said flatly. Knowing that—accepting it—had made it almost impossible to touch her weapon since.
“You can’t know that.” There was a thread of anger in Nate’s voice. “It’s like you said, he’d probably have been dead either way. The knee shot didn’t necessarily mean Volk would just give up.”
“We’ll never know.” Her voice was bleak.
“When things go that wrong . . .” His tone softened. Turned gentle. “We’re harder on ourselves than anyone else would think of being. The press made you out as a hero. The whole team. We have to celebrate the good stuff because all too often in our work there are no happy endings. One boy went home to his parents. Hold on to that.”
“And one boy didn’t. Somehow that’s easier to recall.”
As if galvanized into action, he closed the distance between them. Placed his hands on the counter on either side of her. And leaned in.
His kiss was whisper soft. Meant to comfort rather than to arouse. She stood stock still, shocked at the contact. Shocked even further at its effect on her.
She released a long, shuddering sigh that she hadn’t realized had been trapped in her chest. His lips parted, as if to inhale it. Their breath mingled. And he was careful, very careful not to touch her anywhere else.
The press of his mouth became a bit harder and the firmness was as welcome as his earlier gentleness had been. She wasn’t a woman to need a man for comfort. To depend on one in any way. And maybe that, too, had led to the failure of her marriage. It was hard to grow closer to someone when one was determined to stay a little distant.
Risa indulged herself by returning the kiss, sinking into it in a way that had nothing to do with dependence and everything to do with need. She’d learned a few things about the man over the course of the time they’d known each other. But she didn’t know the important things. Didn’t know his taste, his flavor. The feel of his muscled chest against her curves or the hard angles where sinew met bone. It seemed imperative to learn those things now. In the dead of night, when it seemed no one else in the world was awake but the two of them. In a time when two people could banish ghosts and make memories that had to be easier to bear than the ones that haunted her.
Her tongue touched his lips and his body jerked, grazing hers for an instant before he eased back. He would have ended the contact there. She knew that instinctively. Which was why she closed the space between them and slipped her arms around his waist.
He was motionless against her. In another time, with another man, she might have been mortified, thinking she’d misjudged the situation. Mistaken his interest or intent. But she recognized what his inaction cost him. Felt the tremble of his body against hers and heard the sharply indrawn breath against her lips.
“This isn’t why I brought you . . .” His words trailed off when she scored his bottom lip with her teeth. And thought it sweet that he felt the need to assure her of something she already knew.
“I don’t need protecting,” she whispered against his mouth before cruising her lips along his jawline. “Not from the past. Or the present. But I do appreciate the sentiment.” She nipped lightly, right where the muscle would clench in his jaw sometimes and was rewarded when it jumped. “I know what I want. The question is, do you?”
He tilted his head back far enough to look at her through slitted eyes. “I want it all. Whatever you’ll give me. And then more.”
Panic flared briefly. The demand had been made boldly. Leaving no room for denial. But his hands came up to cradle her face and his lips met hers again. His tongue swept into her mouth, a frankly carnal invasion. And she knew intuitively that he wouldn’t offer her another chance to retreat.
She didn’t want one. Risa welcomed the hot hunger in the kiss. Returned it. Palms itching to explore, she saw no reason to deny herself the feel of him. Smooth skin covered the ridges along his sides. And when she moved one hand to skate across his belly, the muscles beneath her fingers jumped.
It would be easy to get used to determining the pace. The speed. The depth. But she’d known intuitively she’d battle him for control. He wouldn’t