Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set(135)

“Did it work?” Something about the hesitancy in his voice spoke to her. They’d been dancing around each other all night and for what? They understood each other too well, knew each other’s deepest fears.

They knew the end was coming.

“It would have worked without the sweet talk,” she murmured, grasping his face in both hands.

The kiss that came next was anything but sweet; in fact, hot was the only word that came to Carly’s mind before she became so engulfed with Mike that she didn’t want to think at all. She locked her leg around his ankle, securing him against her. The ridge of his arousal was firm and hard against her stomach and his warm breath fanned her neck as he trailed wet, seductive kisses down her collarbone. Cool air drifted over her damp skin, increasing the power of her desire.

He dipped the strap of her dress down over one shoulder and edged a fingertip above the swell of her breast. She exhaled, but a slow moan escaped instead. She anticipated his hot mouth on her breast, wanted his heated touch more than she wanted her next breath. And if the glazed but intense look in his eyes was any indication, she’d have it too. Carly closed her eyes, waiting, wanting...

A car horn honked and loud laughter sounded behind them. “Go for it, man.” A group of rowdy teenagers waved and gunned the engine, leaving dust in their wake.

“You sure you want to keep giving kids like that a helping hand?” Mike muttered. He leaned his head against hers, his breathing coming in harsh, labored gasps.

Carly wanted to be mortified, but she couldn’t suppress a laugh instead. “It’s either that or let them out on their own...”

He shook his head. “Carly...” His husky voice held promise.

The dead silence of the night surrounded them. Her pulse beat faster as she answered his unspoken question by placing her hand inside his. “Let’s go home.”

Minutes later they entered the house. By unspoken agreement, she followed him toward his room. The blinking light on the answering machine in the family room stopped her and she paused. Carly hit the play button.

She didn’t recognize the voice. She knew she wouldn’t. Yet as soon as the deep baritone sounded in the empty room, she wished she could hit rewind, or turn back the clock. Somehow, she knew.

And when Mike’s hand went to his bad shoulder, her fears were confirmed. Pain sliced through her as the message wound its way to completion. “Relaxation time’s over. We could use you on assignment. Same place, different setup. Pack your bags and get the first flight out, buddy. It’s time to move on.”


* * *

Carly stood behind him. Bracing himself, Mike turned to face her. Moonlight filtered in through an open window, illuminating an otherwise dark room. Her eyes had taken on the bleak, haunted look he had seen earlier. To her credit, though, her shoulders were squared as she tried to look unaffected. Too bad he wasn’t buying the act.

The time had come sooner than he had planned. Leaving her would be next to impossible, but he had no choice. He wondered if she would beg him to stay. Part of him longed for that security while another dreaded the confrontation.

He almost laughed aloud. For a moment he had forgotten her feelings about their relationship. She might just welcome his departure. His entire body turned cold at the thought.

“Mike?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

“What?”

“I have one favor to ask.”

“Okay, but I can’t promise anything.” No matter how much he wanted to.

“This you can.”

“What is it?”

Tears shimmered in her dark eyes. “Don’t wake me to say good-bye.”

She should have begged him to stay. That and a body blow would have been less painful than the plaintive but resigned note in Carly’s voice. She was going to let him go. Mike thought he had been prepared.

He had been wrong. “Sit down.” Pausing to flick on a lamp, he prodded her toward the living room couch.

He dropped onto the soft cushion and patted the empty space next to him. She sat. But her silence unnerved him more than any hysterical scene.

“Tell me about the sections of your book,” he said.

“What?” Startled, she looked up at him.

He cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. “We have tonight.”

“And you want to spend it talking about my book?” She blinked and a lone teardrop leaked down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, pausing to lick the salt off his finger.

“I want to spend it with you. In case you don’t realize it, sex isn’t the only thing between us.” He couldn’t leave letting her believe he cared only for the good time they’d had in bed. Given her inherent fear, the possibility shook him to the core. So he would spend what little time they had left condensing a few more weeks of intimate discussion into one night.