Sweet Seduction Shield (32 page)

He turned his
face and kissed me softly in amongst my hair. The water still
rained down around us, the steam rose in soft puffs of misted air.
It was intimate, but by no means sexual. A heavy weight hung in the
shower stall, heavier than the water drenched atmosphere should
have been.

"I got to know
her," he whispered in a rough edged voice. "We became friends of
sorts. I knew why she'd given me up, I accepted it. She'd had no
choice. Her partner at the time had been powerful, physically and
socially. A well known player in the local Auckland political
scene. He denied parenting me, made her give me up for adoption,
and like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice,
nowhere else to turn. She believed he was all there was and she
took him however she could get him."

A shattered breath of air went in and when he exhaled his
entire body shook. My throat closed over with emotion, my eyes
blurred with tears. This was
killing
him. Reliving it. I wanted him to stop, yet I knew he wouldn't
now. Once Ryan made his mind up, it was set in stone. No one could
stop him.

But those words. Spoken with a type of weary knowledge.
Like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice,
nowhere else to turn.
This was why he
protected people. And at a guess, I would say most of those he
protected were women and children, escaping an environment that was
not good.

Is this what
he meant by understanding? He understood why I was hiding, why I
was running, even though my dangerous environment didn't include a
partner or husband as such, but those who were connected to me
through Rick.

"I tried to
get her to leave," he went on. "He didn't live with her, just
visited her when it suited him. When his other lovers weren't in
favour, he sought my mother out."

Visited her.
Where? I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly where.

"He found out
about me. Found out who I was and why I was coming around. She
defended our friendship. She shouldn't have. She should have walked
away, but it was too late for her by then. Even when she saw the
writing on the wall, she still didn't have it in her to walk away.
She said she loved him and that he loved her, despite how he
behaved, she said he needed her. I didn't understand then. I do
now."

He stroked
down my back, a soft, haunting caress. His cheek nuzzled into my
hair.

"It takes
courage," he murmured. "More than most have left. Just surviving is
all they can do, anything else would break them. I wasn't in a
place to give her what she needed then. I was still young. Not even
twenty. I didn't know I could have helped. I've spent the rest of
my life making sure I don't make that same mistake again. I have
dedicated my professional career to providing courage when they
have none left. Giving them that someone to lean on when they can
barely stand upright anymore." He sucked in a deep, tortured breath
of air and added, in a voice that sounded almost childlike, "But I
was too late for my mother."

"Ryan," I
said, my voice cracking.

He pulled me
back from his warm body and looked down into my eyes, let me see
the agony he felt, the pain that still tormented him. Let me see
the promise that he'd given me that first day in my office;
compassion, understanding, and the chance to lean on another person
in order to survive. I'd seen it then, maybe not completely
recognised it, but he'd made the offer. And he'd obviously made the
same promise of protection to others before me too. Abi? She'd said
she hadn't stopped running until she met Ben and Pierce.

This is what
he does. A knight in shining armour, disguised by the façade of a
modern day cop. Ryan Pierce was a hero. My God, he was such a good
man. I felt overwhelmed to have met him, to have gotten this close
to someone this inherently decent. My heart swelled with pride, and
then filled with sadness, because his story wasn't at an end.

"He was
unstable," he whispered, eyes holding mine as much for an anchor,
as to ensure I comprehended what he next said. "Volatile, easily
enraged. I should have known what he was capable of. I have never
underestimated another since."

His eyes
closed slowly, his head tipped back and he inhaled through his
nose; once, twice, three times. Then intense brown was staring back
at me, bringing the world down to just me and him.

"He shot her
three times in the chest." Oh, fuck. "Twice in the head." No!
Please no.

My body
started shaking; his face said it all. The trembles made it hard to
hold on to him, but Ryan's grip was firm, tender and gentle, but
ensuring I went nowhere. Trapping me in his embrace as his words
imprisoned me in my own past.

The acrid stench of gun residue, the too vibrant blast of
light, the deafening roar of a pistol being fired. Screams. Blood.
The solid sensation of multiple
somethings
hitting me, then looking down at my chest and
realising it was parts of Rick's brain and skull. My knees gave out
and Ryan went with me to the floor of the shower, cradling me,
rocking me as tears streamed down both our cheeks.

"I understand,
Marie," he whispered, the sound of a thousand bees inside my head
competing with his jagged voice. "Because I watched someone kill a
loved one in front of me. Just like you."

Just like
me.

I forced
myself to look up at his face, to search his eyes and see the
truth.

I'd witnessed
my husband's murder. He'd witnessed his birth mother's murder.

And where I
had run and hid, Ryan Pierce had become a cop, in order to help
others avoid the same evil, vile, world shattering experience we'd
both had.

"Did you get
him?" I asked, the only thought left inside my numbed head.

"It took five
years to gather enough evidence to convict him; he had good
lawyers, the best advisers on his staff. And I was just a rookie
cop. By the time he was put away for life, I was a Senior
Constable. Not long after I made Detective. And not long after that
I bought this house. Placed it in a trust, rent it out and what it
earns goes to Women's Refuge. It's..." He paused, searching for the
right words, I think. "It's my only link to her."

Wow. That was
a hell of a lot to take in.

We were still
sitting in the bottom of the shower stall, the water now cooler,
but ceaselessly pounding down around our bodies. Ryan held me on
his lap, arms loosely circling my waist, hand softly caressing my
thigh.

Neither of us
said a word for a while, just let that revelation sink in. My
finger absently began to draw on his arm, unable to deny myself the
touch. I realised, I'd recovered from my memories quicker than I
had in the past. Not quite so trapped by them. They'd come, they'd
rolled over me, hurting as they always did, but then they'd rolled
on. And what had been left was Ryan.

