Page 105 of The Rogue

That was like a glass shard cutting his chest. It was painful. Damn, it was painful.

Because sometimes he thought she was right. That had been the best. He had wanted the real best for her. With someone else. He had been sure that was the only way she could get it, and then he had let her down.

And now she didn’t have what she deserved and...

Everything hurt. It just hurt.

But dinner started to come out, and they talked about that. The food in front of them. And he watched the candlelight flicker over her face, and he knew without a doubt this was better than their barn Christmas, it contained more magic than any holiday ever could. Looking at her by candlelight, at the beautiful woman she’d become. Knowing that he was going to touch her later. Kiss her.

“I still have that necklace, you know,” she said. His eyes flicked down to the blue stone she was wearing.

“Not that one,” she said. “The Christmas present. It’s in my Justice box.”

“What’s that?”

“My box. Of everything you’ve ever given me.”

Everythinghe’d ever given her? All contained in one place? Kept. Treasured.

He gritted his teeth. But it was a damned thing to realize in that moment that no one had ever loved him half so well as Rue Matthews. They had wonderful bread and filet mignon, perfect mashed potatoes and the best cheesecake he’d ever had in his life.

But he could remember other meals with her, other times. When they’d cobbled together cheese and crackers and huddled in her room, or in the barn.

The past and the present had never existed quite so intensely together, that necklace she wore shifting between the blue stone and that sea glass.

And when they were through, they went back to the room, and she closed the door behind them. She reached behind her back and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to her hips. The breath got sucked from his lungs. The lingerie she was wearing was...

“You gotta warn a man,” he said as she took the rest of it off, her gorgeous breasts just barely covered by two silky strips of black fabric that created a V down between her legs, dipping dangerously low, barely offering coverage. “I’m liable to have a heart attack.”

“Don’t be dead, Justice,” she said, her eyes sparkling with need and humor. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

They had two days left of this. This was his present for all the bullshit he’d endured in his life up till now, and he was set on unwrapping it.

Two days.

He took her into his arms and kissed her. Moved his hands reverently over the curves of her body, then kissed her mouth sweet and slow.

He had never wanted to find the reverence at the center of his own debauchery quite so much. But he wanted to give her both. The profane and the righteous, because this was real, and it came from deep inside of him. And if they were this close to going back to not being able to touch each other like this then this had to be special.

He was good at living in the moment. He was not good at facing the reality of losing something he caredabout. And he did care about this. This new dimension of their relationship, not just because it felt good, but because...

He didn’t let himself think anymore. He just kissed her, touched her, lost himself in her. Over and over again until she cried out his name.

He had said to her once that the women he was with didn’t do that, because they usually didn’t know who he was. But she did. And he knew her. Across time. Across dreams and fears. He knew her.

Not just her name, but the substance of who she was.

They had made love countless times this week, and he realized that after the first time it hadn’t been about helping her let go, because she simply had. She had held on to him and let go, and every time it was like that. Every time, it was just that real. Just that perfect.

And this time, when he gave himself over to his pleasure, he said her name too.

She held them, brushing his hair back from his face. “This isn’t done, you know that,” she said softly.

“What?”

“When we get back. I’ve been thinking this from the beginning. But trying not to think about it, you know? You can’t unhammer a nail.”

He closed his eyes. “Okay. So what does that look like?”

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