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“I’m not some damsel in distress who needs to be rescued. I know how to look after myself,” she blurted.
It took him a few seconds to process her words. “Ah,” he replied as a knowing light entered his eyes. That one syllable made her even madder. How dare heahher, as if she were the one being unreasonable.
She took three steps and got right up in his face. “Look, Detective Sergeant. I know you think you were doing the right thing by ‘protecting’ me last night.” She emphasized the word with air quotes. “But I don’t need you putting your body on the line to keep me safe. Do your job and let me do mine.”
Oops, that’d just slipped out. She was no longer a constable on the police force. She had no job to do. But this whole murder thing was forcing her back into that mode. Almost against her will, she was starting to analyze the details; the crime was practically all she could think about night and day.
“Let you do yours?” he repeated softly, and Lacey was suddenly aware that she was rammed up against his chest, standing on tiptoe, her nose barely inches from his. She was so close she could make out every detail of the scar on his cheek, every discoloration of the bruise on the side of his face, see every flash of indigo in his blue eyes as he stared back at her. Her heart was pounding erratically, and she wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline from confronting him, or because she could now feel every single minute detail of his muscular pecs that were thrust up against her breasts.
She was frozen in place. Ensnared in his gaze, her irritation evaporating in an instant at the hunger she saw in his eyes. What exactly was she angry at him for again?
His arm snaked around her waist and held her captive to his chest as they continued to stare at each other.
As if it had a will of its own, her hand reached up, and she traced his scar with her fingertip. Drifting down, she felt her way around the edge of his jawbone, which was covered in stubble, to his chin, then outlined the shape of his bottom lip. They’d been so close to kissing last night. A residual heat, left over from her unrequited craving, surged up her legs, to settle in between them. She desperately wanted to finish what they’d started.
Her gaze fixed on his mouth. There. That was where she wanted to be. Like a tractor beam was pulling her in, she stood higher and reached for his lips.
Her mouth collided with his, and as if he’d been released from a bond that’d been holding him immobile, he responded with deepening need, grabbing her around the waist with both arms and lifting her higher so he had better access to her lips and her feet were dangling off the ground. Lacey became lost in Nico’s mouth, using her tongue to explore, tilting her head to get a better angle. He sucked and nibbled, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. Then his tongue dove back in to devastate her mouth again.
She could feel the length of him pressed up against her, unable to ignore the shape of his hard erection pulsing into her belly. How could she get closer? She needed to get closer. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she levered herself up, so she was level with his face, appreciating his muscular shoulders beneath her biceps.
Then he broke their kiss, drew back to watch her for unmeasured seconds with his cobalt eyes. A slight smile curved his luscious lips, and she wanted to know what he was thinking. She opened her mouth to ask, but he buried her words beneath another scorching kiss, this one so hot she might well end up in a puddle of lust on the floor.
So this was what it felt like to be kissed by a Frenchman. They certainly had a reputation for being the world’s best lovers, and Niko was proving every last one of those rumors to be true. There was a fire, such passion, in his touch, in the way he looked at her. As if she were the only woman in the whole wide world. As if she were the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world.
How could she have gone from fiery anger to a lust so strong it nearly consumed her in less than two seconds? They were both blazing emotions; perhaps it wasn’t as large a jump from one to the other as she thought. Lacey had heard of make-up sex, but never experienced it. Now she was beginning to understand what it meant. This kiss had been hot, their connection so immediate. It was if she already knew him on some deep cellular level.
There was a noise outside the back door. A little woof of displeasure. Smudge was not happy at being left outside. It was enough to break her absolute focus and bring her back to the present. Slowly, he let her feet touch the floor again, and she remembered she was rumpled and sleep mussed as well as barefoot, being cradled in Nico’s arms in the early morning light.
She withdrew slightly, and he let her stand up straight but didn’t relinquish his hold, letting his arms drape around her waist.
“I should apologize,” Nico said, not looking at all apologetic. “For taking advantage of you.” For the first time she noticed how disheveled his hair was, and that he was also barefoot. “But I’ve wanted to do that since the day you dropped me on my ass in the gravel.”
Really? She found that hard to believe. She almost snorted, but the intensity in his dark eyes stopped her.
“And I think maybe, so have you.”
This time she did snort. Arrogant man. Who did he think he was, presuming to know what she wanted?
His lips touched hers again, soft, but still demanding, sending a scorching fire through her veins and straight to that place between her legs. Goddamnit. Perhaps he was right. There was something that’d drawn her to him right from the first night. But she was never going to admit that.
“So, I’m not going to say I regret what we just did.”
But. She could feel thebutcoming.
Smudge whined again, and Nico gave a soft smile. “But, I need to let the dog in. And then I should get to work,” he said, this time allowing her enough space to step away from him. Funny, but he made thebutsound almost reasonable.
“Yep, sure.” She busied herself getting a mug out of the cupboard by the coffee machine.
He moved back into her space and gently tipped her chin up so that she was looking at him. “I meant it, Lacey,” he said in his gravelly voice that turned her insides to mush. “I know this might be…complicated. But I don’t regret that kiss.”
“Neither do I,” she found herself saying.
“Good.”
He turned and went to let Smudge in, who bounded around their legs, searching for attention, almost as if he knew they’d been up to no good.
Lacey went to put some socks on and when she returned, Nico had made them both a coffee and toast. They discussed Karim again over their slices of Vegemite toast, and surprisingly, all of Lacey’s anger had leached away. It was like they’d been sitting here all their lives at this little table, considering the facts in an open murder case. Like they were a couple who did this every morning. Nico was itching to get to the station. Karim should be sober by now, and he wanted to interview him again. Then decide whether to lay charges. Lacey wasn’t sure any charges were warranted, because in all honesty, the guy had been too drunk to do much damage. To either of them. But that wasn’t the point. He couldn’t be allowed to go around town threatening officers of the law in their own home. And begrudgingly, she agreed.
