Strategic Engagement

Way to go, bud.



He forged ahead. "You're probably right. My relationship history hasn't been any better than my father's."



"At least you were smart enough not to marry your mistakes."



He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. "You can shut that talk down right now. We may have made mistakes, you and I, but knowing you was the best damned thing that ever happened to me."



A tender smile crept over her face. "You are so sweet, Danny."



"Sweet?" Crap. She obviously had him mixed up with someone else.



Her hand eased away as she trailed ahead. "But I wasn't talking about us. I meant my marrying Kent."



Her words carried so quietly on the night air, he let them kick around in his head for a few seconds to make sure he'd heard her right.



"So Kent McRae was a mistake?" He couldn't stop the question. He was human after all.



"Obviously, or I wouldn't have divorced him." She pulled ahead with long-legged strides that drew his eyes and his libido.



And then her words soaked into his brain. He stopped. You left him." A fact that meant a lot more to him than it should. "I never knew for sure."



She continued ahead for five tide-swishing steps. He stood unmoving, seaweed twining around his ankles as tenaciously as thoughts of this woman. Thoughts and curiosity about the man she'd chosen to marry without the coercion of a shotgun wedding.



Finally she spun to face him, all traces of regret and could-have-beens erased from her face. She was getting better at hiding her emotions. Much more practice and she'd be gone from him altogether, even if she never crossed the county line.



A bizarre thought for him, a man who kept life simple. Fact based. But he knew. She was easing her way out of his world. She'd thrown him out last time. This time she would stride away with a long-legged grace.



She smiled, signaled her end to deeper discussions, another freaking odd thought since that was usually his role.



"Anyhow, it's wonderful how everyone turned out for you with more than just gifts. They're here with support, for you and the boys. You're going to be fine." She held his gaze for one of those long, Mary Elise moments that carried peace and intensity all at once. "I'm so happy for you, Danny. You deserve to be loved."



"So do you." Where had that come from?



Well, hell. Of course he'd never been the right man for her, but that didn't mean he didn't want her to be happy. He'd always wanted that for her.



Her mask slipped, not much. But enough.



He pressed his advantage. "You don't have to go." Daniel closed the steps between them. "I know you'll need your own place and a job, so why not settle in Charleston? I'm not looking for you to take on my responsibilities, but it would be good for the boys to have you near. And I could help you relocate."



She backed up a step, tidewaters swirling between them. "I'm not staying here."



He'd expected that, realized he'd have to push her on this. He hadn't, however, expected the jab of disappointment. Eleven years had passed just fine without her.



Well, maybe more like the last nine of them.



Why the hell should a handful of days together change that? "Where are you going? Back to Savannah after all?"



She shook her head. "I want to start over somewhere new, fresh."



"Where?"



Since when was she the kind of woman who wanted to see the world? She'd been the girl who planned to settle in Savannah and fight battles with award-winning editorials that would shape the future of her hometown.



"Midwest or up north," she answered evasively.



Enough of this bull. He gripped her shoulders and drew her close, closer until the current made circles around their ankles. "What's going on here, Mary 'Lise?"



He tightened his hold before she could slip away from him again like the sand under his feet; and tried like hell to ignore the sense that if she left, that would be the end. No more second or third chances to get her out of his head. He would be stuck with her haunting his mind with regrets, clinging to his thoughts like one of those whispery strands of red hair blowing over him for the rest of his freaking life.



They might not be able to recapture their friendship. The soft give of womanly flesh heating through his hands and sending blood straight south fast confirmed that. But damn it, he would not let this woman go until he knew she was settled, editorial pen in hand, crusades in place.



Smiling again.



He stepped closer and let the heat of his body filter through the air and his words. "Why haven't you called your parents? Or anyone other than me? Don't get me wrong, I want to be here for you, whatever you need, you know you can count on me. Doesn't matter what the hell happened eleven years ago. One call, and I'm there."



"The call was for the boys, Danny."



Anger chafed like the broken shells under his feet. "I know there's not a chance you would have contacted me otherwise."



"Because I don't need anything." She softened her steely declaration with a gentle smile and hand on his forearm.



A hand that shook.



"You're a good liar. You say it with a straight face, no wince, looking me right in the eye. But the thing is, I know you learned that from me after the trouble I pulled us through as kids."



"Then how do you know I'm not telling the truth?"



"I'm a better liar now than I was before." Military training and covert ops had taught him well. He raised his hand, pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, her pulse throbbing against his skin. "I can feel your lie right here."



Her heart rate kicked up a notch under his touch, a wariness tinting her eyes that almost stirred guilt. Almost. He wouldn't be deterred from prying answers out of her this time.



Eleven years ago that cornered look in her eyes might have swayed him. But not now. He'd seen the worst the world had to offer. Fought it. Conquered it more than once, and damned if he would let this woman bring him down with a simple wince.



He was doing this for her.



Then the flash in her eyes shifted, she shifted, changing into a different woman, a steely, determined woman who may have visited some of those hells he'd seen. He saw a different Mary Elise, but one who still sent jolts of awareness rocking through him until his gut clenched with need, his pulse now echoing hers. Hard and fast.



