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  Claire turned to face him, expecting to find his eyes closed, face calm with sleep. His eyes were wide open and staring, and his face strained.

  "Connor," she began with a whisper, her desire evident in her voice even to her own ears. "I--"

  He cut her off with his mouth pressed firmly to hers. His lips soft, but the pressure of them hard and demanding, mirroring the buildup in her body.

  After the initial contact, Connor seemed to relax, his lips moving with hers, his hand behind her neck, pressing her in closer, deeper until she lost herself in his mouth.

  His hands roamed her upper body, her arms, her sides, and the flatness of her belly before moving his attention to her breast. Without breaking their kiss, he kneaded her flesh with the perfect amount of pressure to tug at that invisible string to her core. His rough palm slipped over her nipple, and she moaned into his mouth at the sensation.

  When Connor pulled away, the coldness he left behind consumed her.

  "This isn't what I had in mind when I suggested resting."

  "I know," Claire answered, heat radiated in her cheeks for fear of reading him wrong. "But this is what I need more than sleep."

  To her surprise, a smile played on his lips. "You're sure?" His expression softened.

  No one had ever asked her if she was sure about anything in her life.

  "I'm sure." She nodded. She slid one hand under his tee shirt and studied the planes of his chest until she felt Connor's breathing quicken and his hands on her again.

  He slid them under her shirt, pulling it off before undoing her bra; before she could shimmy out of her pants, his mouth was on her already aroused nipples, soaking them with his warm heat.

  Claire reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head in between kissing her breast and her lips. When his bare chest rested on hers, the feel of skin on skin brought a wave of confidence she'd never experienced.

  Trust. Safety. Protection.

  She felt them all to the point of becoming overwhelmed with tears.

  She blinked them away while working on his pants, then her own, until they lay naked against each other. Her hands roamed his warm chest with a spray of curly hair that tickled her fingers. Hard abs that felt like rocks under his skin. Down the angled planes of his thighs, tight and muscular. She worshiped all of him while Connor watched until her fingers landed on the hardened flesh of a scar at his hip.

  From his time captive, she guessed, using her fingers to study the size and length of it until Connor's hand covered hers and pulled it away.

  They both had secrets. Claire would respect that. She glanced up at him and smiled.

  Connor answered by rolling his body between her legs. The head of his erection teased her opening, sending waves of anticipation and pleasure rippling through her body. If just touching her could bring such joy, she marveled at what being inside her would bring until he pressed harder and entered.

  A shot of sudden pain followed by burning melted into fullness as she slowly propelled himself entirely into her.

  Claire bucked at the sensation, lifting her hips until she was sure she'd taken all of him inside. She closed her eyes and waited until the rhythmic precision of Connor's movements eased the pain, and her muscles tightened around him like a vice.

  Even she found it hard to believe a girl tossed from home to home then out of the streets at eighteen had made it into her mid-twenties intact, but she'd been waiting for something she could name. A feeling that would tell her she'd found the right moment to give away the only thing she had of value.

  She'd found that feeling with Connor. A man she barely knew, who'd probably get her fired or worse.

  But she'd found it. As she eased back on the bed after Connor's erection brought her release, she closed her eyes and smiled, knowing the one thing she had to give, she'd given to the only man who'd ever made her feel safe.

  6

  The beeping came from nowhere. Connor tried to see it. He tried to determine if it was a threat or not, but his eyes wouldn't open.

  His body was pinned in. He couldn't move. Couldn't see past the confusion. The familiar lump of fear weighed heavy in his throat, and soon he couldn't swallow. He took a shaky breath, and the force holding him downshifted.

  Claire. He realized it the second he reached a hand over his chest and felt her hair splayed over his bare skin. Her head rested on his shoulder, and one leg crossed the tops of his thighs.

  He blinked his eyes open to the darkness, and the familiar smell of his home base brought him back from the nightmare.

  The buzzing broke the silence again. A phone. Somewhere on the ground with Connor's discarded pants and the rest of their clothes and shoes.

  Determined not to wake her, he lifted Claire's head gingerly, pulled a pillow underneath, and then pulled the covers up over her naked frame. If it hadn't been for the damn ringing, he could stand in the darkness and watch her sleep for hours.

  "Connor," he answered dryly.

  "You alone?" The familiar voice of Detective Kilpatrick filled his ear.

  "Not entirely. But it's safe to talk."

  "Good." Kilpatrick's voice held an overtone of confidence. "We have an informant. Says he worked on Forge's campaign in Virginia a few years back. He kept the books. Thinks he may have information for the price of a lesser sentence for a crime here in Rebel.

  Connor stepped out of the room into the hallway. "Are you guys willing to make a deal?"

  Silence followed before Kilpatrick answered." The chief really wants to nail this guy good. He's been knocking off small shops and homes in the area for months. I doubt we'll get him to agree to drop anything, but I'm sure if I try hard enough, I can find a few lesser charges to stick him with. Give you some negotiating room."

  "Where is the informant now?"

  "I've got a location for a meet-up. If any of the informant's information is valid, I'll get him into the department."

  "And if it isn't?" Just thinking of the missed opportunity made Connor clench his fists.

