Off Kilter (33 page)

Her body was so finely tuned to pleasure, he carried her over once again, and she was still shuddering and twitching as he yanked his shirt off, followed swiftly by his trousers. He reached for the nightstand, but she stopped him.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m okay. Protected. I—like to keep things on schedule,” she said with a dry smile. “There are so few things I can do that with. And, clean bill of health, too. Well, for my body. I can’t vouch for my mental state.”

“Tessa.” He rolled toward her, and moved up so they were even with each other, then pulled her close to him. The shock of her lovely, warm, bare skin sliding over his felt … tremendous, along the scale of rock his world, bloody fantastic. He lost his train of thought. “That feels—you feel so … brilliant,” he said, like a complete dim nob.

“So do you,” she said, sliding her hands along his back.

He thought his brain synapses might just blow their circuits all at once, the friction was so electric and delicious.

She looked into his eyes. “Roan, if you’re more comfortable using something, I don’t want you to feel—”

“I trust you. And you have nothing to worry about from me.” He rolled her gently to her back and moved on top of her. “I’d rather not have a single thing come between us. If you dinnae mind.”

She smiled up at him, and whatever part of his heart he might have still claimed as his own was well and truly lost then. It was all hers, for the keeping.

“I definitely dinnae mind,” she teased. “And I definitely dinnae want to wait.” She lifted up against him, sliding him between her thighs, pressing, pushing him right where he wanted to be. Her smile grew, even as she gasped when he pushed the tip along her slick, tender skin. “If ye dinnae mind.”

Both groaned as he pushed slowly, steadily into her. She gripped him so tightly he thought he’d not last past the first thrust. She lifted her hips, took him in more deeply, then gasped and arched hard against him. They moaned in unison as he withdrew, then again as he thrust back inside her. From there they found their rhythm, naturally, easily. It was incredibly perfect.

He tilted her hips, urged her legs more tightly around his back, as he sunk more fully into her.

She climbed slowly. “Roan—oh, that’s … so”—she bucked wildly against him as she went over the edge—“good,” she ground out as she continued to move and shudder against him.

Hearing his name, and that urgent need, feeling her contract
and pulse around him, shot him straight to the brink. He thrust harder, deeper, and she met him at each peak. He’d thought to savor the rush as it swept through him, draw it out, enjoy each slippery, jerking, shuddering thrust as he came, but instead he was yanked, almost violently over the edge, and literally growled as he came roaring inside her. There was no finesse, no tenderness, nothing about it that was anything other than raw, primal, and downright visceral.

As soon as he could pry his eyes open and see something other than stars twinkling in his peripheral vision, he had every intention of apologizing for being so rough. “Are ye okay?” he managed between pants.

“I’m glorious,” she said, sounding happily, completely sated.

He managed to crack one eye and shift his heavy weight off her narrower frame. “Truly? I didnae hurt ye there at the end? I didn’t mean to lose control like that, take ye like—”

“A fiery dragon?” Her grin was slow, wide, and very, very naughty. “Oh, aye, you can do that anytime. In fact, I might make it my new life’s work to learn all the ways I can slay that dragon of yours.”

She surprised a laugh out of him. “I’m going to regret that metaphor. I can see it already.”

“Oh, I think I can make it something to look forward to,” she said, rolling toward him, curling up along the length of his body—his fully and completely spent body.

So it was with stunned amazement that he felt himself twitch as she slid her hand over his chest and up along the side of his neck. He’d thought it would take days to see even a flicker of life resume, that’s how entirely and thoroughly she’d taken him.

He gathered her closer, and urged her cheek down to his shoulder, letting his eyes drift shut as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “I look forward to … rising to meet the challenge.”

She laughed, and that sound warmed him as much as her earlier moans and gasps had titillated him.

There were so many things left to say, left to know, left to
figure out. But he refused to tarnish even a fraction of that moment. There would be a time for all of that later.

“Supper now?” he murmured against her hair, as he lazily stroked the smooth skin of her back.

“Supper later,” she said, sounding sexily drowsy and replete.

He tugged the duvet up and over them and they snuggled amidst the stuffed feather coverlet. “Supper later it is, then,” he said, and with her cheek pressed against his heart, he held her as they both drifted off.

