Page 18 of Devoted

Silvana shakes his head. "Now, where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, your partner. You guys sure thinkalike."

Just his mention of my partner tugs at my heart. I try to avoid thinking about the strain between Maddox and me. When I get mired in it, I find myself tumbling intodepression.

Silvana reaches over and pats my hand. "Hang in there. You two will be fine. There's just too much between you for you not to come out rosy and happy in theend."

"Unfortunately it's that long history between us that seems to be getting in the way. But thanks for the pep talk. It's just what I needed. Along with this glazed beauty." I pick up anotherdonut.

"Well, I should head back to the city and get to work. Do you need anythingelse?"

"No, I think I'll shower and sit down at the computer." I pat the list of names. "You've got my curiosity gears turning. And don't worry, I won't mention it to Clark orMaddox."

Silvana's face droops with concern as he glances at the paper. "Don't do it unless you're really ready, Ten. I mean, what do I know? Maybe finding out about the guy will only make it harder for you. I'd hate tothink—"

I stand up and hug him. "Give yourself credit for knowing stuff, Silvana. O.K.? You're a smartguy."

I walk him to the door. He stops and his face drops in thought. "I don't know if I've ever told you thank you, Ten." He looks back at me. "When I arrived at the precinct." His shoulders shrug lightly. "The story of my accidentally shooting my partner in the foot preceded me. I was a joke before I even got there. And everyone let me know it too. But not you. I walked into the lunch room on that first day. The other guys made it clear that I was not welcome at their table." He smiles. "You were eating a taco that you had stuffed with French fries and I remember thinking—now that is a damn fine way to eat a taco. When you pushed out a chair and called me over to sit . . ." His words choke off and he nods instead of finishing. He takes a deep breath. "I better get going. I'll call you if I find out anythinginteresting."

"Perfect." I watch him walk to his car. I wave and he smiles broadly back at me before I close thedoor.

12

Angie

The laptop is beckoningme but I decide to sit outside and feed the seagulls my leftover sandwich. While Silvana and I discussed it, my confidence that I could handle doing research on Kane Freestone was at its peak. But after a shower, a nap and a good hour sinking into a blue mood, my confidencedisappeared.

A large group of gulls are huddled near the shoreline as I walk out with my leftover cheese sandwich. They don't even notice me. It seems my bird feeding idea is a failure until I break off a piece of the crust. One bird in the bunch, apparently one with super seagull hearing, pops his gray head up from the crouched mass of birds. His bright orange beak points my direction like a weather vane on a windy day. I toss the bread onto the sand and all hell breaks loose. A hurricane of gray and white feathers follows an orchestra of high, excited screeches. Suddenly I'm in the scene from a Hitchcockmovie.

The earlier vision of me sitting calmly on the railroad ties gently tossing teeny morsels of food to polite, well-mannered birds is obliterated. Two of the birds hover just inches from my head. I scream and toss the entire sandwich toward the frenzied mass. Two birds dive past me. One grazes the top of my head. I scream again and step back so quickly, I stumble over the railroad ties. I close my eyes and brace for landing hard on the sand. Instead, arms catchme.

I spin out of Maddox's arms. He's dressed in a suit for court day, but he's taken off the tie and unbuttoned the topbutton.

"Guess the bird population started a revolution, eh?" He walks forward and shoos some of the more persistentones.

"I made the mistake of feedingthem."

Maddox turns back to look at me. With the coastal scenery behind him, it's hard not to just stare and take a deep, dreamybreath.

"Look at you all gussied up for court." I jump immediately into my teasing, sarcastic partner mode not knowing how to behave like the woman who loves him. "Must have been a shorttrial."

"It's that Dixon case. The woman we busted for selling crack out of the back of her Volvo near the park. The public defender for the case was so unorganized and unprepared, the judge ripped him a new asshole and called for a delay until he could get his shit together. So I find myself gussied up and looking like a store mannequin with nothing to do. Thought I'd come here in case you needed rescuing from rogue seagulls. Which you did. So good call, Iguess."

We head inside. When we ignored the other side of our relationship, the one that sort of seeped out when neither of us was paying attention or planning on it, we could talk like two best friends. Sometimes, that's what I needed from him more than anything else. I just needed the guy who I could talk to about any damn thing and know if nothing else, he'd at least belistening.

Maddox pulls his coat off and turns to drop it over the chair. The white dress shirt reminds me of Kane. His broad shoulders always strained the fabric of the shirt too. But Kane's posture was always rigid and hard, like the man himself. Maddox is far more relaxed, more comfortable in his own skin. It's one of the many things I love abouthim.

"Are you hungry?" I ask. "Silvana brought some donuts. I've managed to only eat half of them. My self-control is like a bar of unbendablesteel."

He laughs. It's a sound I've missed. "I'm good. I ate earlier." He sits on the couch and rolls up his sleeves the way Kane used to just before he'd invite me to sit naked on his lap. Like a man who was about to get down to some serious work of pleasuring me. Watching Maddox do it, sends hot pulses through my pussy. Aside from one crazed moment when Maddox held my wrists, prompting a sexual memory of the leather cuffs, a moment when I wasn't in my right mind and still wound tight from withdrawal, it's the first time I've felt aroused since coming off the nectar. There were times during my stay in the rehab facility when I wondered if I would ever feel excited again. It occurred to me that the prolonged state of arousal and hurricane of orgasms provided by Kane's special drug had drained me sexually. I worried that I'd been so sexually spent I could no longer feel desire, even for Maddox, a man I'd spent countless hours fantasizing about. I'm so relieved to feel the surge of heat between my legs, my eyes ache withtears.

"What's wrong?" heasks.

I whisk away the emotional moment. "Nothing. You look pretty damn heartbreaking in a dress shirt. That'sall."

"So I've been told." He pats the couch next tohim.

I sit down, primly, trying hard to ignore the sudden ache in my pussy. When he reaches over and takes my hand, I practically melt into the cushions. My breathing has sped up. All I can think about is his hand tucked between my thighs. The nectar is out of my bloodstream but it seems as if the memory of it, the memory of being taken to the height of pleasure again and again has been lodged permanently in my mind. I know now what my body is capable of and I want to feel the explosion of physical sensations again. But this is not Kane sitting next to me, plotting out his next highly sexual move. My body is no longer coursing with the drug that made me physically and mentally liquid with arousal. This feels entirely different. It's far more real. It comes with much more emotional investment and risk. I've dated plenty of men but never one who I actuallyloved.

Maddox stretches his long legs out, giving the coffee table a nudge. As he leans back against the couch cushions, he reaches up with his free hand and rakes his fingers through his thick hair. The muscles of his strong forearm twist and turn with the movement. There are no scars. The eight deep gashes that marred Kane's forearms are missing. The sight of Maddox's scar free arm is a splash of cold water. Were the earlier sensations, the instant, intense feeling of desire purely because the rolled sleeves reminded me of Kane? A sickening feeling creeps through me. Did Kane still have some kind of hold on me? I know deep in my soul that I want nothing more than the genuine, amazing man sitting next to me, but it seems I'm still connected to Kane. He has invaded me physically and mentally in every possible way. Even though his insidiously genius drug has left my system, there is still aconnection.

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