Page 53 of The Survivor
The tears finally started to fall, streaming down her cheeks until her eyes felt swollen and her skin was raw. She yearned to go downstairs and find warmth and solace in Blake’s arms, but tonight it had become clear that he wasn’t emotionally available to her. A part of her would forever be grateful to him, for helping her reclaim her womanhood, for showing her that a man’s touch could evoke something other than fear inside her. But a physical connection wasn’t enough for her.
She wanted all the things she’d almost lost because of the attack. Love. Passion. Companionship. Family.
Blake couldn’t give her that.
No, Blakewouldn’tgive her that.
And as devastating as it was, better he’d told her sooner than later. Better he’d told her before she did something foolish.
Like fall in love with him.
* * *
“I made some coffee,” Blake said when Sam walked into the kitchen the next morning. Even to his own ears his voice sounded overly cheerful, as if a friendly tone and a pleasant smile could erase what had happened between them last night.
“Thanks.” She didn’t return the smile. Just rounded the counter and poured herself some coffee.
She wore a black turtleneck that hugged her full breasts and a pair of tight black jeans that made her long legs seem endless. The all-black getup made her appear incredibly sophisticated. With it she looked like she belonged on a sidewalk in Manhattan, with a steaming Starbucks cup in a gloved hand as she swayed those sexy hips over to a modeling session. Hands down she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and the sight of her, distant gray eyes and all, sent doubt spiraling through him.
The words he’d said to her yesterday circled his brain like a hungry turkey vulture and made him crazy with uncertainty. It was for the best, wasn’t it? Telling Sam their affair would have to end was something that needed to be done. And he’d meant what he said. She deserved far more than he could give her.
However, that didn’t stop his chest from feeling like it had been scraped raw, or his throat from clogging when he looked at her achingly gorgeous face and stared at those lush lips he wanted more than anything to kiss.
She’d slept in the guest room last night. He knew it shouldn’t bother him, but it did. He wished they’d shared the same bed, wished he could’ve made love to her again and held her as she’d slept.
What he wished the most was that he could give her the life she deserved, the life she’dearned.
But he couldn’t. He had no plans to quit his job, and even if he were willing to allow Sam to live with the risks his careerposed, he hadn’t been lying when he told her he didn’t feel whole. He’d taken the Rose Killer case to make him forget about Kate’s death, but he hadn’t forgotten. It wasn’t fair to force Sam to share that burden with him. Letting go of the guilt was something he needed to do alone.
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Sam asked, her tone both cool and controlled. “Do you have that task force meeting to go to?”
He nodded. “Fantana’s team has been working overtime to follow up on the possible florist link. I haven’t heard from Rick, but I’m hoping they made some headway.”
On cue, his cell phone began to chirp.
Sam raised a brow. “Maybe they have.”
He flipped open the phone, saw Rick’s number on the screen, and answered. “Please tell me we’ve got a lead.”
Rick’s pause was so brief nobody else would’ve read anything into it, but Blake knew his partner well and that tiny pause immediately caused his features to strain. “What’s going on?”
Rick spoke.
Blake listened.
He felt the blood slowly drain out of his face, knew his complexion must have gone pale, and he quickly turned away so Sam wouldn’t see it.
He didn’t turn fast enough. The second he hung up the phone Sam was in front of him, coffee abandoned, expression creased with worry. “What happened?” she demanded.
He fought the nausea. Swallowed against it. Inhaled deeply.
He didn’t have to tell her. Looking at her concerned face, he knew he could spare her from this. Shrug it off, assure her all was well in the world, and allow her to continue healing without the added burden. How many more burdens would she able to carry? He’d seen how the flower delivery had shaken her up, and this…Christ, this would send her tumbling right over the edge.
She didn’t need to hear it. It didn’t affect her. It didn’thaveto affect her.
It affects her, you insensitive ass!
He almost keeled over at the sound of Kate’s voice in his head.