I
t was the screaming that woke her, had her clawing out from under very heavy mosquito netting, digging, digging, for her gun, her knife, anything to get the weight of the intruder off her. She realized, quite distantly, as she fought valiantly and ferociously, that the screamer was her.

There was shouting. It was her tormentor. She had to fight him off, had to save—wait, her name, someone was shouting her name. It was … Roan. Roan? What was he doing in Bogota?

“Tessa, it’s okay. It’s me. Tessa!”

He pinned her shoulders hard to the bed with his hands, then slung his weight over her, using his legs and feet to keep her from thrashing and hurting either one of them.

“Tessa! You’re okay. I have you. You’re okay.”

Roan had her. It was Roan. He had her. She must be okay then. She stopped struggling, then immediately grabbed his arms. “We have to get out, we have to go! Now—they’re coming!” She was frantic, realizing she needed to save them. He wouldn’t know, wouldn’t understand what it was like here. She had to save him. “No time, Roan. There’s no time. Get up, come on!”

“Tessa,” he said, and she felt him kissing her cheek. Had he lost his mind?

“Run!” she screamed. Didn’t he get it?

“Tessa!”

Something about the sharp demand made her open her eyes. “Roan! We have to—” But then she stopped herself as awareness slowly started to sink in … followed swiftly by utter and complete mortification. “Oh … oh, God. No—” She looked at him, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her throat knotted against a renewal of tears. Tears she would not shed. She’d done enough of that. “Oh, no.”

He rolled off her, but pulled her with him, tried to tuck her against him. She instinctively shoved, needing space, air … time. To think, to get under control. Then get away. She couldn’t be with him. She’d thought she could. But she couldn’t. She cared. Too much. And no matter what he thought, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—put him through it.

“Come here,” he said, gently at first, but then with a bit more urgency. When she tugged, he didn’t let her go, wasn’t the gentleman she’d known him to be to that point. “Just … come here. For a moment. Take stock, gather yourself.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Try it this way,” he said. “And see how that works out.”

She grudgingly let him pull her down to his side. “Don’t you dare tell me this is okay. This is far, far from okay. I’m not okay, and I hate this. Hate acting crazy in front of you. And nothing you say is going to change that. I’m just telling you right now so you won’t take it personally. But please, don’t even try.”

“Fine, no words of wisdom,” he said. “So, just shut up then and let me hold you, okay? I want to hold you. Because it makes me feel better. Can you do that for me? After all, you tried to slug me half to death and you’ve got a pretty wicked left hook. I’m just tellin’ ye.”

She was so stunned by the words he was saying, she simply gaped at him.

And he had the nerve—the nerve—to smile. “Good. I thought that would get your attention.” He pulled her again, more gently,
so they were aligned, and held her with both arms wrapped around her. “I know you’re feeling like an idiot at the moment, but the only idiotic thing you can do would be to shut yourself off. From this. From me. I’m no’ some fragile flower, ye know.”

She was silent for a long moment. “I thought you weren’t going to armchair analyze me. Tough love, that’s what you were dishing out just now and that feels just about right.”

He tipped her head back, with just enough force so that their gazes met … and clashed. “I canno’ be that tough with ye. But I can give ye the love part. Tessa … it is what it is. We’ll survive it. Maybe I can help. When ye finally knew it was me, ye calmed right down.” He smiled and stroked her face. “Ye tried to save me, in fact.”

She glared at him. “How on earth can you think this is even remotely amusing?”

“I’m no’ amused. But I am quite happy.”

“Because I had a terrifying nightmare? They feel quite real to me when I’m having them, in case you were unaware.”

He gentled his touch and his smile and she wanted to smack at both, even as she realized she was being awful because that would be the thing to push him away the fastest. And get her back to ground zero—which meant … alone.

That’s not really what she wanted. Not at all.

“Maybe happy was the wrong word. I hate, with more passion than ye know, that you suffer. But you were in the midst of a terror, and rather than fight me, you tried to save me. Your instinct was to defend yourself, then protect me.” He shook his head when she’d have spouted off again. “I’m merely pointing out that it made a difference. My being here. So, keep me here. And maybe, at some point, I’ll be the one doing the protecting. In your dreams. And out.”

