Part 3 (1/2)

”Why?” Erin murmured.

Erin wished she hadn't asked.

The woman's voice came through as though she were standing in the room with Erin. ”Seth, you still love her. Don't tell me you don't. You can't.” Erin caught her breath, felt suddenly disoriented, and could, for a brief moment, smell him, that woodsy, hot male scent that was all Seth. She could feel his sorrow, his frustration, and his refusal to deny the truth, though that was what Eva wanted.

Lie, Seth, Erin wished softly. Lie.

She felt him jump, felt him search the room for her even though he knew she wasn't there, felt his awareness of her, and then Seth's certainty that he was losing his mind. She cursed herself and withdrew. That was the closest she had ever come to revealing to anybody besides her parents and the man who had taught her control, what she could do.

Seth stared at Eva's slim back as she walked out the door. She had woken not even an hour after he had left their bed, which had told him something was wrong. Eva was the type who only climbed out of bed when she absolutely had to, and then, she only talked after she'd gotten three cups of coffee in her. It was one thing they had in common. One of the few.

She hadn't let the tears he'd seen gleaming in her eyes fall, and he wished she had railed at him, kicked him, hit him, screamed at him. Done anything but be so sweet, so kind. So...well, Eva.

He prowled the room, searching for something to explain what he had felt. A jacket, a s.h.i.+rt. Anything. He had smelled Erin. He had felt her. He had heard her, for crying out loud. ”Lie, Seth. Lie.” Tell Eva that he wasn't still in love with Erin, was what she had been urging him to do.

He had heard her. And Erin wasn't there. He was going out of his f.u.c.king mind. And he had a raging, burning hard-on, the kind that only Erin had ever inspired. The kind that demanded he find her, f.u.c.k her, claim her, mark her.

And she wasn't here.

Flopping into the leather chair, he pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned, ”Porter, you are losing your mind.” He had to get it together. Had to. Eddie was going to plant a bug on Erin today, somehow. Without Erin knowing. They had a meeting with the f.u.c.king chief. And Eva had just figured out that he was marrying her to try to fill the hole Erin had left in his heart years ago.

Just figuring out, h.e.l.l.

She had always known. Maybe she had just figured she could heal him, or he'd get over it.

s.h.i.+t, Erin wasn't a cold. More like a cancer, he groused, shoving out of the chair and out the door for his morning run. He checked to make sure he had his phone with him. He didn't usually take it, but he had to be available if Erin needed to reach him.

d.a.m.n it, Erin. The incurable kind, the kind that eats and eats and eats away at you until it's taken everything inside of you.

The cool morning air felt good to his gritty eyes. He hadn't slept worth a d.a.m.n. His shoes slapped the concrete, the damp air filled his lungs, and his blood started to pump. Eva was leaving. She'd take some time after court to come back and get what she needed, and she'd come back this weekend to finish up. Seth wished he had known what to say to her, but he hadn't been able to say anything beyond, ”I'm sorry.”

Eva had laughed and said, ”Yeah, me, too.”

The bad thing was-he wasn't sorry. A f.u.c.king, fierce joy filled him and he knew exactly why as he ran faster, and harder, circling through the wooded trail, taking a path he hadn't taken in years. Erin. He cleared the trail that ended just shy of her house, nearly three miles from his, in just under thirty minutes, chest heaving, heart pounding. She sat curled up in her window seat, outlined by the light.

She still cared for him. She needed him. She wanted him. He even suspected she loved him, as much as he loved her. Seth didn't know why she had kept pus.h.i.+ng him away, but d.a.m.n it, he'd been a f.u.c.king fool to just walk away. He wasn't doing it again. Whether it was what they had discovered with her life being in danger, or with Eva calmly pointing out to him, ”Seth, it's as plain as daylight, you love her like you love to breathe. You can't stop,” he didn't know.

Now wasn't the time.

He wasn't so stupid that he didn't know that.

He wasn't going to accept his fiancee's ring back and run to his ex-lover and pound on her door until she let him in, so he could pound himself inside her until they both died from the pleasure of it. But he wasn't going to wait too long.

He walked over to the police car driven by the uniform he had a.s.signed to follow Erin and tapped the window. Lewis rolled the window down, red-faced at being caught in a daze. He had a half-empty mug of coffee, fresh brewed, if Seth's nose served him right. ”Have you bothered to call up to the Lieutenant and tell her exactly how visible she is?” Seth asked nonchalantly. He was pretty sure the kid had. Jake Lewis was young, but he was pretty sharp.

”I did, sir. Her response was, 'I know exactly how visible I am, and how visible you are, Lewis. If anybody is going try anything, I doubt they'll do it where you would have a front row seat to see it all.'”

Seth chuckled and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. ”Anything going on?”

