24

“I understand fully,” Savannah said.

Because it was so obvious: John wanted as little to do with her as possible, because he regretted sleeping with her. And if she were smart, she wouldn’t bring the subject up, but she couldn’t bear that this tension between them might impede the investigation.

“I’m sorry, John. I know you regret having slept with me.”

He spun his head in her direction. “Regret?”

She didn’t want to look at him and stared out the window instead. “Yes, please don’t pretend it’s otherwise.” She tried to find the right words to continue. “We’re adults. And just because one of us wanted something and dragged the other into it, doesn’t mean it has to continue. I don’t expect anything from you. I’m not going to hold it against you that you did what most men do when a woman comes on to them.”

“You came on to me?”

She couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or not, but it didn’t matter. Her pride was long gone. All she wanted was a clean slate between them. “First, when I offered you my body for helping me. You can’t have forgotten that. And then, after you rescued me, I practically threw myself into your arms. I don’t blame you for…for—”

“—for giving into temptation?”

She shrugged. “If you want to call it that. In any case, I see now that you don’t want anything further, and that’s fine. I’m not going to tempt you again.” As much as she longed for his arms again, for the comfort they gave her, the strength they lent her.

“I don’t think that’ll work, Savannah,” John said.

She spun her head to him. “Please, John, I promise.”

John suddenly slowed the car and pulled to the curb, where he stopped. Then he turned sideways in his seat and stared at her. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

Alarmed by the odd tone in his voice and the fact that he’d stopped the car, she asked, “What are you saying? That you’re giving the case to somebody else?” Her heart was thundering now.

John let out a deep sigh and ran one hand through his hair, pushing the long strands back behind his shoulder. “What I’m saying is that no matter what you do, no matter how you behave around me, I’ll always be tempted. I’m tempted right now.”

The words slammed into her like a freight train coming out of nowhere.

“But I can’t allow myself to act on it again. Don’t you see that? You were vulnerable, and I took advantage of you. And instead of being gentle with you, I fucked you like an animal. I used you for my own pleasure, when I knew you didn’t really want me. You went along because of the situation you were in. You’d gone through a horrible experience, and you needed comfort. And instead of giving you comfort, instead of reassuring you, I fucked you.”

His confession stunned her into silence. Did he really believe that he’d taken advantage of her?

“Now you know. You should stay away from me, for your own good. I can’t trust myself with you. If I take you to my house, if I let you stay there, I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again. It’s been too long since I’ve…” He stopped himself. “You don’t need somebody like me. And you know it deep down. I could sense it afterwards. After we had sex. You couldn’t even look at me.”

Her heart beat into her throat. John was afraid of hurting her. He thought that he was imposing himself on her. That she hadn’t acted upon her own free will. That he’d steamrolled her.

Slowly Savannah shook her head. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand, John. I wanted you. Being in your arms, feeling you make love to me, was better than anything…” She dropped her lids and sighed. “But the guilt I felt afterwards, the guilt of having allowed myself to feel pleasure, to take something that was just for me, while Buffy is still in danger… that guilt is crushing me. I felt so ashamed afterwards. So ashamed that for a few minutes I was only thinking of myself.” She lifted her eyes again and met his gaze. “That’s why I couldn’t look at you. That’s why I couldn’t tell you how good it felt to be in your arms.”

“Goddamn it!” he cursed and hit his fist against the steering wheel. “You’re not supposed to say that. You’re not supposed to tell me that you want this, that you want me. How am I going to resist you, when you tell me you want this?” Torment shone from his eyes.

“You don’t have to resist. We’re adults. Nobody is preventing us from—”

“I feel like I’m betraying her, because I desire you.”

Shock charged through her veins like acid. “Her?”

“My wife.” He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. “I owe you an explanation.” He turned back in his seat and gripped the steering wheel. “But not here. This is not a conversation I want to have in the car.”

Savannah sat there in stunned silence. John had a wife. Yet he’d slept with her. Desired her. And why had he said it felt like he was betraying his wife? By sleeping with her, he had betrayed her. But a sideways glance at John told her that he wasn’t going to say another word until they’d reached their destination, wherever their destination was.

Ten minutes later, John pulled up to a small house in Noe Valley and pressed the garage door opener on his visor. The garage door lifted and he drove inside.

“Where are we?” Savannah finally asked.

He switched off the engine. “This is my house.”

Before she could protest or ask him anything else, he was already getting out of the car, taking the bag with him.

She didn’t move. He couldn’t possibly intend to introduce her to his wife. That would be madness. He opened the car door for her.

“You coming?”

A lump in her throat, she got out of the car and followed him into the interior of the house. John flipped a light switch in the corridor and set her bag down next to the door through which they’d entered. Ahead of her was an archway into the living room. John motioned to it.

“In here.” He flipped another light switch, and subdued light flooded the small but comfortable living room. “Take a seat.”

