’d been practical enough to bring them. Warm as the day had been, the temperature was dropping rapidly as they barreled through the mountains.

“You okay?” he yelled when she kept shifting.

Her gun, which she’d shoved into her waistband, was cutting into the small of her back. She’d been trying to ease the discomfort and put some space between them at the same time. The gun she could move. But with the bike leaning this way, then that, it required constant effort not to plaster herself against him.

Should she ask him to slow down? No. She’d come out with Myles tonight to convince him that she was tough enough to take care of herself. Learning that she was frightened of riding on a motorcycle would hardly boost his confidence, especially when he seemed so comfortable on the bike, as if it was merely an extension of his muscular body.

“Fine!” she assured him.

Apparently taking her at her word, he opened the throttle, and she squeezed her eyes shut as they flew around the next turn and the next.

After that, Myles didn’t attempt to communicate with her. It was too difficult to hear above the engine. Vivian didn’t want to talk, anyway. The noise created a buffer that distanced her from everything, even her cares and worries. For tonight, her children were safe and so was she. Not only that, she had the whole evening, and the longer they traveled, the easier it became to relax. Soon nothing mattered except the speed and roar of the bike and the man driving it.

After an hour or so, Myles turned off the highway and down a dirt path that led into the woods. She got the impression that he was taking her to a cabin—and he was—but there was also a small clearing that became a beach. It sloped down to a lake about the same size as the one they lived by.

“This is beautiful,” she said when he cut the engine.

He barely grunted. He didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. But she didn’t care that he wasn’t Mr. Congeniality tonight. With the sun beginning to set and the weather so mild, she was content to revel in the moment.

After lowering the kickstand, he waited for her to get off before swinging his own leg over the seat. She hesitated a few steps away, tempted to ask how he’d found this place. But she didn’t. They’d reached a tentative peace, and she didn’t want that to change. Besides, she liked being here without feeling any pressure to entertain him.

He set his helmet on the seat and she handed him hers, which he put beside it. Then he got a sack out of his saddlebags and strode to the cabin as if he assumed she’d follow. He didn’t beckon her or even turn around to see if she was coming.

Something had changed since he’d been at her house earlier. He’d made a decision. She could sense it. He’d been matter-of-fact, purposeful. For her part, she’d been so grateful he wasn’t pressing her for information about her ex-husband or why she had a gun in the house that she’d been willing to discount his aloofness as preoccupation with the murder.

Maybe he wasn’t pleased with the results of the autopsy or he was concerned about some aspect of the case, but so far he hadn’t even checked to be sure she’d brought her gun.

When they got to the door, he pulled out a key with a tag that indicated this was a rental. That was when Vivian realized he’d come here with a very specific agenda, one that had nothing to do with the murder—or the target practice she’d been expecting.

“What’s…” She swallowed hard. “What’s this all about?”

His eyes riveted on hers, but he didn’t answer. He just waved her into the cabin ahead of him.

With walls of half-sawn logs, antler light fixtures and animal-skin rugs, the inside looked like a clean but rustic hunting lodge. They passed through a small mudroom with pegs for coats and a metal trough for snowy boots, which sat empty. After that, they encountered a small kitchen and dining area with a view of the lake. A family room—furnished with a gas stove, U-shaped leather couch and bookshelves crammed with books, magazines and games—took up most of the ground floor, along with a master suite at the back, a half bath and a ladder leading to a loft where, Vivian guessed, she’d find more beds, probably bunk beds for renters who had children.

So…why were they here?

Her palms began to sweat as she became more and more certain of his intentions.

Folding her arms, she backed up against the closest wall. “I don’t understand.” That was a lie; she understood very well. Too well. She just didn’t know why he’d changed his mind.

He threw the keys on the kitchen table and tossed her the bag he’d carried in.

Vivian was almost afraid to open it. When she did, she barely resisted the urge to drop it and run outside. “You brought…condoms?” Her voice went up on the last syllable; she couldn’t help it. There was other stuff in there, too. Lubricant. Lotion. A G-string. She could hardly breathe as she took the G-string out and held it up. “Really?”

A boyish grin curved his lips. “Put that on for me.”

He couldn’t be serious. When she merely gaped at him, he stood in front of her with one hand on the wall above her head. “This is what you wanted, right?” He ran a finger down the side of her face. “What you asked me to give you?”

Yes! But that was last night. She’d been drunk last night. Today she wasn’t so sure. “I—”

“Don’t worry.” His thumb caught on her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. “I accept your terms. You can have it your way.”

“My terms?” There was an air of mischief about him. This wasn’t what it seemed. And yet…

His eyes met hers again. “No repeats. No strings attached. Tomorrow, we’ll go our separate ways as if it never happened. But for now, you can have it as down and dirty as you want.”