She stared at him, as if he was an alien.

“We made it through,” he said. “And we will again.”

“Sometimes it’s every night. I never know, Roan.”

“We made it through,” he repeated, “and we will again. And
again. I’m no’ a quitter. Not on you, not on your terrors. Or havenae ye been listening to me?”

“Why would you willingly sign on for that?”

He took her face in his hands then, gently but firmly, and she saw anger in his eyes for only the second time ever. She’d been idiotic the last time, too, but apparently she hadn’t learned anything.

“I’m a man who loves you. You, Tessa. All the parts that are hard, aye, but all the wonderful parts that are good, too.”

Her heart tilted right on the edge, and she was terrified to let it fall. Wouldn’t it simply shatter on impact? She couldn’t be lucky enough to have this much goodness. Could she? “I don’t feel all that good or wonderful. And I’m lashing out at the one good and wonderful thing I have.”

“Answer me one thing.”

She looked straight into his eyes, and promised herself she’d respond honestly, no matter what he asked. She owed him that much. Even if the answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Okay.”

“Your heart”—he paused, and the earnestness, the openness, so plain on his face, shook the anger right out of her—“do I have even a part of it yet?”

Her defenses crumpled. Fully. Oh the things he said. “Oh … Roan.” Her throat was tight and tears rushed to the corners of her eyes. Since she’d let them out, apparently they weren’t going back into full seclusion ever again. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. It meant she was letting herself feel. That didn’t have to be such a terrifying thing. “I wasn’t really sure I had one, you know.”

“You couldn’t do what ye do without one. You know that now. It’s why your work hurts so much, and tortures you so.” He stroked her cheek, her hair, her forehead, all the while staring deeply into her eyes, searching. “I know your night terrors won’t stop all at once. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start letting your heart feel for all the good reasons, the healthy, happy reasons. Even if it’s no’ me, you need to let—”

“It’s you,” she said. “It’s yours. Whatever part is under my control, anyway. You’re …” She couldn’t finish. When she saw his eyes glass over, she thought she would never find words again. But they came, in a torrent. “I could hurt you, and I won’t mean to. I don’t react well to … any of this. My instincts are so strong to pull away and I … the very last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. You need to be with someone who can love you, the way you so deserve to be loved. I—you’re everything any woman would want. You’re everything I could want.”

“Then take me,” he said, his voice a choked whisper.

“Why me?” she pleaded, needing to understand. “You just up and decide it’s me. Couldn’t you just up and decide it’s not? When I get to be too much, make it too hard.”

“You fulfill me. You challenge me. You make me laugh. You engage me on every single level I have, and many more I didn’t even know existed. Your heart, your dedication, your passion. Your need to shed light on the hard parts of the world, while doing your damnedest to ignore that they’re killing you. Your very difference from everyone I’ve ever known is precisely what compels me. I didn’t know that, couldn’t have known that, until I met you. But I have now. And you’re it for me. You’re it. Your past, everything that has shaped you, intrigues and fascinates the hell out of me. The pain, the darkness scare me, and make me angry. I don’t want that for you, but I can’t make it just go away. I can’t wave a wand and fix it. But you’re a million other things besides the dark parts. I won’t be perfect in handling all of it, but as long as we both understand that and are willing to work at it … don’t we get to at least try?”

“And if we fail?”

“We know we reached. We know we let ourselves want. We took the risk.”

“Maybe I can’t take any more of those. Maybe I need safe. And secure.”

“Do you want to be alone? Truly, Tessa? Because if you want anything, or anyone, in your life, then it’s a risk you’re going to have to take.”

She dipped her chin, feeling suddenly weary. Down to her soul weary. She didn’t want it to be so hard, not for him, and not for herself. She realized she was the large part, the only part, of why it was so challenging. “I’m trying to do the right thing, find the right path,” she said, continuing the thought out loud. “I will take risks again. I don’t know that I was ready to take them quite yet. I’m just starting to figure out who I am, what part of me I can get a grip on and take forward from here. I don’t know that it’s fair to me, but even more so, to you, to think I can handle a new career and a relationship, too. It feels inordinately selfish to take the risk, to jump right now. I need time. I wanted time.”