The Profiler (29 page)

Her eyes widened in surprise as she sat down on the three-seater a few feet away. “You have a daughter? That’s wonderful. I had no idea.”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment. Of course she wouldn’t. He was the only one insensitive enough to use Google to pry into his co-worker’s private life.

“Yeah, Olivia,” he mumbled. “She’s four.”

As if sensing his discomfort, she leaned closer. “Clayton, I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I wasn’t referring to your Google search. I was merely expressing surprise.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m glad you brought it up, anyway. I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for invading your privacy. I honestly had no idea you’d find it so disturbing and I’m mortified that you did.” He held her gaze, hoping she could see how sincere he felt. “Will you please forgive me?”

Her eyes stayed somber for long moments and his heart sank. Christ, she was never going to get over it. He was going to lose a chance with the only woman who’d sparked his interest since his wife had died. And all because of some stupid Google search. He closed his eyes briefly at the enormity of it, dismayed by the wave of disappointment that washed over him.

And then her voice reached him, soft and uncertain.

“It’s okay, Munro. Don’t sweat it. I over-reacted. It was a big deal for me, but then, I have…issues.” She looked away and cleared her throat.

“Jamie died in early July. I’d suffered through another anniversary of his death right before you arrived in Sydney. My parents called from Florence to check that I was okay. I thought I’d managed to cope with the memories reasonably well until the incident with the little boy, Zach Clements. It was too close to home. It brought everything back: the darkness, the despair, the absolute desolation that only losing a child can bring. I should have kept up with my therapy, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to keep talking about it. All it seemed to do was keep the whole terrible time in my head, where I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to shut myself off from it, away from the guilt and the pain and the utter devastation of knowing that there was nothing I could have done to save him and there was nothing I could do to bring him back.”

She lifted her gaze to his. He was stricken at the sadness in their emerald depths.

“You probably did me a favor. You forced me out of hiding.”

“Christ, Ellie. I’m so sorry. I had no right. I, of all people, know everyone grieves in their own way. It wasn’t my place to force you into something you weren’t ready for.”

Her lips tightened. Tears glinted in her eyes. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper.

“But was I ever going to be ready? Maybe I needed to be pushed? Maybe you did me a favor? You forced me out of hiding.”

Without warning, huge tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks, silvery trails in the dim light. Clayton’s chest tightened on a surge of emotion.

Unable to sit idly by and watch her cry, he scooted closer and drew her into his arms. She shuddered and buried her face against his chest. They sat in silence while he held her. Quiet tears soaked into the front of his shirt.

After a few moments, she pulled away and leaned over to tug some tissues out of a box on the coffee table. She swiped at her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I’m feeling a little vulnerable tonight.”

His heart filled with tenderness and he drew her back to his side. She snuggled her head close against his chest and breathed in deeply. They sat in companionable silence. He stroked the velvety-softness of her cheek over and over with the back of his fingers…

His heart rate accelerated. She felt so good against him. So warm. So right.

Images of Lisa swam before his eyes. Momentary guilt weighed him down. He pushed it aside with a surge of irritation. He was with Ellie. Beautiful, warm, giving Ellie. He wanted her. What was wrong with that?

Nothing. Everything. Uncertainty, desire and anger churned up inside him. Determinedly pushing them all aside, he tilted her chin upward with his fingers and leaned in closer. Slowly, slowly, he touched her lips with his.

Soft. Moist. Warm. Comforting. And the faintest taste of coffee. It lasted less than half a minute, but it seemed like a lifetime. She was the first woman he’d kissed since Lisa. He couldn’t believe how good it felt.

He pulled back slowly.

Her eyes, wide and full of wonder, never strayed from his face. Unable to resist, he kissed her again.

This time, as if given permission, the passion that had been smouldering deep inside him burst free. He reached around and cupped the back of her head in his hand to hold it still while his lips devoured hers.

His tongue swept into her mouth and took all she was willing to give and more. Heat exploded through him and centred in his groin. He was rock-hard and on fire.

Her arms twined around his neck and drew him even closer. He heard a moan and wasn’t sure which one of them it came from—and didn’t care.

Releasing her head, his fingers moved of their own accord and trailed down her neck and then lower. Soft and unbound, he filled his hands with her sweater-clad breasts while his lips continued their onslaught.

The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. She smelled nothing like Lisa. She felt nothing like Lisa. She wasn’t Lisa. She was Ellie and she felt so damned right it scared him.

Breathing hard, he pulled back and hugged her close to his chest. He rested his chin on her head and fought to regain control. It was madness. It was insane. It was unavoidable and he knew he had to taste her again.

He lowered his head and swept her tight against him. He kissed her with all the longing that had been building up inside him from the moment he’d spied her across the floor in the squad room. She met his passion without hesitation and he reveled in the heat and softness that was her.

Long moments later, he loosened his arms around her. She pulled away slightly and stared up at him, her eyes full of light and shadow, passion and uncertainty.

Her voice was a husky whisper. “If there’s one thing you do know how to do, Fed, it’s kiss.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling unaccountably shy.

“Surely you’ve heard that on more than one occasion?”

He blushed and couldn’t meet her eyes. Christ, where was his confidence when he needed it? He felt like a tongue-tied schoolboy about to go all the way for the first time.

Her grin slowly faded as she realized just how uncomfortable he was. “Hey, I meant it as a compliment. You are an incredible kisser. Not that I’ve had loads of experience,” she added hurriedly, “but I do know a good kisser when he comes along.”

