When the sergeant was satisfied, Tristan beckoned for Lulu and Raul to come in. The interior was much more utilitarian. A sturdy couch unholstered in sage-green, straight-backed dining room chairs that could handle a giant’s weight. She remembered that Toni’s partner was a former pro fighter. He probably demanded unbreakability from his furnishings.
“I’m going to bring the cruiser to Maya,” said the sergeant. “She’ll be here overnight, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.”
“Thank you so much for coming in on your day off,” Lulu told him.
“Been doing that a lot. Two of us are out sick and that’s almost half the department. You take care. Maya will take you to the police station in the morning, soon as the Feds are there.”
They played cards and took turn taking showers until it was time for dinner. Raul kept yawning, the poor boy. Shortly after dark, Maya arrived. She told them she had work to do in her cruiser and plenty of provisions.
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” she told them. “Get some rest. Did you check the fridge? Alastair said he left you some dinner.”
Dinner was almost an understatement. This Alastair person, who was apparently an incredible chef, had made them a fabulous paella type of dish. They all ate ravenously, and by the end, Raul was dozing off in his seat.
Lulu got Raul tucked into the bed upstairs and watched him fall asleep almost instantly. Her heart twisted as she thought about what might happen tomorrow. Would the FBI agents take him away? Would they allow her to come along with them? Or would they arrest her for getting involved? Would they be able to contact Raul’s family?
Whatever happened, things would be different. She would no longer have responsibility for this child she’d come to care about. Even more terrifying, she’d have to figure out her next move. Best case scenario, she was an unemployed dancer stranded in a small Alaska town with winter coming on and about a thousand pounds to her name.
But all that could wait, she decided as she skipped down the stairs to the ground floor. There was a rugged fisherman making up the bed in the downstairs guest room, and that was all that mattered right now. She had tonight with Tristan Del Rey, one night only, and she was going to make the most of it.
He obviously had the same idea, because she found him striking a match to light the candles clustered on a nightstand in the guest room. As the first candle flamed to life, candlelight flickered across his bearded face and gave a soft gleam to his sea-gray eyes. His hair, still damp from his shower, was slicked back from his face, drying in rough waves.
He wore cotton sleep pants that hung low on his hips. The candlelight shimmered over the hard ridges along his sides, and the smooth swell of his abdominal muscles. There was something bear-like about him, she thought. Maybe it was the golden hair that covered his chest and lower belly. Or the husky width of his shoulders. Or maybe it was just the protectiveness that she’d seen from him. Who wouldn’t want a fierce golden bear watching over them?
She leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms across her chest. “Planning to burn down your sister’s house, are you?”
“Hell, yes.” He straightened, light sliding across his skin and held out his hand. “Can’t do it alone, though.”
Her stomach in knots, she stepped forward. She wanted this—God, how she wanted it—but at the same time it terrified her. Getting sexually involved with someone seemed like the worst possible thing to do, given everything that was going on. She should stop this before it started. Before she did something she couldn’t take back.
Live your life. Take chances. Get your heart broken. Her mother’s words were so clear they might have been whispered in her ear.
Okay, Mama. Leave me alone. Inappropriate.
With his hand still extended, Tristan cocked his head at her. Quiet and steady, he locked eyes with her. “Second thoughts?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” He glanced around the room. “Is it the candles? Am I coming on too strong? After all the cold and discomfort on my boat, I thought it might be nice.”
He felt just as nervous as she did, she realized. That knowledge eased her mind. If they were both stepping into the unknown together, that was different.
“I’ll blow them out.” He puckered his lips to blow out the nearest candle, but she grabbed his hand to stop him.
“No, leave them. They’re pretty. I’m just nervous because, well, it’s been a while.”
His expression showed nothing but understanding. “For me, too.” He tugged her a step closer.
“No, I mean a long while. At least five years. When my mother got really sick, I just…” She shook her head, “I couldn’t handle anything else.”
Saying nothing, he drew her against him and cupped both hands around her face. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers. A kiss. But more than a kiss. An appreciation in physical form. As if he was communicating all sorts of complimentary things with each movement of his lips. You’re beautiful. You deserve joy. You deserve to be lavished with pleasure. I want you.
She leaned against him, her body fully pressed against his, hip to shoulders, and ran her hands along his back. The hard muscles flexed under her touch.
“Not sure if I can handle this,” she said more lightly. “All these muscles and so forth. It’s a lot, Captain Del Rey.”
“And here I am wondering if I can handle the smoking-hot dancer with the legs that don’t stop. You might high-kick me into oblivion.”
Laughter filled her chest. “That I might. Care to risk it?”
“I’m ready to take a chance if you are.”
“Your wrist?” He touched her right hand gingerly.
“Good as new.”
He slid his hands under her rear and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him, bringing a groan of arousal from him. “Those legs…damn. You’re killing me. Doesn’t even take a high-kick.”
He spun around to carry her to the bed, while she peppered kisses into his bare neck. The taste of his skin went right to her head, that mixture of fresh shower dampness and underlying man flesh. So warm and alive. Alive. She was alive, she really was, and her heart was beating and her nerves jumping and her skin prickling.
All her hesitation evaporated in the strong hold of Tristan’s arms. This was exactly what she needed. All of her body parts were telling her the same thing. Her nipples pulsed, already sensitized from being pressed against Tristan’s chest. Moisture sprang between her legs, hot and juicy. As a dancer, she was used to listening to her body. The message it was sending was clear as well-water. I want Tristan.
They tumbled together onto the bed, and whatever slow pace they’d started off with shifted into a frantic pile-on. All their clothing got flung to all corners of the room until they were both completely naked and breathless. She had no idea where it had all gone and didn’t care. All she saw was the magnificent muscled man tangled up with her.
Some piece of clothing must have come close to a candle, because the light flickered.
“No burning down the house.” Tristan stretched over her, arms braced on either side of her. “At least not until I’ve been inside you.”
“Yes, Captain.” Demurely, she blinked at him. “Whatever you say, Captain.”