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Authors: Elizabeth Finn

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Chapter Thirty-Three

 

“Dillon called again today, Trink.”

Katrina’s brow instantly furrowed but she said nothing.
She’d replaced her phone already but she was guessing he didn’t know that. Why
would he? She was refusing to speak to him.

Oddly, it wasn’t even as though she didn’t want to speak to
him or see him. She missed him so much it hurt. But she didn’t know how to go
back to a life with him. Maybe she’d been right when she’d suggested that
adrenaline was fueling their relationship. Perhaps her desire for him would
fade away with time.

Perhaps she was just a damn idiot. She loved him. She didn’t
question it for even one moment. Adrenaline hadn’t fueled their relationship—they
had. And they’d done it easily. But so much had happened.

She’d fucked up and endangered his son and that was always
going to be there between them she feared. He’d lashed out and shown her just
how cruel and terrifying he could be. She’d deserved it but she wasn’t sure she
could cope with it.

She was tired of feeling guilty. She’d never been prone to
guilt so easily before, but it was a constant thing for her now and she was
sick and damn tired of feeling as though her life was sullying everyone else’s
around her.

She’d met with a counselor earlier in the week at Imogen’s
urging. Apparently you couldn’t be part of killing a person—even a bad one—and
come out unscathed. She was going to be seeing the kindly older woman a couple of
times a week for a while and she was oddly looking forward to it. Daphne was
her name. Of course, it reminded her of Dillon’s mother Delphi but she just had
to push those thoughts from her mind.

Daphne hadn’t thought she was crazy at all when she’d talked
about the incessant and ceaseless guilt that plagued her. She’d understood it
fully. She’d even given her insight into it and explained it in such a way that
Katrina questioned why she’d ever been confused by it.

Of course it made sense. Her life had affected so many
others—others’ lives who she valued as much as her own—and it was impossible
not to feel guilt for the pain and fear they’d been caused. Daphne applauded
Katrina’s guilt. She didn’t think it was warranted at this point but she
applauded Katrina’s depth of caring for those around her.

Naturally that brought her to Dillon. She avoided talking
about him as long as possible but every avenue they explored seemed to lead
back to him. Eventually she gave in.

“Why do you think you’re avoiding him?”

She shrugged. It was their second meeting, five days after
DOP—death of psycho as she’d dubbed it. Psychos in her case. What had she done
to attract two such lovely men? Katrina had struggled to attract even one
decent man in the past and suddenly, she had one gold mine of a keeper who wanted
to marry her, and two psychopaths on her tail all at once. Perhaps the two
psychos were nature’s way of saying
tut tut tut, you don’t deserve Dillon,
little girl
.

“I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. So, how about you explain it to me?”

She glanced out Daphne’s window before looking back to her
kind and motherly eyes—at least what Kat thought motherly eyes would look like.
She had no real frame of reference of course.

“I think he’s too good for me.” She hated the sound of her
voice when she said it. She hated the words too. There wasn’t a single person
who cared about her who would agree with that analogy and yet it was what she
felt.

“Why?”

She thought about that for a moment. She wasn’t even sure
how to put it into words. There had been something amazing about seeing Dillon
standing in the driveway with his gun trained on Josh. His focus was singular
and determined. His incredible need to protect her had overridden his own
safety, his own job, everything. Everything for her.

She, on the other hand, had made one stupid mistake after
another, ultimately landing her in the clutches of psychopath number one. She
was back to guilt again. She knew that. But it was the truth.

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again and then
finally took a deep breath and tried to explain.

“I’m almost mesmerized by his strength, his morality, his
decency. He really is all those things. He may not be perfect but he’s amazing.
I guess I’m just not sure what he could possibly see in me. I’ve screwed up. A
lot. I mean he was willing to give up so much for me and I couldn’t seem to
hack it. His own son’s life was jeopardized by me. That would never have
happened to him. He’d have been too smart to let it.”

