Daniel

Hope’s breath hitched as her crying tapered down. The defeated sound tore at his heart. They were a couple miles from her house now, just another car in the flood of vehicles leaving the city for the suburbs. Dusk had fallen and, on either side of the road, neon lights and illuminated signs glowed with their own garish glory.

“Thanks for getting us out of there,” she said in a small voice.

He glanced over at her and wished he hadn’t. She looked so frail, so crushed, and she had curled in on herself, her head resting against the window. In the back seat, the cat let out a grumble now and again, but seemed content enough. He must have been crazy to risk everything by going back for the animal, but the only thing he’d been thinking at the time was how much it would have hurt Hope to lose her pet.

“That’s my job, ma’am.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Like what?”

She uncurled a bit and turned to look at him, her eyes red rimmed, her cheeks still flushed from crying. “Your job, is it always this dangerous? You seemed so...I don’t know...unruffled for lack of a better term.”

Thinking back on his war experiences he had to laugh. “That wasn’t dangerous.”

“It was to me.”

“Then why don’t you go into protective custody?” He merged into the next lane and continued to creep through traffic.

She was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a steel edge to it. “Because doing what’s right is who I am, who I want to be. If you don’t stand up for your beliefs and live what you preach, then what good are you? You’re just another self-entitled bastard who likes to complain about the problems of the world while expecting someone else to fix them.”

Her words struck a chord in him. “Good point.”

She blew out a harsh breath and said in a forced cheery tone. “How much further do we have, Mr. O’Neil?”

“Escobar,” he said in a sharp voice, trying to keep the old hurt and anger under control. “I don’t use my mother’s name anymore, Dr. Walker.”

“Sorry, I forgot.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the cab, broken only by the sounds of traffic through the open windows. From the corner of his eye he watched her lace and unlace her fingers, berating himself for taking out his anger on her. He was a complete asshole. She hadn’t done anything to deserve any of this. He recalled their conversation before the goons broke in. As much as he wanted to continue it, to find out what had happened all those years ago, now was not the time.

She turned to him. “Call me Hope, please. Friends call each other by their first name.”

His mouth went dry, but he tried to keep his tone light. “Am I your friend?”

“Danny, you’ve always been my friend, and we need to talk about what happened.” She muttered in a softer voice, “And I need to call my dad and find out what the hell he did.”

Emotions beat against his chest, but he blocked them all out. No, he wasn’t going to deal with this shit now. He needed to put some space between them, but how the fuck was he supposed to do that when they were trapped in traffic together? He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I need to update Milton on what’s going on.”

A quick glance at Hope showed the line between her eyebrows had deepened and he inwardly groaned. “Eventually you’re going to have to talk to me.”

“No, I don’t. I’ve been hired to protect you, Hope, not talk to you.” She sucked in a quick breath like he’d hit her and a massive wave of guilt broke through his control. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re completely right. My dad hired you to protect me. That’s all.”

Good, they were both in agreement. But why did it hurt so much when she said it?

Traffic slowed as they approached another light and, in the resulting quiet, he easily heard her indrawn breath and a whispered sound of hurt. He inwardly cursed himself for being a dick. Not wanting to see the upset on her face, he slipped the hands-free device for his cell phone into his ear and hit the button to call his boss.

His boss answered on the second ring. “Escobar, are you and Dr. Walker all right? Were either of you hurt in the fire?”

He should have known Milton would already be aware of the situation at Hope’s house. The Contego Agency monitored all local police, fire, and EMS traffic, and they would have heard the chatter about Hope’s house being on fire. “Yes, sir, we made it out before they set the fire.”

“Did you get a look at them?”

“There were at least two men, but I only saw one and that was from above. The guy I saw was a couple inches taller than me, probably around two-twenty to two hundred-thirty pounds, dark hair, spiky on top.” He forced his mind to freeze the memory, to look at it like a picture and give him time to study it in detail. “He had a big, flashy gold watch on his left hand and I think some kind of class ring on his right. I think the stone was either blue or black.”

