Rival Forces by D. D. Ayres Page B

like a statue on the drive back, she reacted quickly upon their arrival. Before he could even put the SUV in park she pushed Lily from her lap and was out of the vehicle.
    He and Lily followed, catching up before she could open her front door. He snagged her arm. “Hang on, Yard.” She shot him a wary glance. “You should have told me you’d been threatened.”
    She swung back to him, her eyes like liquid onyx in the porch light. “It had nothing to do with you.”
    â€œYou’re my business right now, Yard. I wouldn’t have left you alone for a second if I’d thought there was the slightest chance of you being in danger.”
    Her forehead furrowed. “Why?”
    â€œBecause.” He wished he had better.
    She studied his face. He knew she was seeing everything he felt, hurt and worry and an inexplicable attraction, and it was all for her. “Why did you leave earlier without a good-bye?”
    â€œI didn’t leave you. I went to find us something to eat.” He rubbed his hands together, cold because she was wearing his SAR jacket. “It’s New Year’s Day. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is open in this valley. I had to drive almost to Richmond to find a place where I could get a hot meal. I was bringing back dinner for us, but we got distracted.”
    The softening in her expression surprised him. He stared at her, trying to hold back what he felt. Resisting the urge to touch. But something tender moved through his voice. “I wish the fuck I knew what was going on between us.”
    She stayed perfectly still, as if she didn’t understand. Or because she did.
    He reached out and touched her face as tenderly as he could, fingertips barely resting along her jawline. “I owe you an apology for this morning. I should never have put my hands on you. I’m sorry.”
    She looked perplexed for a moment, but she hadn’t backed out of his touch. “The kiss?”
    â€œOkay. Yeah.”
    Is that how she remembered their physical confrontation? Not the fact that he, much like Stokes, had forced her to deal with the fact that he was bigger and stronger than she was? No, that wasn’t honest. He hadn’t been doing that. He’d taken the opportunity to give in to the urge to touch her because he couldn’t help himself. It was there now. His gaze locked on her mouth but he dropped his hand before he could finish the impulse to pull her close.
    That urge had been hammering away at him ever since he saw her walking up the drive this morning. He’d heard some scientist say recently on a show about intergalactic travel that time and distance were elastic in the universe. Changeable by circumstances. Time and distance had collapsed when he saw Yardley this morning. The years in between had been sucked into a black hole of emotions that had not dimmed and winked out, hadn’t even aged. As fucked up an idea as it seemed, he still felt—everything—for Yardley Summers.
    He’d come here to serve Law’s request and protect Yard. But once he saw her, he was never far from the uncomfortable truth that there was a third imperative to his unspoken charge. Touch. He wanted to serve, protect, and touch her.
    But wanting wasn’t having. Thinking wasn’t acting. He wasn’t going to act on that third imperative. Then she’d touched him first.
    He could still feel the irritation of her poking him with her finger. Only it didn’t provoke anger from him. He’d gone hard as rock under that prodding touch. With her face only inches from his, the sensual warmth of her breath feathering across his face while the dark gleam of her angry stare dared him to act, he’d reacted to the only command getting through to his blood-starved brain. Grab her. Hold her. Take her.
    He’d grabbed. He’d held her. He’d kissed her.
    A good guy wouldn’t have taken advantage. Wouldn’t have pulled her in