HE’D ALL BUT knocked her into a wall. His hands were shaking.
Out of control.
Nadia hadn’t given any signal suggesting she was ready for more, but the certainty in her voice when she talked about moving away had slammed into him like a hammer blow. And knowing she would have sacrificed the dream that had brought her to Byrum for the sake of a sick little girl and her family—yeah, that hit him hard, too. She could still care about a man who had sneaked into her home to steal the money she’d worked so hard to raise, who had let her take the blame.
Any doubts Ben had had that he was in love with her had been erased tonight during dinner. If she asked him to back off—he’d do it, of course he would, but stopping now wouldn’t be easy. If she’d been wearing a skirt, he would have lifted her and slid his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties. Stroked her, found out how wet she was, how ready—
The vivid picture of himself taking her right here, against the wall, clanged an alarm in his head. This would be their first time, not how he wanted it to be even if her eagerness matched his.
Eager? Desperate was more like it.
With a groan that rumbled up from his chest, he tore his mouth from hers and gulped for air, then rested his forehead against hers. “I want you,” he said gutturally. His hips rocked without permission from above. He should be striving for romance, but had lost his vocabulary.
She made a little sound and tried to align her lips to his again.
Taking a deep breath, Ben made himself lift his head and look at her. Really look. What he saw was stunning vulnerability. Her mouth was swollen, her cheeks pink—with a blush, and maybe from the scrape of his evening beard. Dazed and dreamy eyes had his heart lurching.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
A tiny smile curved her lips. “I think I’m insulted.”
“I’m not sorry I kissed you. Just...that I was pushing.”
One hand hadn’t made it up to his neck. She flattened it now on his chest, then began slow circles. When her fingertips found his nipple, his body jerked.
“I’m not sorry you kissed me, either,” Nadia murmured. “I’m sorry you stopped.”
He squeezed her hip, loving the lush flesh, even as he confessed bluntly, “I’ve reached my limit if we’re not going upstairs.”
“I... I’d like that, if...”
He didn’t give her a chance to say if what. Instead he kissed her, hard and hungry, before hustling her to the door that opened to the staircase. When they got there, she stared at it for a moment as if her comprehension wasn’t any sharper than his, then said, “Um, my keys.”
Well, crap—where was her purse? Ben spotted it on the floor down the hall, and remembered hearing when she dropped it. Highly motivated, he moved fast.
Nadia snatched her bag from him and had the door open within seconds. Following on her heels, he locked behind them, then pursued her up the stairs. She wore thin, wrinkled linen pants that still let him drink in the sexiest ass he’d ever seen. Just a little jiggle. With the view, he would have happily climbed ten flights of stairs.
Or not. Getting there soon, and to a bed, would be better.
In her apartment, she cast a shy look over her shoulder, let her purse fall to the sofa and walked straight through to her bedroom. Beside her bed, she stalled, as if unsure what she should do.
Ben gently turned her to face him. Brain hazed, desire so sharp it hurt, he could have laid her back, ripped off those pants and buried himself in her.
Instead, he found the self-control to look into her beautiful eyes and stroke her cheeks with his knuckles. This wasn’t just sex, he reminded himself. It was love, even if she didn’t know it yet.
Unless he was deluding himself, but he didn’t think so.
* * *
THE TENDERNESS IN Ben’s touch, in his eyes, settled Nadia’s nerves. This wasn’t wrong, or too soon, or any of the things she’d been fearing. He wouldn’t turn on her again. She didn’t believe that. There’d been so many times already when he had stood at her back, a hand resting on her as if to say, I’m here. She had no doubt he’d been staring down her opponents at the same time. And, while she might never get over her reaction to the sight of a gun, she knew Ben would never use the one he carried for anything but the right reasons.
All her doubts evaporated. All Nadia could think was how much she’d been wanting to touch him. To see his bare chest. To explore his fascinating body.
She skimmed her fingertips over his rough jaw, then down his neck, corded with tension. When she reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged, Ben bent and let her yank it over his head.
A throaty sound of pleasure escaped her, heating his eyes. Nadia splayed her hands on that beautiful chest, testing the texture of his hair—springy and surprisingly soft—the play of muscles that tightened and jumped at her touch, the hard layer of muscles protecting his belly. All Ben did was watch with burning eyes as she explored, pressing nibbling little kisses to his chest as her hands moved on to his back. More lean, powerful muscles, pads protecting his spine, the sharp edges of his shoulder blades.
“You have the most beautiful body,” she whispered.