Definitely hard.



Mary Elise gripped his wrist and pulled his hand down, trailing his fingers over her collarbone until his palm flattened over her heart. "There are plenty of reasons a woman's heart rate speeds up, Danny."



Chapter 9



Desperation chewed through her. Mary Elise wrapped her hand tighter around the warm strength of Danny's wrist, his fingers riding the beginning curve of her breast. Heat seared silk.



It had to be desperation and fear of her past being uncovered, of others taking on the risk and danger of her foolish mistakes. She wouldn't allow the emotions burning through her to be anything else.Still, why hadn't she opted for a different distraction from Danny's persistence? Like a leg cramp? She'd walked off the real cramps and backache, but why hadn't she faked they were back again? Even a mad dash in the opposite direction would have made more sense than this.



Touching. Wanting. Needing. And there weren't nearly enough people on this patch of beach to offer chaperoning, a lone dog walker already disappearing around a dune.



At least she had the satisfaction of knowing she'd shocked Daniel as much as herself because the man stared down at her with dark eyes, stunned silent—but not moving away. Desire curled smoky paths through her veins.



She wanted to believe the pulsing heat came from abstinence. Except she knew better. Never had she wanted a man's touch as much as she wanted Danny's. Now. Right now, with a surety that if it didn't happen soon, she would spontaneously combust.



Danny's brows lowered and his hand twitched back, away, callused fingers snagging on silk. Involuntary muscles held his hand firm with a strength she hadn't known she possessed.



And suddenly, more than ever, she wanted something to take with her when she left in four days. A memory. A kiss. The question answered about whether her imagination had exaggerated the impact of his mouth against hers.



She couldn't stay, so what the hell did it matter now if she blew any chance of friendship? Her peace of mind was already shot. Yes, even fleetingly, she definitely deserved something. This. Him.



"You should know what you do to my heart rate, Danny. And I think maybe I do the same to yours." Mary Elise arched up, into him, against him, not a far stretch as he topped her by no more than four inches.



Surprise nipped. This new man seemed so much larger than the young lover from her memories. But in her arms, he was her Danny. She took comfort in that as she leaned in to take his mouth.



And then he wasn't her Danny at all.



A hungry growl of possession rumbled low in his throat. His mouth took hers right back in the kiss of a man. Not a hungry youth who, yes, had style and exuberance. But a man of intensity, strength.



Experience.



All man. And he made her feel all woman. A sensation she hadn't experienced in so long she'd forgotten the heady rush of being wanted. Desired. Even while sex with Kent had been physically satisfying at the beginning, all too soon any mating had become just that. Mating. She'd been nothing more than a vessel to bear his child, and somewhere along the way had lost the wonder of being a woman.



Danny reminded, reassured her with the bold possession of his mouth, tongue, hands traveling down her back to urge her closer to the undeniable proof that he desired her. A precious gift she hadn't realized she needed, and now she couldn't face losing it.



Losing him?



She shunted that thought away, too much, too dangerous, and focused on his kiss, the warm play of muscles under her hands. The roar in her ears swelled like ocean echoes in a conch shell. Somehow she knew that in years to come she would listen to a shell whisper reminders of passion.



Mary Elise hooked her leg around Daniel's bare calf and gloried in the gentle rasp of his bristly hairs and sand against her sensitive skin. Reveled in the masculine growl the rub of her heel elicited low in his throat.



Drinking in the taste of him tinged with beer and memories, Mary Elise clung to his broad shoulders and the moment. A moment so much hotter than her memories, and her memories of wrapping herself around Daniel Baker had been mighty damned hot. Keeping her awake and hungry and longing on more than one night.



And now after just one kiss from the adult Daniel, she feared she might never sleep again.



Daniel gathered a fistful of Mary Elise's hair, anchoring her sweet mouth to his, and wondered how he was going to sleep through another night on that damned sofa. Then thought about how much he didn't want to sleep tonight, wanted to spend the night peeling those silk shorts down Mary Elise's long legs.



What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't freaking control his shaking hands or the consuming drive to possess this woman. Now. Here. Who needed a wide inviting stretch of bed where a couple of nosy kids might spring in on them anyway?Kids.



The boys. Responsibilities and life and a woman with problems she wasn't sharing and plenty of his own she didn't need to shoulder.



He tore his mouth from hers, a tougher proposition than slipping past enemy radar in a combat zone. Her foot glided down his leg back into the water, moonlight sparking fiery glints in her hair. His forehead fell to rest on hers and he inhaled the scent of her honeysuckle shampoo. Of her.



His arms draped over her shoulders, their h*ps still grazing a tantalizing dance against each other as his libido defied his reason. "Good God, Mary Elise. What was that about?"



"You didn't want to kiss me?"



Oh, he wanted to and a lot more, but that didn't make it any wiser. Not that he could lie to her. This was his doing as much as hers.



He pressed her fingers to his neck where his pulse double-timed. "What do you think?"