Part 13 (2/2)

Taige tried to jerk away, and he wouldn't let her. ”You had the dreams, too, didn't you?”

he demanded.

Her voice shook as she reached up with one hand to jerk on his wrist, trying to break his hold. ”Let go of me.”

Slowly, he shook his head. ”You have,” he whispered, dismay spreading through him.

Dismay-and something else. She'd always held herself apart from him in those dreams.

But through those dreams, he'd gotten to know her, gotten to know the woman she had become. She was pulling away from him not because she was angry at him or because she didn't want anything to do with him.

She pulled back because she stil loved him.

She hadn't ever stopped. That knowledge hit his system with the equivalent of an electric charge, setting his blood on fire and making him itch to touch her, to pull her close and cover her trembling mouth with his. He leaned in, desperate to kiss her-for real, this time, not just through some dream connection. As hot, as powerful as those dreams had seemed to him, it wasn't the same as really touching her.

Slowly, he slanted his mouth over hers, using his grip on her hair to angle her head up and back. He didn't close his eyes; after this long, he wanted to see her, wanted to see if he affected her the same way she still affected him. Her lashes fluttered over her eyes, and she moaned into his mouth, a hungry, kittenish sound. Slowly, he pushed his tongue into her mouth and gorged on the taste of her. Too d.a.m.n long, he thought distantly.

G.o.d . . . Taige . . .

He wished they were someplace else-wished things were different so he could have the time to hold her the way he wanted, time to strip her naked and make love to her, over and over, until the ache inside him eased. Until he'd erased the pain from her eyes, and, maybe, magically undone the damage he'd done to her all those years ago.

But instead, he pulled away, slowly, his lips lingering on hers until he had to either step back or lose control.

He pushed a hand through his hair and swore, his voice shaking. ”d.a.m.n it, Taige.”

She swallowed. He could see her throat working as she did it, and then she licked her lips, her lids drooping as though his taste affected her, just like her taste was enough to turn him into a raving lunatic. ”What are we going to do about this?” he asked, his voice quiet but intense. He stared at her, waiting for her to look at him.

But instead, she turned away. Walked away. She reached the door, and without looking back at him, she said softly, ”Nothing, Cul en. There's nothing to do.” She started to open it, and then she stopped.

She did look at him this time. One quick glance. ”Jones is going to try to get your daughter.”

Startled, Cullen repeated blankly, ”Get?”

Taige nodded. ”He came looking for me in college. He's recruited some kids straight out of high school, and I've heard rumors that the FBI finds some kids even younger than Jillian and watches them, waits for them to grow up, grabs them for their specialized units.”

”You mean . . .” Cullen glanced at his daughter, and then he glanced at Taige's battered face. Oh, h.e.l.l, no.

”You know what I mean,” she said softly. Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile as she said, ”Jillian has this amazing gift. Jones expects a person with a gift to use it.”

In his mind, he heard the words he'd hurled at her that day. You have this amazing gift.

But you hide from it, don't you? You hide yourself, and screw the people you could help.

Yeah, she'd hidden some. But he'd had no right to expect more than she already gave.

He hadn't understood the h.e.l.l she lived with until he saw his daughter going through it.

Slowly, he shook his head. ”I don't want that for her. I don't want her forced into a position where she's used as some kind of tool.” Like what I did to you, he thought silently. ”If she makes the choice, then it's hers, but I won't let him force it on her.”

Taige c.o.c.ked a brow and said, ”Then you'd better make sure you keep him away from her. He'll have to talk to her about this, about his case. But after that's done, keep him away from her. Right now, you can. She's just a child, and you're there to protect her.” Her eyes darkened, and her voice fell to a soft whisper as she added, ”She deserves to be a child, Cullen. Don't let anybody take that away from her.”

She jerked the door open and paused once more, looking back at him. ”And stay the h.e.l.l out of my dreams.”

EIGHT.

”DIDN'T I tell you to stay out of my dreams?”

Taige glared at Cullen, her arms crossed over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He glanced around and shrugged. ”Easier said than done. That's a.s.suming I wanted to stay out of your dreams.” He closed the distance between them and touched his fingers to her lips. ”This is the only way I can be with you. The only way you'll let me. You won't cal me back. You returned the letters I sent you. I tried to send you flowers, and you wouldn't accept them.”

He dipped his head, kissing her quick and light before she could move away. ”So for now, this is al I can do.”

Turning her head, she stomped toward the house. She didn't know why she bothered; she knew she was dreaming and knew that when she opened her eyes, she'd be lying on the beach towel where she'd fallen asleep. h.e.l.l, the way her luck was going, she'd wake up as red as a d.a.m.n lobster.

”What in the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean . . . for now?” she asked as he fel into step beside her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug. ”Just that. Sooner or later, Jillian and I are going to get back to our life. Sooner or later, I'm going to stop hiding her away. When that time comes, I'm going to show up on your doorstep.” He reached out and caught her hand, forcing her to stop. ”And when that happens, you're going to have to let me in.

You're going to have to deal with me.”

Pus.h.i.+ng her hair back from her face, she sneered. ”I already have dealt with you, Cullen. There's no d.a.m.n reason for you to come down here. You said your thanks. Your daughter is safe. Go live your life, and let me live mine.”

A grin canted up the corners of his mouth, and he whispered, ”Life? That's exactly why I'm counting the days until I come back for you, Taige. You are my life.”

He moved closer, close enough that if she leaned forward, their bodies would be touching. She held herself still, completely still, even though everything inside her yearned for him. It should have been so easy to reach out to him, so easy, but it wasn't, even when she had thought he was little more than a figment of her lonely imagination. Now that she knew these were a little more than the average dreams, it made it that much harder to give in.

Staring into his clear blue green eyes, she held his gaze and then took a slow, deliberate step back. ”I'm not your life, Cul en. I never was.”

A faint grin curled his lips upward, and he reached up, caught a wayward curl, and tucked it behind her ear. ”I miss your braids,” he said softly. Then he skimmed a finger over the soft, delicate skin under her left eye. ”The swelling's gone.”

She gave him a sardonic smile. ”Been a month. It ought to get better.”

Cullen shrugged restlessly. ”A month? Yeah. I guess. Seems longer-and not. I see your face almost every time I close my eyes. And I see that bruise some b.a.s.t.a.r.d left on your face.” He caught her right hand and lifted it, staring at her wrist, finally out of the soft cast. ”And I can't help but think how many times I've dreamed about you and seen marks on your body.”

Taige saw his gaze slide over her body, linger low on her torso. Stiffening, she pul ed away, but she didn't move fast enough. He caught her in his arms and pulled her against him, turning her so he could lay his hand on the scar from the bullet that had ripped through her abdomen a few years ago. ”I remember dreaming about you in the hospital. I thought it was just a nightmare. That's all I wanted it to be, but it wasn't a nightmare; you were shot.”

Closing her eyes, she tried not to let his nearness affect her. It was like swimming upstream-up a stream that had long since flooded its bank-and although she was strong, the current was pulling her along, and she had no choice but to go with it and hope she didn't go under in the process. He was pul ing her under, pulling her in, and she was powerless to resist. Against her back, she felt the heat and strength of his body, the slow, steady cadence of his heart, and his breath drifted over her naked shoulders like a caress. When she'd left the house earlier, she'd pulled on a plain black tank suit, and the thin material did nothing to camouflage the effect he had on her. Although he hadn't done anything more than cover the bullet scar with his hand, her nipples were stiff peaks, stabbing into the thin material of her swimsuit.

”You were shot,” he murmured, as though he was unaware of the effect he had on her.

”Because of what you are, what you do. What I forced you into.”

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