Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (22 page)

“Not true. One of us could have stayed at Phil’s. What do either of us care what he thinks about our dysfunctional relationship?”

Because
she
cared. She liked Phil and didn’t want to look bad. She also didn’t want him knowing their personal business. “For tonight, we will pretend we’ve never been married and that we’ve never had sex. Hopefully the room has two beds, or at least a couch and a bed.”

“And if it doesn’t? Are you going to draw a line down the middle of the bed and choose a side?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“You know I like to spread out when I sleep,” he said, pulling the car into the parking lot of a CVS. After he parked and killed the ignition, he grabbed the umbrella from the floor at back. “Hang tight and I’ll come around and get you.”

Wanting, yet not wanting him to hold her close as they walked together under the umbrella, she whipped open the door and ran for the store’s entrance. When Dante met her inside, he said, “I guess you really
can’t
handle being around me.”

“It’s just a little rain.”

“A little rain,” he repeated. “You’re soaked, and those are the only clothes you currently have in Lamoni.”

True. Damn it. Then she spotted a small clothes rack in the center of the aisle. On it were t-shirts, sweatshirts, shorts and sweatpants—all displaying the Graceland College blue and yellow colors, along with the school’s Yellowjacket mascot. She found a t-shirt in her size, then figuring the hotel room might be on the cool side, she decided to go with a pair of sweatpants. “Aren’t you going to buy something to change into?” she asked when he walked away from the rack empty handed.

“Nope. I’m good.”

Whatever. She went her own way, filling her small basket with the toiletries she’d need for tonight and tomorrow morning. When she was finished, she met Dante at the checkout and noticed he hadn’t bought a thing. “Don’t you at least need a toothbrush?”

“I told you, I’m good.”

“No, you’re gross. How can you not want to brush your teeth?”

“Now I’m gross? You’re starting to give me a complex. But since you’re so concerned, let me explain. I’m good because
I
thought ahead and packed a bag just in case we needed to stay longer than expected.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh is right. I guess you should have taken my advice last night.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “See what happens when you have your mind on having hotel sex with me?” he whispered, his hot breath sending goose bumps along her skin. “You lose all sense of practicality.”

When he stepped away, she touched his arm and stood on her tiptoes. “Who said you were the one I was thinking about?” she murmured against his ear.

Giving him what she hoped was a condescending smile, she moved next in line for the cash register. Of course she’d been thinking about him, but she wouldn’t dare tell him. As it was, she didn’t know if she could behave herself. Just before he’d left last night, he’d promised to seduce her. Once she was alone in her apartment, instead of continuing to search the missing children database, she’d done nothing but imagine all of the different ways he
could
seduce her, each one ending with them naked, sweaty and satisfied. If she didn’t behave herself, it would only make working this investigation with Dante that much harder. And she didn’t want that.

Liar
.

She set her basket on the counter and waited for the cashier to ring up the items. Sex wouldn’t complicate the investigation. It would complicate their impending divorce. Touching him, kissing him, making love to him would only make it more difficult to walk away from their marriage. Although she didn’t want a divorce, she also didn’t want to keep Dante in limbo any longer. They both needed to move on with their lives. While she had no desire to remarry and start a relationship from scratch, he might. Even if he denied having those thoughts now, once their divorce was settled, he could change his mind and find someone new.

For whatever reason, Dante’s trainee, Lola, popped into her head and she fisted her hands. The urge to claw the pretty, young woman’s eyes out came at her with a surprise punch in the stomach. Dante denied an interest in Lola, and maybe he had meant what he’d said—for now. Once free of her and their marriage, why wouldn’t a sexy, good-looking guy like Dante want a sexy, exotically beautiful woman like
Lola
. Hell, even her name screamed, “Come fuck me.”

She pushed the image of Dante and Lola out of her head, whipped open her purse and handed the cashier her debit card. The vindictive, sex-starved side of her wanted to cave and give Dante what they both craved. She wanted to erase any thoughts of another woman from his mind and leave him wanting only her. But as the idea filtered through her brain and went straight to her core, making her greedy for his touch, her conscience pushed forward. She loved Dante. She wanted him happy. Screwing with his head and heart, misleading him into thinking their marriage was salvageable was wrong—on so many levels. By nature, she wasn’t a selfish or jealous person, but Dante held her heart. Whether he wanted to or not, she’d given it to him the day they’d met in his dad’s used car dealership parking lot. Standing in between a Honda Accord and a Chevy Beretta, she’d looked into his dark eyes and seen her soul mate. The one person who would forever be her one and only true love.

As the cashier handed over her receipt, she caught her reflection in the rounded security mirror above the cigarette and condom display behind and above the cash register. The lines around her mouth deepened, along with the wrinkle between her eyebrows as her frown grew into a scowl. God, she looked damned ugly and bitter. On top of looking like a middle-aged woman in desperate need of Botox, she was also a bitch. An ugly, bitter bitch who no longer had her baby or her husband.

“Ready?” Dante asked.

“Sure.”

No
. They were about to spend the night together for the first time in over four years. The situation terrified and excited her. She’d love to have him inside her again, but what if they had sex and he rejected her afterward? What if he glimpsed the ugliness she carried in her heart and soul, and decided her extra baggage wasn’t worth his effort? That her misery couldn’t be erased, that happiness had become an illusion of a past neither of them could recreate. He could hate her in the end and she didn’t want her sole connection to her daughter, the man she’d loved for nearly half of her life to ever hate her.

He stopped her before they walked out into the rain. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Dante turned her to face him. “Look, I was just giving you a hard time about the hotel situation.” A small lie. He planned to take advantage of it and come up with a way to coax his wife out of her clothes. “I know where you stand and I respect it.” He did respect her, but he wanted her back in his life for the long haul.