Hope tapped him on the knee. “He sounded Canadian.”

He gave her a brief smile. “Yeah, and he sounded Canadian.”

“Got it,” Milton said and repeated the information to someone.

“Also, I need some supplies dropped off at the house.” He took a right into the oak shaded street leading to the safe house. This neighborhood had been built with the wealth of the automobile industry and, in the past, was the exclusive domain of the Ford family and their upper management. “I’ll need a cat box, some litter, and some cat food.”

Milton grunted. “So, Dr. Walker brought along her cat.”

“Yeah.” He slowed the Lincoln as they approached their destination. The large brick Tudor style house that belonged to the Agency had a circular cobble stone drive that led up to the house then branched off to the garage. A mass of blooming hydrangea hid a camera that recorded everyone entering the property and sent a live feed back to the Contego Agency’s monitoring station.

“Pressure sensors in the driveway just went off at the house. I’m assuming that’s you?”

“Yes, sir, we’re pulling in right now.” He clicked the door opener for the garage and slowly pulled into the empty bay.

“Excellent. Please let Dr. Walker know she is expected at work tomorrow. We’re sure DeLuca’s men will be waiting for her there, but I doubt they’ll try anything. At noon you will take her out to lunch at Belowistz’s Diner and we’ll see if we can catch us any fish. Make sure you take Dr. Walker in through the front door and have her open it. I want to make sure the system correctly registered her.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll send you an email later. I want to get her settled in for the night.”

“Take care of her, Escobar. You did a good job today.”

After stuffing his phone back into his jeans pocket he took a deep breath and held it before opening the side door of the Lincoln. Slasher immediately started yowling and he grabbed the cat carrier, trying to not jostle the irate feline more than was necessary. The cat did not appreciate the gesture and carried on like he was possessed by some really irritated demon having a temper tantrum.

Hope came around the side of the SUV with her bag slung over one arm and carrying his duffle bag with both hands. The lean muscles of her arms and shoulders stood out from the strain. “I’ll trade you one bag of heavy mystery crap for my cat.”

“Done.”

Daniel led the way out of the garage and up the front walk while Hope spoke quietly to the cat, actually managing to calm it down. By the time they reached the front door Slasher’s hideous snarls had tapered off to low growling. He hoped the cat didn’t poop all over the house before the litter box got here, or even worse, on his bed.

Cats could be vindictive like that.

The front door looked like any other carved wood door, except the brass handle and lock were all for show. He flipped open the lid of the small box next to the handle and pressed his thumb down on the pad that scanned his prints. A few seconds later, the heavy bolts slid open and the door opened on its own with a pneumatic hiss. He closed the door, rearmed the system and stepped back.

“Your turn. Press your thumb down and look at the peep hole on the door. It’s a camera that is reading your facial structure.”

She froze and barely moved her lips, saying, “Can I move?”

The locks disengaged and she relaxed. “Please tell me that camera isn’t on a feed to your work?”

Daniel grinned at her and opened the door.

“Fancy,” she said under her breath as he led her into the majestic foyer of this house.

Constructed back in the 1940s by a Ford executive, the house had been built to impress and, by her wide eyes, it succeeded. The cream and bronze chased marble floor extended through the entrance to the home. Off to the right was an elaborate staircase and, beyond that, what looked like a classic parlor. To the left was the complete opposite of the pretty parlor. It was clearly a study, done in dark tones with lots of tanned leather chairs. Despite the masculine feel, it was very well designed. Next to the stairs, a long hallway turned back to the kitchen area and the servant’s quarters. Another door on the left a little farther up looked like it led to a more traditional living room with a massive black leather wrap around couch and gigantic primary color beanbags. Fresh flowers in a gleaming silver vase graced the elegant side table next to the foot of the staircase, and the lights had been dimmed throughout the house.