She followed his invitation and sat down on the couch. John sank into a broad armchair opposite her. Savannah listened for sounds in the house, but there were none. Nobody apart from the two of them was here. They were alone. Which begged the question: where was his wife? Visiting relatives? Was that why he’d slipped, why he’d slept with her earlier tonight, knowing his wife was out of town?

Not able to bear the suspense any longer, she asked, “Where is your wife?”

He met her eyes. “Nicolette is dead.”

A gasp burst over her lips and she pressed her hand to her mouth as if she could take her question back, but it was too late. “I’m so sorry, I’m—”

“You don’t have to say that. You didn’t know her. What happened to her happened four years ago. But sometimes it feels like it was yesterday.”

The pain in his voice was palpable.

“You see, you’re not the only one who feels guilty for having experienced pleasure. I know how you feel. I know how guilt tastes, how you try to deny yourself any kind of pleasure because of it. That’s why I’m determined to find Buffy, so you won’t have to go through this any longer. Because it will eat away at you.”

“Tell me what happened to her. To Nicolette,” Savannah said, because she could feel that he needed to talk, that maybe, he’d never talked about it before. That he’d kept it all inside.

For a long moment John was silent, and it looked like he wasn’t going to respond, but then suddenly, he started to speak in a voice that sounded as if he was talking to himself. “She was pregnant with our first child. A son. We were living in New Orleans, and I was working as a bodyguard. There was a big party that night. I was overseeing the festivities. My boss had invited Nicolette too, and I’d made sure she had a limo and a driver to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive herself in her condition. She was almost eight months along. So close to giving birth.”

Savannah noticed him take a deep breath as if to steady himself. As if to collect his strength so he could continue.

“When she didn’t arrive when she was supposed to, I called the driver. They were just reaching the exit ramp of the freeway. They were only a few miles away. The phone line was still open when a big rig slammed into them. Later we found out that the truck driver had been driving for ten hours straight and had nearly missed the exit. He took it too fast. Lost control of the truck. It fishtailed.”

Savannah pressed her hand against her mouth, suppressing a sob, while tears stung in her eyes. She knew how this story would end, but she knew John had to tell it.

“I heard it all, and I heard Nicolette. She was still alive. I jumped into the closest car and raced to her. I got there within minutes. I was so close to saving her. So close. But the crash had punctured the gas tank.” He lifted his head to look straight at her, though Savannah wasn’t sure he saw her. “The limo exploded into a ball of fire in front of my eyes. It was an inferno. But I couldn’t give up. I ran toward it. Somehow I managed to pull her out of the burning car. But it was too late. She was already dead. And so was our son. I wanted to die then too. I wasn’t that lucky. My boss had followed me and stopped me.”

“You must have loved her so much,” Savannah choked out.

“I still do.” John rose and walked to the fireplace.

Savannah followed him with his eyes and saw the photo that stood there in a gilded frame. Instinctively, she rose and walked to join him. When she was close enough to get a good look at the photo, she froze. The woman in the picture was a black beauty, her eyes shining with love, her smile infectious.

John turned toward her. “You remind me of her, even though in so many ways you’re different from her. She was Creole; her mother was from the West Indies, her father from France. And she accepted me with all my faults. Because she loved me.” He sucked in a breath. “And now I’m betraying that love. I’m betraying her because I crave you. I’ve desired you from the moment you walked into my office. I yearn to have with you what I had with her. And I feel guilty because of it. And scared. More scared than ever in my life.” His eyes locked with hers for the first time since they’d entered his home.

“Oh, John.” She could barely believe what she heard. So much pain, so much anguish.

He shook his head. “I can’t go through that again. I can’t survive it a second time.” He let out a bitter laugh. “What am I saying? Most people don’t even find this kind of love once in their lives. How can I hope to find it a second time?” He turned away abruptly. “I’ll take you to my friend’s house. I think it’s best for you. At least you’ll be safe there. You won’t have to worry about me coming to your bed and trying to force myself on you.”

“You’re not capable of forcing yourself on a woman, John,” she said. She was convinced of it. A man who could love so deeply, a man who experienced guilt so profoundly, wasn’t capable of hurting a woman he desired.

“You can’t be sure of that. Please, Savannah, please let me take you to Wesley’s house.”

She took a step toward him and put her hand on his shoulder, making him turn toward her. “I want to be here with you. For you. You were there for me when I needed comfort. When I’d nearly lost all hope of finding Buffy. Now I’m here for you. Nicolette would want me to stay to give you the comfort she can’t give you anymore.”

“You know what will happen if you stay,” he warned without malice in his voice.

She lifted her hand to his cheek and brushed her knuckles over it. “Yes, I know what will happen. Because we both want it to happen. We need each other. I don’t know whether what’s between us right now will ever have a chance to flourish. Nobody knows that. All I know is that right now, I need you, and you need me.”

“Savannah,” he murmured, and this time he wasn’t pleading for her to leave. He leaned in, put one hand on her waist and slid the other to her nape. “I’m going to be gentle this time. I promise.”

“I don’t care how you take me, John. As long as you take me.”