Some Kind of Hero Page 18

  “I don’t know why they did the things they did, why they made the choices they made. All I can tell you is that I was relieved to know that you didn’t have to grow up with them.”

  “When I first learned I’d been adopted, I just wanted to pretend it wasn’t true,” Riane confessed. “I was happy with the life I have in West Virginia, with my parents.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy,” Arden said sincerely.

  “I’m glad you found me,” Riane told her.

  Arden’s smile was luminous. “Me, too.”

  Somehow Joel found himself back in Riane’s hotel room after driving her home from the barbecue. He had every intention of dropping her at the door, but when she’d looked at him with those big, dark eyes and asked if he wanted to come up for coffee—well, he suddenly had an undeniable craving for coffee.

  Just coffee, he promised himself as Riane dumped the prepackaged grounds into the coffee filter. One cup and then he was out of there. No way could his body survive another night like the last one.

  “Did you have a good time at Arden and Shaun’s?” Joel asked.

  Riane flicked the switch, set the coffee brewing, and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I enjoyed myself,” he told her. And he had, despite the flak he’d taken from Shaun about being the “friend” Riane had invited. Even if he’d known that Shaun would question the relationship between his investigator and his soon-to-be sister-in-law, as he should have, he wouldn’t have refused to go. Riane had needed a friend, and he’d needed to be there for her.

  “The whole family seems very well integrated,” she said.

  Integrated. Joel smiled. “You fit in well with them, too.”

  She seemed surprised, but pleased by his observation. “I liked them. All of them.”

  “Why does that surprise you?”

  “I’ve never made friends easily.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any trouble making the rounds at your charity ball,” he pointed out.

  “That’s different,” she explained. “Most of those people aren’t friends, they’re acquaintances. It’s superficial interaction. It’s harder with people who could really matter.”

  “Why?”

  She turned away as the coffee finished brewing. She poured two cups, passed one to him.

  “I’ve led a pretty sheltered life. It’s not just that my parents were protective, which they were, but I didn’t have much privacy. Every family outing was a media event. As a child I didn’t mind, really, because I didn’t know any different. But as I got older, it made it difficult to cultivate any kind of personal relationships. So I didn’t date much through high school, and never anyone exclusively.

  “I didn’t get my first real taste of freedom until law school. I met Cameron Davis in my first year. He was a year ahead of me—smart, popular, incredibly sexy.”

  “Feel free to edit out any unnecessary details,” Joel interrupted dryly.

  Riane smiled. “Well, he was. He was the kind of guy every girl wanted to date—and he wanted to date me. I was twenty years old at the time—probably the oldest living American virgin, and determined to change that status.

  “And then I found out…I’m still not sure whether or not it was deliberate, but my roommate let it slip that Cameron wanted to get naked pictures of me to sell to the tabloids.”

  Joel felt all the protective instincts he’d never known he had stir to life inside him.

  “He’d never really been interested in me.” Riane plunged ahead with the story, but he could tell she was still hurt by this betrayal. “He just wanted to take advantage of who I was to make a quick buck.”

  “He didn’t deserve you,” Joel told her.

  “I know that now,” she agreed. “At the time, though, I was hurt. Angry. Humiliated. I couldn’t believe that I’d been so naive. And I was horrified to think how devastating that could have been to my mother’s career. I decided, then and there, that if I was ever going to become involved with someone else, it would have to be someone with a similar background and similar interests.

  “That same year, when I came home for Christmas vacation, I met Stuart. He was everything Cameron wasn’t. He didn’t sweep me off my feet or fulfill any kind of romantic fantasies, but I wasn’t looking for anything like that after my recent relationship disaster.”

  Joel shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to hear the details of her relationship with Stuart Etherington III, but for some reason she felt compelled to share them.

  “We started dating. Stuart took me to the finest restaurants and private showings at art galleries and opening nights at the theater. We had a lot in common despite the age difference, and there were no sloppy kisses, no groping, no pressure. There was also no excitement or spontaneity, but I didn’t mind.

  “And then I met you,” Riane said. “And I realized that kisses didn’t have to be sloppy, touching wasn’t always groping, and I knew that I wanted something more than what I’d previously been willing to settle for.”

  She lifted her cup to her lips, sipped. “In some ways, finding out that I’m not the biological daughter of Ryan and Ellen Quinlan has been liberating. It’s given me the courage and freedom to think about what I want instead of worrying about how my actions will affect anyone else. I want something for me.”

  He nodded, still not certain where she was going with this conversation.

  “I want to make love with you.”

  He was glad he was already sitting down, because he was pretty sure that statement would have knocked him over.

  “If you’re not interested,” she continued hurriedly, “that’s okay. But you indicated that you might be, so I thought that if you were…interested, that is, maybe we could…you know.”

  Oh, yeah. He knew. He’d spent far too much time over the past few days fantasizing about what it would be like to make love with Riane. Wishing he’d never walked out of that motel room.

