Scales: Of Justice (Broken But ... Mending Book 3) (20 page)

She snickered and relaxed down beside him.

He was so damn grateful for this moment, he just wanted to squeeze her harder. She’d been…well, he was speechless. In trying to make it good for her, trying to make it special, and he’d been so surprised at the depth of his own need, his own response, hell, it had ended up…perfect.

“Thank you.” That gentle voice floated up from within his arms. He had to question that he’d really heard them. He twisted slightly so that he could see her face and the look on her eyes.

“For what?” he murmured. Now what was she worrying about inside that pretty head of hers?

“For making it good for me.”

Leaning over her, Weaver stared down at her in astonishment. “My pleasure,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “This isn’t a one-person activity. Both should be just as involved.”

She gave a tiny shrug, but the matching smile on her lips caught his eye. “That might be true, but we also know it’s not always that way. I’m not sure I could have had that same experience with another man.”

He pulled back slightly. “Hell, I don’t want to think of you with another man,” he said, “But I can’t allow you to think that. There are many men in the world, and many are very experienced and good lovers,” he admitted. “With way more experience than I—”

“Experience has nothing to do with it,” she whispered. “It has to do with caring. With wanting me to be happy. To find pleasure. You helped me reach through a very difficult thing. The first time for any woman can be traumatizing. In my case, it was a mix of issues. Thank you for being you. I managed to trust you enough to do this and…” That beautiful smile of hers deepened. “And you gave me so much more than I expected.”

Her words were lovely, the tone perfect. The sincerity…well, he’d never been thanked for doing something he’d wanted to do so badly. But he remembered that there’d been no pain. No hymen to break. He wondered about mentioning it then decided it wasn’t the time. Later, when she was more comfortable, then maybe she’d share. Right now he was just so damn glad to be where he was. He wanted her to come back to this point in time and remember it with joy, not heartache.

She looked so lovely in his arms, such a perfect fit, his heart swelled. He gave her a tiny grin. “Yeah? Well in that case, let’s see what we can do for round two.”

And he lowered his head, gratified to find her lips already reaching up for him.

This woman was all about giving.

He’d never met anyone quite like her.

Then he couldn’t think as her hand slid down his back to his buttocks and squeezed. Her toes slowly climbed his calves, and he realized she hadn’t just enjoyed the first time around. She had learned. As she slid her hand between them to find him, his eyes crossed.

“Christ,” he whispered as her fingers closed around him, her body sliding lower and lower.

She’d learned a hell of a lot.

T
he next morning
Paris woke slowly, confused by the aches and pains mixed with the delicious sensations throughout her body. She lay quiet for a long moment until the memories of last night filtered into place. Weaver. She smirked. A beautiful name. He’d woven a beautiful experience together for her. A night to never forget. A memory to cherish forever.

Hoping they had many more to come, she smiled at the thought of them as a pair.

She rolled over to find his side of the bed empty, the bedding thrown back as if in a hurry. She sat up, pushing her tousled hair back and looking around. She caught sight of her reflection in the massive television screen. Even in there, she looked well loved.

For the first time, she realized that’s exactly what she was. Loved.

She hopped out of bed to look for a note or something to explain where Weaver had gone. Nothing. Hating the building worry that he’d walked away, she stepped into a hot shower and soaped herself all over. She’d have loved to have Weaver in there with her right now. Maybe later tonight. It was her last night here.

That reminder slowed her strokes as she used the washcloth on her skin. Her face. She had some decisions to make.

They weren’t something she could make so easily.

But time was running out.

Back in her room, she realized there was still no sign of Weaver. It was almost time for the seminar. She’d forgotten to check the time before going into the shower and now she was late.

She quickly dressed, then raced down to the restaurant, grabbed two coffees, and hurried toward the conference room. There was a group of law enforcement off to one side. She skirted around them, keeping her head down and going around the centerpiece in the lobby. When she figured it was safe, she went to turn back and heard a voice that made her smile. Weaver.

Glancing in his direction, she almost dropped her coffee. He was speaking with Delaney. She froze, trying to assimilate what she was seeing. And couldn’t find any reason that made her feel good. She turned and ran into the seminar room. Shit. Standing in the middle of the room she didn’t know what to do. With stricken eyes, she searched the place she normally sat to find two coffees sitting there, waiting. She proceeded slowly, her heart desperate for an explanation but her mind coming up blank.

Weaver knew how devastating that man’s presence was to her.

Was he trying to do something for her? Against her? A small shudder went down her long frame. She sat down before her legs gave out, but…

“Hey, are you all right? You look like you’ve had a horrible shock,” a man sitting in front of her asked.

