She couldn’t stop looking at him, watching him like a starving woman would a cheesecake.
There was something unreal about him—an elusive, too-male, predatory quality she’d never been able to define. Yet she felt it. She felthim—the danger and the kindness, the complexity and the simplicity. All characteristics he’d probably deny . . . if he bothered to talk at all.
“Noni,” he snapped.
She jumped to her feet.
Hewas pissed?
Hurt rocketed through her, and she shoved most of it away, leaving a lump of coal in her gut. “Sorry to bother you and whatever woman you’re lying your ass off to right now, but I need your help.” Her knees wobbled, but she held herself upright.
He breathed out, and his nostrils flared. “Later.” Angling around her, he shoved the maps and manila files off the bed and into her bag.
She’d forgotten. How had she forgotten his terseness? “I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped.
He turned, and she instantly found herself up against the wall, his hand flat against her upper chest. How had she also forgotten how quickly he could move? He was almost supernatural that way. Fear shocked her, while desire pissed her off. She hated being in this position, where sheneededhim. His face lowered toward hers. Flecks of different shades of blue made up his spectacular eyes, which glittered with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.
She was pinned easily—too easily—in place. This close, she could smell him. Male and forest and leather and something that was all Denver.
He didn’t speak. No order, no sarcasm, no words. He just stared as if he could compel her into obedience with his intensity.
There was a time she’d responded to his looks. She’d read him—almostfelthim. He wasn’t much for talking, and she’d learned to interpret his movements and expressions. Because he had mattered to her.
Apparently she hadn’t mattered a whit to him. Hurt exploded inside her again.
At the reminder, her head snapped back. Her stomach clenched. He had finally bothered to show up and now was giving her orders? Oh, hell no. She tried to struggle, and he kept her still and against the wall with one hand spread across her sternum.
His strength was unreal. Once she’d marveled at it. Not now.
His days of touching her were over. Hurt and anger mixed until she had to act. She pivoted and shot her knee toward his groin, fully intending to connect.
She failed.
His free hand grasped the back of her thigh, shoving her leg to the side and stepping into the vee of her legs. The full length of him, heated and hard, trapped her in place.
She gasped at the contact, sparks shooting through her. Her body warmed and then flashed to a boil, all from one simple touch. All from his nearness—something she’d so desperately missed. There were times she’d wished she hadn’t met him, that she didn’t know what it felt like to be loved by him. To feel as if she were the only thing in the world for him. “Damn it, Denver.”
His nose nearly touched hers. “Are you crazy?”
Maybe. Probably. She’d been out of her mind since he’d shattered her heart. “Let me go.”
“Can’t. You have no idea what you’ve done.” A muscle ticked in his jaw; the fierce anger on his face making him look like a stranger. Not the man she thought she’d known.
Her mind spun. “WhatI’vedone?” Wait a minute. All the thoughts, all the fears of the last year, bombarded her. How many precious moments had she wasted wondering about him? Asking herself why he’d left without a word. Why would posting about him on the Internet cause problems? Her breath stopped. “Oh God. Youaremarried.”
His gaze narrowed even further. “That’s ridiculous.”
All right. She scrambled. “Then wanted. You’re wanted by the law.”
He didn’t answer.
That was an answer, wasn’t it? Oh man. What had she done? Adrenaline flooded through her, and she fought for calmness. How dangerous was he? Really? Maybe she’d been wrong about trusting him to help her. “Leave now. Leave, and I’ll take down all the posts about you.” She clearly didn’t know him. Maybe she never had. For the first time fear—the real kind—shivered down her spine. He was certainly more dangerous than anything else out there.
“Too late,” he gritted out.
“I-I’m . . . sorry.” The words breathed out of her as self-preservation took over. The man was one long line of coiled strength, and she didn’t stand a chance in a fight, even on her best day. They were alone in her motel room, and she had no friends near. He’d left town without any loose ends. The photograph she had of them he hadn’t known about. Was she a loose end? Just what would he do to her? Could she scream?
He blinked. His eyes darkened, and his jaw hardened visibly. “Don’t be afraid of me.”