Daphne stared at her slowly shaking her head. “First of all,
he’s a cop, so no duh. He’s trained to think about these things in a way you’re
not. Second of all, you made a great man fall in love with you all while
dealing with psychopaths and your life being in danger. And you did all that
without losing your mind.” She was smiling sweetly.

“Really?” Kat was being sarcastic.

“Yes, really. You’re not crazy, dear. You’re exhausted,
you’re coping, you’re learning what it’s like to not have to fear death
literally every second of your waking life again. These things affect a person
in a big way. Relief that you’re safe may be the obvious emotion you would
expect to feel but that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing you should expect to
feel right now. I’ll say it again, these things affect a person.”

“See? Crazy.”

“Not crazy. Normal. Cut yourself some slack. You’ve been
through hell and back over the past couple months. You dealt with it and you
survived it. Stop selling yourself short. This whole disaster has taken its
toll on you but it’s done now. It’s time to get your life back.”

Daphne’s eyes flashed to the clock on the wall and she
cocked her head to the side. “Time’s up. So, Tuesday and Friday next week too?”

Katrina nodded as she stood. “Thanks, Daphne.”

Daphne hugged her before Katrina left. It was Friday and
Imogen had made Katrina promise to go out to a movie that night. She was
looking forward to it after a week of sitting at Imogen’s alone during the day
just so Imogen could bring home all the well-wishes from their coworkers every
night.

But even as she pulled from her parking spot at the clinic
with a small measure of optimism, she lost it when she thought of him.

* * * * *

“Hi, Imogen.” She looked wary. She was going to turn him
away and she didn’t want to. That’s what she looked like.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?” She glanced behind her as if looking to see
if the coast was clear.

“I’m not sure that’s…I’m sorry. She’s just…I don’t know what
she is. Confused?”

“It’s my fault. Imogen, I really need to talk to her.”

“Do you love her?” She looked horribly concerned.

“You know I do.”

“I mean
really
love her? Like rest-of-her-life love
her?”

“I told her I wanted to marry her, didn’t I? Yes, I do.”

“Then figure out some way to convince her she deserves
that.” Her expression was almost pleading, worried. “She’s upstairs. I assume
you know where you’re going?”

He nodded as he stepped into her entryway. “Umm…Stephens
asked me to tell you hi.” The feisty Brit beside him was suddenly blushing and
a small smile crept over her lips. But Dillon had another destination in mind.

He hopped the stairs two at a time. He might have looked in
a hurry to get to her and he was—but he was also terrified and he was trembling
even as he moved forward. When he reached her door, he knocked.

“I said I’d be down in a few, Imogen. For fuck’s sake,
woman. Don’t you British bitches have any patience?” He laughed quietly before
he could stop himself. She certainly sounded like his Kat.

He pushed the door open and caught her in a robe, sitting on
a chair in front of the French doors out to the balcony, rubbing lotion into
her leg. She craned her neck around and sucked in a quick and shocked breath.

“Well I’m not British and the last woman to call me a bitch
had handcuffs on and I was reading her her rights—but you nailed me on the
patience. Never has been my strong suit.”

She took a steadying breath as she stood. He could hear her
breathing tremble as she exhaled and he could see it in her diaphragm as he
watched her chest fall. She covered her mouth with her hand and as she did her
brow furrowed, her nostrils flared and her eyes filled with tears.

He fought the emotion pricking at the back of his eyes and
he stared at her. She’d not said a word to him, and he wasn’t sure he could
handle it if she sent him packing.

When she turned back to the window, he saw her head shake
subtly. He approached her as his heart hammered and panicked. He couldn’t let
her destroy them. He loved her too much and he knew she loved him too. She’d
have to do a damn good job convincing him otherwise if she expected him to
leave her in peace.

He reached for her shoulders, clasping them in his hands as
he closed in behind her body. The sun was setting out over the water and he
wanted to be able to enjoy such an incredible view with her. But that wasn’t
going to happen until they made it past this hurdle.

He leaned down to her and she turned slightly toward him.