Danny rubbed at the developing ache in his temples and let out a small sigh of relief. At least here he could keep the lights low enough to sooth his overtaxed eyes. Still, he kept his sunglasses on in an effort to avoid a migraine. Hope brushed past him and stood at the bottom of the stairs, letting her bag slide off of her shoulder and onto the ground with a soft thump.

“This is some place you guys have here,” she said in a hushed tone. “Not exactly the secluded fortress I was picturing.”

“Milton’s sister restores old houses for a living so we were able to get a great deal on the place.” He walked over to her and placed his bag next to hers on the marble floor. “Follow me and bring Slasher.”

He took her down the hallway and into the kitchen. Pausing in the archway, he dimmed the lights further and escorted her into the newly remolded space. Stainless steel appliances gleamed beneath the recessed lighting and the bits of silver quartz in the granite countertops sparkled. The old oak boards original to the house had been refinished and the reflected the dim lights with a golden glow.

“Nice,” she said in a low tone.

“Yeah. I’m still afraid to touch anything in here. Pearl, Milton’s sister, told all of us that if we mess up, bang up or scratch a single thing she’ll take it out of our paychecks.” He paused and ran his hand over one of the counters with a grin. “Unless it gets messed up defending a client. In that case, I can burn this place down.”

“Lovely.” She laughed and hefted Slasher’s cage.

“Come on, let’s get your...cat settled.”

As if on cue, Slasher grumbled something and Hope giggled again. His heart cracked at the sound, the steel coffin he’d placed it in after he lost Hope finally breaking away. He didn’t know if he should be scared or happy. They had so much bullshit to talk about, but his number one priority was keeping her safe. If anything happened to her he would die. So he would bite his tongue as long as he could and just be here for her.

They walked over to a small hallway off the kitchen with two doors. He opened the one on the right turned on the light, revealing a washer and dryer with a small window looking out onto a garden illuminated by tastefully placed in ground lights. “Think Slasher will be okay in here?”

Hope moved to the center of the room and placed the cat carrier on the long bench with cupboards above it against the wall opposite the appliances. “Yeah, he’ll be fine in here. Do you have some towels or something I can use to make a cat bed for him?”

“Sure.” He opened one of the cupboards over the bench and pulled out a couple of towels. “Will these work?”

She nodded absently and took them. “Shut the door so he can’t bolt.”

He did as she asked and leaned against the door frame, watching her open the carrier and slowly coax the feline out with her honeyed words. He studied her profile, comparing it to a statue of Nefertiti he saw once in a museum while stationed overseas. They both had that mysterious feminine quality that could bring a man to his knees. What made Hope even more alluring was the kindness and honesty that was as much a part of her as her full lips and dark cinnamon skin.

She piled the towels into a nest at the back corner of the bench and left the door to the cat carrier open. “He’s super pissed at me right now so he won’t come out. Let’s go out of the kitchen so he doesn’t stay in there all night. Oh, and do you have any tuna in the house? He likes a snack before bed.”

“That is one spoiled cat.”

She frowned at him, looking unbelievably cute. “He’s had a rough life. If all it takes is food to make him happy, then so be it.”

“Same Hope, always taking care of strays.”

Instead of responding she brushed past him to the center of the kitchen and braced her hands on the granite island, her head hanging forward. It was such a weary, defeated posture, He hated seeing her like this, but he didn’t know what to do to make it better.

“Can I get you a drink or something?” The words sounded lame even to him and he tried again. “Your room has an enormous tub. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll make us some dinner.”

She turned around and rubbed her face, wiping away the tears that left wet streaks on her cheeks. “Danny, did you really not send me that letter? Please tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”

He watched her from behind his sunglasses, his mind scrambling for the right thing to say. Did he take the blame and let her father off the hook? After all, he was all the family Hope had left now that her mother had passed away. Then again, Daniel wouldn’t want someone lying to him about something this important. Yeah, it had happened a lifetime ago, but his anger burned anew at the thought of how different their lives would have been if her father hadn’t interfered.

