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She shivered, missing his warmth immediately — but she couldn’t help appreciating the view as he crossed the room. Left alone, she lay still, wanting to regret the last ten minutes, but finding herself unable to do so.
Making love with Ronan … it was a gift. Something to treasure.
And damn it, she wanted to say the words back to him but dare not. She tested them in Russian. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”
“That’s what you said last night.” Ronan stood in the doorway. “Just before you fell asleep.”
Her pulse jumped. Shit.
He moved to the bed and sat down, his touch gentle, almost reverent as he cleaned her. He leaned over her, bracing himself on one arm, his gaze fixed on hers. “Wanna repeat them in English?”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight, the words lodged somewhere deep inside her. A small shake of her head was all she could manage.
His half smile held a trace of sadness. “That’s okay. Maybe another time.”
Guilt washed over her and she hooked her hand around his neck. “Kiss me, Marine.”
His mouth found hers, and she gave him the words silently.
34
Sisters
Felicity parked in her usual spot but didn’t get out. She sat there instead, staring at the building. The lingering languor from Ronan’s lovemaking had burned off during the short drive, leaving her restless, her skin stretched too tight.
Uncertainty pressed in — heavy, inescapable.
She shook her head, needing to focus on what lay ahead.
That promise she made to herself … it was binding.
Her cellphone pinged. It was a message from Ronan: You’ve got this.
She had received another message earlier. From her sister: By now, you probably know I’m back in Clearbrook. Beau knows everything, but not your identity. It’s up to you how you proceed.
She tossed the phone aside and buried her face in her hands. Maybe she should just leave. Now. Forget about awkward reunions. Her sister was back, making her presence in Clearbrook unnecessary.
Coward, a voice sounding suspiciously like Sergei snipped in her head.
She dropped her hands. “Chyort!” That man was not winning today.
With a sigh, she got out and walked into an unusually subdued bullpen.
Tobie nodded as she passed. Mercer didn’t even offer his usual scowl. Brianna, mid-call, widened her eyes in greeting. June waved her hand, and Felicity gave a chin lift in return. A few minutes of reprieve. She collapsed into her chair.
A sharp rap on the sheriff’s window behind her made her flinch. She spun around, pulse stuttering, and locked eyes with the man himself. He beckoned her with his hand. Felicity rose, squared her shoulders, jaw tight, forcing herself to move with purpose.
“Nebraska State Patrol and DEA are singing your praises,” Beau said as she entered his office.
The words took a moment to sink in. Heat flooded her face. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Both are threatening to poach you for themselves.”
With great effort, she injected some cool humor into her voice. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“Not at all. After Collins, you’re my most experienced deputy, and the work you did with them to locate and neutralize the drug operation was outstanding.” He cocked his head. “But your talents are wasted in Clearbrook, and it would be remiss of me to hold you back.”
Before she could formulate a response, the door slammed open.
