Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(24)

An image formed in his mind of her, more mature, still beautiful. His. He slid his hand up her arm to cup behind her neck, her hair flowing over his fingers with such familiarity it could have been ten years ago, just before they’d both gone so off course. “That’s the Anastasia I remember.”

He urged her toward him, and she didn’t resist. In fact, her hands slid over his shoulders, and she flowed right into his arms. Her mouth to his. Her body every bit as delicate as he remembered.

God, she tasted sweet, of lemonade and Stacy. Her tongue against his, her soft hands touching his neck, his face. Such simple caresses but after so long without her, this kiss, having her so close, was everything.

As teenagers, they’d snuck out and hidden in the hayloft to make out, the fresh, earthy scent all around them. She was his first real kiss at sixteen. The first woman he’d ever touched. They’d done everything except have sex for the next two years because she was terrified of getting pregnant. Scared of being like her mom. Young and trapped, and he would have done anything to protect her.

He’d thought he was giving her what she wanted when he’d walked away. Instead, he’d failed to protect her in the most fundamental way ever. She could have died. She’d been in so much more danger here than he’d ever been in overseas, and that gnawed at his gut. He should have checked up on her. They’d meant too much to each other to have let that go.

The warm swipe of her tongue reminded him of all the times they’d tasted every inch of each other, desperate to ease the ache from wanting each other and holding back from the final consummation. He burned to taste her now, to run his fingers through her whispery fine hair…still strawberry blond, she’d said, but darker… His hands roved her body, searching for changes and similarities, desperate to “see” her as best he could, through his fingertips.

He slid his hands lower, down her back to draw her into his lap—

Radar barked, startling them both.

Stacy laughed self-consciously. “I guess he’s jealous.”

Or smart, because Gavin knew he was moving too fast with her. But the sound of her rapid breaths against his cheek, the feel of goose bumps on her skin, and that kitten purr in the back of her throat told him she was every bit as aroused as he was.

Could he act on that? Was this a second chance to be with her? He had a helluva lot less to offer her now than he had then, but damn it. Walking away from Stacy, especially now, was not an option.

His hands skimmed up and down her spine before he eased back. He needed to take care of security first before acting further on the passion between them, a desire that hadn’t dimmed one bit over the years. Where that would lead? He didn’t know. But they had to find out. “I’ve missed you, Stacy.”

“Gavin, I’m confused. Why did you kiss me?”

“Because we needed to clear that up before dealing with anything else,” he answered as honestly as he knew how. “Because I needed to know if you still tasted the same. I was wrong.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

His thumb stroked across her lips. “You taste even better.”





CHAPTER 3


Her head still spinning from the kiss, Stacy sagged back in her chair in Gavin’s sparsely decorated kitchen, crossing her arms over her chest in counter-pressure against her breasts that ached for his caress. Her eyes scanned the place, looking anywhere but at him. She took in the accommodations she’d missed at first. Minimal furniture. Clear pathways. Braille labels everywhere. No cabinets left open.

A long white cane in the corner by the door.

He eased back into his seat, broad shoulders stretching the gray T-shirt until she could see the cut of his muscles. His long legs stretched in front of him, making his jeans look mighty damn fine. And there was no missing the press of his arousal.

Her heart hitched. Her body hummed from wanting him. Had she ever stopped? “We can’t just pick up where we left off, Gavin. It’s been ten years.”

“Then why did you come over?” His head tipped to the side, a long, dark lock of hair falling over the scars on his forehead. “You could have ignored my text.”

Hah. Not hardly. “I had to find out why you didn’t let me know you’d returned.”

“I’ve actually only been back for four weeks.” He shrugged. “I was working up my nerve.”

She shook her head in disbelief only to remember he couldn’t see her. “Since when have you been afraid of anything?”

“Only idiots don’t have fears. A healthy dose of caution keeps a person alive.” He leaned a muscular elbow on the table, his fingers toying absently along her arm. “So let’s talk about what we need to do to keep you safe. Then we’ll deal with how damn good that kiss felt.”

His words sucked the oxygen from the room. Her arm still tingled from just a simple stroke. “My problems with my ex-husband aren’t yours to take on.”

“Like hell.” His square jaw flexed, his hands clenching. “If last night is anything to go by, you have every reason to fear he’ll harm you.”

She forced herself to admit the worst, the part she’d held back, a part that she feared could send him over the edge wanting to protect her. She needed to make sure he stayed safe. “Six months ago, when he broke in, I tried to protect myself with a knife. He…he took it from me and cut me, on my side…”