They might not have ended up together, and it was totally within the realm of possibility they would have eventually parted ways, but, damn it, they could have at least had a chance. More than that, he never had and never would lie to her. Not about something as important as this.

Bracing himself for her reaction, he shook his head. “No, Hope, I didn’t write the letter any more than you said you hated me and never wanted to see me again.”

“Oh Danny, my heart died when I thought you left me.” Agony echoed in her every word and his throat closed up, hating to see her hurting.

With a burst of motion she bolted from the room. He drifted after, scarcely aware of moving his legs as his mind struggled to grasp the new direction his world had taken. She wanted to see him. She hadn’t sent the letter that told him to basically fuck off. Which meant her father was the biggest fucking asshole in the universe.

He reached the foot of the stairs as she stood up from her duffle bag with her cell phone in hand. When he got a good look at the fury on her face, he swallowed his words and watched her tap something onto her cell phone. Shit, nothing good was going to come of this. His gut churned with added anger that her father would do this to her, to them, right now when she needed protection the most.

She put the phone on speaker, and as it rang, she leaned against the elaborately carved wooden post at the base of the stairs. Unshed tears shone in her eyes, but there was no mistaking them for tears of sorrow. She was furious. The anger radiated from her in waves, and she clutched the phone so tight her knuckles blanched.

A click came through the speaker followed by the voice of an old man. “Hope?” For a moment Daniel wondered if she’d called someone else. Her father, Dr. Walker, had always reminded him of James Earl Jones with his dominating presence and deep voice. The man on the other end of the line sounded so old. “Hope? Did something happen? Are you all right?”

“How could you, Dad? You knew how much I loved him. How could you do that to me?” She moved over to the stairs and took a seat, leaning against the wall. Her hand shook as she glared at the phone.

“Hope, I’m so sorry.”

Daniel didn’t know what to do, but it broke his heart to see her so upset. He sat on the stairs above her and reached out to touch her, then pulled back. Still, he moved closer and tried to offer his silent support.

The history of his life had been rewritten in these past few hours, and he struggled with how all of this had changed his world. All the years he’d been alone, all those years spent trying to atone for the sins of his past by serving his country came crashing down on him. How would things have been different if he’d been allowed to see Hope in the hospital? At the very least, it would have saved him from ten years of nightmares, ten years of guilt, ten years of mourning the loss of the only woman he’d ever truly loved.

A long, weary sigh came from the phone clutched in her hand. “Baby, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but it never seemed to be the right time.”

“You should have told me right away! All those lies! Dad, how could you?”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry.” He coughed before continuing. “Daniel, are you there?”

He exchanged a glance with Hope. “Yes.”

“I misjudged you and did you and my daughter a great injustice. But please try to see it from my perspective. You were the first boy Hope had ever dated. Her mother and I could see how serious it was between you. We worried about her running off with you, or ending up pregnant and missing out on her dreams.”

“You had no right!” Hope seethed.

“In retrospect, no, I didn’t. At the time, all I could see was my daughter, my baby girl, being wheeled into the ER covered in blood.” His voice shook and he audibly swallowed. “Stabbed by her boyfriend.”

Guilt shot through Daniel’s body like glass shards in his bloodstream. Her father was right. He did stab her. Not on purpose, but it was his hand on the knife along with John’s that carved into the flesh of her chest, skipping over her ribs before deflecting off her collar bone. And the blood, so much blood. He startled when Hope put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight.

“Danny didn’t do it on purpose! He was trying to get the knife away from John before he slit my throat. His hands were slippery with his own blood from where John had slashed him across the forehead. He never would have cut me if I hadn’t tried to jerk away from John.” She took in a ragged breath as tears spilled down her face. “You lied to me. All these years you’ve lied to me. Did Mom know?”

