each room was a restful den, made it a home, not merely a house. âItâs not the house.â
âThe village then.â His gun hand flexed. He wouldnât let her go. âYou feel isolated.â
âNo, itâs not Wintergreen.â How could she resent a place where everyone knew her and treated her like a friend? If she wanted a taste of the city, Keene, Nashua, Manchester werenât that far. Even Boston was only a few hours away. She straightened against the stone wall and hugged herself tighter.
He stopped, let his head drop to his chest, then blazed her with a look of such sadness she nearly closed the distance between them to comfort him. âIâm sorry I canât give you the baby you want.â
That was a tiny bit closer to the truth. Without that common goal, the wall between them seemed to get thicker. But a baby wouldnât fix the hollowness growing inside her. Until Sebastian trusted her with all of himself, a baby would only complicate the situation. âItâs not the baby.â
He took another step. They stood close enough for breath to mix with breath. He knew her weakness and was going to use it against her. âThen what is it, Olivia?â The reverberation of his voice was cat smooth and cougar dangerous. âHelp me out here. I donât understand.â
Then she made her second mistake. She touched him. Just a whisper of finger against the roughness of his beard. The heat of it shivered through her. The want, the need. His. Hers. âItâs the waiting and the worrying. Itâs killing me.â
âItâs my job.â
âI know.â And she did. She understood how his parentsâ murder at the hands of an escaped convict had driven him into the U.S. Marshals Service. She understood his need to hunt criminals and put them back in jail where they couldnât hurt anyone but themselves. She understood his need to leave her for long periods of time to do his work. He was the best manhunter in the Service, and his duty to the Service always came first.
And that simple little jealousy made her feel petty. How could she ask him to stay when what he did was so important? Why did he insist on shutting her out of the most important part of his life?
âBut I want to share it.â
He frowned. âWeâve been through this before.â
âI know.â And gotten nowhere. She wanted him in her life, of that she was sure. But she needed the balance to shift. She didnât want to simply be his haven. She wanted to be his partner. This course was the first concrete step to that partnership. âYouâre so strong. And Iâmâ¦â She shook her head. âI need to find my strength.â
âYou are my strength, Olivia. Donât leave. Not tonight.â
He reached for her, eyes bright with that potent mixture of desire and danger that never failed to arouse her, and a small helpless cry escaped her. No, donât touch me. Iâll give in. She could feel her body responding to his before heâd even finished wrapping his arms around her. He held her tight. She tried to push him back, but when it came to Sebastian, she was weak.
He was passionate about everything he did. And that passion, she was loathe to admit, was part of her attraction to him. The aura of intensity around him acted as an aphrodisiac for someone unsure of her place in the world. The bad-boy looks on a man who hunted for justice had made her believe that, at his side, she could find herself. And each time he touched her, she believed it againâuntil he left.
His chin snuggled against the top of her head. The strong beat of his heart drummed beneath her hands. His heat seemed to fuse her to him. She could start a day late. She could leave tomorrowâafter this storm of return. Maybe heâd understand then. Maybe she could tell him that her need to leave was like his need to decompress before he came to her when he returned from a hunt. Something that was temporary, but necessary.
âI love you, Olivia.â
âI know.â And the slow melting started. It shimmered from her heart towards her limbs and left her limp. She twined her arms around his neck to hold herself up and accepted the brand of his kiss. The searing heat of it, the desperate need in it, erased the boundaries between them. The savage taste of him filled her. The scent of him, so primal, so Sebastian, dissolved her will. She could feel herself slipping away, and her desire suddenly tasted salty with tears. âLet me go, Sebastian. For a little while.â
âStay. Iâll take some time off. Weâll go away somewhere together. No beeper. No phone. No computer. I promise.â
âUntil the next prisoner escapes.â
He opened his mouth to answer. She covered his lips with a finger. He took the offending digit into his mouth and gently sucked.
âItâs not you.â As his hands slid up her sides, she tried to catch her breath and put some space between them and found her hands mirroring his, seeking the firm skin beneath his shirt. âItâs me. I needâ¦â
âWhat?â His thumb skimmed a nipple, drawing a gasp from her.
âSebastianâ¦â
As he continued his exquisite torture of her flesh with his hands, his mouth found the tender spot behind her ear, clouding her mind. âWhat do you need?â
âMore. I need more.â She crushed herself against him to gain focus, only to lose it again when his fingers rounded her waist and stroked the sensitive hollow at the base of her spine. âLet me go, Sebastian.â
The sudden stillness in him was more frightening than the seduction she couldnât resist. But before he could say anything, the beeper on his desk shrilled.
âAnswer it,â she said, as the invisible web making them one separated strand by strand. âYou know you have to.â When they stood apart, an aching cold made her shiver. Why had she done this? Why had she hurt him? Why was she risking the love of the one person who made her feel secure?
Because the next time that phone rang, she wanted him to talk to her about the coming hunt and not shut her out. She wanted him to know she truly understood his job, him.
He stalked to the phone and ripped the receiver off the cradle. Punching in numbers, he stared pointedly at her. She memorized the lines of his faceâthe sharp jaw, the thin nose, the full lower lip, the cleft in his chin, the upside-down V his work had creased between his eyes, the dark shadow of beard that he could never quite seem to get rid of no matter how often he shaved, the clean cut of his straight black hair. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. She licked her lips and imprinted his taste.
âFalconer,â he barked into the phone.
She opened her eyes, blinked as if taking a last picture, then turned toward the steps. She wanted to stay. She had to go. Her heart suddenly weighed heavily with the contradiction of her needs.
âOlivia! Wait.â
But she couldnât. She was leaving because sheâd nearly lost herself in him again. When she was stronger, when she was his equal, when she could stand solidly beside him without
