Assumed Identity - By Julie Miller Page 0,51

Jake threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped her head to hold her against the driving force of his desire. Her back hit the wall and his body followed as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, plundering her lips, drinking in her heat and tasting her welcome. He knew how badly he wanted Robin, but he hadn’t known how much he needed her to want him a little bit, too. Not just as some kind of monster to scare away the bad guys, but as a man.

That she’d taken charge of the kiss, that she framed his jaw and pulled him to her, that her lips and tongue were inviting him to do the same sweet things to her she was doing to him, was as heady and healing and normal as anything he’d felt since losing himself to that bullet.

Her mouth was soft and warm and delicious as he claimed it again and again. Her hair was silky and strong tangled between his fingers. Her soft, throaty moans skittered over him like a physical touch, eliciting a husky groan of his own. Her fingertips bit into his chest, his shoulders, then skimmed up the column of his neck to hold on to his battered face again.

Jake needed, and he took. Robin gave and he humbly thanked her. She was sweet and sexy and everything he could ever want. The kiss was raw and passionate and maybe just a little bit rough. They were linked by hands and lips and the fiery heat igniting between them. But Jake felt a connection being forged deep inside him, a bond to this woman that felt more real and right than any hazy memory of the life he’d lived.

And because of that connection, because it was already too late for a man who didn’t want to get involved to deny his feelings for this woman, Jake ended the kiss. He was too weak to completely break away, though, so he rested his forehead against hers. Robin was breathing as hard as he was, but she stood tall and strong with him. Her hands settled at the base of his throat, providing an unexpected cooling balm to the injured skin there. He eased his grip in her hair and opened his eyes to find her looking right up at him. Her cheeks were flushed with heat and the pink abrasion his beard had left around her mouth looked as if he’d stamped himself there. He’d expected her to look as dazed as he felt.

But there was a purpose in those gray-blue eyes, a directness that seemed to indicate she felt that same connection, too. She was asking the silent question now and Jake nodded. “He won’t mess with you,” he vowed. “Or Emma. I’m involved.”

Maybe he’d just been expertly played. Flirt with the big monster. Give him some sugar. Get his heart and hormones racing so hard that he’d do anything to get another kiss, some tender touches and maybe something more—all in exchange for getting involved in Robin Carter’s problems and making them go away.

Didn’t matter if he’d been played or not. And he might well regret it. But he wasn’t going anywhere now. There were too many strange things happening around this tiny family. He intended to keep them both safe. Or die trying.

At last Jake found the strength to pull his hands from her mussed hair and back some distance between them. “Pack your things. I’ll call Robbie and tell him I won’t be back tonight. I’ll need to make a stop by my place. Then I’m taking you home.”

Chapter Eight

“I love what you’ve done with the place.”

Robin set Emma’s carrier on the small, laminate-topped counter that passed for a kitchen in Jake’s tiny apartment. Other than the weightlifting equipment in one corner, Jake’s apartment looked as old and out of date as the dingy limestone facade outside.

“All the comforts of home,” his tone mocked, “if comfortable isn’t the thing you’re going for.” He tossed his key on a tiny table with one chair and walked to the dresser beside the lone closet.

Nice to see he had a sense of humor hidden beneath that stony exterior. Other than a few terse commands about where to turn and park, their short trip from the floral shop had passed in silence, giving her plenty of time to second-guess the wisdom of forming this alliance with Jake Lonergan. It was sad, if not surprising, to see that he lived in such a