Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,58
take her for his own. Why would he want to sign up for more of the same? He’d probably be more than happy to go off and chase arms dealers and terrorists in some other part of the world. A warmer part.
Some other woman probably needed saving—one who would more than welcome him in her arms and in her bed.
“Hey.”
He squeezed her knee, and she jumped.
“None of this is your fault. Abby involved you in her scheme when she had no right to drag you into this. According to my buddy Cade Stark, that woman was seven kinds of crazy.”
“And I’m one.” Noelle blinked back the tears. Her vision blurred so that J.D. turned into a dark shape moving into her space.
His warm body squeezed in next to her in the chair, his arm snaking around her shoulders. He pressed his lips against the bandage on her temple. “If you’re crazy, half the people I know are raving lunatics. I don’t know one woman and only a handful of men who could’ve endured what you’ve been through and still be standing, walking, talking and even reasoning like you’ve been. Okay, that sounded kind of sexist, but you know what I mean.”
She allowed her head to drop to his broad shoulder. “When Alex was murdered in front of me, I went into this downward spiral of obsessive-compulsive behavior. My mother was OCD, and I’d had some tendencies over the years, but I think my art saved me. But when Alex died, the guilt was overwhelming.”
“A lot of survivors experience guilt. Hell, it’s a full-time occupation in my business.”
“It was more than survivor’s guilt.” He opened his mouth to protest again, and she placed a finger over his lips. “You don’t understand, J.D. By the time Alex was murdered, I had already asked him for a divorce. I was done with that marriage. We were talking things out. He didn’t want a divorce, and he promised things would be better. Then he died, and I didn’t have to argue with him anymore—and I got life-insurance money.”
His hand slipped to her back and he rubbed circles on her sweater. “A lot of couples fight. A lot of couples get divorced. Just because your husband died at the time you two were having trouble doesn’t make it your fault.”
“It felt like my fault, and the guilt drove me to extraordinary means to try to control my world.”
“But you worked your way out of it.”
She guffawed, half laugh, half sob. “That’s what you call working my way out of it? I’m buck naked with a hot guy who’s doing unbelievably hot things to my body and I’m trying to straighten a rug?”
“It’s not like you weren’t responding to those hot things I was doing to your body.” He chuckled softly in her ear, while his hand crept beneath her sweater and thermal top and flattened against her bare back.
“Because even if your mind was thinking about that ripple in the rug, your body was heating up under my fingers.” Those same fingers walked to the band of her snow pants and thermals and slipped inside to tease the upper curve of her buttocks.
“My lips.” He laid a path of kisses along her hairline.
“My tongue.” His tongue dipped into her ear.
“And my...” He made a slight turn in the chair to press against her thigh.
She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She should be thinking about Zendaris searching through the files on her laptop, but if J.D. could take a break from his spying to tickle her...fancy, she could take a break to savor his attentions.
“Sorry I took so long.”
Noelle opened one eye and even that took a Herculean effort as she tried to shake off the sweet languor that had invaded every cell of her body.
Tara had the good grace to sport two red spots on her cheeks for interrupting. “Or maybe I should’ve taken longer.”
J.D. recovered first, adjusting his position in the chair and crossing one booted ankle over his knee. “How’d it go with Sheriff Greavy? Were you able to give him a better description of the men?”
“No.” She collapsed in the chair recently vacated by J.D. “Honestly, all I remember is the gun pointing in my face. I could describe that in minute detail.”
“I’m so sorry, Tara.” Noelle had found her tongue after losing J.D.’s.
“You have no reason to be sorry. I should be apologizing to you since I couldn’t safeguard your laptop.”
“I can give you a ride back