Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,29
decisions.
As she climbed into bed and settled beneath the covers, she vowed to have a talk with him in the morning, set some boundaries, tell him it was time he stopped calling her angel. Time he took a big step back.
The doorbell rang, putting an end to her thoughts. Trying to imagine who it could be at eleven o’clock at night, Claire grabbed her robe, slipped it on and went into the living room. Through the peephole in the front door, she recognized a familiar face.
Michael? She opened the door.
“Hello, Claire.” Michael Sullivan was tall, about the same height as Ben, wide-shouldered but spare, not an ounce of fat on his trim athletic body. With his dark brown hair and brown eyes, he was handsome.
“I know it’s late,” he said, “but I just flew back to town for a week, and I had to see you. I’ve really missed you, Claire.” Michael pulled her into an embrace and tried to kiss her, but Claire turned her face away. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Just then Ben appeared. He had pulled on his jeans, but his feet were bare and so was his magnificent chest. Claire felt a little jolt in the pit of her stomach.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Ben said, striding forward, those pale eyes fixed on Michael’s face. Michael’s nostrils flared. The testosterone in the room was as thick as heavy perfume.
Claire tried to smile. “Ben Slocum, this is Michael Sullivan.” She positioned herself between the two men. “Michael, Ben is Sam Thompson’s father.”
“Sam Slocum,” Ben corrected.
Claire kept the smile on her face but it wasn’t easy. “You remember my friend Laura?”
Michael ignored her, his brown eyes running over Ben’s naked torso. They stood nearly eye to eye. “What’s he doing here?”
“Sam’s missing,” Claire said. “Ben and I are working together to find him.”
Michael’s gaze traveled over her silk robe, down her bare legs, to the red polish on her toes, and his lips curled back. “Looks like you’re doing a lot more than just working.”
Before she could stop him, Ben had a handful of Michael’s striped dress shirt. “Whatever she’s doing, it’s none of your business.”
Claire thought of all those muscles and that he was a man trained to kill. “Ben, please...”
A heartbeat passed. He let go of Michael’s shirt but didn’t back away.
“Michael’s an old friend,” Claire said, hoping to defuse the situation.
“More than friends,” Michael corrected, pinning her with a glare. “At least we were.”
She turned away from him. “If you wouldn’t mind, Ben, I’d like to speak to Michael alone.”
Ben’s gaze remained locked on Michael’s face. Finally, he shrugged, but the muscles across his shoulders remained tense. “If you need me, you know where I am.” Padding back down the hall to his room, he closed the door.
“You notice he’s sleeping in the guest room,” Claire said as Michael’s dark gaze followed him, “if it’s any of your business, which it no longer is.”
“I’ve been away, Claire, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I love you. I always have.”
“I thought we’d talked this out, that we both understood each other’s feelings.”
“You said the time wasn’t right. I’m here to tell you that in a few more weeks it will be. I have to go back to Colombia to finish my assignment, but after that, I’ll be back in L.A. We can set a date, get married, start living our lives together.”
Claire just shook her head. “What we had was good, Michael, but it’s over. I’m moving forward with my life. You should do the same.”
Michael reached for her, drew her into his arms. “I need you, Claire.” The door opened and Ben walked back into the living room.
“Time to go, friend. Claire needs her sleep. She’s got important things to do.”
Michael’s jaw tightened but he backed away. “It isn’t over, Claire. I’ll talk to you again when I get back from Colombia.” Turning, he walked out of the apartment and closed the front door.
“Your boyfriend, I take it.”
Claire turned to face him. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“For how long?”
“Five months.”
“He wants you back. That what you want?”
“No.”
“Good.” Claire gasped as he hauled her into his arms and his mouth crushed down over hers in a deep, hungry kiss.
* * *
God, she tasted like heaven. Petal-soft lips, skin damp from the shower and smooth as silk. He’d known he wanted her. Until he saw her with Sullivan, he hadn’t known how much.
His mouth moved hotly over hers, coaxing, possessing. She didn’t push him away,