27
Liv’s heartthundered at Zeke’s raw, menacing command.
Unable to sleep, she’d padded over to the desk to retrieve her copy of Sandra Brown’s latest romantic suspense. She’d heard a lot of great things about the novel and tonight seemed a good time to break the spine.
Once again, Johona’s soft assurances echoed in her head.
You can help him.
Before she could register her actions, her bare feet carried her to the window. The Flower Moon blossomed on a velvety black canvas, washing out the stars and blanketing the landscape in a luminous glow.
The chapel’s steeple rose above the shimmering trees, beckoning.
She dropped the book on her bed, grabbed an overshirt from the back of a chair, and stuffed her feet into a pair of slip-ons by the door.
Once she faced the chapel’s high doors, indecision gnawed at her. Would he be inside? Should she disturb him? Or leave him to his solitude?
You can help him.
No sooner than her body cleared the door did she realize she’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.
The near-feral man before her kept her frozen in place, even though every instinct urged her to leave him to his demons.
She almost did, until he swiped his arm angrily over his face. Even with the room shrouded in thick layers of gloom, she knew what that motion meant. Any mother of a nine-year-old boy inching his way toward manhood would.
“No.” She stepped farther into the chapel and the door swung shut behind her.
He turned his back on her. “I’m not in control, Olivia. You need to go.”
Moving closer, she forced a lightness into her voice. “Male tantrums ceased to scare me years ago.”
“I’m not a boy,” he turned and pinned her with his gaze, “and I’m sure as hell not your son.”
Closer. “No, Zeke. You’re all man. With all the accompanying burdens and fears and frustrations.”
Hands on hips, he lifted his face to a small oval-shaped window high on the far wall, but said nothing.
Closer. “I’ve mastered the art of listening. What happens in chapel stays in chapel.”
His voice dropped several octaves. “And if I don’t want to talk?”
The mad ramming in her chest froze and sweat coated her palms. Having sex with Zeke would be a bad idea. Having sex with Zeke in a chapel would be a straight ticket to Hell.
Closer.
Once she put her hands on him again, she wouldn’t want to stop. She recalled how hard it had been to leave his bed last time. That was before she knew much about him.
Closer.
She couldn’t afford to get into him any more deeply. If she did, it would hurt like hell when she left. And she would leave. There was no alternative.
“As tempting as you are, Zeke, it’s not a good idea.”
“I know.” He stalked toward her.
“We’re working together.” His advance didn’t slow. “Nothing can interfere with this case.”
I won’t let you break my heart.