Hot Pursuit (10 page)

“Four? Wow, a lot happens in ten years.”

“Yeah. The second one left him when I was
still in high school. The third lasted a couple of years. The
fourth will be here forever, I imagine.”

“Really?”

Matt nodded. “Misty Lee really loves him,
though God knows why.”

At that moment, the guest cottage came into
view from behind a stand of trees. Having originally been a
carriage house, the building sat a good distance away from the main
estate. A hundred years ago, the smell of horses would have been
too strong for the residence’s inhabitants.

Matt parked inside the garage and came around
to help her out of the car, though she didn’t need it and had
climbed out before he could get there.

“What?” She crossed her arms, feeling
suddenly self-conscious with the lights of the garage shining down
on her and the damp dress that clung to her body.

“I was coming to open the door for you.”

Evie smiled. “Aw, that’s sweet. You still
remember your Junior Cotillion training.”

He grinned at her and rubbed a hand over his
nape. “Well, yeah.”

The only reason she’d had cotillion training
was because she’d begged her mama for it after Matt had to go.
They’d learned how to behave like little ladies and gentlemen, and
clearly those lessons had stuck. She couldn’t remember the last
time a man had tried to open a car door for her.

“Since you clearly don’t need help out of the
car, let’s go in.” He turned and led her into the house, flipping
on lights and setting down his keys as they went. Evie’s legs were
wobbly, and she shivered anew at the coolness of the house as
compared to outside. To think she’d actually wanted air
conditioning earlier.

She rubbed her bare upper arms as goose bumps
popped up.

“You can use the master bath.” Matt flipped
on a light switch in the bedroom before continuing across the room.
Evie’s gaze stumbled over the king-size bed. The covers were
twisted, the sheets rumpled. The room smelled faintly masculine,
both spicy and woodsy.

Matt turned to her as he reached the bathroom
and flipped on the light. Then he frowned. “Are you cold?”

She nodded.

He walked over and put his arms around her
and she leaned into his heat as it enveloped her. Though she’d
danced with him only an hour ago, it was still astonishing to be
against his body like this again. He was solid, warm, and smelled
like earth and man.

“You’ve had a shock.” His voice was smooth
and calming. “It’ll take a little time to process it all, but
you’ll be fine.”

She was already starting to thaw. “I’m sure
the shower will help.”

“Yeah.” He stepped away and put his hand in
the small of her back, propelling her toward the bathroom. “There’s
a robe on the back of the door. I’ll find something you can wear
home.”

Evie glanced up at him. “I ought to call my
mama first. If she hears about what happened—”

“I’ll do it for you,
chère
. You’d only
upset her with your version.”

She blinked. “Version?”

He rubbed her arms, his touch leaving a trail
of sensation up and down her skin. “Trust me.”

“She’s at the Moose Lodge playing bingo.”
Evie cocked a hip and gave him an even stare. “Don’t think I don’t
know you’ve been taking control of this situation since the lights
went out.”

His eyes gleamed as he shrugged. “And I
figure the first instant you don’t feel like doing something the
way I want you to, you’ll tell me to go to hell.”

“Damn straight.”

He grinned. “It’s what I love about you, Evie
Baker.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He was teasing her,
but those words slid under her skin and set up a longing she hadn’t
felt in years. “I’m going to remind you that you said that.”

His gaze slipped over her, and heat followed
in its wake. “Take your shower, Evie.”

She closed the door, her pulse throbbing in
her throat and her temples. What the hell? She hadn’t seen Matt
Girard in ten years, and she was panting over him as if high school
and her crush were only yesterday.

Evie lay her forehead against the door and
stood there for a long moment, breathing. So many things had
happened tonight, so many feelings pinging around inside her. Matt
was just as confusing and compelling as he’d ever been. Maybe more
so, considering everything they’d said to each other and the way
he’d held her on the dance floor before Jimmy cut the lights.

He’d seemed thoughtful. Even vulnerable in
some hidden way she hadn’t quite figured out. She wanted to wrap
her arms around him and not let go until she knew all his secrets.
Until this itching under her skin went away.