When she didn’t respond, he tilted her chin. “Okay?”

She nodded and rushed outside into the pouring rain. He quickly used the car’s key remote to unlock the doors and, not bothering with the umbrella, ran to the Camaro.

The insecurity in her eyes had his chest constricting with his own uncertainties. Maybe she really
didn’t
want to have sex with him, but was worried about hurting his feelings. He’d made it crystal clear he still wanted her, yet she’d made no move and had given him no signs of reciprocation. Although…he swore he saw deep-seated desire banked in her eyes not only last night before he’d left her apartment, but also Thursday night when she’d come to their house.

He pulled the car out of the parking lot and into the street. He didn’t know, and his head hurt from thinking about it. He loved his wife, yet they couldn’t have a conversation without also having some sort of dispute. She never used to be confrontational and defensive, and neither had he. Yet they both continuously pushed each other’s buttons. During the drive to CVS, he’d told himself to ease off, to stop with the blatant sexual innuendos. He hadn’t been able to help himself though. The pretty blush that had stained her cheeks had been sexy as hell. He would have loved to know exactly what she’d been thinking about when she’d been blushing. Him? Them? All of the things they could do for each other?

If she had been thinking of him in that capacity, then maybe he was wrong and she did want him after all. He had no idea, but would attempt to find out tonight. At this point, he was soaked and would love a hot shower. He’d love to have Jessica join him, but he knew now wasn’t the time to push his luck.

When he reached the hotel parking lot, a splinter of lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder rumbling in the distance. She glanced at him and raised a brow. “Rather ominous, wouldn’t you say?”

“Since when did you become superstitious?”

“Since a storm stranded me in a hotel room with my ex-husband.”

He grasped her by her forearm and pulled her close. “Don’t call me that anymore until it’s official,” he said, not bothering to keep his temper in check. “I don’t like it.”

Her eyes filled with apology, and he regretted his ridiculous outburst when she looked as if she might cry. But he didn’t like the ex-whatever bullshit. They weren’t exes. They also didn’t act like husband and wife, either. Until they had a piece of paper signifying the end of their marriage, she would remain his wife.

When she nodded, he loosened his grip and reached for the car door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— Wait here. I’ll check us in to our room.” He didn’t bother running through the rain and, instead, let it soak him. He suddenly felt…dirty, and needed the rain to cleanse him. He’d made it clear to Jessica that he wanted her in his bed. He’d welcomed the opportunity to force her to spend a night with him with no means of leaving. What kind of man did that make him? What had she called him Thursday? A creeper? Whatever that exactly was, he didn’t know. But maybe he was a creepy, dirty old man who would put the woman he loved in an uncomfortable situation so that he could take what he wanted. And
that
made him feel dirty, and wrong.

He shouldn’t have to cheat, connive or beg to be with his wife. She should come to him a willing and wanting partner. By the time he reached the hotel entrance, the rain had completely soaked through his clothes. His shoes squished as he walked. Hell, even his damned underwear was wet.

After a quick exchange with the hotel’s owner, he learned that although the band had been cancelled due to the storm, the kitchen and bar would remain open until ten. The Super 8 wasn’t a full service hotel, but he could order food to go—which they would likely do after they settled into their room.

Key in hand, he headed back out the door. When he reached the car, he opened the door. “Our room is on the first floor a couple of doors down,” he said. “Number twelve.” He handed her the key, then hit the button on his dash and opened the trunk. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Dante,” she called before he closed the door.

The rain came down hard and dripped from his hair, down his nose and chin. But he stood there, waiting for her to say something, anything to make him feel more like a man and less like a fucking lecher.

She blinked and fisted the key in her hand. “Never mind. I’ll see you inside the room.”

He slammed the car door, then retrieved his bag from the trunk. Instead of ordering food to take back to the room, maybe he’d take care of Jessica’s dinner, then leave her to herself and head for the bar. He could use a drink or fifteen. To ease his mind, his guilty conscience and dull his libido.

When he entered the room, he inwardly groaned and refused to make eye contact with Jessica. One king-sized bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by nightstands, and a chair was in the corner by a small desk. Surprisingly, they did have a good-sized flat screen TV. A bonus considering he’d need something to entertain him once the bar closed.

“You’re leaving a puddle on the carpet.”

He looked away from the TV. “What?”

She pointed to his drenched shoes. “You’re leaving a puddle.”

Glancing down, he nodded. “Right. Mind if I jump in the shower first?”

“Not at all. I’m going to get on my phone and check my email.”

No, she was going to check Rachel’s program. He set his bag on the bathroom floor, then turned on the shower. And that was fine by him. She could work, and he could do what she obviously wanted—leave her alone.

He peeled off his clothes and then stepped under the hot spray. Yeah, the bar sounded better and better. A few drinks, a nice fat steak for dinner. Then later, with a little buzz on him and full belly, he would crawl onto his side of the bed and pass out while watching Sports Center.

The plastic curtain billowed slightly, just as cool air filtered in through the steamy shower. “Sorry, it’s just me,” Jessica said. “I have something in my eye and need to flush it out.”

His dick hardened at the sound of her voice, at knowing only a shower curtain separated his naked body from her. Damn it. “Who else would it be?” he asked, when he really wanted to tell her to get the hell out before she caused him to have a full-on erection. “I’m about done here. How much longer are you going to be?”

“There’s a stupid eyelash stuck—” She let out a throaty groan that was likely meant to show her frustration, but damn if it didn’t remind him of the sounds she made when he was buried deep inside her heat. His balls tightened and he pressed on his arousal, willing it to go down.