Wild for You (17 page)

In the early hours of the morning, she'd lain in his arms listening to the steady beat of his heart as he told her about his childhood and she shared hers with him.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and refilled his mug. "I need to go home," she said, tearing her gaze from his. "I have to check in with my employees, get my charger, and change into fresh clothes." Marisol reached for a ripe peach to fill her empty stomach. "Have you had breakfast already?"

Clay sighed. "Yeah and I've checked in with the precinct for an update on Gabe."

"How is he?" she inquired, not really anxious to know.

Clay grunted. "He settled down when he realized he couldn't be released yet, even with a lawyer. I ordered an FBI fingerprint search to find out if he's ever been arrested."

Marisol held her breath. "Has he?"

"We'll know by tomorrow morning when I check his fingerprints against the latents I picked up in your apartment."

"Latents?" Marisol repeated quizzically.

"The fingerprints I dusted and transferred onto a special card."

Marisol bit into the peach and used her napkin to dab at the sweet juice trickling down her chin. "I think I'll go to my apartment now."

"Hold on." Clay raised his hand and detained her from leaving. "Let's go together. After you pack what you need, we'll move it here."

"I need to go to the market too, so I can buy stuff for dinner."

"There's no need to. We're invited for to Isabel and Linc's tonight."

"Who are they?"

"Some close friends of mine who own a fruit tree nursery in the Redlands."

Marisol's heart did a little leap of joy, flattered that Clay wanted his friends to meet her. This was the first invitation they would accept as a couple, but she told herself not to make too big a deal out of it. "What time are we going there?" she asked, trying to contain her beaming grin.

"We'll leave by six-fifteen. It takes about forty-five minutes to get there. I haven't seen Linc and Isabel for months. Tonight we're celebrating that they're expecting another baby."

"How many children do they have?"

"Two. There's Suzie, Isabel's daughter from her first marriage, who is eight and T.J, who's two."

"Someday I hope to have three children," she said, smiling at him.

"Three? I wouldn't even want one kid at my age."

"What do you mean? You're not too old to have a child," she scoffed.

"Jimmy is all the family I need. Believe me. I have no desire to be a daddy at my age." He made a face of mock horror. "Linc is a brave man. It's a good thing we used protection last night because we don't want an unwanted pregnancy."

Marisol's hopeful heart sank at his blunt comment. She searched his face, hoping for some sign that he hadn't really meant it and for a brief moment she saw a flicker of regret in his dark eyes and then it was gone.

Chapter 8

That afternoon, Marisol tried not to think of what Clay had said, but it kept tormenting her.
"It's a good thing we used protection last night because we don't want an unwanted pregnancy."

Whenever she relived their conversation, she felt desolate. Last night he had been feverishly passionate and tenderly possessive during the most exquisite lovemaking she had ever experienced. He had told her that she belonged to him and she wanted to believe him. But there was one big obstacle—she wanted to get married and have children—and now she was afraid to say so because it would alienate him.

As she worked on her laptop in the dining room, she could hear Clay talking to Jimmy on the phone in his bedroom. When he returned, she asked, "How's Jimmy?"

"He's okay. I explained about last night without worrying him too much and then I told him I couldn't take him out today." Clay sprawled on a seat beside her with a weary smile. "Don't look so sad, he knows I'll make it up to him later."

"Oh good, I wouldn't want him to feel left out." Marisol paused and slanted a curious look at Clay. "Do you think Jimmy might ever fall in love?"

Clay frowned. "Where did that come from? Jimmy doesn't need those types of complications."

She tsked. "Oh, listen to you. We all need a little romance."

"Maybe, but I didn't miss having it after I split from my ex-wife."

"What was she like?" Marisol asked, pleased that he had finally brought up the subject of his ex.

"I'd rather not talk about her," he said, pushing away from the table.

"Don't go," she said, taking his hand so he wouldn't leave.

Clay's jaw was set in forbidding lines.

"What's her name? Is she beautiful?" she asked, eager for details. Clay's face became shuttered as he regarded her in stubborn silence.

Marisol flinched at his caustic look. "Never mind. You don't have to answer that, just tell me what happened." If Clay didn't open up to her, how would she ever understand where he was coming from? "Please," she added as his narrowed eyes regarded her suspiciously.

After a tense pause, Clay let out a ragged breath. "Jillian is a journalistic photographer. Her only goal in life is professional success, no matter how many colleagues she tramples on. She didn't show her true personality until after we were married. She is ruthless."

"When did you divorce her?"

"Let's change the subject."

"Come on, it's only fair. I told you about Gabe."

"That's different." Clay's eyes were bleak and his level tone was meant to dissuade her, but Marisol was far from finished.

"I'm not buying that, Blackthorne," she said, letting go of his hand.

"We'll talk about it later," he said tightly, "subject closed."

If he wanted her to back off, she would—for now—and then try to get some answers at the next opportunity.

Marisol occupied her time by arranging Clay's closet to make room for her clothes. During the hours he spent reading, she changed the bed linens and threw in a load of his wash. Clay had so much on his mind between work and protecting her that she didn't mind doing those things for him. A part of her enjoyed it, making her feel truly married and intimate with Clay.

An hour before it was time to leave, Marisol walked into the dining room and saw Clay sitting at the table, engrossed in a book. She stole up behind him and nuzzled the thick, coarse hair at the back of his neck. "I'm going to freshen up now before we leave," she said, depositing a soft kiss on his nape.

"Okay," he said, not looking up from his book.

