Blue Knight by Tracy Cooper-Posey Page A

Her triathlon wins and losses. Her Facebook account pictures. Blog entries. Her online life. And photos. Dozens of them. Instant photos, online photos, photos that had clearly been taken from around the house and Acapulco and printed out on cheap paper. There were even good quality photos tacked up with brads and nails and thumb tacks. Posed pictures of her with her family, with Duardo, but many of them by herself. Many of them were candid and some of them she didn’t remember being taken at all. All of it was laid out for the gaze of a man who supposedly didn’t want her.
    There was one photo, an eight by ten glossy, that clearly was in pride-of-place in the center of the wall, that had caught her looking dreamy-eyed and wistful, staring almost directly at the camera, her hand resting low on her chest, her lips parted.
    Téra knew instantly why Lucas had focused on that photo. It cried out passion. Lust. Longing.
    He said he didn’t want her?
    She spun and hurried down the cabana steps again.
    Lucas had gone.
    Téra picked up the hem of her gown and ran after the armed guards. “Did you see where Captain De la Cruz went?” she asked.
    “Along the beach,” one of them answered, pointing.
    She looked. Lucas was striding along the wet sand just above the rolling waves, heading for the point at the far end of the bay, a black figure silhouetted against blacker night sky.
    “Thank you.”
    She hurried after Lucas, hoisting the skirt of her gown over one elbow and running. Lucas was moving fast, but she was a sprinter and it took only a few minutes to catch him. Even when she did, he didn’t stop striding. She stepped in front of him and walked backward. “I don’t understand.”
    “I didn’t ask you to.”
    “Lucas, please. Just stop.”
    “I can’t.”
    She jumped, threw her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. It made him halt and hold her at the same time.
    “I love you,” she told him simply.
    He closed his eyes.
    Téra gave in to the need that had driven her for weeks. She pressed her lips against his soft, passionate ones, feeling their fullness and the unexpected heat of them. She hadn’t been prepared for the heat. The unyielding firmness behind them, yes, she had guessed that would be there. But not this warmth, endowed with his scent like a candle giving off an aromatic glow. Téra held on with one arm, not questioning whether he would hold her. She knew he would not let her fall. She used her other hand to run her fingertips—finally—over his face and then his lips, before replacing them with her mouth before he could protest once more.
    She used her hand to push his shirt aside as much as she could, to reveal his shoulders and upper arms.
    He stood like a rock, unmoving. He did not respond to her kisses. He did not let her go. He did not even seem to breathe.
    Téra lifted herself away from him so she could see the lines and planes of his face in the moonlight. His eyes were black pits.
    “Are you finished, little girl?” he asked softly.
    The ridicule stung, but she knew he said it only to try to deflect her. She let herself slide down to the soft, cool sand to stand in front of him. “I know you want me, Lucas. I just don’t know why you won’t take me.”
    “You’ll never have that answer, child. It is beyond your comprehension.” His tone was withering.
    “I won’t give up,” Téra told him. “I will find what it is that is stopping you, Lucas. I’ll destroy it.” She stroked the front of his trousers, where his cock rested heavy and solid along his hip. She scraped her fingernail over the fabric where she could feel the delicious ridge of the cap of his cock, teasing it through the fibers.
    Lucas’ hand snapped over her wrist, the fingers digging into her flesh hard. “Damn it, Téra,” he growled. His other hand thrust into her hair and her head was tugged backward, bringing her face up so he could peer into it. His lips, those soft lips, hovered