  Now he was in her hotel room, and she was looking at him with those deep brown eyes, telling him he didn’t have to walk away. She was offering him everything he wanted. And still something made him hesitate.

  “It’s not that I’m not interested, Riane.”

  “But?”

  “But you’ve just come out of a long-term relationship and—”

  “Stuart and I never had sex.”

  “You—what?” He couldn’t believe what she was saying. He knew that she and Stuart had dated for more than three years, they’d talked about getting married. How was it possible that he’d—that they’d—never?

  Christ, what was wrong with the guy? He cleared his throat. “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “He said he was willing to wait until we were married, if that’s what I wanted.”

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  She shrugged again. “I didn’t have strong feelings one way or the other.” She hesitated, then said, “He didn’t make me feel the way you make me feel.”

  It was her unflinching honesty that undid him. “Don’t tell me things like that, sweetheart,” Joel practically groaned.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m trying very hard to be noble here, to do the right thing, and you’re not making that easy for me.”

  “What do you think is the right thing?”

  “Getting out of here before I take you up on that offer.”

  “I know what I want, Joel. And I want to make love with you.”

  She’d said she wanted to get rid of her virginity with Cameron, although she hadn’t followed through with it. And she said she’d never slept with Stuart. Somehow he didn’t think she’d been having sex with anyone other than her boyfriend, but he needed to know for sure.

  “Have you ever, um, been with a man before?”

  Her cheeks flushed with color; she shook her head.

  A virgin.

  He couldn’t get his mind past those two words. His brain simply refused to compute anything else. He didn’t believe it.

&
nbsp; She was twenty-four years old, sexy, sophisticated. There was no way— And yet, he knew it was true. In fact, it explained a lot of things. The intriguing contrast between her hesitation and eagerness, the honesty and uncertainty in her responses to his touch. But there was still one question unanswered.

  “Why me?”

  “Because I thought if I was finally going to be with someone, it should be someone I trust. You know me, Joel. You know everything there is to know about me, and you’re not impressed by who I am or appalled by the details of my life.”

  She lifted her chin, met his gaze directly. “So the only question now is, do you want me?”

  Chapter 13

  I t took every ounce of willpower Riane had to stand her ground and meet Joel’s gaze as she asked him that question. Or maybe she was just too paralyzed with fear to move. What if he said no? What if he turned her away—again?

  She couldn’t bear another rejection. Not from Joel. Not when she wanted him with a depth of desire that seemed to obliterate all else. She didn’t quite understand how it was that her body could so desperately crave something it had never known, all she knew was that when she was with Joel, she wanted him.

  “Do I want you?” Joel repeated the question slowly. Then he set his coffee down and stood up.

  Riane was rooted to the floor. He took a step toward her. Her breath backed up in her lungs. He reached out and pried her mug from nervous fingers, set it aside. Then he cupped her cheek in his palm, stroked his thumb over the curve of her lips.

  “Only more than I want to breathe,” he said softly.

  Riane let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and managed a tremulous smile.

  “I want you so much it scares me,” he admitted. “Especially now, knowing that you’ve never been with anyone else. I want to touch you, every inch of you, but I’m so afraid of hurting you.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she told him. And she wasn’t. Somehow she knew that everything would be okay because she was with Joel.

  But Joel still looked as if he needed some convincing, so she rose onto her toes and touched her lips to his.

  She wasn’t prepared for the wealth of emotions she felt as he took control of the kiss, his mouth moving over hers with masterful purpose, his hands stroking over her body in lazy seduction. No one had ever touched her the way Joel touched her. With every brush of his lips, every caress of his fingertips, she felt cherished.

  She didn’t really have any expectations about making love. When she’d lived in the dorm, she’d heard other women compare horror stories about their “first time.” The one common thread was that it was painful and generally quick. She was prepared for that.

  And she thought that once the decision had been made, they’d take off their clothes and go to it. Joel had other ideas.

  He did take off her clothes, but there was no haste. Instead, he stripped her garments away with painstaking slowness. First her blouse, lingering over each button, drawing out her anticipation, his eyes never leaving hers. His so dark and intense it made her breath catch in her throat. But breathing didn’t seem to matter anymore. Nothing mattered but experiencing the moment, being with this man.

  When all the buttons were undone, he slid his hands inside. His fingers skimmed over her collarbone, sending tingles of awareness, currents of desire, through her veins. Anticipation continued to build inside her, crowding out the last remnants of anxiety, any lingering vestige of uncertainty.

  He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, slid it slowly down her arms. Then he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a kiss that she wished would just go on and on forever. His lips were firm and warm, moving over hers with seductive expertise. Her own parted on a sigh, and his tongue slipped inside and mingled with hers. Riane threaded her fingers through the thick silky hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, closer.

  So captivated was she by his kiss that she didn’t realized he’d unfastened the clip of her bra until she felt his palm skim up her rib cage to the curve of her breast. Instinctively she arched toward him. His thumb brushed over the distended nipple, and she gasped at the shock of pleasure.