So much for romance
. Clay was so absorbed in what he was reading that he hadn't even noticed her caress. His hand snaked out, slid under the back hem of her shorts and gently squeezed her flesh, eliciting a surprised squeal from her. He retrieved his hand and slid it under her crop top, up her spine until he reached her nape and tickled the soft hairs there. "If you hurry, we might have time for a little massage."

Clay's massage was something
not
to be missed. She walked away from him on wobbly legs and took an invigorating shower. Concerns over the reasons for his divorce from Jillian plagued her blissful state and she wondered why he was so turned off to marriage and babies. She didn't believe he thought he was too old to have a baby. He'd also said,
"I plan to keep my vow never to remarry."
Jillian must have done something really awful for Clay not to want to talk about it.

After her shower, Marisol changed into a turquoise sundress and high-heeled sandals. Clay walked into the bathroom while she was styling her hair.

"You shouldn't wear high heels," he murmured, his voice husky.

Marisol whirled around. "I didn't hear you walk in," she said, amazed at how silently he could move for a man his size. "Why shouldn't I wear high heels?" she asked, catching the gleam in his eyes.

"You look too sexy in them. Damn, you smell good enough to eat," he said, kissing her neck.

"You'll have to wait for dessert till we get back," she said with a playful grin.

"Tease," he growled, nipping her earlobe. "You're addictive."

Marisol shivered as his gentle bite nearly buckled her knees and made her toes curl. "Better stop or we'll...we'll be late," she faltered, breathing rapidly as she turned and wrapped her hands around his neck.

He flashed a lazy grin of pure masculine promise as he slid the straps of her dress down and bared her breasts, gathering them in his warm hands. Her nipples tightened as he blew softly on the tips and then took them in his mouth. "When we return, I plan to savor all of you," he said, kissing her breasts again and then covering her up.

He sauntered out of the bathroom, his stiff swagger showing he was already hard with lust.

Marisol gripped the edge of the counter as waves of hot desire inundated her body. She would have let him savor
everything
right there if he'd insisted. The fact that they'd have to wait until the evening only heightened her arousal.

* * *

The long drive to Isabel and Linc's home provided the perfect opportunity for Marisol to broach the subject of Clay's divorce. "Clay," she began sweetly, "finish telling me about your divorce."

He groaned. "Not again. Why are you so interested?"

"I don't mean to be nosy, but it will help me understand better where you're coming from," she said, hoping to encourage him to open up.

"In the short time I've known you, you haven't been able to take 'no' for an answer," he said, clearly exasperated. "Now why is that?"

"I'm a terrible pest, that's why. Satisfied, Detective?" she sassed.

Marisol squelched the urge to grin when she heard him swear under his breath. He was right though; she never gave up easily. If she wanted to know something she would persist until she got answers.

"All right, we'll talk about my divorce this one time and then it's a closed subject. Deal?"

"Deal. Cross my heart and hope to die. I won't bring it up again," she said, crossing her fingers instead.

Clay exhaled a ragged breath. When she caught the despair in his eyes, Marisol braced herself.

"Jillian aborted our child without my knowledge. When I found out, I divorced her," he said curtly.

Marisol's heart constricted at the agony on Clay's face. "I'm sorry. That is so tragic. Why would she do such a thing?"

His mouth twisted bitterly. "She was afraid it might be mentally handicapped like Jimmy. Her exact words were,
I could never deal
with
a retarded kid like your brother."

Clay clutched the steering wheel and turned to look at her, his face an open wound of anguish. "Jillian terminated an innocent life for selfish reasons. It was my baby, too."

Marisol winced as his revelation delivered a painful sucker-punch. "You would've made a great dad. I'm so sorry, Clay. I shouldn't have pried."

"You couldn't have known."

Marisol's heart went out to him. "I can understand how Jillian might have been worried about her baby being mentally handicapped, but I can't imagine anyone having an abortion in such a cold-blooded way. I would have been thrilled to have your baby," she said truthfully.

Clay's bleak eyes studied her face, his gaze unwavering. "You wouldn't have worried about Jimmy's handicap?"

"Not at all," she said sincerely. "Jimmy is wonderful and loving. The possibility of having a disabled child wouldn't have made me consider an abortion. I would love any child of ours," she assured him fiercely and she meant it with every fiber of her being. "I have enough love in my heart for all types of children."

Clay's big hand folded over Marisol's and held it in a tight grip. "Not everyone is as generous and brave as you are, sunshine."

"Thank you." Tears welled up in her eyes. Jillian's abortion had destroyed Clay's faith in love, and Marisol felt wretched for him.

Clay slowed to a stop at the red traffic light and turned to look at her. "I didn't mean to make you cry. All that's behind me now," he said, tipping her chin and kissing her. "I don't miss being married or having children."

"Maybe someday you'll realize how much they can enrich your life," she said hopefully.

"We'll see." He smiled at her and turned his attention to the road ahead. "But I'm not making any promises."

"You must be proud of Jimmy," she said, changing the subject. "He's made a productive life for himself working at the grocery store."

Clay nodded. "He
has
become pretty independent. Jimmy moved in with me after my mom died, but one day when I was working undercover narc, I almost got killed. I realized I wasn't doing him any favors by sheltering him from the outside world since I might not always be there to protect him."

"You're right. I hadn't really considered it," Marisol said, her heart bursting with admiration. Didn't Clay realize he acted like a dad to Jimmy with his strong protective instincts?

"I found a place for him to live where he could make friends and work nearby. The Haven of Hope has an excellent program, and Jimmy's happy and proud of his paycheck."

"Do you take care of his living expenses?" she asked.

"I don't need to. Our dad was a lawyer. He left a generous amount for Jimmy's needs in his will. He'll be well provided for all his life."