“I told her before she passed and she made me promise to make it right.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “I kept trying to figure out how to do it, how to contact Daniel and let him know what an absolute bastard I was. Then I thought about how this would change things between us. I was afraid of losing you, Hope. I don’t have much time left on this earth and I need to get this right. Your mother is waiting for me and I can’t go to her with this sin on my soul. Please forgive me.”

Daniel turned their conversation over in his mind and quickly realized her father was ill and possibly dying. That added a whole new layer of sorrow to Daniel’s heart, and he wondered how Hope was able to deal with all the grief. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot everything in the world except him. But, he didn’t have the right. All he could do was be here for her.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, Dad.” Hope leaned her head back against the wall with her eyes shut. “Is that why you sent me to the Contego Agency?”

“Yes. I knew Daniel worked there. I also knew if anyone in the world could keep you safe it would be him.”

“How did you know I worked there?” Daniel asked in a tight voice, trying to keep a leash on his anger.

“I’ve been following you, Daniel.” Her father gave a dry chuckle that turned into a coughing fit. “You can’t imagine the guilt I’ve felt all these years, watching you grow into such a good man, cursing myself for hurting both you and Hope. She never did forget you like I thought she would have. You were her one true love and I took her away from you with my selfishness. Please try to forgive me.”

Hope sucked in a hissing breath through her clenched teeth. “Dad, I can’t talk to you right now. I’m so angry I might say something we’ll both regret.”

“I understand and I’m ashamed of my part in this.” He sounded weak and so sad that Danny couldn’t help but have a moment of sympathy for the man. “Is Daniel still here?”

Danny leaned forward and squeezed Hope’s knee. “Yes.”

“I know I did you wrong and I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know, but please keep her safe. I’m begging you. She is all that I have left.” His voice broke on the last word and Hope let out a muffled sob.

“I will.”

Without saying goodbye, Hope ended the call and gently placed the phone on the stairs before tipping her head back and screaming out her rage. Daniel started at the raw fury radiating off her even as tears ran unchecked down her face. She began to beat on the stairs and he grabbed both her hands before she could harm herself. They struggled on the steps before he was able to wrap her in his arms and hold her as her screams turned to sobs.

He had no idea how much time has passed before she tugged her hands out of his grip and turned to face him. “I’ll never forgive him.”

The confusion fled his mind in the face of Hope’s pain. Even his own heartache became insignificant compared to her sorrow. “Someday you will, and that’s okay. If you don’t talk with him and he passes, it will bother you for the rest of your life. Ten, fifteen, even twenty years down the road you’re going to wish with all your heart that you had forgiven him. I’m not saying I wouldn’t punch him in the face right now, but I can almost understand why he did what he did.”

“How can you say that? I hate him.”

“No, no, you don’t.” She started to protest but he shook his head. “Even after all the shit my mom did to me I still love her.” The words stuck in his throat, but he needed to say them for Hope even if he didn’t believe them himself. “Your dad made a mistake, a huge one, but we can’t change the past. All we can do is change the future.”

His therapist at the Veterans Administration had told him this time and time again, but the words had never really sunk in. He’d always dismissed it as more psychobabble from someone paid to listen to him bitch. Now, he realized the truth of those words. He couldn’t alter the past. He couldn’t go back in time to that perfect summer day and take Hope for ice cream instead of stopping by his house first. All the wishing and praying in the world wouldn’t make that happen.

It was time he let the past go and not waste another single moment of the present. Moving to a more comfortable position, he cuddled her close to his chest and pressed his lips to the rough velvet of her hair, inhaling her scent. She softened against him, turning her cheek into him and letting out a shuddering breath and then another.

“Let me go,” her voice muffled where her face pressed into his chest.

“It’s okay, Hope. I’ve got you.”

“No.”

“I’m not letting you go, baby. So just relax and let me hold you. I need to hold you right now more than you’ll ever know.” His tone was firm and left no room for argument.

