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  One side of her mouth rose a little in a half smile. "That's because I liked myself even if he didn't. And I'd already promised myself that I wasn't going to turn into someone who was bitter, someone who could only look for answers in the bottom of a bottle."

  Her father had been a drunk and both verbally and physically abusive. No wonder she'd run off with the first man who asked her. He found himself wishing that he had been the one to come to her rescue. "You're a remarkable woman, you know that?"

  Her smile widened then, with both sides of her mouth fitting into it. He could feel himself becoming captivated. "Just your average, everyday survivor, that's all," she told him as he stepped on the gas again.

  "Nothing average about you, Brenda York."

  The sound of his voice danced along her skin, romancing her. Seducing her.

  He was drawing her in. Little by little, she thought, he was drawing her in, making her believe that maybe, just maybe, things could work out between them in the long run. That he, Dax Cavanaugh, was the one she'd been looking for so long. The Prince on the White Charger was actually a cop driving a navy-blue car, but the particulars didn't matter. What mattered was that he made her feel the way she'd once believed she could feel. Wildly giddy. Empowered. Wonderful.

  And how was he going to feel once he knew she was pregnant? Assuming that he was anywhere near feeling what she felt to begin with?

  Which was a big if, she reminded herself.

  Brenda tried in vain to shake off the thought. This was all transitory, she silently insisted. It would be over before she knew it.

  But before it was…

  But before it was she wanted to savor it, to enjoy what she could. Because this was her one shot. There was no question in her mind that it was. She knew that in her soul. Until he'd come along, she'd almost given up believing it was possible to feel like this. Even if that shot missed, she'd have memories and at bottom, that was all they all had. Memories.

  "Hungry?"

  She had a feeling that wasn't the first time he'd asked her just now. She focused her mind and nodded. A change of subject to something nice and neutral was good. "How about pizza?"

  He was about to make the suggestion himself. "No more craving for French fries?" he teased.

  She looked at him sharply. Craving was just a word he'd pulled out of the air. "No," she teased back. "I've decided to switch cravings to pizza."

  "Then pizza it is."

  As he entered the early evening flow of traffic, he eased back on the gas. Taking out his cell phone, he punched a single number and checked in with the two officers he'd left at the bus terminal. As expected, they had nothing new or positive to report. No one in the area remembered seeing a man in a Giants cap and jacket carrying two black bags. So much for getting a description of a possible getaway vehicle.

  Suppressing his frustration, Dax told the men to go back to the precinct and see if any of the calls had yielded something for them to work with. He didn't hold out much hope there, either, but you never knew. Some of the biggest cases had been solved by accident, because of something that had nothing to do with the case in the first place. The pieces were all out there, he just had to find them and place them in their proper order.

  For the moment, as far as the case went, they were gridlocked. He had an uneasy feeling there was something he was missing, a piece that wasn't fitting in with the rest, but for the life of him, he couldn't see it from this perspective.

  He needed his batteries recharged. Dinner might help.

  Making a decision, Dax drove up to a restaurant that was known throughout the area for its pizza. This was where you went when you wanted to indulge in some serious pizza-eating. Pulling into the lot, he paused a moment after cutting off the engine and looked at Brenda.

  'To go?"

  Eating dinner here would be safer. But she didn't want to be safe. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted to be with him. Even more than she wanted the pizza.

  She smiled in response to his question. "To go."

  Forty-five minutes later, they were in her apartment, on the floor, the box with its hot, bubbling pizza between them. To their credit, they ate some of it before other appetites rose to push the thought of food far into the background.

  As he took her into his arms, Dax realized that he'd been waiting for this from the moment he'd woken up beside her this morning. Despite the case, despite everything he knew should come first, thoughts of being with her, of making love with her, had hovered in his mind through the course of the day. Another first.

  Healthy, red-blooded with a finely tuned libido, Dax still knew how to put everything extraneous, everything that didn't pertain to his case, on hold whenever he was working. Up until now, it had all been compartmentalized. When he was working, those kind of thoughts, those kind of urges, just didn't enter into his working world.

  But now they had. Entered into it like Caesar marching into Rome.

  All he wanted was to be with her in every manner possible, make love with her until he couldn't draw a steady breath into his lungs.

  Maybe even after that.

  "I like the taste of pizza served this way," he told her, savoring it on her lips. He licked his own, then ran his tongue along hers again.

  Her heart continued hammering. The deep kiss had almost sent her over the edge. It had certainly done a number on her pulse. And managed to blot out all thoughts of everything but him. The word "more" urgently echoed in her brain.

  Her body quickening, moistening, she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  "Another serving coming up," she promised just before she pressed her mouth to his.

  She could feel the urgency in his body, the desire that took hold of him instantly and gloried in the response she felt in her own. She could feel her body humming with anticipation, heating even as all he touched was her back as he pressed her closer to him.

  And eagerness seized her, laced with a measure of fear.

  What if last time had been an anomaly? What if it was only a one-time thing, heightened by her vulnerability and her need to be wanted?

