Mending Fences (29 page)

The deputy nodded, smiled and walked away. Victoria didn’t trust her voice to work. He volunteered to take care of her. Even if he didn’t love her, it was more than anyone had ever done for her. She simply stood and stepped into Curran’s embrace.

* * * *

“What about Sassy?” Victoria asked as she settled her clothing into the drawers in one of the extra bedrooms.

Curran forced his gaze away, trying to quell the need to see those shirts and underthings in the drawer in his own room. She was fragile and exhausted right now. He wouldn’t put that sort of pressure on her. “Jamie took her base cage over to Kelli’s. Rob is more than happy to take care of her for a couple of days.”

She nodded, then gathered a small stack of clothing she’d left atop the chest and sighed, looking longingly through the open door of her private bathroom. “I’d give anything for a hot shower.”

He shook his head. “You can’t get the glue on your head wet. However, I did run a bath for you in the master suite. The tub has jets. I thought it would relax you.”

Her smile infused him with joy. “Thank you.”

He guided her down the hall to his room, showed her into the bathroom, then pressed in the lock on her side of the door. She watched him and said, “You don’t have to lock it, Curran.”

He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. “Oh, but I do. You can’t relax if you don’t feel completely safe.”

A look of confusion deepened the amber of her eyes. “I am safe with you.”

Her words humbled him. “Thank you. Take your time, honey.” He withdrew and closed the door behind him.

Curran sat on the edge of the bed, then picked up his coat from where it lay half over the bedside. He dug into the pocket, withdrew the ring box. He slid the ring out, then tossed the box and the coat across the room, missing the chair he’d aimed for.

He turned the ring, mesmerized by the brilliance of the stones in the soft lamplight. The ring fit over the first knuckle of his pinky, and he left it there, scrubbing his other hand against the side of his face.

Everything had changed tonight. He had changed.

He had to ask her.

* * * *

Victoria stood at the sink and turned her head, carefully cleaning the rest of the blood from her hair, taking care to avoid the cut responsible for the mess. Satisfied that she’d gotten all the gore, she sank into the huge, deep, blue tub, instantly grateful for the gift of a hot soak. She ran the jets for a while to loosen up her knotted back, then turned them off and let the water soothe her until it grew lukewarm. She didn’t realize how far her muscles had weakened until she tried to stand up. It took her three attempts before she felt secure enough to actually step out of the tub.

She dried off with a thick white towel. Wow, it was warm. She’d always wondered about people who afforded such luxuries as warming towel racks. The heat of the cotton against her skin made her reconsider. Perhaps the rack should be reclassified as a necessity.

Normally she slept in the nude, but parading around in front of Curran buck-naked wasn’t a great idea. She pulled on a pair of flannel pants and a button-front pajama shirt that didn’t match. She brushed her teeth, then threw her dirty clothes into the laundry hamper. She jolted to a stop before she closed the lid, realizing what she’d just done. The intimacy of tossing her clothing in with his spread a tingle through her. She couldn’t help it. She felt more at home here than anywhere since her childhood. As if she belonged.

She left the clothing and turned the door handle, popping the lock open. She stepped out into his room and found it empty. The master suite was huge, bigger than most apartments she’d lived in. The hardwood in the hallway stopped at the door, with thick ivory wriggle-your-toes-in-it carpeting covering the bedroom floor. The carved mahogany headboard behind the king-size bed set off the navy, probably down-filled, comforter.

Victoria rubbed her eyes and sighed. Who was she kidding? She liked his world, but she didn’t belong in it. He was the finest man she’d ever met, and he treated her like gold.

She loved him. But it would never last.

He didn’t love her. He’d had ample opportunities to say something, and he hadn’t. What other conclusion could she draw?

“Victoria.” She turned as he entered the room. She’d heard water running earlier, while she soaked. His damp, tousled hair told her he’d showered. A bright white T-shirt hugged his muscular chest, black sweat pants covered the rest of his fine form.

His eyes swept across her from head to toe, heating her skin before his gaze met hers. “Have a good soak?”

“Wonderful.”

He approached her slowly, a whirlwind of emotion in his eyes. “I, uh, I know you’re exhausted, but I have some things to say, and they really can’t wait.”

Ominous sounding words. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to consider what he meant, what he planned to say, before he actually said it. She sat on the edge of the bed, because it was the closest piece of furniture. He paused a moment, staring at the bed. Then he shook his head and sat beside her.

He took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “My timing is awful. But I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, and after tonight, all I can think of is how much time I’ve wasted.”

He cupped her chin and leaned toward her. He kissed her, a tender touch that brought fresh tears to her eyes. He eased back, traced her jaw with his fingertip. “I love you, Victoria. You are the most amazing, real, incredible woman I’ve ever known. You’re worth more to me than everything I’ve spent my life pursuing. I like the man I’ve become with you, and I never want to go back to the man I was without you.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissed her fingers. “Marry me. Please.”

A dream. That explained it. But a glorious one she never wanted to wake from. She took his face in her hands and kissed him to be sure he was real and she was awake. When her voice finally worked, she managed to say, “I love you, Curran. You are the first man I ever loved, and you will be the last.”

Her words visibly choked him up. He blinked and swallowed hard, a half-smile crossing his lips. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes!”

He lifted her left hand, and she watched as, his hands trembling, he slid a delicate, perfect ring onto her third finger. He stared at it for a moment, ran his finger along its edge, then drew her into his arms.

They held each other for a long time, until a yawn forced its way out of her. He loosened his hold on her, leaned back to look at her. Ugh, what a way to ruin a perfect moment. She smiled and shrugged. “Sorry. It isn’t the company.”