She tucked herself closer to him and began to cry softly, her body heaving against his as she struggled to get a breath. He kept holding her, giving her what comfort he could knowing nothing he could say would make it better. Deep down, a small knot of guilt made his gut clench. None of this would have happened if he’d just left her alone all those years ago. Rationally, he knew that thought was stupid. Throughout his entire life, his drug-addicted mother blamed him for everything that went wrong and made him believe every bad thing that happened to him was his fault.

Hope’s sobs tapered off to sniffles and she moved her head from his chest. “I need a tissue.”

Danny lifted her from his lap and set her on the stairs. “Wait here a second.”

She gave him a miserable nod and sniffed hard.

A strange lightness seemed to suffuse his body as if a tremendous weight had been taken off his soul. In a way, it had. Ten years was a long, long time to carry around the burden of believing he’d ruined Hope’s life. The enormity of the situation threatened to drown him but he pushed it aside. Later, he would think about it later. Right now, Hope needed him, and she was all that mattered.

Most people would have been forever changed by what they went through together, but not Hope. Instead of being beaten down, she’d pulled herself up by her bootstraps and went on to become a successful pediatrician. She was the kind of person who would mace a mob boss in order to save someone else, the kind of person who would insist on returning to her work at the hospital in the hopes of catching DeLuca despite the threats to her own safety. She was amazing, and a small voice in the back of his head reminded him how unworthy of her he was.

He stopped at the downstairs bathroom and grabbed some tissues. He moved through the moonlit darkness to the stairs where Hope waited. She took the tissues from him with a sad smile.

“I must look like something dragged out of the river after five days.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She blinked up at him as he came closer and, for once, he was glad for his disability. In the darkness he could almost see more than he could in the light. In the moonlit shadows, her loveliness stunned him, even if she was a little mussed up from her hard cry.

Lightheaded with the day’s revelations, he held his hand out to her. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath. While you’re doing that, I’ll make dinner.”

“You can cook?”

He grinned and moved down the stairs to where her duffle bag sat. “Yeah, my grandfather taught me.”

She took the bag from him and wiped at her nose. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

He hesitated, then allowed himself one brief caress of her cheek, rubbing his knuckles over her soft skin. “I’ll tell you more after you’ve showered and eaten.”

“Always so bossy,” she mumbled.

“Damn right.”

*****

AN HOUR OR SO LATER, Daniel was stirring the chicken simmering in a pot on the stove when Hope walked into the kitchen in a pair of peach silk pajama pants and shirt. The color set off the rich earth tones of her skin and she looked much better than when he’d last seen her. Even without any makeup her beauty still brought him to his knees.

“Hey, you,” she said in a husky voice. “What are you making?”

“Asopao de Pollo.” He stirred the contents of the pot with a big wooden spoon. “It’s a Puerto Rican dish and one of the few things my mom taught me to cook when she was sober enough to remember the recipe.”

“Oh.” She stood next to him at the stove and leaned over, taking an audible sniff. “Mmmm. Smells delicious. What’s in it?”

“Little bit of this and that.” Happy to be talking about something as mundane as cooking after all the drama earlier, he relaxed and pointed to a cutting board full of chopped vegetables on the granite island. “Can you grab that for me? Just slowly add them to the soup while I stir.”

“Sure.”

In companionable silence, Hope added the chopped up peppers and cilantro to the stock, bringing color and spice to the dish. He’d pan seared the chicken with some onions while she was taking her bath and his stomach growled at the smell of all the different flavors coming together.

Grinning, Hope patted his stomach. “Easy there, big boy. We’ll feed you soon enough.”

A soft yowling came from the direction of the laundry room and Daniel inclined his head that way. “I saved some chicken for Slasher. It’s in the fridge.”

The smile she gave him warmed him from the top of his head to his feet. “Thank you.” She leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before going over to the fridge to get Slasher his meal.

He was glad she couldn’t see him because he was grinning like a fool. How could one woman hold so much of his heart after all these years? He tried to ground himself, to remind his stupid heart that their lives were different now. Beyond that, he still had a responsibility to her wellbeing, and he had to keep his head in the game. She was so precious to him; the thought of anyone hurting her made him see red.