Forget it
, she told herself.
You
aren’t going there
.

But damn she wanted to.

* * *

She wasn’t coming out. Matt looked at his
watch and realized it had been nearly forty minutes since Evie had
gone into the bathroom. He shoved a hand through his damp hair—he’d
gone across the hall to the guest room and taken a quick shower,
then changed into fresh clothes that weren’t streaked with dirt—and
stared at the closed door to the master bath.

He could still hear water running. He stepped
up and rapped on the door. “Evie?”

She didn’t answer. After a moment’s
hesitation, he tested the door. It swung open.

“Evie?”

“Go away.” Her voice came from the shower
enclosure. It sounded smaller and more uncertain than it should. He
told himself that he hadn’t seen her in ten years. That he didn’t
know her the way he once had. That he didn’t have the right to push
her into talking to him or into coming out of that shower.

And yet he knew something of what she was
going through. He understood the crash that came after that kind of
adrenaline surge. He understood the self-doubt and the impact of
the sudden knowledge of what could have happened. What
might
have happened. She’d witnessed the kind of violence she probably
wasn’t accustomed to in her everyday life.

And he’d been a part of it when he’d taken
Jimmy down.

No, he couldn’t walk away. He wouldn’t. Matt
went over and leaned against the marble vanity. Citrus-scented
steam curled overhead and he flipped on the switch for the fan.

He could hear Evie’s gasp. “Go away, Matt!
I’m not done yet.”

In that moment, hearing the uncertainty and
plaintive note in her voice, Matt almost wished he’d broken Jimmy’s
other arm too. “I’m sorry to intrude,
chère
. But I’ve been
through this kind of thing. I know what you’re feeling.”

“I’m not feeling anything. I’m just taking a
shower.”

He almost smiled at the underlying current of
steel he heard that time. If she could say that to him, in that
tone of voice, then maybe she wasn’t feeling too badly. He’d been
worried about how she would react once the reality of being held
captive set in.

The incident hadn’t lasted long, and Jimmy
hadn’t hurt her, but he had threatened her with that knife. And
he’d called her a bitch. He’d also fired a weapon repeatedly and
dangerously. Evie would have to be superhuman—or hardened by
combat—not to react to the feelings of powerlessness she’d have
felt at the time.

“You’ve been in there a long time.”

She didn’t speak at first. “I hadn’t
noticed.”

“Bet the water’s only lukewarm by now.”

Another long pause. “It’s cooler than it
was.”

“Why don’t you come on out then?”

“Why am I acting like this?” Her voice was
hard, as if she were angry with herself. “Nothing happened. It’s
over and no one got hurt. So why can’t I stop thinking about
it?”

Matt sighed. He didn’t have an answer for
her. He was still battling his own demons. The only difference was
that he’d been trained to deal with it. That and the military
psychologists who evaluated him and the team every time they
returned from a mission.

Usually, he put everything that happened in
the field into a box in his head and left it there. This time, the
box wouldn’t stay closed. Marco and Jim kept coming back to haunt
him. It didn’t happen as much anymore, but he still woke up in a
cold sweat sometimes, reaching for his weapon and determined to
kill every goddamn thing between him and his men.

“It’s not every day some idiot waves a knife
at you and threatens your safety. You’re entitled to get upset
about it.”

“Maybe so. But I want to be able to do what
you did. I want to know what to do if someone ever threatens me
again.” She sucked in a breath. “You took him down so fast. I
didn’t even see what you did.”

“I’ll teach you a couple of moves.” He
surprised himself with the declaration, especially when he had to
be back in North Carolina soon for the hearing that would determine
his fate in HOT. Just thinking of the hearing gave him a chill. He
didn’t know for sure his career was over, but he had to force
himself to consider the possibility. Better to be prepared for it
than to be blindsided.

Still, he’d manage to show Evie something
before he went. He’d teach her a maneuver or two that would give
her confidence, then insist she enroll in a self-defense course to
learn more.

“Really?”

“Yeah, when I get done with you, the Army
will come calling.”