  "He wouldn't be willing to stick his neck out this far if he didn't have something on Forge. His life depends on Forge being locked away after ratting him out."

  Kilpatrick continued relaying information about the meeting place, and the stop at the department after and ended the call.

  Left the quiet darkness, Connor sat on the only chair in the kitchen and contemplated making coffee. He wouldn't get back to sleep after Kilpatrick's news, and going back to bed would only disturb Claire. Coffee almost one out until he heard the cot creak and Claire's shadow fell on the far wall.

  "Was that them?" Her voice was low. So low, he almost missed the crack in her words.

  "No," he assured. "A contact of mine."

  Claire's slender frame entered the doorway, and for the first time since meeting her at the fundraising dinner, he realized how oddly suited she was to him. On the short side, and trim, the crown of her head barely reached under his chin, and he was sure he could have her over one shoulder by sweeping one arm behind her knees and lifting.

  An odd thought to have, but it entered his brain when he thought about how they'd been in bed. How perfectly matched they'd been.

  She slid into his lap, facing him, so her cheek pressed into his bare peck, and her ear cupped his nipple.

  A surge of need washed over his body, tightening every muscle, but it wasn't from a desire to take her again, though his body wouldn't take much convincing to act on that impulse. This feeling, deep-rooted and primal, forced a moan deep in Connor's throat. Claire wrapped an arm around his shoulder and brought her legs up to rested on the tops of his.

  He'd rip the throat out of any man who ever harmed her again, and he'd do it barehanded. He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward to rest on the top of hers.

  "There might be a way to bring Forge down," he spoke into her hair. "I'd need your help."

  "Anything," she spoke, her breath brushing across the hairs on his chest like feathers.

  "The
re's a man who worked with Forge in Virginia. He may have some information that could lead to an arrest."

  She nuzzled in closer.

  "I could bring you with me for the paper."

  Claire lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. "If Forge finds out what you are up to--"

  "We both will pay the price." Connor steeled his voice, making it the one and only warning he'd give her. If she chose to join him-- "You'll be putting yourself in Forge's crosshairs, if you're not there already. You'll have to worry about more than just Danny coming after you."

  "I can handle it."

  "Can you?" He brushed loose hair off her forehead. "What happened tonight is the tip of the iceberg."

  "What about you?" Her eyes danced in the darkness.

  "What about me?"

  Her lips curled into a provocative grin. "You aren't planning to leave me to the wolves alone, are you?"

  "I'll still be here, every step of the way, but I don't make promises anymore. If this goes south, I can't promise you won't be affected once you take this step.

  Why was he even considering allowing her to go? He could meet the contact and relay any critical information to her.

  He looked down into those brown eyes staring up at him, and the answer came rushing in. He wanted Claire's trust. Craved it. Desired it more than he desired another round in the bed. But did he deserve it? Would he ever be capable of deserving anyone's trust again after what happened to his fellow soldiers in Baghdad?

  Probably not, and the thought stung, knowing he'd only have her if he had her trust completely.

  Sharing what he knew about Forge was only the beginning of building an assurance Claire could see as genuine. He also had to keep her safe when Forge came for her. And he would come.

  Claire peeled one eye open, confused by a drumming sound only to have her lids shut tight again with the first rays of bright light. She groaned and rolled to her side before realizing the movement had her teetering on the edge of a tiny bed.

  A cot.

  Connor.

  A chill hit her bare shoulder as she adjusted, reminding her that except for the blanket, she was naked.

  "Morning, Sunshine."

  Connor's voice came from somewhere near, but her eyes wouldn't stay open against the harsh light overhead. He placed a mug in her hands.

  Then the smell hit her. Vibrant and bold, roasted and earthy. How had she never realized how intricate the scent of freshly brewed coffee was or how comforting the warmth of a full mug could be in her hands?

  Her eyes opened in small slits, she sipped, then leaned her head back as the first sip ran down her throat and into her empty belly.

  Her empty and naked belly. She laid her warm hand over the small curve of it and breathed in deeply. They didn't use protection, and she hadn't been on the pill in years. Adding a baby to an apartment, she couldn't afford with a job she might lose, and with a man, she barely knew wasn't smart.

  Connor had showered, shaved, and wore a clean black polo and jeans. The smell of his soap hit her nose after the coffee. The sudden desire to snuggle into that smell and forget the world outside the small house almost overtook her.

  "My clothes." The words were muffled in her head, but Connor reached to the floor and came up with her jeans and shirt and a pink lace bra. She'd have to find her panties herself or go commando.

  "I'm leaving to get the car in a few. I'll drive you back to town and drop you for a change of clothes. You should go into work, as usual, to keep suspicion down. Forge still doesn't know it was you Danny met with last night, and we'd like to keep it that way."

  Claire finished pulling her shirt over her head and spotted the panties that matched her bra under Connor's booted foot.

  She eyed him, then glanced down and back up in time to witness the evilest of grins cross his lips.

  "I guess you'll be needing those, won't you?"

  Jeans weren't the softest of fabrics rubbing against her bare core all morning, or she would have ignored him. "Yes."

