Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

start his own life downtown, with his security protection business. It had been the right move for him but he still had nostalgia for this house. It meant a lot to him to have Dominique here, whether forever or just tonight.

Stick to thinking it’s only tonight, bud. Far safer.

“I’ll get it going in about twenty minutes. It won’t take long.” She stood and stretched. “I’d love a walk on the deck and yard, down to the steps. Do I have your permission to go?”

She stood with the glittering lake as a backdrop, the trees on either side budding, the small new leaves appearing like little golden green birds on the branches. Dominique faced him, her skin flushed over her cheeks, making the sparkles in her obsidian eyes look like diamonds. Her persimmon-red lips were slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her white teeth. Unable to keep his gaze on her face alone, he took in her full breasts, her small waist, the enticing flare of her hips.

When he looked back up into her eyes, they’d narrowed. But not in displeasure or disgust. Dominique knew what he wanted, and she wanted it, too. But one thing about her he’d never forgotten was how she had a love-hate relationship with seduction. So often she’d stop their flirting, the tug and release of tension, by kissing him deeply, her tongue communicating their mutual need in a most effective manner.

If he was going to follow through with his desire and leave here with his heart intact, he had to remember to keep his cool. Take it slow. To remember that what drove them apart two years ago hadn’t changed. Dominique was all about her career, and he couldn’t be married to someone he had to worry about each and every second of every day. It was what kept him from succumbing to his baser desire, which would have already found him hauling her over his shoulder and taking her back to his bedroom, sore arm be damned.

“Stanton? Can I go outside?”

“Sorry. I’m a little tired after all the shootout drama.” He made it a point to shrug as if he hadn’t just made love to her with his eyes. “Sure, you’re safe out here. The security cameras are all working and I’ll see you the whole time. Stay up here, though—no wandering down to the beach. The tide’s high and a storm is brewing.”

“There isn’t time for that. We still need to eat. I won’t be long.” She grabbed the blanket off the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. At the door, he saw her face reflected in the glass right before she slid open the door and stepped into the night. The confusion and, if he were lucky, disappointment on her expression allowed him to hold back and not follow her, warm her with his kisses in the chilly spring evening.

* * *

The night sky was visible through the trees and above the lake. Dominique shivered against the cold and wrapped the blanket tighter. Disappointment swam in her gut, but it wasn’t because Stanton hadn’t followed her, or asked her to stay inside longer. Or to sit next to him. Or to kiss him again.

Face it. The words he’d murmured in her ear in Troy’s GGPD office had been nothing more than whispers in the heat of the moment. Even if he’d meant them, that was before he’d been shot. He’d had plenty of time to remember why they were spending so much time together, that it had nothing to do with intention on either of their parts. It was a job for him, and a means to an end for her.

In truth they’d never wanted the same thing, had they? Stanton wanted a woman to spend his life with, one without such a risky job. Not all of her stories involved dangerous situations, but enough of them did. Too many for Stanton. And even if she’d rethought her desire to put off having children, it wouldn’t be enough for Stanton. She’d always know he was worried about her, and she’d be frightened every time the phone rang at odd hours when he was out on a protection contract.

She looked up at the stars, remembering again how much she loved this vantage point. Frank and Italia had left the back patio lanterns as motion detectors, timed only for after they retired for the evening, so that they could come out here and see the stars with minimal light pollution. Stanton’s parents had lived a dream romance, staying together for over forty years, raising four incredible children, and contributing to the community in a real way. Both donated their time and talents often. Italia’s art was a familiar sight at local charity auctions, and Frank’s shipping company, at which he was an executive, provided scholarship funds to Grave Gulch High School graduates. Italia’s charity work had inspired Dominique to volunteer at the Grave Gulch prison, teaching her creative writing class, right after the breakup.

Dominique knew Frank and Italia’s relationship had had its ups and downs; Italia had been quick to tell her that during one of the many weekends she’d spent out here with Stanton. As if Stanton’s mother wanted to convey that Dominique shouldn’t expect life with her son to always be perfect.

A stab of regret melded with realization. Had she been so focused on perfection—in her job, her relationship with Stanton—that she’d missed out on what mattered? Had she overlooked what Italia had tried to tell her? Soledad had warned her to not throw out the baby with the bathwater, but she’d thought her twin was more concerned about her settling down than anything else. And she’d thought she’d find someone else who wouldn’t pressure her into marriage so soon. Stanton’s proposal had seemed impetuous and innocent enough, but she knew him, knew his family. Children and a lot of sacrifices she wasn’t willing to make were part of the deal. Weren’t they?

She shook her head and closed her eyes, gave