A few moments later she joined him again, leaning one hip against the counter by the sink. “That was very nice of you to make that for Slasher. He is going to be in a chicken coma for the rest of the night.”

Embarrassed by her praise he busied himself cleaning up. “Mind getting us some wine from the fridge?”

She moved across the room, the silk sliding over her body in a distracting manner. When she bent down to retrieve the bottle of wine, he was treated to the sight of her well-rounded ass pressing against the sleek fabric. Swallowing back a groan, he tried to get his body under control. Of course, his cock totally ignored him and continued to stiffen as she shifted back and forth, moving things around in the refrigerator. He wanted to run his hands over her peach silk covered curves, to move aside the smooth fabric to touch the even softer skin beneath. His balls tightened and he tried to think of anything other than the vision in front of him.

Unfortunately, the only thing he could think about was Hope and how badly he wanted to be inside of her.

“Oh man,” came her muffled voice from inside the fridge. “They have a bottle of Kistler Chardonnay. Are we allowed to drink this?”

“If it’s in there, we can drink it.”

Humming to herself, she set the bottle on the counter and began to look through the cupboards for glasses. “Can you open that, please?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, they both let out a simultaneous sigh at their first sip of the wine. Surprised by how good it tasted, he looked at the bottle. “Man, this isn’t half bad.”

She laughed and took another sip before setting her glass down. “You know, I could get used to living here.”

He thought of his sparse apartment in Royal Oak and wondered what Hope would think of it. While he could afford something much nicer, he never really felt the urge to spend money on a place he’d rarely use. He avoided being home as much as possible, spending time away from the space where he was reminded of how alone he was.

They both drank in silence for a few more minutes, and Daniel stole glances at Hope through his sunglasses. While the lighting was dim enough not to bother him, he somehow felt safer behind his glasses, like they were a shield between him and Hope.

“Do you want me to pour some of this for Slasher? Or is it not a good enough vintage for him?”

“Har har,” she said and kicked at his ankle. “I seem to remember someone else had a soft spot for animals. Remember the ducks?”

He hoped the dim light hid his flush of embarrassment, and just in case it didn’t he walked over to the sink and looked out the window while sipping the wine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” Her voice took on a dramatic tone as she continued. “In the middle of Woodward Ave, during rush hour, you blocked traffic so a mama duck and her babies could cross the road without being hit.”

His ears burned with embarrassment, and he turned to the sink to wash his hands. “Must be thinking of someone else.”

Her laughter seemed to rub against his skin, making him aware of how near she was, how he could reach out and touch her. After years of wondering and dreaming about her she was finally here, and he couldn’t find the courage to say what needed to be said. Guilt still left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he was so glad what had happened that night hadn’t destroyed her, nor broken her spirit.

He wished he could say the same for himself. Deep inside, he felt totally unworthy of her, and dirty, as though the filth he’d grown up in had stained his soul, Here she was, a successful doctor, a pillar of her community, and a woman brave enough to do what she thought was right no matter the personal cost. She was way out of his league.

Her voice came from closer behind him but he didn’t turn around. “No, I remember it well. You pulled that old truck of yours over to the side and jumped out, putting your body directly in front of the ducks.” He swore he could feel her heat against his back as he soaped up his hands then rinsed them off. “I was so afraid you were going to get hurt, that some asshole wouldn’t be paying attention to the road and you’d be hit.”

“All the more reason you should have stayed in the truck and let me handle it.”

“I remember telling you to get back in the truck and you ignoring me...as usual.”

She laughed and rubbed her face against his shoulder. He told himself it didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop the pounding rush of blood that went straight to his erection. He should move away, should put some physical distance between them, but he just couldn’t. Obviously, she needed comfort. Her house had burned down, and some gangster wanted to take her out. She needed his sympathy, not his cock. Unfortunately, his dick didn’t care. It hardened against the fly of his jeans as her breasts brushed his back with each breath.

