She melted into him. Became part of him. Let him in further. He lifted his head, his amazing eyes glittering down at her, and there was no mistaking the stamp of possession on his face.
“You can’t leave, Catarina. We’ll figure this out. I know you’re tired and you’re scared, but we’ll find a way. There’s always a way. I want you here, not on the run where I’d worry every minute of every day whether or not you were alive or safe.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m asking you to wait a day or two, let me try to figure something out so I don’t lose you.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him, try to make him see reason when she couldn’t explain Rafe Cordeau to him. She couldn’t mention his name. A man like Ridley would go head-to-head with Rafe, and Ridley would lose. She wasn’t losing him. Not like that.
She snuggled into Ridley’s warmth so she wouldn’t have to lie to him. He was adept at reading lies, and she wanted him to think she’d wait.
“You’re a pretty good kisser, Ridley,” she said, touching her fingers to her lips. “Just in case none of your many women failed to mention that to you.”
She felt him relax. He thought he’d won. The tension went out of all that corded muscle. “Baby, if I’m your first kiss, how would you know?”
Amusement tinged the velvet smooth of his voice. Affection. She let it wash over and into her, pulling the memory into a secret part of herself she would hold on to forever.
“I know,” she said firmly.
He shifted her to the bed. She curled onto her side and was a little surprised when he stretched out beside her. He seemed to take up the entire bed. It was only a twin and he scooted her over to the edge, laid back and then tucked her into his side. His hands slid up behind his head, as if he couldn’t trust himself not to touch her.
“Your bed’s too small.”
“I fit in it,” she was compelled to point out.
“Yeah, Kitten, I know. But it’s not big enough. When we get to the point where I’m staying here and you’re staying at my place, we’ll need a bigger bed.”
She closed her eyes, wishing there was that possibility, knowing she’d never have another time of sharing a bed with him. She wanted to savor every second.
“Okay.” That was the best she could do. Even then her voice shook.
Ridley shifted position again, turning on his side, sliding one hand around her waist to pull her into him, and then he settled his hand, fingers splayed wide, on the strip of bare skin not covered by her tank. She felt his palm and every one of his fingers like a burning brand. Her breath hitched in her lungs. Her throat felt raw. She closed her eyes to keep any burning at bay.
She wanted nothing to spoil this moment for her, not even the knowledge that she would never see him again. She let herself have her fantasy. She belonged to Ridley Cromer and he was madly in love with her.
“Don’t go to sleep on me yet, baby,” Ridley said softly. His hand began to move in slow circles on her belly. “I want to make certain you understand where this is going.”
She turned her head and looked at him. His eyes were strange. Different. He had the same focused stare that made her feel as if she were the only person on the planet. The only one on his radar. Still, his eyes were different. The irises were wholly gold. They even glowed a little as if his night vision was every bit as good as hers.
“I don’t understand.”
“This man you’re running from. The cops. They have nothing to do with you and me. Whatever happens, Kitten, it’s still you and me. We’ll find our way through it all together. I have no problem going with you to the police. I can find you a good lawyer. I don’t care what it takes, Cat, I’m not losing you over this.”
She swallowed hard and turned her face away from him. His hand moved to her chin and he turned her face back.
“I mean it, Catarina. I know you think whoever this man is that won’t get out of your life is bad. Invincible. But you only know my sweet side. You deserve sweet so I give it to you, but that’s not who I am. Look at me, baby. Really look at me. I have scars for a reason.”
Her gaze slid over his face. She’d memorized it of course. Every line. The little laugh lines around his eyes. The scars that only served to make him all the more handsome to her. He had a man’s face, not a boy’s. Even when his eyes went soft, his face was hard, carved of stone. He had a strong jaw and always a bit of scruff, as if no matter how often he shaved, his hair insisted on growing.
“I’m not sweet and gentle with anyone else, and I never will be. I can get this man out of your life, but you’ve got to let me in so I can do my job.”