“I told you once we don’t do separate anymore. We’re a
whole, you and I.” She took another deep and shuddering breath. “I may have
tried to convince you otherwise in my anger and you may have believed me in
your need to hold yourself responsible and guilty, but it changes nothing. We
are and always will be as whole as ever.”

He waited for something—anything at all—but she just stared
straight ahead. It wasn’t all she was doing though. She sniffed back the tears
that were falling silently.

“Please look at me?” She turned slowly toward him. She
looked up to him but her eyes dropped quickly to his chest. “Please, Kat.”

He cupped her chin in his hand and gently urged her face to
tilt up to his. When she finally held his gaze without looking away he spoke.
“I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She let out a pained sob as her gaze shifted from him again
but he pulled her face back again. “I love you.” He said it forcefully as
though he could only make her truly understand if she heard the power behind
what he was saying. “Tell me you don’t love me if you want me to go.”

He believed she loved him. From the bottom of his heart he
believed it, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified waiting to hear her say it.

“I love you.”

It was barely more than a whisper but the moment it was out
of her mouth he attacked her lips. He kissed the mouth he thought he’d never
get the chance to kiss again and he tasted her warmth as though he’d been
deprived a lifetime.

Her body stilled in shock at first, but that lasted only a
moment before she turned the force of her lips on him. He pushed her body back
to the bed and when he turned her to face the bed he reached around her to undo
the sash tied at her waist.

He quickly pulled his t-shirt off over his head and he
splayed one hand out on her lower stomach, holding her body close to his. His
chest and stomach were tight to her back and he leaned down, kissing the top of
her shoulder before he undid the button at his waist and lowered his zipper
with his free hand.

He shoved his pants and underwear down, letting them drop to
the floor. When he leaned forward into the back side of her body she took the
hint and leaned down to climb onto the bed.

He followed, keeping his body close to hers as he kicked his
shoes off and stepped out of his pants. He yanked his socks off quickly as he
climbed behind her to cover her most incredible figure with his. He was
straddling her hips just below her bottom and he was so aroused it was
difficult to not simply push his way between her legs and into her body.

Instead of that he leaned down and kissed gently along the
side of her neck as she moaned and whimpered. “I love you.” He whispered the
words in her ear before he kissed her neck again.

He kissed a trail along the back of her neck as he moved her
long hair out of his way and when he ended up at her other ear he whispered
again. “I love you.” He kissed along her shoulders and every so often he’d take
a break to whisper it again. “I love you.”

When he rolled her over to face him her eyes were puffy and
she still had tears on her cheeks. He kissed them away. “I love you.” He
couldn’t stop telling her what she meant to him and she just watched him. He
kissed her mouth. “I love you.”

He kissed a trail down to her breast that now had only the
faintest of scars running across it. “I love you.” Over to her other breast. He
pulled her nipple between his lips and she whimpered. “I love you.” He moved
farther down her body over her tummy and between her legs and he took a break
from telling her how much he loved her, long enough to lie between her legs and
latch his mouth to her sex.

She started writhing beneath his mouth and her hands quickly
found his as their fingers wove together and gripped each other. He sucked her
clit between his lips, pulling and licking at it and he listened as she started
to fall apart. It left her stomach muscles contracting as he watched her body
twitch through her orgasm and when he finally crawled back up her body he
kissed her once. “I love you.”

She bit her lip as he spoke and then she reached to his
face. She caressed his lower lip, studying him as her fingers moved. She
reached up and brushed a finger along his brow and hers flinched as she
watched. She trailed that same finger down the bridge of his nose to end on his
top lip and then she leaned up and kissed him. “I love you too.”

His cock was already nestled between the warm, wet lips of
her sex and when he started to push into her he reached down, touching her
spot—the spot she loved to feel. He framed his fingers on either side of her
opening, pushing slowly into her body. He could feel his dick pushing past his
fingers and into her tightness and he groaned until he’d finally pushed all the
way in.

BOOK: Conflicting Interests
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