He laughed softly. “I know, you’ve had a hell of a day, but I was impatient.”

“You’re forgiven.”

She went to stand, but stopped when he wrapped his fingers around her forearm. A serious look crossed his face, and she waited, her heart beginning to pound.

“Victoria, it’s grown more and more difficult to sleep alone over the time you’ve been in my life. After tonight…I’m not trying to pressure you, but I need to feel you in my arms. I swear, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I just know I won’t sleep at all with you down the hall.”

* * * *

Curran turned back the covers for her and watched her settle herself on the left side of the bed, trying to shake the image lodged in his brain of her naked save the ring. It was a powerful vision to say the least, but tonight was not the night for it. Tonight she needed comfort and cuddling, not some desperate, sex-starved monster attacking her. As much as he wanted to fully make her his, the fact she wore his ring would have to be enough.

He took the right side of the bed. He’d have been happy just knowing she lay near him, but as he pulled the comforter over them, she scooted across the no-man’s land in the center of the bed to lie at his left side. He shifted his arm around her, and she snuggled close, tucking her head under his chin, draping her arm across his chest.

His traitorous body perked up, but he concentrated on the incredible comfort of her warmth along his side. He stroked her hair with his left hand, careful to avoid her wound. His right hand stroked her arm. He took a deep breath to steady his pounding heart, then let it out slowly so it didn’t sound like a disgruntled sigh. She was giving him everything he could ask of her, and meeting her needs took a far higher priority than his own.

Victoria knew she couldn’t possibly fall asleep like this, with his fingertips caressing her arm through her flannel sleeve, his other hand toying with her hair.

He loved her. He wanted to marry her. Tonight he stood beside her, supported her, gave her everything she needed, and asked for nothing in return, except that she marry him. Even that was a gift for her.

And what had she given, except her consent? He’d laid himself on the line for her and she’d offered nothing of herself, not really. She’d said she loved him, but it wasn’t enough. Part of her still held back.

“Curran…how do you feel about a fast wedding?”

He stilled. “My love, you say the word and I’ll have us in Vegas and married before sunrise.”

That willingness to dive in headfirst was what she desperately wanted to hear. And now, she needed to face her fears head on. She needed to commit herself to him, to bind herself to him. To trust him completely, with her entire being. She knew Curran would never back out after putting the ring on her finger. In his mind, that was as solid as saying
I do.
The most definitive way she could seal the deal was with herself.

She trailed her fingers across his chest, a thrill zipping through her at the hitch in his breathing. She continued, tracing down the center of his abdomen to his waistband and back up, across the firm muscles of his stomach. His arm tensed around her, but otherwise he lay motionless, letting her touch him. Irritated at the barrier of cotton between her hand and his skin, she grasped his shirt at his waist and pulled up. His right hand curved around her wrist.

She boosted herself up on her elbow, gazed down into his eyes. The depth of desire in them startled her. Her own craving for him flared hot in her belly. “Please, Curran. I need this. I need to touch you.”

“I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret. Are you sure?”

She nodded and he slid his hand up her arm to her nape, urging her mouth down to his. She kissed him, tasted him, while she finished pulling his shirt up, baring his chest. She splayed her fingers against his heated skin, feeling his heart leap against her touch. She shifted down along his body, then pressed her lips to his chest. He gasped, and her pulse throbbed, reveling in the scent of his freshly scrubbed skin. She planted a trail of kisses along every band of hard muscle on his chest, his abdomen.

The longer she touched him, the more the ache inside her grew. She wanted him, wanted to feel him inside her. Still, the yearning for him grew sweeter as it intensified. She wanted this to last.

She rose over him, throwing the covers back, then straddled his hips. The hardness of his erection sent bright, hot need spiraling to her core. She pulled his shirt higher. He shifted to allow her to lift the cotton over his head, off his arms. He brought his arms down, resting his hands on her hips.

As she adjusted her legs closer to his sides, she slid her hips forward. He groaned and bucked against her once, then stilled himself and closed his eyes, breathing hard, his fingers flexing against her waist.

She didn’t want his hands still, she wanted them on her, caressing her. She leaned down, ran her tongue across his lips then kissed him deeply. She sat up again, began unbuttoning her shirt.

He stared at her fingers as she worked, his gaze dark and hot. She reached the final button and a moment’s uncertainty made her shiver. The intensity in his eyes fueled her determination. She shrugged the flannel from her shoulders.

He swallowed hard, shifting under her again. His hands tensed, grasping her hips, holding her against him.

He was waiting for permission, she realized. He was letting her set the pace, giving her full control.

She knew how much Curran disliked being the passive one, letting others be in charge. Yet, in this most intimate of negotiations, he gave her the lead. Her heart swelled with the love of him, recognizing his love for her. Even if she wanted to stop now, he’d abide by her wishes.

Stopping was the last thing she wanted to do. “Touch me, Curran. Please.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice. He lifted his hands, touched his fingertips to her collarbone, drew them lightly down over her breasts, across her ribs and stomach, leaving her skin alert and tingling. He caressed her, driving the throbbing inside her to a faster tempo.

It was safe to be in control, to be calling the shots, but Victoria recognized she had one hurdle to jump in order to fully give herself to him. She had to let him take charge. The only man she ever submitted to had used his power to hurt her. She had to trust Curran. She’d never be entirely over the past until she gave the control to him.

She lay against him, skin to skin, kissed him thoroughly, then wrapped her arms around his neck. She knew what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. How did she communicate that to him?

He stroked along her spine, pressed his lips to her shoulder, then gently shifted her onto her back. He rose up on his elbow, touched her face. “Do you want this, Victoria?”