Still with me.
Still holding me up. Even though he'd just gone to hell and back
too.

"You don't
come here often, do you?" I asked, eventually.

"No," he
whispered, reaching up and turning the taps off. Silence filled the
space, sounding more deafening than the shower water had been only
moments before. "I keep an eye on the bookings, the revenue. Make
sure the Refuge is getting a fair cut."

He glanced
around the small space we were in, as though only realising now we
were on the floor. His face tipped down to look at me, intense
brown capturing my heart.

"For the first
time in over a decade I don't hate it," he announced.

"The
house?"

His head shook
from side to side, the water spilling off in tiny airborne droplets
from the tips of his hair.

"What
happened. What it made me become," he explained.

I reached up
and brushed a longer strand of hair off his forehead, then because
I couldn't help it, ran my fingers through his beard.

"Why not?"

"Because it
led me to you, Tiger. And there's no one else I'd rather be with.
No one else I'd want to walk this path with. No one else who fills
the cold emptiness inside, replacing it with heat and sunshine and
a bright future." His hand shook as he tucked a strand of my hair
behind my ear. "I've fallen head over heels for you, Marie. For the
first time in my life, I've found my other half. That part of me
that went missing the night I watched her die. And if I spend the
rest of my life trying to give that back to you, I will. Because
you deserve happiness, you deserve safety, you deserve a good
life."

"So do
you."

"Oh, babe.
I've found it. Why else do you think I haven't let you go?"

I shook my
head as a soft smile graced my lips. Ryan Pierce had walked into my
life and turned it upside down. It might have gone that way without
him, I'm guessing Roan McLaren would have looked for me eventually
with or without the attention of a cop. But from the moment Ryan
appeared, my life changed.

I've had to
embrace my fears. Face up to my past wrongdoings. Finally let go of
my dead husband and start to live. Take a giant risk, and do what's
right. Lower my shield of confidence and ice, and let a little
warmth seep in. Become human again. And through it all, Ryan has
been there.

Attraction
does not equal love. What does? A shared understanding? A
similarity in histories? A common goal?

Or is it
sometimes indescribable. Something that sneaks up on you out of the
blue at the most ridiculously inconvenient time.

Whatever it
is, I have found it. I know this, from deep, deep down inside.
Where Ryan has started a fire, ignited a spark, and begun to thaw
me out.

And for
him?

I searched his
face again, looking deep into his eyes. I could have asked him. But
then I didn't really need to, he'd already said all he needed to
say.

Because there's no one else
I'd
rather be with. No one else
I'd
want to walk this path with. No one else who fills the cold
emptiness inside
me
, replacing it
with heat and sunshine and a bright future.

"Yes," I said,
making him raise his eyebrows in slight confusion. Having obviously
not kept up with my tumbling train of thoughts. "I understand," I
added.

"You do, do
you?" he said with a return of his usual smirk.

Yeah, I did.
Ryan understood what I was going through, because he'd been through
it too.

And I
understood what he needed in order to survive, to stay alive with
those memories, to not drown in an ice filled Arctic Sea.

And I was
determined to spend the rest of my life ensuring he got it.
Ensuring he got exactly what he needed, just like he was giving
me.

Ryan wore
those skin-tight stretchy material boxer shorts, the ones that show
off every curve and bulge in enticing detail. I've always held a
secret favouritism for those. Loose satin or silk boxers might look
sexy, but give me detail any day. You don't get creases in
form-fitting elasticised t-shirt material trunks.

Yeah, I liked
trunks on a man.

He was walking
back into the bedroom, after going to the kitchen to grab us a
drink, in nothing but his navy trunks. Two glasses of sparkling
water in his hands and a smirk gracing his lips. I may have been
staring at his package.

Well, it was
on skin-tight enticing display.

He leaned over
and handed me one of the glasses and then slipped into bed beside
me, taking a sip from his own. I just watched him, my glass halfway
to my lips, my eyes unable to look away. He'd recovered well from
our shower conversation, pulling that masculine nonchalance back on
like an old worn shirt. I knew he still suffered being here; how
could he not? But a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, I
think. Sharing that part of his history with me, uncovering another
reason why we fit together so well.

But rather
than hash over what had already been done to death enough for one
night, I asked, "What's our plan? How long are we staying
here?"

He let a slow,
purposeful breath out.

"I want to
read more of the ledger," he admitted. "Make sure we know what
exactly we're handing over."

I took a sip
of my water to hide the sudden tremble in my fingers. It had been a
few years since I last read that blasted book, but I remember it
all in crystal clear detail. Every single page. I didn't need a
refresher course in Roan McLaren Evilness 101.

"OK," I
managed to say.

His hand
snaked out and grasped mine from in my lap, his fingers squeezing
reassuringly.

"I know this
is hard, Marie. But we need to be prepared. And the only way I can
assure that, is by making myself familiar with that book."

I nodded. Took
another sip of water. Stared at the bedspread across my legs.

Ryan
sighed.

"This will
pass, you know," he said softly.

I turned my
head to look at him. He was staring off in the distance, way past
the far bedroom wall.

Neither of us
were having fun being here, were we?

I squeezed his
hand back. His head swung to the side, bringing intense brown eyes
to my face. He smiled. It brightened the whole damn room, that one
simple smile.

"It will
pass," I semi-repeated his words back to him.

"You probably
think I'm crazy keeping this place. But he took everything else of
hers. By the time I made it back here, there was nothing personal
left. I have no idea what he did with her things, it was as if he
burned any trace of her from his life."

"She didn't
die here?"

He shook his
head. I let a small breath of air out. Thank God for that.