She offered him another grin. He did a weak imitation of returning it. Leaning forward on the couch, he rested his hands on his thighs and stared straight ahead. A sigh escaped his lips. He spoke quietly into the near darkness.

“I met Lisa my first week of college. By the second week, we were dating.” He shrugged. “I was eighteen.”

Comprehension dawned on her face. “You mean, you’ve never… You haven’t…? There hasn’t…?”

He sighed again and sunk back against the couch. Reaching over, he took her hand and entwined her fingers with his. “No, there hasn’t. Well, not really. There were a couple of times I got to second base in high school, but that didn’t compare to how it was with Lisa. We were adults for one, and we were in love. It made such a difference.”

She frowned and he could have kicked himself. Why the hell was he talking about his wife—even a dead one—with a woman he’d just been making out with? Any idiot knew that wasn’t a good idea.

But what else was he supposed to do? She’d asked him the question. He wasn’t going to lie to her. Besides, she knew he’d been married.

“What was she like?”

He turned to face her and shook his head. “Ellie, we don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to hear about her. She was obviously an important part of your life.” Her hand tightened in his. “Your face softens every time you mention her.”

His eyes closed and he drew in a deep lungful of air. Exhaling it slowly, his gaze sought hers in the dimness. “You’re a remarkable woman, Ellie Cooper.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you. The way you look, the way you sound when you talk about her…” She shook her head. “I hope I find someone who feels as strongly about me one day.”

“You say it as though I’m still in love with her.”

“Aren’t you?”

He pulled his hand out of hers. Guilt, sharp and oppressive, weighed heavily inside him. His memories of Lisa had grown hazy. It had been happening for weeks. Little things. Like how she’d looked when she smiled. And frowned. The smell of her perfume. The sound of her laughter. They had all started to fade.

Panic tightened in his chest. What if one day he couldn’t remember her at all? What if she disappeared from his memory like an old, familiar song he hadn’t heard in quite awhile?

Ellie’s voice came to him in quiet reassurance. “It’s okay, Clayton. It’s okay. It makes me realize how special you are when you’re still in love with your wife who’s been dead for… How many years ago did she die?”

“Three.” He nearly choked on the word and cleared his throat. “She died nearly three years ago.”

Ellie shook her head. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” he replied quietly. Taking a deep breath, he released it on another sigh. With a fierceness that surprised him, he caught and held her gaze. “She was all I’d ever wanted. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with her. And then…and then, she left us.”

“How did she die?”

Pain and guilt warred in his gut. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he opened them again and found Ellie’s wide with compassion.

“She committed suicide.”

Ellie gasped and her mouth went slack with shock. Clayton looked away, unable to bear the thought of seeing judgement in her eyes.

“How?” The question came softly and without inflection. He glanced up, relieved to find her expression filled with nothing but concern.

“She overdosed. Undiagnosed post-natal depression. That’s what the doctors told me afterward. After it was too late.” He stood and paced the small confines of the living room, unable to sit still a second longer.

“I should have seen it, Ellie. I should have realized. She was my
wife,
goddammit. I was meant to protect her, to look out for her. In sickness and in health. That’s what I’d promised. And I failed her. I didn’t see it. Her pain was right before my eyes and I didn’t
see
it.”

Ellie stood, too, shaking her head. “No, Clayton. That’s not fair. I’m sure you weren’t the only person in her life. And she was the one who made the decision. No one else. Don’t do this to yourself.”

He wanted to throw her quiet words off, along with the balm they offered to his battered spirit. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard them. His family, even Lisa’s parents had made similar pleas.

He’d refused to listen, hadn’t wanted to. For nearly three years, he’d embraced the pain and the guilt, had even welcomed it as a way to atone for the loss of his wife. But somehow, with Ellie, it was different. He wanted to believe the words now. He wanted to be free of the guilt that had weighed him down for so long.

He reached out and took Ellie’s hand. Holding it tightly in his, he led her back to the couch and sat. His eyes burned into hers, suddenly wanting her to understand.

“Ever since I met you, I’ve struggled. It used to be so easy to accept my responsibility for Lisa’s death, to accept the blackness of my guilt as good and proper punishment for my failure to see the signs and protect her. I’m a profiler, for God’s sake. I should have noticed.”

He dragged in a breath and continued. “I haven’t slept well since the funeral. Most nights, I wake and remember and then I can’t fall back to sleep. But ever since I met you, things have been different. I’m still waking up in the middle of the night, but Lisa isn’t the woman foremost on my mind. She isn’t the woman I’ve lain awake this past month fantasizing about, wanting to taste all over with my lips. She isn’t the woman I’ve yearned to feel writhing beneath me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

Ellie flushed, but her gaze remained steady on his.

Clayton implored her. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart and funny and persistent and annoying.”

“Don’t forget cantankerous, rude, bitchy and stubborn.”

He smiled. “Thoughtful, kind, honest and beautiful. You’re all I’ve been able to think about since I arrived.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “You’re the first woman since Lisa who’s made me feel alive.” He drew her closer. “It scares the hell out of me, but I can’t do anything to stop it. Dammit, Ellie, I’m falling in love with you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ellie’s mouth fell open in surprise. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. With her mind whirling in confusion, she tried to process his words.

Without warning, he put his arm around her and hauled her closer until she was almost in his lap. She squirmed, but his arm only tightened around her.

“You’re over-thinking this, Ellie. It’s not that complicated. I loved my wife very much, but it’s only since meeting you that I’ve realized the guilt had taken over and that’s what’s been tying me to Lisa, to her memory. And it’s not fair, to her or to me. What we had was wonderful, all I ever dreamed, but she opted out and I have to live with that.”