  But even as she worried, she could feel Dax working his magic, could feel the fear loosening its bonds from around her. In her heart, she knew he wouldn't disappoint her.

  The man was a wizard, casting spells on her with his hands, with his mouth. With his body as it pressed against hers.

  She couldn't wait.

  Eagerness seized her, spurring her on. The moment he began to undress her, her fingers began to work the buttons out of their holes on his shirt, tugging it out of her pants. All the while, as she worked, their lips hardly broke contact and when they did, she was quick to reintroduce the connection again.

  Her head was spinning and she loved it.

  Loved him.

  The single thought vibrated in her mind. She buried it immediately, afraid of what it might mean. Of where it could lead her.

  Better to live for the moment.

  He made her feel beautiful. As his fingers strummed along her skin, touching, caressing, fondling, he made her feel beautiful, like some exquisite piece of art fashioned just for him. Admired just by him.

  She knew it was all an illusion, but he made her feel loved and for the space of a tiny eternity, she clung to it.

  And as she did so, all the feverish sensations speeding through her body intensified. She realized that it was as if last night with him had been a dress rehearsal and now this was the real thing.

  This was show time.

  She could barely catch her breath, but even so, she wanted more. More of the wild rush she felt as he took her from one climax to the next, accomplishing it in a variety of ways she hadn't thought possible.

  Dax found places at the side of her neck, in the hollow of her elbow, along the slope of her belly. Over and over again, the explosions came, seizing her in their grasp, making her sob his name. Tossing her between agony and ecstasy.

  Next time, she promised herself, next time she'
d make him go out of his mind. But right now, he was doing it to her. Rocking her world, transforming it into a fourth of July celebration. It seemed that his primary concern was that he brought her pleasure. She adored him for that, too.

  But what if, a tiny voice whispered in her head, there wasn't going to be a next time? What if this was it, the last time they would make love together?

  The thought, the fear, spurred her on.

  Summoning strength from some nether region she hadn't known she had access to, Brenda managed to flip their positions. The surprise on his face was worth the superhuman effort it had taken her.

  He'd barely kept himself in check. Twice he'd wanted to enter her, to savor the ultimate moment with her, and yet he'd held off, wanting to please her. Wanting to blot out the memory of every other man she'd ever been with from her mind just as she'd blotted out the memory of every other woman from his. He didn't know where this was going, told himself to take it as it came, but in his heart, Dax knew that this was different. She was different. She mattered.

  He held on to her hips as she fitted herself over him, then bit back a cry as she began to move them in a timeless rhythm that seized him.

  "Damn, but you're beautiful," Dax murmured as he filled his hands with her hair and drew her down to him. He wanted the taste of her lips on his when the ultimate rush came.

  And when, in the next heartbeat, it did, he knew that he didn't want it to end. Didn't want to ever have to let her go.

  The realization scared him, but at the same time, he knew that it felt right. That she felt right.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

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  He didn't know he could be this happy.

  As far back as he could remember, barring some momentary crisis or other, he'd always been a happy person. It was a natural state of being, coupled with the optimism that seemed a given within most of his family, immediate and extended.

  But he'd never been happy, really happy with a capital H before.

  It was as if wild bursts of sunshine went off in his bloodstream at unannounced moments and all he could do was sit back in awe of it, never knowing when the next one would hit. He was powerless to divert it, powerless to initiate it. But he could enjoy it.

  And make love with Brenda again. Which he did. With all the passion and tenderness he could muster.

  After the euphoria had settled deep into his bones the second time, Dax struggled to rouse himself rather than to give in to the very real temptation of staying the night with Brenda, holding her in his arms. The struggle was made more intense by the fact that his cell phone hadn't rung, which meant that none of the people working on the task force under him had anything they thought important enough to share with him.

  A lazy contentment threatened to spill out through his body, claiming him. The scent of her hair seeped into his senses, seducing him. Dax dug his knuckles into the mattress, forcing himself into a sitting position. He had to get up before his resolve became the consistency of a fruit pop left out in the sun.

  "Don't go," Brenda whispered, wrapping her fingers around his arm. Surprising him.

  Dax laughed softly and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "I thought you fell asleep."

  She allowed herself a soulful sigh, making him think of a cat who had just eaten a saucer of cream. "Just resting." Her mouth curved as she looked up at him. Another salvo of sunshine went off in his veins. "Trying to get my strength back for another go 'round."

  This time, the laugh was louder as he shook his head in wonder. "You're giving me a hell of a lot of credit here."

  She took a deep breath, trying to draw herself out of the delicious half-asleep, half-awake state she was in. She could still feel the warmth of his skin beneath her cheek even though he'd gotten up. It excited her even as it spread a soothing blanket over her.

  "I think you're up to it." And then she grinned, her eyes sparkling as they looked up into his. "No pun intended."

  "Oh, I think you intended it." Grasping her shoulders, he bent over Brenda and just lightly brushed his lips over hers. Anything more and he knew he wouldn't be going anywhere. "I think you intend everything that happens."

  She raised herself up on her elbow as he got up, trying not to be distracted by the sight of his naked body. She needed him to understand that this had just happened between them, that she hadn't attempted to orchestrate anything.

