“What a guy.”
“You might thank me later,” he said, chuckling.
David didn’t respond. Mumbling a “Nice meeting you,” to the couple on his left, he crossed the room and stood behind the empty seat at Skye’s table. “Mind if I join you?”
A woman to his immediate right smiled broadly. Young, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, she was obviously with her parents, which made them a threesome and created the open seat. “Of course not.”
The man on his other side pushed out the chair. “Sit down,” he said. The others added similar sentiments, but Skye said nothing. Giving him a mutinous frown, she turned to her companion, Charlie Fox, who—according to the quick background check David had run—had one divorce on record, two children, no arrests or convictions and no speeding tickets.
“So what do you do?” It was the woman on his right again, who was slightly overweight but fairly pretty nonetheless.
“I’m a detective with the Sacramento Police Department,” he replied.
She clapped enthusiastically. “Oh! You’re not here to investigate the shooting last night, are you?”
Skye was sitting directly across from him. She immediately pasted on a smile for the benefit of the others, but David sensed the weariness and fragility behind it. “No.” He was here under the excuse that he needed to be sure she was safe. If Oliver had sent Lorenzo to kill her, he could send someone else. But the truth was that he couldn’t make himself stay away. It bothered him that Skye was turning her back on what they felt for each other—and yet he approved. One of them had to do something. They couldn’t go on hovering in this agonizing limbo.
“What shooting?” Charlie Fox stopped eating and glanced questioningly around the table.
“You haven’t heard?” the girl said. “It’s been all over the news. And…you’re here with Ms. Kellerman, aren’t you?”
“Since my wife left me, I don’t watch the news or read the papers,” he said. “It’s too depressing. What happened?”
The girl’s father, who was sitting on her other side, leaned close and said, “Have some sensitivity, Jillian.” Or something to that effect because she suddenly grew uncertain. “Um…I’m not sure Ms. Kellerman wants to talk about it,” she said belatedly, backing off.
Skye raised her chin. “It’s fine,” she said, but David knew Skye well enough to realize what this evening was costing her. She hadn’t yet come to terms with the life she’d taken, still didn’t understand the reason behind Lorenzo’s appearance at her house. Yet here she was, once again the focus of public attention and speculation. David hated to see her put in the same vulnerable position she’d been in after Burke’s attack. It made him angry and defensive that she’d do this to herself by showing up tonight. She needed time to mourn what had happened, to recover.
But he knew she’d do anything for The Last Stand.
“In those situations you do what you have to do,” David said. The finality in his voice was meant to shield Skye from any further questions. But the man sitting next to Skye—Charlie Fox—didn’t get it.
“You were involved in a shooting?” he said, gaping at her.
The blood drained from Skye’s face. But her brittle smile remained stubbornly in place. “There was an intruder. I—I had to defend myself.”
“That means you shot him? He’s dead?”
Forks stilled around the table as the uncomfortable silence snuffed out all other conversation.
“It wasn’t as if… I mean, I—” Skye started. But then her throat worked as if she was struggling to swallow, and she began to blink rapidly.
David could tell she was on the verge of tears. Shoving her chair away from the table, she fled the room without another word.
17
Before the door to the bathroom could sweep shut behind her, David was there. Skye almost told him he couldn’t be where he was, that it was the women’s restroom, but it really wasn’t. It was a small, single family-style bathroom meant for use by either men or women. Skye had chosen it rather than the women’s room because she could lock the door and be alone, away from the prying eyes and comments she’d have to endure elsewhere. She needed the privacy, but she wasn’t sure why. Charlie Fox had meant no harm. Not really. It was just…all the questions.
Lorenzo Bishop had planned to harm her; she’d only defended herself. Then why did she feel so bewildered and hurt?
Covering her face to hide her tears, she dodged David’s hand when he tried to pull her into his arms.
“Come here,” he said and turned her in spite of her attempts to rebuff him, forcing her to look at him.
She did so defiantly. If he was going to see her tears, he was also going to see the anger and confusion he caused. But the expression on his face was so tortured her anger didn’t last. With a sob, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, kissing her temple and holding her close.
“No, it’s not okay,” she said. “What’s going to happen to us?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered, cradling her face between his large hands as he gazed down at her. “I can’t rid myself of what I feel for you, no matter what I do. The more I try to shut you out of my thoughts, the more you appear in my dreams. I make love to you over and over again and I can never get enough.”
Feeling the hard ridge of his erection against her stomach, she stared breathlessly up at him. “No, David. It’s too late. I can’t take you constantly shoving me away. I have to forget you, move on.”
He raised his hand and gently trailed a finger over the swell of her breast. “I can’t forget you.”
Her body reacted in spite of her desire to remain unaffected. But she was still defiant. “You don’t really want me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
His finger touched the very tip of her breast and stayed there, brushing the nipple ever so lightly.
Several seconds passed as they stared at each other, held by an attraction that was stronger than Skye’s ability to resist it. Then, slowly, she reached up and untied the bow that held the top of her dress in place.
As the fabric dropped, she knew by the look on his face that nothing would stop them now.