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

an investigator for him to hope she’d let this go. He took a step forward, then another, his gaze level with hers. “I want you, Remi. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and when that son of a bitch pointed his weapon at me, I knew not even a bullet was going to stop me from getting to you. Nothing would. You walked into my life because you were meant to be there, and I’m not ready to let you go.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A quick hard thump in her chest was the only evidence she hadn’t dreamed the conversation between her and Dylan. He wanted her. No hesitation. No mind games. Every aspect she’d fantasized about having after her entire family had been ripped from her in the flash of a faulty electrical outlet stood in front of her. But the sinking sensation of doubt kept her from accepting it as truth. No matter how many times she’d tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn’t change the fact Dylan Cove was tied to a past she’d tried to forget, a past she’d run from.

A combination of shame, guilt and the hefty burden of responsibility flooded through her. Dozens of family members had been counting on her to find the man who’d killed their loved ones. She’d let them all down. The people of New Castle County had made certain she’d paid the price for it, but the only way she’d been able to lead the Oregon division of US Marshals was to pretend losing her position as New Castle’s sheriff hadn’t affected her. Pretend that losing the job that was supposed to help her protect the people she’d served—to make up for not being able to protect her family—hadn’t nearly killed her.

And Dylan... She cleared her throat. Dylan was a clear reminder she hadn’t been good enough, that she might never be good enough. He hadn’t realized it yet, but just as the citizens of New Castle had learned, it was only a matter of time before she disappointed him, too.

Remi took a deep breath, stretching the stitches in her side. “I need to check in with the ME concerning Howe’s autopsy. With any luck, there’s something there that might be able to tie us to which of his victims killed him.”

Acceptance bled into the lines around his eyes, and her heart squeezed inside her chest. He wasn’t going to push her on this. His tongue darted between his lips, resurrecting a flare of awareness in her lower abdominals. Ridges and valleys flexed across his midsection as he searched the bedroom floor. “I’ll get dressed and get us some coffee. I can start going through the family background checks again as soon as I’m caffeinated.”

“Good idea.” Remi turned, heading for the bedroom door. She had to focus on the case, had to stop a killer from exacting his revenge.

“You can’t run forever, Sheriff,” he said, and she leaned her weight against the closed bathroom door, hand on the knob. “Sooner or later, you’re going to realize you deserve to move on from what happened in Delaware, and when you do, I’ll be there. Waiting.”

She turned the doorknob and fell inside the modern, renovated bathroom. Instant exhaustion claimed the muscles in her legs. Remi closed the door behind her before she sank to the cold penny tile. A long vanity with white cabinetry and matching granite led to a large glass shower at the other end of the room.

The subtle hint of Dylan’s aftershave tickled the back of her throat as she begged the last remnants of energy in her body to be enough to get her across the tile, but he’d been right. There was always a point where her body wouldn’t play by her rules anymore. She’d been able to push herself this long, but time had finally run out. She couldn’t go any farther. She’d lost too much blood, used too much adrenaline and had hit her head too hard. She had nothing left to give to this case or to Dylan. She battled to keep her eyes open, barely aware of the brush of cool air along her legs.

She heard footsteps, then rushing water, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Strong, familiar arms threaded under the backs of her knees and lifted her against a wall of bare muscle.

“I’ve got you, Sheriff.” His voice soothed the aches, the pain, the fear. Dylan. “You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met in my life, but no matter how many times you deny there’s more between us than a professional relationship, I know the truth. I can feel it, and I know you do, too. Otherwise, I think you would’ve already tried to shoot me for coming in here.”

Cold raced along the bottoms of her feet as he righted her and tightened his grip around her waist to hold her against him. Tearing fabric reached her ears before warm steam caressed her skin. He’d ripped her shirt from her body, finishing the job he’d started last night. Her running shorts pooled at her ankles, and he maneuvered her beneath the warm shower spray.

“Come on, Remi. Hold on to me.” He hauled her arms over his shoulders, not letting her go for a second.

She’d been too tired, too...broken to make it on her own, but he’d gotten her the rest of the way. Dylan slid his arms around her, her head resting against his shoulder. Prickling heat pounded into her back. He trailed casual circles between her shoulder blades, and she summoned the energy to cling to him as much as she could. She wouldn’t have made it out of that damn cave without him, wouldn’t have been able to work this case without him by her side. He’d believed her when she’d said she hadn’t killed Del Howe, and that counted for more than she could ever admit. The isolated, critical deputy trusted her. He made an effort with her. He cared about her. And she... Damn it.