“We got those ducks to safety, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “You still should have stayed in the truck.”

“Always trying to keep me safe,” she chided in a soft voice. She rested one hand on his waist, her fingertips barely grazing him through his t-shirt. “My hero.”

His blood turned to ice.

He pushed away from the counter and turned to face her. “I’m not a fucking hero, Hope. Please don’t ever call me that again.”

A hero wouldn’t have survived three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Heroes died quickly out there, and he’d lost count of the men who had perished to protect his life. He still dreamed of them. They were good dreams, memories of the time they’d spent together on the base. Then he’d wake up and his gut would ache with sorrow at the knowledge they were truly gone. For a brief moment, he wished he lived in Hope’s world, where heroes still came to save the day. Shit, he might as well wish for a bag of hundred dollar bills while he was at it.

Hurt flashed through her eyes and added guilt to his pain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t like that word. Why don’t you like that word?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He crossed his arms and looked at a spot over her shoulder, unable to face her gaze. She’d probably read about him in the papers. The glorified and sanitized story of the battle that won him the medals now sitting in his sock drawer. The press always loved a good story and they didn’t let the facts get in their way of making him something he wasn’t: a hero. Yeah, the media talked about how he’d stayed behind to try and free his men from the grips of the crowd, but he knew the bitter truth. A good man had died because he’d failed to recognize the danger before it was too late.

Hope studied him for a long time until he found himself shifting uncomfortably beneath her gaze. “What?”

“You really believe that, don’t you? You really believe that you’re not a hero.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!”

She swallowed hard and took a few steps back. “Okay.”

He’d been gearing up for an argument, wanting to use the excuse to push her away before she could get any closer, but her lack of aggression left him floundering. “Good.”

Something in her stance shifted, and the little line between her eyes deepened. She stalked across the short distance between them with such a determined expression he found himself backing up a step. Before he could realize her intent, she’d grabbed his head between her hands and jerked him down, pressing her lips to his. He froze, torn between pulling her closer and pushing her away but, oh, God, she felt so fantastic, so soft pressed against him. Seemingly of their own accord his arms wrapped around her and held her close, his soul drinking her in.

Her kiss soothed the fire burning in him, gentled the rage and turned it into a different type of energy. He nipped at her lower lip, loving how soft and full her mouth felt against his. His heartbeat quickened as their kiss became deeper, and he pulled her tighter against him, groaning low in his throat as she rotated her hips against his aching erection.

She slipped her tongue between his unresisting lips. The taste of her drove him crazy and he met each stroke of her tongue with his own. He didn’t know if it was a result of the stress of the day or the fact that it was Hope in his arms, but he felt like he would die if he didn’t get inside of her soon. No, he wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t go that far. Maybe he could do something for her to help relive her stress and show her how much she meant to him with his touch, because he could never say the right words.

With a low grunt he picked her up and set her on the counter, enjoying how she clutched at his shoulders and gave a little feminine sound of surprise. He closed his eyes and held her in his arms again, unable to let her go for even a moment. His whole body throbbed for release but he refused to give in. Making love with her would cross the line and that’s exactly what it would be. Not fucking, not having sex, but making love. They both needed to be in a better state of mind before making a life changing decision like that. The war had changed him, reshaped his already damaged soul, and he didn’t know if she could deal with that.

Still, he could give her pleasure. He could eat her little pussy until she screamed his name and spoke in tongues. He would be more than satisfied to just enjoy her desire. She turned him on so much, he’d be lucky if he didn’t come in his pants while he worshiped her with his tongue.

When he stepped away from her she reached out to him. “Where are you going?”

He slowly removed his sunglasses and her eyes went wide. God he loved her reaction, how she was so attuned to him. Her nipples stood hard against the silky fabric of her top and he swore he could smell her arousal. “I’m going to take care of you.”