  "Actually, no."

  Her tone was so serious, he stopped to look at her over his shoulder. "Then you're as surprised as I am."

  Without realizing it, she ran her tongue along her lips, savoring the taste of him and succeeding in exciting herself. "Completely."

  "Nice." Doubling back, Dax allowed himself one more quick kiss, then got up again.

  When he didn't head for the bathroom but the opposite direction, Brenda sat up in earnest. "Where are you going?"

  "To get my clothes," he told her. "I'm going back to work."

  It was almost eleven. She was secretly hoping he'd stay the night, the way he had the first time.

  "Did someone call?" She didn't think she had dozed off after they made love, but it might have been possible. And if she had, then she would have missed his phone ringing.

  "No," he called out from the living room. His clothes were scattered throughout the small area, along with hers. He slipped them on quickly. "I just want to go over everything from the beginning, see if there's anything I missed." Dressed, he walked into her kitchen. "But you completely drained me, woman. I need energy. Where do you keep the coffee filters?"

  Coffee. It was the first thing she thought of when she needed energy herself. Brenda got out of bed. It was nice that they had things in common, even small things.

  "In the cupboard above the counter," she called back to him. "The one closest to the sink." Brenda pulled on fresh underwear and slipped on a pair of jeans that were slung over the back of a chair. "If you give me a second, I can make it for you." When he made no answer, she wondered if he'd heard her. "Dax?"

  She began to button her blouse when her initial directions echoed in her head. The cupboard above the sink.

  That was where she kept the prenatal vitamins her doctor had issued her, a prescription because she needed the extra iron in them. She was in the kitchen before her thoughts had a chance to form completely.

  The set of his shoulders as she saw his back told her it was too late. She could feel a large hole opening up in the pit of her stomach. Dax turned to face her, holding the bottle in his hand. His eyes were expressionless as they met hers. "What are these?"

  His tone was very, very still.

  A chill ran over her heart even as she told herself it was going to be all right, that she could make him understand.

  A small voice inside her head whispered, no, you won't.

  Brenda couldn't make her legs move forward. She stood frozen where she was, staring at him, her breath caught in her lungs. Finally, she managed to say, "They're prenatal vitamins."

  He'd read that. Read the patient's name on the bottle as well. But he couldn't get himself to believe it. Didn't want to believe it. "Whose are they?"

  She could lie, could make up some story about trying to pull a slight of hand over on the insurance company for a friend or something like that. If ever there was a need for a lie, this was it. But she'd already committed the sin of omission by not telling him about the baby; she couldn't compound it now with a lie.

  She drew a breath, trying to stabilize her shaky pulse. "Mine."

  He looked at the date on the bottle. This wasn't an old prescription, she'd filled it less than a month ago. "You're pregnant?"

  "Yes." The word burned in her throat as tears gathered in her eyes, anticipating what was to come.

  The single word slammed into him with the force of a block-long moving van barreling down the freeway. Pregnant, Brenda was pregnant. With someone else's child. He'd made love to her and all the while, she had been carrying someone else's baby.
>
  "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, his anger barely contained.

  The fact that she hadn't told him, hadn't said anything at all about the baby, stunned him even more than the fact that she was pregnant. Because it destroyed the illusion he'd allowed himself to build up that there was something special, something good and unique going on between them. How could there be when she'd kept something so important, so huge, from him? She didn't trust him.

  Brenda remained where she was. It was only through extreme determination that she managed to hold herself together. If she took so much as one step forward, she was going to dissolve in tears. Her hormones felt as if they were ricocheting wildly all through her. "I didn't know how."

  His expression hardened. "Very simple," he told her coldly. "You could have looked at me and said, 'Dax, there's just one little thing I need to tell you before we knock boots—I'm pregnant.'"

  She stiffened at the harsh, cold image he painted. "I was afraid that if I told you I was pregnant, you wouldn't make love with me."

  Anger filled every part of him, making him rage, making him unreasonable. He threw down the bottle. It bounced on the counter, then fell into the sink, still closed. "So that's why you didn't tell me? Because you were horny?"

  "Don't say that," she snapped angrily. Vainly she tried to construct a wall around herself, a wall so that he couldn't hurt her. But it was too late. "You make it sound so cheap and it wasn't—not for me."

  He laughed dryly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. How could he believe anything she said to him? "Right, the earth moved."

  "Yeah, it did," she shouted at him. Her own anger allowed her to cross to him, to get into his face. How dare he doubt anything she felt? "For me. I've never been with anyone before my husband, so I'm not by any means experienced, but I thought that what I had with Wade was all there was." She was fighting tears now. He had to understand, he had to. "But you showed me there was more, so much more. I knew this was nothing special to you, the way it was to me, so it wouldn't matter to you whether I was pregnant or not."

  Nothing special to him. Well, he couldn't very well admit that now, could he? Not without looking like more of a fool than he already felt he was. "Let me get this straight," he said coldly, pretending confusion. "If you thought it wouldn't matter to me that you were pregnant, why didn't you tell me?"