Protecting Tricia (8 page)

Clint shook his head to dislodge the memory. He didn’t want
to dwell on that, because it had been the beginning of the end, and in the end
he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Right now, all he wanted to
remember were the good times, and there were plenty of those to choose from.

“Let’s see, what else do I remember? You hate mustard, and
you love strawberries. And grape suckers. It seemed like every time I saw you
you had a grape sucker stuck in your mouth. You always smelled like roses and
tasted like grapes.” He looked into her eyes and wished he could taste her
right then. “I used to watch you suck on one of those things, and it was the
most erotic thing I’d ever seen. The way you’d slide it in and out of your
mouth, it put all kinds of naughty images in a man’s mind.” He brushed his
thumb over her lips. “You have an incredible pair of lips, Tricia.”

Just then she swiped her tongue over them, and he struggled
to hold back his groan.

“And we’re right back to sex again,” she pointed out.

“Sorry.” The word was apologetic, but the tone wasn’t.

Tricia’s gaze left his eyes. “Is this song ever going to
end?”

He saw no reason to tell her that the song had already
ended. They were dancing to another one now.

“I hope not.” At his declaration, her gaze returned to his.
“I like you right where you are.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Her body
went as stiff as a slab of concrete.

“Now, now, Tricia. Remember, we’re trying to give the
impression of the happy couple, aren’t we?”

“I don’t want you to kiss me.” Her protest was a whisper.

He lowered his mouth to hers again. “Pretend like you do.”

A tiny voice in the back of Tricia’s mind urged her to
resist. But the voice was so distant it was barely audible, and therefore easy
to ignore. She waited, motionlessly, as Clint’s mouth descended on hers. When
his lips touched hers, her eyes drifted closed.

The kiss was slow, gentle, easy. She allowed it, enjoyed it
even, but didn’t respond to it. When he licked her top lip, the breath backed
up in her lungs. Next, he tasted her lower lip, then nipped it ever so gently
with his teeth.

With a quick intake of air, her lips parted of their own
accord. Without permission from her brain, her body pressed more firmly against
his, and her fingers curled into the soft cotton of his shirt.

His lips, still pressed against hers, curved upward into a
smile. That self-satisfied gesture of his had her careening back to reality.

What are you doing?
This time the voice was most
definitely audible—it screamed inside her head.

Tricia’s eyes popped open, and she pushed against Clint’s
shoulders to separate their mouths. She stared at him silently for several
seconds as she tried to gather her muddled thoughts.

“Don’t do that again,” she finally whispered. “I don’t want
you to ever do that again.”

“Now, darlin’, your response leads me to believe that you do
want me to do it. I think the problem is you wish you didn’t.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You are incredibly arrogant.”

“No, I’m just honest. But you have my promise that I won’t
kiss you again…unless you ask me to.”

“There’s no way I’ll ever do that.”

There was no denying she was still physically attracted to
him. Even though she loathed the fact, it was there nevertheless. But damned if
she’d admit it to him.

The important thing now was ensuring her hormones didn’t
overrule her sense of reason. Those hormones were a dangerous thing. This
encounter had proved that point. If her sanity hadn’t returned, and if they
hadn’t been in the middle of a crowd of people, in another five minutes she
would have been tearing his clothes off and pleading with him to make love to
her. And wouldn’t he just love that?

Yes, he would. As a matter of fact, she knew only too well
how much he’d love it, because there had been a night when she’d done exactly
that. And, good God, what intense pleasure she had experienced that night.

It was almost as intense as the pain you experienced a
few months later. Remember that? And that pain lasted a whole lot longer than
the orgasm did.

Thankfully, her trip down memory lane was cut short by the
return of logic and reason. A fact which pleased her immensely since it
confirmed her brain was in fact in control.

“Can we go now?” she asked. “You’ve seen David and Jack.”
She paused long enough to tilt her head to the side and smile sweetly before
mentioning the next name. “And Candy. Is there anyone else you needed to see
tonight?”

“No, there’s no one else. We can leave anytime you’re
ready.” Clint’s hands dropped from their position at her waist. For a
millisecond, Tricia wanted them back, but she gave herself an internal shake
and stepped away.

Turning on her heels, she led the way to the door with Clint
following closely behind. When she stepped outside, the cool night air rushed
over her face. Wonderfully clean, fresh air, void of the smell of smoke that
had filled her nose for the last several hours.