“Not like yours.”
Ben groaned, his hands a blur as he stripped off her shirt. Unfortunately, trying to lift both arms to help pulled a groan from her, a pained one.
“I forgot,” he whispered. “How could I forget?” He made her turn so he could check the white gauze in back, too. “No bleeding,” he said, as if to himself.
“No, it’s a little sore, that’s all.” More than a little, but Nadia’s awareness of that kind of pain was very distant right now. If he decided he needed to back off, she didn’t know what she’d do. Cry? Clobber him?
At last, he cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs sliding over the white cotton of her bra, unerringly finding nipples that budded at his touch. His expression now was the furthest thing from worried.
Her fingers flexed involuntarily on his back even as she looked down at herself. “I wish I’d worn something prettier for you. But it’s so hot, and—”
“I’m more interested in what’s underneath.” His voice was all gravel, as if he was on the edge of control. And yes his hands had a faint tremor, but that didn’t prevent him from unfastening her bra with a single flick of those fingers. He swept it away, and then stared.
Nobody had ever looked at her that way, with wonder and desire that slashed color across his cheeks. She whimpered, and finally grabbed one of his hands and put it on her breast. And then he was kneading both, and his mouth had captured hers again. He kissed her as if starved for her, as if he’d never get enough. His tongue thrust in erotic mimicry of what he wanted to do to her—what he intended to do.
They all but fell on the bed, although he took their weight on his shoulder. Always protective. The frame creaked. He tore his mouth away so he could kiss and suckle her breasts until her hips rose and fell in desperate need. She wanted him inside her; she wanted to be inside his skin. She melted even as she grabbed him, probably clawed him, wriggled until his thigh pressed between her legs and she could push up against him.
“Please, please, please.” That had to be her chanting the plea. Being embarrassed never occurred to her.
Ben reared up and fumbled with the button at her waist even as she struggled with his. He ripped her pants down, panties going with them, before she could get her fingers on his zipper.
On his feet, he backed away from the bed, dark eyes eating her up, and sat on the rocker by the window long enough to untie his athletic shoes, kick them off and send his socks flying.
Nadia couldn’t just lie here anymore. She rose to her knees. “Come closer.”
The hot Missouri sun had nothing on his blistering gaze. He took the step that brought him to the bedside. While she bit her lip and worked carefully at his zipper, Ben took his wallet from his back pocket and removed a couple of packets. In a sensible corner of her mind, she thought, Oh, thank goodness. She was on birth control, but still had always insisted on a condom, too. But tonight, if he hadn’t brought one...she wouldn’t have given a second thought to her usual caution.
The instant she had the zipper down, Ben shed his jeans and navy knit boxers.
It was Nadia’s turn to stare. When she reached out and ran a fingertip down his penis, it jerked and Ben made a pained sound.
He also stepped back again. “I’m on the edge,” he said hoarsely. “Let me—” Now his hands really were shaking, but he got the condom on.
The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, Ben’s weight pressing her into the mattress. Her legs parted to accept him, and she answered his ravenous kiss with her own hunger. On the edge or not, he took his time, stroking, kneading, until his fingers slid between her legs and he stoked her liquid fire. And finally, finally, he was there, pushing inside, still holding back as he watched her face.
“Yes,” she said, trying to pull him deeper. He responded by driving deep, pulling back, doing it again, until they found a rhythm so right, it had her clutching him and making incoherent noises, while Ben’s chest vibrated with a groan that seemed to go on forever. He never looked away from her face. Nadia imploded with shocking speed, him right behind her, teeth gritted, head bowed back.
Somehow he kept his weight on his elbows. The stunned expression on his face matched what she felt.
* * *
SHE MUST HAVE been drowsing, but Nadia roused when Ben got up and went to the living room. Voice low, he talked briefly to someone. Lucy, of course. Who would now know he was spending the night in Nadia’s bed.
The idea was a little embarrassing, but she suspected Lucy had already been very aware that something was going on between her and Ben. She had maybe even encouraged it.
When he slipped back into bed and found Nadia awake, he made love to her again, starting slow and sweet, discovering what pleased her, letting her indulge herself as she learned what pleased him, too. But slow became intense, even frantic, driving them both to pleasure and a sense of closeness that was completely new to her.
And always, always, he remained conscious of her wounds and protected her.
When she awakened the next time, sunlight poured in. The temperature was already rising in the room. Not that she and Ben had ever pulled a cover over themselves. He was still sound asleep.