  He found the zipper at the back of her pants and slid it down slowly, his fingertips skimming over her buttocks. Then the fabric pooled at her feet and his hands were on the backs of her thighs, moving upward again in a teasing caress that simply melted her bones.

  As if sensing her complete and unconditional surrender, he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He laid her on top of the mattress and disposed of her panties.

  Suddenly she was aware of her nakedness, self-conscious. She tried to pull the spread to cover her, but Joel stopped her. His eyes raked over her, appraising, approving. “You’re so beautiful.”

  The husky tone of his voice convinced her that he believed it. And she felt beautiful. Desirable. Desired.

  She lifted her arms in silent invitation, and he lowered himself onto the bed. His mouth found hers again, his kiss deeper now, hungrier. She shifted her hips, positioning him at the juncture of her thighs. Joel groaned against her lips, and his hands found her hips, stilling their instinctive movements.

  “I’m trying to take my time.”

  “I don’t want you to take your time. I want to feel you inside me.”

  “We’ll get there,” he promised her. “Eventually.”

  “Now.” She wasn’t sure how much longer she could endure the torturous teasing. She was assailed by so many sensations she thought her system was just going to explode. There was an unfamiliar tightness coiling in the pit of her belly, seeking release, demanding fulfillment.

  He chuckled softly. “Let’s do this my way, this time.”

  This time.

  She liked the sound of that. She wanted to believe that they would be together like this again. That they could have more than one night.

  So she let him have his way, and she had absolutely no regrets. His hands were relentless on her body, stoking the fire that burned inside her. He left no inch of her skin untouched, his lips following the path that his fingertips had traced on her skin until she practically wept with the urgent need to mate her body with his. When Joel’s teeth closed over her nipple, his tongue swirling around it, her release came. Hot and fast, it left her gasping and breathless and completely confused. She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected anything like it. And already the anticipation was building inside her again, and she wanted more.

  “Joel. Please.” She could feel the wet heat between her thighs, the throbbing ache. The emptiness she needed him to fill, the pressure only he could release.

  But he wouldn’t be hurried, and she was stunned to realize how much more he could coax from her body. How much more she could give. It seemed like an eternity before he stripped off the rest of his clothes. He took a condom out of his wallet and sheathed himself. Riane had given absolutely no thought to protection and was grateful that he’d done so.

  When she felt him part her thighs with his knee, she thought, Now. Finally now.

  But he didn’t immediately rise over her, thrust into her. Instead he drove her up again, higher even than before, and she was still quivering with the aftershocks of her climax when he slipped inside her. Her body was more than ready for the intrusion, aching for the fulfillment. There was a brief—almost imperceptible—stab of pain. She tightened instinctively, and Joel stopped moving, but the pain was already gone, the pleasure overwhelming all else.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, holding himself immobile over her.

  She lifted her hips off the mattress, pulling him deeper inside, and heard him groan. She smiled. “Much better than okay.”

  Then he was moving inside her, long, steady strokes that seemed to touch the very center of her soul. And as her body stretched to accommodate his movements, she felt her heart expanding, too, and taking him inside.

  The simple beauty of their joining stunned her, and she wished she could just hold on to the moment forever. T
hen his movements quickened and his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster. Tension coiled inside her; sensation layered upon sensation. And suddenly everything exploded in a shower of heat and light and so much pleasure she wasn’t sure she could stand it.

  She screamed out with her release, shocked less by the wanton cry emanating from her throat than by the violent shudders that racked her body. Joel’s mouth fused with hers, swallowing her cries. And he leaped with her.

  When their lovemaking was completed, she was afraid. Afraid of feeling so much more than she ever thought she could; afraid of losing her heart to this man who she couldn’t ever hope to hold on to.

  Joel eased his body slowly from hers and back onto the mattress, tucking her close to his side. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

  She nodded and snuggled contentedly against him, determined not to think about anything but the here and now. “I never expected…so much.”

  “I wanted to make sure there was pleasure before the pain,” he told her.

  She smiled. There had been so much pleasure she couldn’t remember anything else.

  “Is it always like that?” she asked, still awed by the whole experience.

  He laid his hand on her cheek, gently stroked his thumb over her skin. His eyes were dark, serious. “No.”

  She frowned, uncertain how to interpret his response.

  “But sometimes, if you’re very lucky, it can be that good.”

  Her relief must have shown, because he chuckled softly.

  “Of course, that might have been an anomaly. The only way we’ll know for certain is if we try it again.”

  Then he proceeded to prove to her that it wasn’t an anomaly at all.

  Having accepted his departure from the police force and the failure of his marriage, Joel had built a new life for himself. A new career in a new city. And he’d been content. He hadn’t thought anything was missing—until he’d met Riane.

  When he awoke in Riane’s bed, her body nestled close to his, he felt his heart swell with a feeling of such profound contentment and inexplicable happiness it stunned him for a moment. And that was when he realized he’d done something he thought he’d never do: he’d fallen in love.