Chapter Twenty

“Ginny? For God’s sake, what are you doing here?”

Brendan Fagan answered the door wearing a soft, off-white shirt and his uniform trousers. When he saw her, his eyes widened.

“What do you think?” she retorted. Planting her hand in the center of his chest, she pushed him back into the room, followed, and shut the door. Toeing up to him, she stared into his face fiercely. “You lied to me.”

Acknowledgement flooded his eyes. “Aye, lass. I am that sorry. I was following orders.” The sincere regret in his voice should have mollified her; it didn’t.

“Oh, do not try and put the blame on orders. Do not! You might have been honest with me rather than sending a message saying you were working.”

“I was working; I got off not long since.”

“You said you had to work tonight and couldn’t see me.”

He held up his hands. “Very well so; you are right. I rarely do lie to women. I made an exception with you.”

“Why?”

“Come and sit down.”

“I’m too angry to sit. Angry and…and frustrated. I was looking forward to our time together. You disappointed me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I trusted you. And I never trust good-looking men.”

His eyes met hers. What did she see there? An emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

“I didn’t suppose it mattered a great deal anyway,” he began.

“Not matter a great deal?”

“Since we would have only a few more days together before you left to go home.”

That knocked all the wind out of Ginny’s sails.

“Break it off now or a few days from now.” He shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

She gasped, feeling curiously as if he’d struck her across the face, and backpedaled. “You might have been honest about it.”

“Aye, I might. I should.”

“Besides, Brendan, we would have had a few more days. A few more nights. I needed that.” Furiously, she added, “I need this!”

Without further words, she threw herself into his arms. Her mouth found his in a kiss as demanding as it was deliciously intimate. When she came up for air, she looked into his eyes and uttered the words she’d never imagined speaking. “I need you.”

“Oh, God, lass.” He swallowed convulsively. “Don’t say that. It’s as good as my career.”

“Why? I don’t understand why.”

“Conflict of interest.”

“That’s what that ass Addelforce said.”

“You’ve been to see Addelforce?”

“I went to the station looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, lass. I don’t doubt it’s made matters worse.”

“Explain.”

“Someone reported I’ve been spending my nights with you. ’Tis difficult to claim I can remain objective if you and I are…involved.”

“Well, but…”

“Addelforce wanted to take me off the case, and there’s a lot at stake.”

“So you agreed to break it off?”

He shrugged uncomfortably.

Ginny tossed her head. “So don’t tell Addelforce we’re still seeing each other.”

“Eh?”

“I’ll stay here the next few nights. No one will ever know.”

“Except the person from whom you got my address.”

“A nice young man. He promised not to tell.”

“It doesn’t matter. This city has eyes. And gossip like this is too good not to share.”

Desperate, she stared at him. “Just tonight, then.”

“Jaysus, Ginny.” He palmed his eyes and turned away from her. “Is it worth it? If I get caught, it could cost my job.”

“Brendan, Brendan…” She seized his arms and pulled him back to her. “I’ll make it worth it. Just one last night.”

“Well, that’s it, Ginny.” He drew away from her and tossed his hands in the air. “You want honesty? The truth is I don’t know if I can do just one night. I don’t think I can watch you walk away from me in a few days as if none of this ever happened. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you face to face. It left me too…too…”

“Open?”

“Vulnerable, aye. I’m never vulnerable with women, do you understand? But you…”

Heat washed over Ginny in a flood, followed by cold. She, who held so hard to her independence, could see his point.

“But Brendan, what’s the answer? I certainly can’t stay in Buffalo indefinitely.” She gulped air. “You haven’t asked me to stay.”

“That’s why I decided maybe Addelforce had it right. This was a mistake from the first.”

“A mistake? All that pleasure? All that joy?”

“I’m sorry,” he said for the third time. “Best to go before anyone discovers you’re here. Before we both get hurt.”

Oh, God, oh, God, he was sending her away. It was Hank all over again.

She stiffened her spine. “I am not in the habit of throwing myself at men.”

“I know that fine, lass. And I’m that grateful we had what time we did.”

“You will regret this.”

“I already do. Let me call you a cab.”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m not letting you out on those streets alone.”

She leaned close. “Then you’d better reconsider and let me stay.”

****

Not a man to vacillate—usually—Brendan tended to make up his mind and then stick to his decisions. So why did he find it so hard to send Ginny Landry away and have done with it?