Nadia didn’t move for a long time, savoring the beat of his heart beneath her hand, the curve of his shoulder providing a pillow for her head, the utter relaxation on a face too often taut and guarded. But temptation beckoned, and she let her hand stray. Not more than a minute passed before his dark lashes lifted and a smile tugged at his mouth.
“You’re an early bird,” he said in a voice still roughened by sleep.
“I don’t actually think it’s early.” She hadn’t looked at the clock yet, but the angle of the sun suggested they had slept in. And why not? It was Sunday. She’d hardly have to see a soul until Tuesday morning, by which time everyone in Henness County who followed the news or belonged to a gossip network would know who had taken the money and why—and that it had been returned. That she hadn’t had anything to do with it. She let herself feel giddy, uncomplicated relief, if only for right now.
This time, she teased and played until Ben’s entire body vibrated and he flipped her to her back. And then he swore.
“I only had two condoms.”
“Don’t stop.” She lifted her hips until he was nudging her again. “You can’t.”
“Nadia.” He sounded desperate.
“It’s okay.” Forming words was almost beyond her. “I’m on birth control.”
He grabbed her hips and plunged deep. Morning laziness became raw need.
By the time she lay panting atop him, Nadia wished they never had to leave this bed. She suspected Ben felt the same. His hands roved with astonishing tenderness, as if she was the same miracle to him that he was to her.
But finally he sighed. “It may be Sunday, but I have things I need to do.”
They took turns showering. To shave, Ben used a small, plastic razor she offered, muttering a curse or two as he nicked himself. Both dressed; Nadia scrambled eggs while he made toast and poured the coffee.
Once they were finished, she asked what he could accomplish on a Sunday.
“Count the money and be sure it really is all there. Let the prosecuting attorney know. Give the mayor a heads-up. Prepare a statement, although I may not issue it until Monday. Depends on how successful I am talking to people today.”
“Will you let me know about the money? And...when you’ll be making a statement?”
Ben’s face softened and he reached across the table for her hand. “I will. If you don’t object, once we count the money, I’ll put it back in a locker until tomorrow.”
Nadia shuddered. No, she didn’t want it here in her apartment ever again.
“I’ll return it to you tomorrow morning,” Ben added.
That made her twitch. “Maybe it would be better if you took it right to the aid organization.”
“You’re not opening on Mondays anymore, are you? Once I confirm the money is all there, you can give the good news to Bill Jarvis and have him meet us tomorrow morning at whatever bank they’re using.”
“Yes.” She relaxed. Except... “Should we wait until you’ve made the statement?”
“Maybe.” He frowned. “That might be better. I don’t want a garbled story getting out.”
With a lingering kiss and caution to be careful, Ben took off.
Now alone, Nadia wished she wasn’t, that she, too, had somewhere she needed to be. Instead...what was she going to do today, besides wonder how her detractors would react to the news?
Quilt, she decided. She wasn’t far from done with the one in the frame downstairs. She might even finish it today.
She did work, but also found herself glancing at the clock with absurd regularly, frustrated by how slowly the minute hand moved. A tiny jerk forward now and again wasn’t nearly enough.
When her phone rang after a seeming eternity, she pounced on it. “Ben?”
“Are you home? If so, do you mind if I come by?”
“Yes. Hurry!”
His chuckle warmed her.
When he pulled up in front, Nadia unlocked the door and had it open by the time he crossed the sidewalk. He had driven his own SUV, but wore a crisp blue uniform with badge.
“You went home and changed,” she said in surprise.
“I didn’t think I should wear jeans and a T-shirt that spent the night on the floor when I met with Hsis Honor. Besides, I rarely appear at the station in civvies.”
Nadia took a deep breath. “Was the money all there?”
“Every penny, plus a few.”
“What?”
“Someone miscounted. You have an extra eleven dollars and sixty-seven cents. We counted twice.”
“Come on in back. I’ve been quilting.”
She resumed her seat, but didn’t reach for her thimble or needle. She just waited as he pulled up a chair.
“Those weren’t easy conversations,” Ben said. “Both the mayor and the prosecuting attorney have known Jim for years.”
She only nodded.
“Neither had heard about Jim’s daughter, though,” Ben continued. “He tripped over his pride. If he’d been more open about what was happening, I’m guessing the community would have come together for the family. They were both more sympathetic than I am to Jim for not coming forward sooner. And planning the theft well in advance. Impulse, that’s easier to forgive.”
“He did bring the money back.”
Ben’s mouth twisted. “That’s damned unusual—I’ll give you that.”