”No, sir. She's been sitting there a while. Looked like she did some writing in a journal, or diary or something that she kept on that seat there. After that she's just been sitting there the past half an hour, drinking her coffee. Left for about fifteen minutes, and ah, brought me some coffee after I called her.”

Seth ran his tongue over his teeth. He wouldn't mind some coffee. Wouldn't mind at least stirring Erin up a little. Then he laughed and wondered if it was possible.

She met him at the door, dressed in a sleeveless vest-styled s.h.i.+rt the color of the inside of a sea sh.e.l.l, a soft pale-pink, and tan pants, looking soft and cool and feminine. Nothing like a cop, Seth mused. In her hand, she had a cup of coffee that she held out to him with an arched brow and a bland look. ”Are you going to run over here every morning to check on the uniforms, Seth?” she asked as he took the coffee.

He drank half of it down even though he was still hot from the run. The caffeine went singing through his system, even as the sight and scent of her went singing through his soul. d.a.m.n it, she was beautiful. He crowded her at the door until she stepped back with a sigh, sweeping her arm wide, and drawled ”Come on in, Seth. Make yourself at home, why don't you?”

The bland little condo looked exactly as it had the last time he had seen it, when he had walked out years earlier, his heart still pounding, his c.o.c.k still wet from the clasp of her satin sheath. It didn't seem to fit her, anymore now than it had then. Too impersonal, too bland, too cold. Which, he thought irritably, should have suited Erin to a T. But he always had the oddest feeling she was keeping herself from settling in, keeping herself from, well, nesting.

There were no pictures on the walls, very few knickknacks, nothing that said, This is home. h.e.l.l, he was a man, and he had done more decorating in his house than she had done in hers. He started to wander through the condo, while she watched him with blank eyes.

”Is there something you need, Seth?” she asked.

Not, ”Is there something I can do for you” or ”Do you want anything?” The answer to one of those questions was too likely to get her in trouble, and Seth slid her a small smile at her wording. But she still wasn't careful enough. He paused in his search of her condo to cup her cheek in his hand, staring into her soft, pale-blue eyes, stroking his rough thumb over the velvety surface of her full lower lip. ”I need a whole world of things, Erin,” he murmured. Then, before he could do something he knew it wasn't time for, he pulled his hand away and went back to pacing her home.

He had been wrong.

She had one picture.

Over her bed, there was a large framed piece of art that he had bought her only three weeks after they had started dating, and he had felt like a f.u.c.king moron for doing it. The lovely, long cool blonde had shown nothing more than an almost amused interest in him and he was buying her a painting of a nude faerie in profile, arms up, eyes half closed, her long blonde hair tumbling between her wings to spill down her naked back. Her small rounded b.r.e.a.s.t.s were lifted up, her pink lips parted. The faerie bore an uncanny resemblance to Erin, which was why he had bought it. He had seen it from across the street while out of town at a conference and had spent a freaking arm and leg on it, and nearly a kidney having the d.a.m.n thing framed.

When she had unwrapped it, there had been tears in her eyes and she had thrown herself at him, her slender, strong arms going around his neck, her lips seeking his, her tongue thrusting eagerly into his mouth. They had made love the first time that day.

She had kept the painting.

He turned to study her, absently rubbing his stubbled chin, wondering if he had actually seen a flash of nerves in her eyes. ”You kept it,” he said quietly.

If there had been nerves, any and all signs were gone as she replied with a faint smile, ”Why not? It's a lovely piece of art. Not every woman is able to look back at something a past lover gave her, and see herself.” She glanced at the slim gold watch on her wrist and said, ”It's getting a bit late. Don't you think you should finish up your run?”

”Hmm. I was going to b.u.m a ride off you and have you wait while I shower,” he answered, almost absently, turning back to study the painting. The sweat had dried uncomfortably on his body and he had already cooled down too much to run back anyway.

”Really,” came her flat reply.

”Yeah. My car's in the shop and Eddie won't be in until late. Eva was going to take me in but...well, she had to go in early,” he said. He turned and was walking out the door. He caught sight of a cloth bound book peeking out from under the cus.h.i.+oned window seat. The journal. If it wasn't for that and the painting, this could have been a f.u.c.king hotel room.

”Well, then. We had better get going,” Erin said.

He heard the soft, faint sigh.

She took a folded jacket from the couch after she had slid her shoulder harness on. The jacket draped so smoothly, so femininely, the line of the gun never even showed. ”Are you carrying an extra piece?” he asked suddenly.

”Yes,” she responded.

He moved up behind her, unable to resist and rested his hand on her shoulder. The soft, sweet scent of her teased him, and Seth knew he couldn't stay away much longer. It had been too long already. ”I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered harshly.