Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,30

that would be happening.

THEIR BED AND breakfast was filled with antique furniture, heavy and dark. Victoria and Wade had been given a cottage to share—­one in the very back of the historic Savannah property. One that promised them the utmost privacy. There were two bedrooms in that little cottage. One bathroom. A kitchen and even a den area.

So why did the space seem so incredibly small?

It was just after midnight before Victoria and Wade made it back to the cottage. They’d returned to the police station. Talked more with Dace. The detective had promised to retrieve traffic cameras from the area around Vintage. Hopefully, the cops would find a shot of the Jag on those cameras. Maybe an image of Melissa and the mystery man who’d been with her.

But the day had ended, and Melissa still hadn’t come home.

And as for Kennedy . . .

Her five-­year anniversary had passed. Vanished, gone without a trace. Victoria rubbed her arms as she paced toward the large stone fireplace. The fireplace wasn’t lit. It wasn’t cold at all in the room. Victoria’s chill came from inside of her.

Life moved on and just left Kennedy behind.

Wade’s footsteps sounded behind her. He had a heavy tread as he moved across the gleaming hardwood floor. She glanced back at him. Now that they were in the cottage, she was on edge. Actually, she seemed to constantly be on edge with him.

This Irish is taken.

His words kept ringing through her head. They weren’t supposed to have ties between them. She wouldn’t let herself have any ties with him.

Possessiveness, jealousy—­obsession. No, that wasn’t going to happen with her.

Wade lifted a brow and his golden eyes gleamed. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

She immediately shook her head in denial. “I’m not.”

“Liar,” he accused. “You think I can’t read you?”

Dear God, I hope you can’t.

“It’s because I got all pissed that the bouncer was flirting with you, right? You didn’t like that.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Am I supposed to apologize because I didn’t like the way he was looking at you? ’Cause that’s not happening. The asshole was lucky I didn’t take a swing at him.”

Victoria shook her head. “No, this is wrong. This isn’t . . . you.” He was the ex-­cop. The good guy. He was supposed to be safe.

But Wade gave a low, rough laugh. One that sent a shiver over her. One that made her think of darkness and tangled sheets. Sex and pleasure. “It isn’t?” His head cocked. “And just who is the real Victoria? The smart and reserved lady in glasses who pulls her hair back? Or the woman who puts on the short skirt and goes looking for a night of fun?”

She licked her lower lip. “They’re both me.”

He nodded. And his hand rose, his knuckles sliding over her cheek. She had to resist the urge to lean into him.

“And the jealous lover? The one who doesn’t want anyone so much as looking at you?”

She flinched at his words.

His hands dropped. “That was me. Ex-­cop, jealous lover—­all me.”

“W-­We have a case to work here.” She backed away from him. Fast.

But this time he followed her. He caged her between the wall and his body. Wade didn’t touch her, though, just trapped her there. “I hate it when you do that,” he said.

The pounding of her heartbeat filled her ears. A desperate drumming that seemed to shake her entire body.

“You don’t need to back away from me. I might be a tough asshole, but I swear, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Her breath felt cold as she pulled it into her lungs. Very carefully, his hands rose and he took off her glasses. She blinked, staring up at him as he put the glasses down on the nearby table. His body kept surrounding hers. Trapping her.

“Did another lover hurt you, Viki? Is that why you pull back from me?”

“No.” A lover had never hurt her. “I’m always careful.”

As soon as she said the words, she realized they were a mistake.

“Careful?” Wade pounced on that one word. “How so?”

I don’t pick lovers who can hurt me. I don’t look for ties. It’s just sex. Pleasure. Bodies in the dark. Because anything more than that was dangerous. Anything more would be positively lethal.

Not just to her . . .

I won’t be like him.

“I’m tired,” Victoria said softly. “I’m going to bed.”

But he didn’t move back.

“I can see it,” Wade said, his voice just as soft as hers