  Connor reached down and plucked them from under his foot. He held them out on one finger. When Claire reached for them, he quickly pulled away and smiled. "What do I get for handing them over?"

  Claire reached from the bed and grabbed them, but before she could make a getaway, he had her wrist and pulled her into him. Connor dropped his mouth to hers, and she all but melted from the substantial heat radiating off of him.

  "I need to get you back," he spoke into her lips.

  Claire grinned into his mouth. "Only if you have to."

  Connor pulled away and let her lose. "We do. If you want to meet the contact with me tonight, you need to make it seem like you were home last night and have been at work all day. I need to put in an appearance with Forge. We can work the details of the meeting out later."

  "I've got to give something to my editor."

  She slipped into her jeans and top and pulled on her jacket before taking another sip of the coffee Connor brought in a mug.

  "Tell him you're working on a lead. If he pushes, give him my name. If he contacts me, I can keep him occupied until you have something more concrete to pass along."

  Claire waited for Connor to return with the car then sat in near silence on the road back into town. She still had an hour to shower and dress before she had to be at the paper and contemplated asking Connor to stop into Ruby's for breakfast.

  When he pulled up outside her apartment and checked his text while waiting for her to exit, she changed her mind.

  "Bad news?"

  "It's nothing."

  She wasn't buying that by the scowl pulling at his lips. "You'll contact me with the details of the meeting?"

  "As soon as I know anything." He looked up, concern creased the space between his brows. "If you see Danny or any of Forge's men today, you don't engage them alone. Call me first." He pulled a receipt from the cup holder and scribbled a number on the back. "This is my cell. If you can't reach me, Detective Kilpatrick at the PD knows how to get in touch."

  Claire nodded and began to close the door when Connor called her name.

  "Promise me, you won't talk to Forge or his men alone."

  Claire crossed her fingers over her heart. "Girl Scout's Honor. Now, if I don't get a shower, I'll be late to work."

  Connor smiled, and she closed the door. Pride surged through her as she walked the sidewalk, knowing Connor was watching every sway of her hips. She fought the urge to look back and see for herself.

  7

  "So, what is he like?"

  Tate sat behind her desk with the phone behind her ringing off the hook.

  "Shouldn't you get that?" Claire asked, nodding to the buzzing phone.

  Tate shook her head. "They'll call back if it's important. I want details. You haven't been out with a man since you came to Rebel. I want every juicy second of last night in minute detail."

  Telling Tate about Connor had been a mistake. She'd only mentioned him when Tate called her out for coming into the office with a grin and glowing skin. Then she'd asked who the guy was, and Connor's name had rolled off her lips before she could stop herself.

  Five minutes of telling Tate, there wasn't much to say, and she was ready to give in and give the girl every detail she asked for.

  "I've told you everything you're going to get. He's a guy, and we spent the night together. That's it."

  Tate turned in her swivel chair, picked up the phone and told the caller she'd be with them soon before placing them on hold and turning back to Claire. "You're late coming in, and Jacob has been asking about you for two days now. I hope the story you have for him is better than the one you're giving me.

  Before Claire could argue, Tate had turned back to the phone and was directing the caller to the correct department.

  With Tate's attention diverted, Claire took the chance to escape and made it to her cubicle without being noticed by Jacob or any of the other reporters.

  Who was she kidding? Unless she was picking up their
coffee order, they never noticed her anyway.

  She'd just pulled out her laptop and turned it on when her phone buzzed from her bag. She retrieved it and glanced at the screen.

  He's not who you think.

  The number for the text was unlisted. The same message as before, which had turned out to be Danny trying to trap her. She responded with her own text.

  Not funny, Danny.

  She stared at the screen for several seconds, waiting for a reply. When nothing came, she put her phone on her desk and began typing on the piece she'd done about the annual flower show at the civics center and the prize-winning roses that were later auctioned off for money to assist the local food bank. She'd just finished the paragraph about how the community was lucky to have such giving citizens when her phone buzzed twice.

  Two texts. Claire froze, not sure how she felt about another message like the first. Turning the phone over the top notification was a reminder to pick up her monthly allergy medication from the pharmacy.

  Underneath another unlisted number, this one with an attachment. Claire's finger staggered over the screen as a wave of ice-cold anticipation pulsed through her. If she deleted it, she'd never have to deal with whatever news she probably didn't want to know. Then she thought to call Connor and catch him up on the messages. She could open it with him. They'd become like a team over the last hours.

  A team.

  She'd never been a part of a team before. Not since the officers came into her home when she was five and pulled her from her mother's arms.

  Claire sat back in her chair and rubbed her hand over her forehead. Being with Connor had felt wonderful. Warm and safe and a word she couldn't seem to find in her mind but meant the same as protected.

  Yet, she didn't even know him. She'd lived with families for years and was unable to find comfort in their company, but the hours spent over a handful of days and she was ready to bring Connor into her confidence and confide in him how much she needed this story. This win in her life.

  Her phone set on her desk, the red message light mocking her. She should wait. At least call Tate over to witness whatever horror the anonymous texter send next, but curiosity got the better of her, and she clicked the screen.