Damn. He was turning into a romantic sap. He welcomed the exertion to work off excess tension and the protective need to keep Nikki close. Safe.
Nikki caught his gaze with hers. "I'm okay," she said as if reading his thoughts. "Nothing happened to me last night."
He was in over his head with this woman.
Carson sidestepped away from her to drop anchor. "When I think of what could have happened to you, all those times you were alone with that kid..."
Restless, edgy, he tossed the anchor into the harbor with extra force.
"I was never alone with Billy Wade for just that reason." Nikki stowed lines, already having picked up on his routine with a perception and ease that further closed his throat.
Her words did little to erase hellish scenarios of other horrific possibilities. He was definitely in over his head.
Carson closed the gap between them and pulled her to his chest, not as gentle as he should have been but his emotions were far from temperate. "I just want to keep you safe."
"There's nowhere totally safe. Ever. For now could you stop thinking?" She stepped from his arms, holding his hand and backing toward the hatch that led to the cabin below. "Just feel."
He followed her step for step along the slick deck, grateful for the reprieve from discussion she unwittingly offered. He was only too glad to put off the inevitable. "There's nothing I want more than to feel every inch of you."
"Then by all means—" her hand releasing his, she shrugged out of her windbreaker and hooked her fingers on the hem of her pullover and tugged upward, right there out in the open air and cold "—indulge yourself to your heart's content"
Heart?
He suspected the word wasn't too far off the mark when it came to this woman. Her windbreaker and sweater fell around her feet, leaving her in her jeans and mint-green silky T-shirt.
His hands shook as he hauled her back into his arms, only a few feet away from the solitude below deck calling to him.
With an empty bed.
Tangled sheets.
And Nikki.
They would get n**ed very shortly, no question about it, but first he had to taste her, fully, without interruptions from stalker teens or inquisitive investigators. Wind gathered speed over the stretch of ocean, encircling their locked bodies until Nikki shivered in his arms. From cold or desire? Either way, reason to take this party downstairs.
Slanting his mouth over hers, deeper, hotter, he hadn't been this nervous about ha**ng s*x with a woman since he'd been the virgin. Maybe that was the whole point. This wasn't just about having sex. He was making love to her, and as tenuous as their relationship was, this could well be the only chance he would have to pour everything into loving her.
"Thank you," she whispered against his lips.
"For what?"
"For bringing me here, to this place where we found each other for the first time. For knowing the gesture would be sweet and special.">She totally agreed, arching into his kiss, into this moment she so needed and deserved after a stressful week of waiting, wondering as she resumed her life. He cupped the small of her back, tunneled under her T-shirt, his hand branding all the hotter in forty-degree air. Her tingling toes curled, toasty warm even in flip-flops. The searching sweep of his tongue ignited sparks along her nerves until she itched to shed her clothes, tug off his...
Not a wise idea outside, especially at her parents' house with late-night traffic whispering in the distance, closer, the sound growing until a truck rumbled down her street, a vehicle apparently in need of a new muffler.
Carson's mouth stilled on hers, broke contact, a tension bunching muscles along his shoulders. She opened her eyes and found him scowling—but not at her, his attention focused on something over her shoulder.
"Carson?" She ducked her head into his line of sight. "Are you okay?"
He tucked her aside, while keeping his gaze on the road. "I've seen that battered old pickup drive past at least three times tonight."
She looked around his broad shoulders. "Do you think it's someone assigned by Agent Reis to watch the house?"
He urged her back toward the apartment. "I don't know, but it looks damned familiar."
"You're right." She held her ground, squinting in the darkness, and realizing— No. She didn't want that to be true, but couldn't ignore the obvious. "That's my student. The one you called a thug. Billy Wade Watkins."
Without a word, Carson lifted her by the waist, deposited her in the apartment and thundered down half the wooden steps before vaulting over the banister to the lawn. He sprinted across the grass and over a hedge, toward the street. Good God, he was going to get run over. Her brain went off stun long enough to race after him, double-timing the stairs to the yard, her feet in flip-flops slipping along the damp grass, slowing her dash.