She tried for a smile. “I did actually. But I’m okay.”

Busying herself with trying to organize all the cups on the table, she tried to reorganize the thoughts in her mind.

All she could see was the word
betrayal
flashing in neon colors in her mind.

Again.

*

Weaver, angry and
disturbed, slipped into class. He saw Paris already in her seat, and his smile bloomed fully when he saw the double set of cups on the table. He loved that about her. She rarely thought about herself and was always looking about to help others. He imagined nursing to be one of the best professions for her.

“Hey,” he murmured to her bent head as he sat down.

He’d expected a wide grin, even a shy blush.

But she kept her head down and said, “Hey back.”

He stared at her bent head in dismay. Damn. He hadn’t wanted to leave her in bed this morning. He’d planned to wake her up in a special way, but he’d gotten a call from Jenna. Against his better judgment, he’d left the bedroom. And left her.

Alone.

He tried to see her face, but she had her head down enough that her hair fell to cover her features. Reaching across, he squeezed her shoulders and tried to make contact. She stiffened but didn’t look at him.

Shit. He eased his hand back and turned to snag up one of the coffees. Hating that he felt like he was in the wrong, he took a drink and tried to pay attention. Jenna was setting up for a special set of exercises. The dynamic way she held the audience was inspiring. The way they all paid attention, as if she had the answers to life in the palm of her hand. Maybe she did.

It would be nice if she could share some of that smoothness. Especially with Paris. But circumstances kept him separated from her all morning and although he tried to catch a glimpse of her, she never looked his way. Was she regretting their night together?

With his heart sinking, he wondered how badly he’d screwed up. Then he got mad because if leaving her this morning was a deal breaker, then she should have let him know ahead of time.

Then again, she’d never been in this situation. She might not have any idea how etiquette worked.

Or maybe she was regretting last night.

Wouldn’t that be his luck, the best night in his life and she wanted nothing more to do with him? Damn it. If that happened, life
was
a bitch.

Just then he was forced to put his focus elsewhere as his group ended up being the first to take on Jenna’s exercises and for the next few hours, he didn’t have time to think about last night or Paris’s odd behavior. In fact, there wasn’t much time to do anything. When they finally did break for lunch, he turned to find her and instead realized she was leaving with her group. Uncertainly, he watched her leave the hotel with them, willing her to look back and check on him.

She kept on walking.

“Come on, Weaver. You’re coming for lunch with us. There’s a lovely Japanese restaurant around the corner.”

Japanese food was the last thing he wanted, but they wouldn’t accept his excuses. And maybe he was better off not alone. Confused and angry now, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he let himself travel further down that path.

What the hell had he done?

I
t was hard
to reconcile the Weaver she’d known intimately last night with the man listening to Constable Delaney this morning. Her euphoria over the wonderful loving she’d received had turned to dust in her mouth. She didn’t have a clue what to say to him now. She wished it was Friday and the workshop was over so she could leave. But it wasn’t. She had one more night. This morning she’d have done anything to have that last night with him.

Now she couldn’t get away fast enough. Although sitting at a restaurant with a group that didn’t include him was the best she could do at the moment.

At the same time, a part of her said that wasn’t fair. Until she talked to him, she couldn’t know for sure that he’d betrayed her.

Since she’d trusted him last night, she wanted to trust him today.

If she hadn’t seen the two men talking, then her day would be so different. Now she could barely look at him and when she did, it was to assess him. Study him. To look for that strip of character that said her trust wasn’t misplaced.

Of course, she was well on her way to loving this man. To caring for him in a way she’d never cared for anyone before. And it terrified her and confused her, because it was all so new.

And if she was wrong in her interpretation of what she’d seen – then he had every right to be seriously angry with her. Tired of the mental ramble in her head, she rubbed her sore temple, wishing she could escape to her room. But it wasn’t to be. She had said she’d come for lunch and looking around the Japanese restaurant, she realized the change would be good for her. She loved group lunches at work. They were fun and interactive. Not personal.

Right now, that’s just what she needed.

The door blew open, letting another group into the restaurant. And damn if it wasn’t Weaver’s group. With a sense of inevitability, she watched Weaver walk in. He stood there, tall, cool, composed – personally she preferred the man who’d come apart in her arms – but there was no doubt this man had a presence. Her mind flashed to the previous night, their bodies in sync with one another.

Then his gaze caught hers. Locked and held hers captive. He strode toward her.

Frowning at him, she debated fleeing.

She hated public arguments. He’d better not start anything right now.

Her mouth opened to say something first, only he reached her, scooped her up, and sealed the words bubbling out of her mouth with a hot, rousing kiss.