When she reached the truck, she hesitated and turned to
Clint. “Are you okay to drive?”

He blinked at the question. “I’m fine.”

“You had quite a few beers.”

He rolled his eyes, an exasperated expression on his face.
“I only had four.”

“That’s a lot. Maybe I should drive.” She held her hand out,
palm up, and waited for him to turn over his keys.

“I’m fine,” he ground out.

She leaned against the truck and studied him for several
seconds. He did seem fine. But no way would she get in the car with him until
she was absolutely certain he could drive.

“Okay, tough guy, prove it.” She pointed to a spot on the
ground. “Walk a straight line.”

“What?”

“Walk a straight line.”

He threw his hands in the air. “Good God Almighty! I can’t
believe this.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. He balled his hands into
fists at his side and glared at her. It appeared that each of them was intent
to wait the other out.

“Please,” she added. Tricia had no idea why, but for some
reason her voice came out soft and coaxing.

Apparently, not coaxing enough because he shook his head
firmly and stepped toward her until his face was mere inches from her own.

“This is ridiculous. I am not going to…” His words broke
off, and the look in his eyes transformed from anger to understanding.

Without another word, he did as she had asked. After walking
about ten feet, he turned and walked back. He had walked a perfectly straight
line and hadn’t wobbled at all.

The sound of cheering tore her attention away from Clint.
She glanced across the parking lot to see several of the bar’s patrons watching
the scene. Her brows lifted in surprise when she noticed that one member of
Clint’s cheering section was the football player who had admired her earlier in
the evening.

“Satisfied?” Clint asked, his voice low and tense.

Her gaze returned to his. “Touch your nose with your
finger.”

“Damn it, Tricia. You can see I’m perfectly fine to drive,
so you either get in the truck or go get a ride from your friends over there.”

Silence filled the air as they stared at each other.
Finally, Clint broke eye contact, cursing under his breath. He tilted his head
back, closed his eyes, extended his arm, and brought his finger to his nose,
completing the task perfectly.

Once again the men clapped and cheered. “Nice job, Clint,”
one of them called out.

Clint swung his head in their direction. “Shut up,” he
yelled. Turning his gaze back to Tricia, he asked, “Are we done now,
officer
?
Or do you want to pat me down next?”

“No,” Tricia replied with a slight shake of her head. “I
don’t want to do any patting on your body.”

At that remark the other men snickered. Tricia knew that in
order for them to have heard her words, they must have been straining their
ears. When the snickers turned into laughter, Clint shot a fierce look their
way.

“Let’s go,” he muttered as he headed for the driver’s door.

Once they were seated in the truck, she glanced at him and
watched as a muscle jumped along his jaw at his clenched teeth. Although he
appeared furious, he managed to exit the parking lot without squealing the
tires. When they pulled out on the highway, he kept the speed at an acceptable
rate.

“I looked like a damned fool,” he muttered.

Indeed he had, and the goading of the other men had only
made matters worse. But in spite of everything, he had done as she asked.

“I’m sorry,” Tricia said. “It’s just that…”

“I know.” Clint glanced at her briefly, then returned his
gaze to the road. “I was sorry to hear about your parents’ deaths. I know how
hard it must have been for you.”

She shrugged and concentrated on maintaining a neutral tone
of voice. “I lived through it.”

But she hadn’t thought she would. At the time, it felt like
she had died right along with them. The pain had been so overwhelming she had
almost wanted to die.

That night, in one split second, her world had changed
completely. All because a drunk had opted to get behind the wheel of a car. He
had walked away from the wreck with little more than scratches and bruises. Her
parents had been pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital.

Tricia struggled to shove the thoughts away. The memories
had her feeling soft and vulnerable—not a good position to be in at present.
Hoping some fresh air might help clear her mind, she rolled the window down.
When the wind rushed inside the cab of the truck, she inhaled deeply.

She had been doing just fine keeping her guard up, right up
until their dance. That had been the beginning of a downward spiral. If she
hadn’t lost that stupid coin toss…

Then it hit her.

“Hey!” Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at
Clint. “Heads you win, tails I lose. You were going to win no matter what the
coin landed on.”

“Yeah.” His voice didn’t indicate a bit of remorse. “I
wondered if you were going to realize that.”