“I’m a chef.”

“So you’ll be a deadly one.”

“Cool.” Her voice was smaller than he liked,
but still strong. Evie had never let anything cow her for long.

“You ready to come out of there?”

After another moment, the water lessened to a
trickle and then ceased. Matt reached for a towel and held it over
the wall. When he felt a soft tug, he let go. He knew he should
leave now and give her some privacy, but the truth was he didn’t
want to go. He had a burning desire to see her clad in nothing but
a towel.

But that was territory he didn’t need to
explore, he reminded himself. Earlier, he’d wanted to be with her
simply because she made him feel oddly grounded and connected
again, but now there was more to it. He wanted to see her naked,
wanted to lose himself in her for a few hours, but he didn’t know
what that kind of intimacy would do to her.

Or to him.

She appeared in the door, looking smaller and
more vulnerable than when she’d walked in. Her wet hair was slicked
to her head, and she’d scrubbed off her makeup. She looked like a
little girl, like a woman who needed his strength and his
protection. He hadn’t seen that look on her face in a long, long
time.

A stone settled in his gut. Not since the
night he’d taken her virginity. He should have told her to go away,
to forget it, but he hadn’t been in control of his impulses. Until
that night, he’d done a good job of keeping her about twelve years
old in his head. Oh, he’d gotten a jolt a few times when he’d
looked at her and realized she’d grown out of her tomboy ways, but
he’d always managed to put her back into the mental slot he kept
her in.

She looked up at him now, twisting the knife
in his belly. The towel covered her from breasts to knees, but it
wasn’t quite enough. There was definite movement in his groin. He
turned his back on her, fetched a thick robe from its hook on the
door, and handed it to her.

“I’ll get some clothes for you,” he said, not
having managed to complete that task yet. He left her standing
there and went into the bedroom, welcoming the blast of cold air
conditioning that hit him.

He rummaged through the drawers, found a silk
nightgown that was more night than gown. Damn Misty Lee. If it
wasn’t one thing it was another. Fuzzy pink handcuffs, a variety of
lotions and edible panties in the bedside table, and now this. He
fingered the lacy cups as the damn thing sent his imagination into
hyperspace.

And after the past few months of celibacy,
his imagination didn’t need any help. He shook his head and dropped
the gown.

Yep, that’s what happened when your stepmama
was a former stripper with a romantic soul. She stocked the place
like a brothel. He’d have paid money to see his Great-Aunt
Maybelle’s reaction the last time she visited. No wonder she’d
insisted on staying up at the house this time.

Matt dug out a pair of athletic shorts and a
T-shirt from the duffle he’d left open on the stand. The bathroom
door was open, so he walked in and set the clothes on the vanity
bench.

Evie stood at the mirror, trying to comb out
a snarl. “Do you have any scissors?”

He blinked. “You want to cut your hair?”

“Just this,” she said, yanking.

“Here.” He walked over, took the comb away,
and tried to separate the knot with his fingers. “Just like getting
a tangle around your reel. Can’t sacrifice all that fishing line
for one knot, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Patience was never my
strong suit, remember?”

He laughed. “Yeah, you were fun to play with
when we were kids, but I seem to remember the fishing never went
all that well.”

She frowned. “I don’t like standing
around.”

“Or being quiet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Matt.”

“Hey, it’s true. You scared away a lot of
fish.”

The strands of her hair were damp and smelled
like his shampoo. They coiled around his hand, slid through his
fingers. He worked slowly, using the comb and his fingers to pry
her hair from the knot’s grip. The minutes ticked by and the air
seemed to thicken. He stared at the top of her head and wondered if
it was just him who felt this tightening under his skin.

She fiddled with the ends of the robe’s belt,
tugging and scrunching. She seemed to be growing impatient—until
she looked up and her gaze tangled with his.

Wide violet eyes gazed up at him with raw
heat. He felt the blow of that look down to his core. Not impatient
then. Needy. A normal reaction to the stress of tonight, but
considering how she’d brushed him off only a couple of hours ago,
he suddenly felt as if her reaction was wrong somehow.