Down and dirty. He was trying to intimidate her, make her nervous. And it was working. “What about my, um…what about the gun? I thought—”

“You have it with you?”

“You said to bring it.” She removed it from her waistband and he took it but only so he could put it on the table.

“We’ll deal with that another day.”

“Why not now?”

He grinned again. “You’re stalling.”

Breathing became as difficult as swallowing. “It’s important, don’t you think?”

“It can wait.”

She twisted to be able to see her Sig. “How long?”

Cocking his head to the side, he blocked her view of anything else and gave her a look that taunted her sudden terror. “What’s the matter, Vivian? You were sure talking tough last night. Been making promises you can’t keep?”

Frantically trying to gain control of the situation, or at least to stop panicking, she licked her lips. “You—you turned me down, remember?”

“You’d had too much to drink. I couldn’t take advantage of my beautiful neighbor.”

“That’s the only reason you refused?”

“No,” he said. “But you’re not going to hold that against me, are you?”

She didn’t know what to do. Shoving him out of the way so she could get to the door came to mind. She knew he’d let her go. But beautiful neighbor had her a bit entranced. And the way he was looking at her added to the paralysis caused by those words, made her feel as if she was melting from the inside out. “Your rejection was pretty humiliating.”

She was teasing—and stalling—and he knew it. He toyed with the hair above her ear. “Good. Now you know how it feels.”

“That’s why, when someone turns you down, you don’t ask again,” she said.

“Unless you can tell they don’t really want to turn you down.”

What could she say to that? She already knew he’d noticed her acute interest in him. He’d mentioned it last night.

“So here’s your chance to say yes,” he prompted.

His warm breath carried the scent of spearmint gum. She liked spearmint…?. “What if I stick with no?”

“Then you have to go out with me. Dinner in Libby. Once.”

So that was his game. But if they went to dinner, they’d talk. He’d ask her where she was from, if she had any family, where her family lived, why she had no contact with them. She’d have to dance around the truth, one question after another. He’d think he was getting to know her when, in reality, he’d only be coming to know the fictional character she’d created. What was the point?

She hated the lies. That was the reason she didn’t date, why she avoided social gatherings altogether, at least any that required conversation beyond the superficial, especially if she didn’t have the buffer of her children. “And if I say yes?”

His smile disappeared. “You know what you’ll get if you say yes.” He’d been setting her up, forcing her into a corner this whole time, hoping she’d capitulate and date him. But he was aroused. Maybe he’d crept a little too close to the fire. Because if she said yes, she had no doubt he’d deliver. There’d be no talk. Only sensation. Like the ride on his bike. She could completely escape her life, her precarious situation. For however long it lasted, she wouldn’t be touched by the fear that constantly plagued her. And then, after that, there’d be no contact.

“I’m not so bad to have dinner with,” he murmured. Obviously he’d rented this cabin, purchased sex aids and put her on the spot because he believed that with her normal inhibitions back in place she’d chicken out. He was calling her bluff, trapping her into finally accepting his dinner invitation.

But she wasn’t going to accept a date. She was going to call his bluff instead.

Standing on her tiptoes, she ran her tongue along his bottom lip. “Take off your clothes.”

Those four words hit Myles’s nervous system like a shot of heroin, or how he imagined a shot of heroin would feel. He’d heard druggies talk about the experience, heard them explain that first high was so spectacular it blew a person’s mind—which was why heroin was so addictive.

He had a feeling he could get addicted to this, to Vivian. Which made the self-preservation instinct that’d carried him away from her house last night kick in again. But he pushed his better judgment aside. Vivian wasn’t supposed to choose the way she had! He’d seen how skittish she was, how she’d hidden the sight of her braless chest from him earlier. She retreated from anything intimate, even from making close friends. He’d believed that, without the wine, she’d naturally refuse, and then…

Oh, hell. None of that mattered anymore. He was only human, and no single man he knew would be able to refuse Vivian, not with her hands up his shirt and her mouth on his. He was pretty sure he was harder than he’d ever been—

The memory of kissing Amber Rose for the first time suddenly rose up, and affected him almost like a physical shock. Surprised and shaken that such a vignette would appear in his mind now, he pulled back. Having sex with someone other than his late wife didn’t necessarily feel like a betrayal. He knew Amber Rose would want him to move on, to find someone else, to be happy. It’d been three years since she died. It was the amount of desire flooding through him that was the problem. He wanted Vivian with a desperation he’d never experienced before. She wasn’t just a stand-in because he couldn’t have Amber Rose, and that jolted everything he’d come to believe about himself and his marriage.