“You tricked me.” She couldn’t fathom why there was
disbelief in her voice—she should have expected deceit from him. “It was so
obvious. And I fell for it.” Her words were directed more to herself than to
Clint.

He pulled beside the house and turned off the engine.
Twisting his body toward her, he rested his arm on the back of the seat. “I
wanted to hold you. I was willing to cheat if that’s what it took.”

He slipped his hand under her hair to touch the back of her
neck. When he massaged it, she quivered at the pleasurable sensation. It was
nothing more than an involuntary bodily response, but one he’d taken notice of
from the look in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

She lifted an eyebrow. This declaration from the man who had
once been so eager to shove her out of his life. Did he really think she was
going to believe it?

“That night, at that party—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped before he could
continue. Moving as quickly as humanly possible, she high-tailed it out of the
truck. Escape was the only thing on her mind. Escape from him and from a
conversation she had absolutely no desire to have.

When she reached the porch, she grabbed the doorknob and
jiggled it savagely when it refused to open. Cursing softly, she crossed her
arms over her chest and waited for Clint to arrive to open it.

It seemed like an eternity before he reached the porch,
although she had managed to clear the same distance in a matter of seconds.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she stared straight out
over the dark horizon, refusing to meet his gaze. The instant the door was ajar
she pushed past him, but had barely gotten inside the house when he grabbed her
arm and swung her around. The movement was so sudden that it forced her to
place her hands on his chest to avoid slamming against his hard body.

“We’re going to talk about this. We
need
to talk
about it,” he said. “We need to get it all out in the open and get past it.”

She shook her head. “There’s no reason to go dragging up the
past. It won’t change anything.” She wrenched her arm from his grip and hurried
down the hallway.

* * * *

Tricia rolled over in bed and opened her eyes. The
illuminated numbers of the clock on the nightstand changed to read 3:02 AM.
Other than the dim red light given off by the clock, the room was consumed in
darkness. She raised her gaze to the window, searching for the moon, and caught
a brief glance of it as it peeked out from beneath a cluster of dark clouds
before disappearing behind them once again.

Then she heard a noise. She lay very still and strained her
ears. Seconds later she heard the noise again. It sounded almost like…scratching
or scraping. That must have been what woke her up. She continued to concentrate
on listening, but other than the faint chirping of the crickets outside the
window, the house was silent.

It’s nothing. You’re hearing things. Go back to sleep.

She shook her head and settled more deeply under the covers
as her eyelids drifted closed. After five minutes of tossing and turning, she
gave up the battle. It would be impossible for her to go back to sleep without
first assuring herself beyond any doubt that everything was okay.

For one fleeting moment she considered knocking on Clint’s
bedroom door and asking him to check the house. With a shake of her head, she
silently reprimanded herself for reacting like a fearful child.

Tricia slipped from the bed and padded to the door. Opening
it, she stepped into the hallway.

Immediately, a hand slapped over her mouth, and a powerful
arm gripped her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Panic—intense
and overpowering—engulfed her. Her eyes widened, her breath stuck in her
throat, and her body froze in fear.

“Shh. It’s only me.”

At the sound of Clint’s voice whispering against her ear,
her body sagged in relief.

“Go back in the bedroom and lock the door.” The words were
spoken so softly she barely heard them. He released her with a gentle push
toward the room, and she quickly followed his instructions.

Only when she’d locked the bedroom door behind her did the
thought hit her that if Clint had heard the noise also, she hadn’t imagined it.
The danger was real.

Her gaze swept the room, searching desperately for a weapon
of some type. But it was so sparsely furnished her choices were limited.
Hastily, she unplugged the lamp from the outlet and lifted it off the
nightstand. It was heavy. That was good. As she passed the dresser she paused
long enough to grab a bottle of perfume from her open bag that sat on top of
it.

Backing up against the wall, her gaze shifted back and forth
from the door to the window. She had a plan—bash him over the head with the
lamp, spray the perfume in his eyes, and run like Satan himself was chasing
her. Which seemed most appropriate considering that Matt’s evil matched that of
the devil’s.

It wasn’t the greatest plan ever devised, but at the moment
it was the best she could come up with.

It seemed like an eternity she stood there. Waiting.
Watching. Listening.

“Tricia,” Clint called as he rapped on the door.
“Everything’s okay. Open up.”

She exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. After setting the lamp
on the floor, she hurried to open the door.

“What was it?” she asked.