“Do you think the prosecutor will go easy on him?”
“No question. I called Jim, told him he needs to find an attorney, and he said he already has. His wife pushed him. So I’ll be out of this soon. Bob and I sat down together and roughed out a statement.”
Bob? Oh. The mayor. Bob Finzel. She’d seen his name in the paper often enough.
“I’ll announce that an arrest has been made because the man who took it deeply regrets his actions and returned every penny. I have to name him.” Ben’s regret colored his voice. “I’ll say that we can’t condone his criminal behavior, but do feel he redeemed himself in bringing back the money and is unlikely to offend again. That Ms. Markovic, whose reputation has suffered from unwarranted suspicion and accusation, is relieved to have her name cleared but wouldn’t have pressed charges if given a choice. She’s deeply concerned for Mr. Wilcox’s daughter, undergoing treatment for childhood leukemia.” He paused. “I’ll delete that part if you’d prefer.”
“No, I like it.”
“And in conclusion—” he deepened his voice and gave her a wry grin “—we’re very pleased to be able to hand over the money to the aid organization for which it was intended, etcetera, etcetera.”
“So...it’s over, for everyone but Jim and his family.” She felt oddly numb.
“Yeah.”
“If only he were Amish.”
Ben grunted. “Hospital bills would be paid, church members would be sitting with his daughter, babysitting his son, providing meals so his wife didn’t have to cook, and he’d never have fallen behind on his mortgage.”
Nadia frowned, thinking. “He must have a church.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure a collection will be taken up for his family, but the total will be a drop in the bucket. In a community this size, people would have to dig deep in their pockets to cover the kind of medical bills showing up in his mailbox. A lot of those people will be thinking about how tight their budgets are and how they’re still paying for insurance, so why didn’t he?”
Maybe no jail time wasn’t that big a favor, Nadia realized, depressed. It was like throwing a drowning man a life ring with no attached rope. He might not go under right away, but nobody would pull him in, either.
“Can I tell people now?”
Ben glanced at his watch. “The press conference is scheduled for one o’clock. So yes, I don’t see any reason you can’t contact anyone you please.” He raised his eyebrows. “Say, Allison Edgerton, or Julie Baird.”
“Neither of them deserves a minute of my time. I was mostly thinking of Colleen, and then I can drive out to see Hannah and—Oh, shoot, it’s Sunday. Is it church Sunday?”
He frowned. “I’ve lost track.”
Nadia touched his hand. “Thank you. For caring about me and still doing your best for him.”
“Even cops can be decent human beings, you know.”
He didn’t sound offended, but she jumped to her feet and kissed him anyway. “I know,” she said softly. “I even know the negotiator and SWAT officers in Colorado Springs thought they were doing the right thing. I shouldn’t blame them.”
When she straightened, he grabbed her hands. “We have to make hard decisions too often,” he said, eyes intent. “It’s not always about whether to shoot or not. In law enforcement, the most minor actions or inactions can have deadly consequences.”
Was that a warning? Maybe it was one she needed to hear, if they were to be involved. She couldn’t let her own experiences color her reaction when he told her about something that happened. Or when some small-minded or embittered person did.
“I need to go.” He grimaced as he got to his feet. “Gotta do my favorite part of the job.”
“Come on,” she teased. “Most people love to see themselves on television.”
Ben grunted his opinion of that. “You going to stay here?”
“I think so. I don’t want to intrude even if the Amish don’t have church today. But I will call Colleen and some of the other women who have been so nice.”
He tugged her into his arms. “You need to do some prep, too. The minute I step away from the podium, your phone will start ringing, so prepare a short statement of your own, then stick to it.”
“Oh, no.”
He grinned. “Oh, yes. News outlets will all want a comment from you.”
She made a face. “Do I have to talk to Dave Rutledge?”
Ben chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Console yourself that he’s having to eat his words. Be extra sweet.”
“Oh, fun.”
“And be careful.” All trace of his amusement was gone. “Don’t open the door to anyone but a good friend. I’d rather you don’t drive out to the Yoders or anywhere else, not yet. We still don’t know what was behind the shooting.”
“If it had to do with the money—”
“You’d be safe after word gets out.”
She searched his face. “But you don’t think I will be.”
“No. Spitting on you, that’s one thing. Being willing to kill, that’s different.”
Her stomach took a big swoop, or maybe it was her heart. This morning’s giddy relief? Premature.
Somebody wants to kill me.
And she couldn’t afford to forget that.