The Past Between Us. Kimberly Van Meter
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crashed to the floor, but before he landed he grabbed blindly and by sheer luck managed to snag her sneakered foot, sending her tumbling to the worn carpet, as well. She landed with a soft grunt and tried to kick his hand free but he was already losing the birds flying around his head and he lunged at her. She turned into a kicking, scratching she-devil and it was all he could do to keep from getting her size nine in his face.
“Let me go,” she demanded as they struggled, but he’d managed to put his full weight on top of her and the last part came out as an outraged gasp. She was shorter than him but at five foot nine she wasn’t a petite little thing. She’d always been curvy in all the right spots and if it hadn’t been for the pulsing agony in his temple he might’ve been distracted by all that soft, womanly flesh pressed tightly against him. When he was a teen he’d fantasized about what it might feel like to be hip to hip with this woman, but in his wildest dreams he never imagined that when it happened she’d be doing her best to kill him.
He managed to secure both her hands but it wasn’t easy. The woman had skills. Both of them were breathing hard, which made her breasts push against his chest and he could feel the soft caress of her breath against his face. She smelled of cinnamon candy and some kind of herbal lotion or oil that you might find in a specialty store. It wasn’t patchouli—that stuff made him sneeze—but it was something that someone might enjoy as an incense. Whatever it was, the scent called up images of warm bodies sliding against one another in a darkened room, urgent whispers and hands caressing. Hell, did she douse herself in some kind of aphrodisiac? He blinked hard against the images his mind happily threw at him in concert with the aroma assault and he tightened his grip on her hands until she couldn’t do much more than twist beneath him. He stared down into a pair of deadly calculating eyes that radiated anger and retribution and he knew if she had half a chance she’d brain him and be on her merry way.
“You’re coming with me,” he said from between gritted teeth, his breathing labored for more reasons than the physical exertion. He was horrified to admit he was aroused. He could only hope she didn’t realize that the bulge pressing against her wasn’t only the ridge from his jeans.
Chest heaving as she caught her breath, she gave him a mocking glare as she pointed out one crucial detail. “The minute you let go of my hands I’m going to get free. You have the advantage right now only because you’re holding my hands. You can’t stay this way forever.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t make this worse on yourself. You’re already in a heap of trouble. The ride is over.”
“You don’t know anything about what’s going on. All you know is what he’s told everyone.”
He shouldn’t ask but he did anyway. “He who?”
“Lionel Vissher. My stepfather.”
“What’s he got to do with the people you’ve swindled out of thousands of dollars?”
“I haven’t swindled anyone,” she shot back and he could only stare. The last time he checked, stealing people’s identity and then their cash was indeed swindling. But whatever word she used to describe it…it was still illegal. And she was guilty. “I borrowed a little to survive. I plan to pay them back.”
“Sure you do.”
Her lips tightened and he found it vaguely ironic that she was offended by his disbelief. “I have every name of every person I ever borrowed from and I will pay them back as soon as I get Lionel out of my family’s bank account.”
“So these past two years you’ve been running from the law, you’ve actually been hunting down information on your stepfather?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, a flare of hope in her voice. “That’s exactly it. I never actually hurt anyone, I mean I know I deceived a few people but harmlessly so. When I pay them back everything will be fine. But if you take me in, I’ll never get to clear my name and worse, that snake will continue to live in my family’s home sucking up the fortune my father helped build.” His brow furrowed and she recognized that look from years ago. She continued quickly. “Think about it, Tommy. Would I do the things they say I’ve done without a good reason? Why would I? I had plenty of money. I didn’t need to steal, not until Lionel came into my life. If you knew what he was really like, you’d be arresting him instead of me.” Her hands were slowly losing feeling. She wiggled against him and peered up at him with what she hoped was an expression of vulnerability as she pleaded in a small voice. “Please let me go…you’re hurting me, Tommy.”
He paused and a myriad of emotions crossed his face. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. He’d epitomized the strong silent type when they were growing up. He’d always been a great listener, even when all she did was complain about problems that in the big scheme of things didn’t matter at all. If only she’d realized that then. Now it was too late.
His gaze searched her face and she could almost hope that his silence was evidence of his uncertainty, but she should’ve known that such a possibility was small for a man like Thomas Bristol. He was a stickler for the rules—which had made a career in law enforcement such a no-brainer. His mouth tightened and his gaze hardened as he told her what was going to happen next. “I’m going to let your hands go and you’re going to come quietly.”
No way in hell. “Try it and see.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Just do yourself a favor and don’t fight me.”
Was that the tiniest plea couched in that harsh tone? She could only wonder. “Let me go and we won’t have to fight.”
“You know that’s not possible.”
“I don’t know any such thing. You could walk away, pretend you never found me.”
“That’s not who I am and I’m not about to change so you can continue using people for your own gain. According to your file, you’re a thief and a liar and your free ride stops here.”
She scowled. “That’s an inflammatory statement, don’t you think? And quite possibly slanderous. Watch yourself, Tommy. Perhaps I’ll sue.”
His mouth twisted. “Oh, really? I’d like to see you try.”
“Get off me, you brute. It’s not like you’re a lightweight. Perhaps not so many doughnuts and a little more roughage in your diet would help drop some of those pounds,” she taunted him, enjoying the flare of anger that followed. It was complete crap, of course. He was built like a Greek god and if she were in a different position, she certainly wouldn’t complain about his body on top of hers but that wasn’t her reality so the lug needed to get the hell off and quick. If insulting him got the job done she was more than willing to do it. “Oh, man, I can’t breathe.” She twisted a little beneath him. “Seriously, you’re hurting me. I promise I won’t do anything, just get off. Okay?”
“Promise?” He eyed her with suspicion.
“My hands are going numb and my ribs are cracking,” she said in answer, shifting again under his weight.
“You’re the one who put us in this position,” he reminded her, but oddly, he didn’t move. She inhaled the sharp scent of his skin and when images from the past assaulted her, she kicked them away. She’d never slept with him—a blessing, perhaps, though definitely a serious regret—but they had shared one helluva kiss on her seventeenth birthday. Was he remembering that sizzling moment, as well? Doubtful. The fact that she was suddenly reminded of that moment discomfited her.
“Tommy, I mean it,” she said, snapping him out of whatever he was thinking. He shifted slowly, watching her closely. Guess he didn’t trust her much after she rattled his teeth. She wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed. She drew a deep breath, wincing as her ribs complained, then as he let her hands go she shook some circulation back into them before scrambling to her feet.
“Cassi,” he warned, advancing toward her as she backed away, her thoughts moving quickly to the best possible escape plan. “There’s nowhere for you to go. Think this through. You won’t get far.”