Could be the temptation of one more night sharing passion the like of which he’d never known with any other woman. Could be the way she looked at him, standing there with both challenge and pleading in her eyes.

He suspected, though, it was because he feared if he sent her away now he’d never see her again.

He’d regret it if he let her stay. And if he didn’t. And sure as hell he’d get caught out in it by someone on the force. That was just the way life worked.

On the other hand, what had it taken for her to come here this way? What guts and courage! Courage like that deserved some reward. He could think of about a dozen ways to reward her, right there in his bed.

He groaned.

She turned around and slid the bolt on the door.

“If this is it,” she whispered, “we’d better make it good.”

He caught her face between his hands, drew her up against his body, and kissed her. On her toes, she pressed herself to the length of him in a gesture of surrender.

When the kiss ended, she said, “Anything you want, Brendan. Any way you want.”

“Does that mean you’ll take orders?”

“Yes.” Because she was Ginny, she added, “And give them.”

Maybe he’d die tonight and not have to worry about tomorrow. Or the day after. A good result.

He backed a step and looked at her. “Out of those clothes.”

She shucked them slowly and in a manner that drenched him with heat, her gaze holding his.

“Now, on the bed.”

“On it or in it?”

“What did I say?”

She started for the bed but turned as swiftly back again. Displaying flagrant disobedience, she unbuttoned his shirt and drew it from him before applying her tongue to his skin, down his neck, across one shoulder and back to forage amid the hair on his chest.

“God, you taste so good. I’ve been craving that ever since last night.” Her eyes met his again. “And I happen to know you taste even better down below.” She reached for his belt; he gasped.

“Sergeant, may I remove your trousers?”

“You may—minx.”

She sank gracefully to her knees. He buried his hands in her hair, closed his eyes, and traveled straight to Heaven.

****

Ginny liked Brendan’s bed, and not just because Brendan was in it. Big and deep, it had a feather ticking that threatened to swallow them both. It felt cozy and safe, as if the two of them had found a nest away from the world.

Of course the fact that the bed contained Brendan didn’t hurt.

Sometime long after midnight, she stretched and turned once more to him. The light had long since gone out, but she didn’t need to see him in order to see him. She found she had every separate detail engraved on her mind: the spattering of freckles across both shoulders. The scar just above his knee he said came from a dog bite. The graceful strength of his hands that had been all over her.

Now he’d fallen asleep. She could tell that from his deep, quiet breathing. But she couldn’t let him waste this night in sleep.

“Brendan. Brendan!”

“Um.”

She climbed on top of him, naked flesh to naked flesh, and kissed him. She felt it the instant he came awake, came alive. His hands cradled her, and he began to participate enthusiastically, so warm and intimate there in the dark, so beautiful it made her ache.

When she needed to breathe, she broke the kiss and said, “No sleep, no time for it. We have only this one night.”

He went very still.

“Brendan? What is it?”

“I was right. Ginny, I cannot do just one night. I want you forever. Stay with me.”

She gasped, the air coming out of her in a squeak. Her mind flitted over it, and for the first time she considered the possibility.

To never go home, never spend her days riding wild on horseback, to devote her life to a man who let his duty rule him.

“Impossible.”

Now he asked the question, “Why?”

“What about your career? I’m infamous.”

Again he went still. She knew it meant he thought hard. “You’re right. Perhaps once we get things settled, these murders solved—once the unrest dies down, if the automatons do or don’t get their rights…”

“Maybe then.” She tried to see that far ahead and failed. Not one for looking at the future, she’d learned to live in the moment, enjoy what she could hold in her hands. This moment—here, now.

“You can always come back to Buffalo.”

“I could.” Why did the notion make her feel so bleak? Because she didn’t want to come back to this city where the mother she never knew had died? Or because she didn’t want to leave Brendan Fagan in the first place?

“The question is”—he threaded his fingers through her hair in that way he had and cupped the back of her head—“will you?”

Yes, that was the question. Once away from all this, back in the Dakota Territory, would the desire for him be enough to call her back again? They had only the desire and this blinding intimacy. He’d said nothing about love.

Did she love him? If she did, wouldn’t she be willing to stay—infamy, the demands of his job, and all?

“Brendan,” she whispered, “I don’t know. You asked me to be honest. I don’t want to promise; I don’t like breaking promises.”

He wrapped her in his arms tight and drew her against him, heartbeat to heartbeat. He laid his cheek against her hair and, foolish wretch that she was, tears stung her eyes.

“Then one more time before it gets light,” he told her. “For goodbye.”