Driven by Fire(112)

By: Anne Stuart

“You think? So fucking indulge me. What am I being obtuse about?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m in love with you. I’m not even sure I believe love exists, but if it does I’m in it with you, and I’ve given up fighting. You may as well give up too. Love doesn’t seem to respond to common sense and conventional wisdom.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “I gave up long ago,” she said simply, half afraid to admit it.

“Gave up what?” he said warily, as if he wasn’t sure he could believe her words.

“Gave up fighting it.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “Let’s face it—you’re hot. And you save my life, over and over again, you utterly destroy me when we make love, and . . . and I trust you. You’re a good man, whether you believe it or not, and I love you.”

His smile widened as he shook his head. “This isn’t Romeo and Juliet.”

“I don’t want it to be. They died. We’re going to live.”

He kissed her then, sliding his hand behind her neck to bring her mouth to his, and she let herself sink into it, into him, so there was nothing but his mouth, his body hard beneath hers, his rock-solid arms holding her, and when he used his tongue she felt the wet hot lick of desire wash through her, as life filled her veins once more.

She pushed back from him, breaking the kiss. “You don’t have to love me, you know,” she said, suddenly guilty. “I’m not always this pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic at all. And yes, I have to love you. I’ve given up fighting it. Now why don’t you curl up and get some sleep while I get back on the highway. The Louisiana State Police are broad-minded, but it’s still daylight and I don’t think they’d overlook roadside sex. Don’t worry—I’ll wake you when we find a bed.”

Another knot of hope and desire turned inside her. “But what about your work?”

“Remy can take care of the Committee—I’m long overdue for a vacation, and my partner Bishop can get his ass back from his honeymoon. We’re going to drive until we feel like stopping, and then drive some more.”

“And when we stop?”

“We’ll fuck like rabbits. Does that suit you?”

“Yes,” she said, slipping back into the passenger seat with a shaky sigh. “And I promise not to cry anymore.”

“You can cry all you want. It’s hard to lose a family.”

“Not when you’ve found your real one,” she said.

He kissed her again, short and hard. “Remember that.”

He pulled out onto the highway again, catching her hand in his strong one as they headed west into the setting sun.

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