Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Carol Ericson (short books to read TXT) 📖

tugged at one corner of Dylan’s mouth as he stepped into the room. He unfastened his holster from his belt and set it on the end table. The couch dipped beneath his weight as he took up position beside her. Connected shoulder to hip, his proximity released a string of heat through her she’d denied existed these past six months. Until now. “How’s the head?”

“Better than the stab wound.” She arched her elbow over the back of the couch and turned into him. Suddenly the thin, oversize shirt and running shorts she’d donned after her shower left her lacking for a layer of physical protection between them. It left her feeling exposed, vulnerable, but if there was one thing in this psychotic mind game the killer had started she could count on, it was Dylan’s integrity. He wouldn’t hurt her.

She studied the shift of shadows down his face brought on by the television screen. Thick, dark hair curved along the angles of his jawline in perfect precision, and her skin tingled at the memory of his beard brushing against her chin and cheeks. “And the bullet hole in your side?”

He turned that compelling gaze onto her. “Medium-rare.”

“You save lives. You know your way around a kitchen. You keep people awake so they don’t die in their sleep.” She lowered her hand to the back of his head and ran her fingers over his neck and shoulders. “I’m starting to think you should be the one wearing one of Reed’s superhero T-shirts.”

“Not people, Sheriff,” he said. “Just you.”

Her heart rate sped up, which she wasn’t sure was a good thing considering the amount of force it’d taken to knock her unconscious. Remi slowed the trail she traced back and forth across his shoulder. “Why?”

“Why?” His expression matched the color of his eyes. Pure steel.

“You’re one of the most stubborn, critical and idealistic investigators I’ve ever worked with. You keep to yourself, only speak when spoken to and you’ve made it a point to keep your distance between you and every one of your teammates in my division. Everyone except me.” Her mouth dried as something inside reached for the hope she’d stashed at the back of her mind. “Why do you make an effort with me and no one else?”

Seconds passed, maybe a minute, and that same bit of hope she’d ignored all these years nearly suffocated her.

“I’ve spent most of my life getting lied to in one form or another. Before I became a private investigator and came to work with you on the New Castle Killer case, I’d lived in almost every state in the country by the time I was fifteen years old.” Dylan directed his attention to the TV screen, his gaze distant. “My parents divorced when I was three, after my father found a letter from my mom at the top of her closet detailing how she was going to leave him. He confronted her about it. I remember a lot of screaming and the police showing up at our house. I was crying. I didn’t know what was happening. But when it was over, my mother packed our bags and we got in the car. We never stopped driving. Not longer than a few months at a time. Whenever I asked her why I couldn’t see my dad or why I had to change schools again, her answer was the same. ‘So he can’t find us.’”

A pit solidified in her stomach. “He was abusive?”

“That’s the kicker. He never laid a hand on us. Turned out, she’d only wanted to leave him because of an affair she’d been having with one of the officers who’d come to the house that day. She lied to me about it for almost twenty years, tried to make me believe my father was the villain. That their marriage ended because of his selfishness and not hers.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “She turned me against him, manipulated me to keep me under her control, and by the time I realized what’d happened, it was too late.”

This wasn’t the man who’d claimed her mouth with wild abandonment less than an hour ago. This wasn’t the marshal she’d hired, or the private investigator she’d asked for help. All of that had been stripped away in an instant. All that was left was Dylan.

He faced her again, strong hands drawing her legs across his lap, and in that moment, she felt...herself. Not the chief deputy marshal she was supposed to be. It was him and her. No titles. No rules. Bare and exposed. She automatically reached for that emotional protection, the one thing she could use to reject others before they rejected her, but after what’d happened in those caves, she couldn’t find it. There was nothing left.

“You’re the only one who’s never lied to me.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her split lip. The salt from his fingers burned, but she didn’t pull away. The resulting sting meant she was still here, still alive. He cocked his head to one side as another smile wiped the rigidity from his expression. “Well, at least not when it came to anything but your own well-being. Your honesty helps fight all the lies people have told me over the years, and being here with you... I’d give anything to hold on to this feeling of peace a little longer.” He framed her jaw and pressed his forehead to hers as though he intended never to let her go. “I consider you exceptional, Remi. So I make an exceptional effort to be what you need me to be. Because you deserve nothing less.”

“I don’t deserve your admiration.” Her exhale mixed with his in rapid bursts before Remi pulled away. Heat from his palm tunneled through bruised flesh, igniting the incessant need for her to be good enough, strong enough, to face the truth. He was more than the private investigator she’d hired in Delaware. He was more than the deputy she’d made part