Vivian glared defiantly up at him. She knew, he realized. She’d felt him jerk, understood he was suffering from some kind of hesitancy or regret, but she had no idea why. And he wasn’t about to tell her. It gave her, basically an unknown entity and certainly an untrustworthy one with all her evasions and secrets, too much power over him. He wasn’t sure why his feelings were so disproportionate to what they should be, given how little he knew of her, but that was the reality. She appealed to him on such a basic level that logic had no control.

“Apparently you’re the one making promises you can’t keep.” Attempting to laugh off his withdrawal, she slipped out of his grasp and started for the door. He’d take her home if she insisted, but he caught her before she could leave the cabin.

“Don’t chicken out.”

She didn’t turn. “Myles, you don’t have to—”

Sliding his arms around her waist, he pulled her up against him and gently bit her neck. “I said don’t go.”

His voice sounded ragged even to his own ears. He pressed into her, making it obvious that he wanted her. But she didn’t relax and begin to respond to him again until he reached under her jacket and unsnapped her bra.

“Nice,” he whispered as her nipples hardened against his palms.

Although he hadn’t removed his clothes, as she’d told him to, she allowed him to dispense with her coat and T-shirt. Her bra went next. He could see her bare breasts from his vantage point, which was slightly above and behind her, and cupped them more gently, more reverently, because rushing this early contact would be a terrible waste.

She was larger than Amber Rose. Taller, bigger-boned, bigger-breasted. He didn’t want to make comparisons, had told himself he wouldn’t. But this one was inevitable. Her long legs put her ass almost even with his groin and although she was still wearing jeans, her backside was a soft cradle for his erection.

“You’re beautiful.” He was about to bend his head to nuzzle her ear when she turned to face him. Judging by her expression, he’d said something wrong.

“Don’t waste my time with meaningless remarks,” she said.

She thought his compliment was meaningless? That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He found her stunning, gorgeous, which was going to be a problem. Forgetting about this afterward would be easier if he admired her less. He still wasn’t sure how that part of the deal was going to work. Whenever he caught sight of Vivian, he knew he’d remember this heart-stopping image of her standing in front of him with her wary blue eyes, boyish haircut and bare breasts.

But there’d be time enough to worry about tomorrow and all the days after. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

He reached for her, but she held him off. “So…you don’t hate my haircut?”

He almost laughed. Another challenge. And yet there was a hint of insecurity beneath her question that he found endearing, especially after all her rejections. “No, I don’t hate your haircut. I wasn’t sure at first, but…I like it.”

She remained skeptical. “They’ve done studies. Most guys aren’t attracted to women with short hair.”

Was that why she’d cut it? She was so contrary, so ready to dismiss the whole world, daring him or any other man to like her.

“Then maybe they asked the wrong guys, because I think what you’ve done is sexy as hell.” So was the rest of her. She was different, intriguing. She was also rebellious—but, oddly enough, that made him want to protect her. Convince her that she could trust him.

It also warned him that losing Amber Rose might not be the only painful thing he’d ever experience.

Myles eyed her as if he couldn’t quite figure out what was going through her head. “So…are we fine?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

Vivian wasn’t sure. Rational thought was beginning to intrude, beginning to make her question why she was behaving so irresponsibly. “I’m reconsidering…”

“What?”

Everything, but she could only admit to part of it. “This. I’ve only been with two other men in my life. My husband and a steady boyfriend.” Who was currently missing. “This situation is so…different, so reckless, so—”

“You’re telling me you’re not as brave as you pretend to be?”

“I don’t want to make a mistake. I—”

Whatever she was about to say fled her mind as he took her face between his large hands and kissed her tenderly. “I’m going to take good care of you, Vivian. You believe that, don’t you?”

She did. He was a cop. Taking care of people wasn’t only his job, it was part of his nature. She liked that about him. The problem was that she wasn’t taking good care of him. If, after this was all over, she couldn’t replace the barricade she’d tried so hard to maintain between them, she could be putting him in harm’s way.

“I believe you’ll try,” she said. “But…we shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t…you need to pick someone else. You have a lot of options.”

His hands dropped to the curve of her waist and held her in place as he lowered his head. “I don’t want anyone else,” he whispered, and drew the tip of her breast into his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue caused darts of pleasure to race through Vivian’s blood, interfering with her ability to think. “You promise you won’t ever call me again?” she gasped, trying to stand firm.

He looked up at her as though he might change the rules or question why it had to be that way. But when she unzipped his fly and began running her fingers over him, his chest lifted as if the contact had just kicked his heart up into his throat. “I promise.”

His voice sounded strangled. She knew the way she’d exacted his agreement hadn’t been fair. But she planned to hold him to his word. She had no choice.

“Good. Kiss me again,” she whispered.