She points to the sink. “Y-you should keep rinsing them. I’m not certain what adverse effects the medication may have on your delicate skin—”
“I don’t have delicate skin. But you already know that.” I clasp her shoulders and pull her to me, kissing her softly, holding her gently, allowing her the opportunity to break away.
But she doesn’t.
Her hands travel across my forearms to carefully hold my wrists, surrendering to my tongue as it circles hers. It’s one of those kisses girls talk to death about: slow, delicate, unremitting, the kind of kiss that lasts all day and ends after hours in bed.
My lips linger over hers until I pull back and leave her mouth completely. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” I whisper.
She lowers her chin when I release her. “You seemed occupied.”
“Yeah. I was.”
She looks at me then with enough sadness in her expression to tighten my gut. “I take it the testimony on behalf of your friend was this week?”
I almost don’t answer. But she saw me in court, so there’s no denying it now. “That’s right.”
“It must have been difficult,” she says, quietly.
I tighten my jaw and stay silent.
“And stressful, I’m sure,” she adds.
My mouth remains shut. I know she’s trying to get me to talk, but I can’t give her what she wants.
Still she waits, and for a long time doesn’t move. Finally, when she realizes I’m not going to open up, she says, “If I’d known, I would have been there.”
When I do nothing more than breathe, she inches away and returns to where the first aid kit is teetering on the edge of Declan’s desk.
“I didn’t want you there,” I admit. Her back stiffens. “I didn’t want anyone there.”
She shuts the lid to the kit. “I see.”
“No you don’t.”
I don’t miss the hurt in her voice, despite how quietly she speaks. “I would if you’d just let me.”
Maybe she’s right. But I don’t tell her that.
She lifts the box and heads for the door, reaching for the handle.
“I should’ve called,” I repeat. I’m trying to keep her here, but when her shattered expression meets mine, I know it’s too late.
She turns just enough to meet me square in the eye. “Don’t bother. I told you, I have enough wrong in my life.”
Chapter 13
Tess
I don’t see Curran for the remainder of the week. But what did I expect? He didn’t follow when I left Declan’s office, nor did he try to stop me from leaving. I told him not to call me, but it’s not because I didn’t want him to. It’s because I’m not sure he ever will.
And it hurts.
Curran adds color to my world. Loud, bold, obnoxious color mixed with arrogance and often disturbing references, but color nonetheless.
He’s also a really great kisser.
Among other things.
Dear Lord, that tongue.
Declan laughs. “What are you smiling about, Contessa?”
I pass him a criminal file and reach for another one, hoping to give my cheeks a moment to cool. “I’m just happy your hard work is paying off, and that we’re getting closer to justice being served.”
Okay. I might have laid that on a little thick.
To my relief, he nods as he flips through the file, one of many he’ll be reading this weekend. “Snagging the mistress and finding all that evidence was our big break,” he agrees. “Can’t believe all the crap the search and seizure turned up. I owe Curran big-time.”
I fix the loose pages dangling from the next folder, trying to keep my tone light. “How is Officer O’Brien? He hasn’t been assigned to guard me lately.”