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  Steve continued to goad her. “You wanted security more than anything else in your life. When you found James, you married the Crowned Prince of Safety Nets. He was a good man, but you traded lust for insulation.”

  “Shut up.” Her eyes flashed.

  “In exchange for safety, you gave up the special ingredient that would have made your marriage whole.”

  “I’m warning you!” she shouted. “Stop talking.”

  He ignored her and dared to say the word he believed to be true. “Passion.” He’d sensed her longing the first time he kissed her.

  Victoria’s reaction was instant. Her nostrils flared and she bared her teeth. “Bastard.”

  She glared and took a step forward, but stopped before she got too close. She shoved a glove toward his face. “Don’t you dare talk about James.”

  “Shake off your ghosts, Victoria. Stop licking your wounds.” He raised his gloves in invitation.

  She stood stock-still.

  When he lunged at her and then pulled back, Victoria went wild.

  “Don’t you ever raise your fists to me, you son of a bitch.”

  She charged at him and landed two hard blows to his solar plexus. Steve felt the air rush from his lungs and he doubled over to catch his breath. His ribs hummed. He still ached from his fight at the bar, but steeled himself for the next round of blows.

  She darted around him in a tight circle with her hands protecting her jaw. When Steve faced her again, two quick jabs burned his abdomen. Victoria moved away before he could retaliate.

  “Is it as good for you as it is for me?” she mocked. She feigned another series of blows and bobbed to the right.

  Steve moved closer. “You have nothing to be afraid of anymore,” he said.

  She swung and pummeled his chest. Steve staggered back and lifted a forearm to block the next blow.

  Victoria came in for the kill.

  When she swerved to his right for an upper cut, he stepped into her floor space, hooked his free arm around her waist, and yanked her tight against him. She let out a yelp of surprise and outrage and thrashed while he rushed forward and pressed her back against the sandbag. He pinned her between the weighted bag and his body and held her close. Their chests heaved with exertion.

  Her breathing labored while she struggled against his chest. She looked up at him with mild distain. “Am I cured now?”

  “When you decide to let go and move on, you will be. I bet your therapist told you that already.”

  He held her tighter by wrapping his arms around the sandbag and pressing closer. Heat rose from her skin, and the air became filled with sensual musk.

  “My therapist says strength is measured by how well we rebound from adversity.” She curled her lip. “I guess I should be world champ by now.”

  “You still let Slater upset you. When he no longer has that power, you can walk away. And when you do, remember I’m here for you.”

  He lifted her chin with the underside of his boxing glove. “I don’t want you to play things safe anymore. I want you to take wild, passionate risks.” He lowered his face to hers but stopped short of kissing her. “With me.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly collapsed against him, like a balloon leaking air.

  Steve supported her weight as she released the last of her rage. She took several more breaths and rested her forehead against his chest while she lowered her arms to her sides.

  Finally, she lifted her face to his and met his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “I hope not.” Steve smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. A feeling of overwhelming tenderness washed over him. He’d never met anyone like her, either. She was the epitome of everything he’d ever wanted in a woman—smart, strong, seductive.

  But could she ever really love him the way he hoped? On equal terms? Had her abusive childhood broken her forever?

  He decided to give her the chance, right then, to break away and let him go.

  He loosened his grip to give her the freedom to leave, but she wriggled against him and raised her chin instead. The glimmer in her eyes sent an unmistakable message.

  God, this woman drove him crazy.

  When Steve lowered his mouth to hers, his kiss sealed his unspoken promise to love her. Truly love her.

  As if she understood, she returned the kiss with fierceness she hadn’t offered before, and Steve’s heart hammered with the knowledge that she wanted him.

  He covered her mouth with his and then pressed a wash of kisses over her cheek. His lips traced the line of her jaw to the tender hollow below her ear and lingered there.

  “You are everything to me,” he whispered.

  She keened at his words and offered her throat.

  He dragged his tongue along the column of her neck to the sensitive ridge of her collarbones and nibbled the warm, perspired skin along the path to her shoulder.

  Victoria shuddered. When she sighed with her next intake of breath, he became bolder, and lowered his mouth to lay kisses on the soft tops of her breasts. His mouth grew hot and his breathing deepened. His body ached for her. The strain of his erection pressed against the zipper of his jeans, causing painful friction.

  His gloved hands were imprisoned and he longed to touch her.

  “Victoria.” He breathed her name and then turned away to free his gloves with his teeth. Weighted damp leather fell to the floor. He peeled off the second glove and tossed it aside.

  Victoria raised her hands and he tasted her mouth again—frantically kissing her while he struggled to release the ties on her gloves. He threw them on the floor and swept her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her mouth back to his.

  Steve carried her from the gym to the threshold of the sitting room. He lowered her feet to the floor, kissed her deeply where she stood, and pulled her hips tight against his. There could be no mistaking the desire his body emitted.

  Would she stop him now, or ask for more?

  The answer came when she took his hand in hers. Victoria led Steve from the room, and they moved quickly along the polished hallway of the Van Orr estate until they reached the oval staircase that led to the bedrooms.

  Steve looked up at the second-floor landing and vowed to chase Victoria’s ghosts from the house if it took his last breath. He touched her cheek. “Ready?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  Victoria turned, and he ran up the stairs behind her.

  They tore at each other’s clothes, mouths locked in deep kisses between heaving breaths and a tangle of limbs while they hurried to undress one another. When their movements brought little progress, they separated, stripped what remained, and came together again in a tight embrace. The clash of mouths, tongues, and fingers nearly drove Steve to the brink of sensual overload.

  He stepped back and unbound her hair, letting it fall from the high ponytail she wore to drape her lush body. His hand moved down her neck to the curve of her shoulder, savoring the creamy softness of her skin. Tremors floated beneath his fingers as she reacted to his touch, trailing a wash of goose bumps along the length of her arms. Her breath caught when his hand cupped her breast and his thumb traced the taut peak of her nipple.

  She met his eyes in the afternoon light filtering through her bedroom window. Her gaze was filled with desire and the hint of a challenge, while she ran her palms along his body, meeting his touch stroke for stroke.

  He led her naked to the edge of the bed and pulled the covers down to expose the sheets beneath the comforter.

  She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he wanted her with a hunger that almost overwhelmed him. He went to his knees and brought his mouth to her abdomen while she stood with the backs of her legs pressed against the mattress. She tasted like fresh, salty air the first morning at the beach after a long, cold winter.

  He inhaled the faded but unmistakable aromas of strawberry soap and perspiration on her skin. The scents and textures of her taut, unb
lemished flesh shot desire through him like an adrenaline rush.

  Had he ever really loved a woman before? He thought he had, but realized that the perfect balance of love and lust had been absent in his former relationships, as it had been in hers.

  With Victoria his arousal was stronger than any he’d known, topped by tenderness and affection that nearly undid him. His senses heightened until wanting her turned painful. Yet, she made him feel more powerful than he thought possible. He wanted to crush those who’d hurt her with his bare hands, and then take her in his arms and love her to make up for the hell she had lived.

  He licked her skin, tasting the delicate flesh below her stomach, savoring her feminine scents while her heart beat rhythmic time to his quickening breaths. The heat from her lower body surged from warm to hot to molten as his tongue circled her navel and dragged along the sensitive line where her abdomen met her sex. He plunged, licked, and tasted the tender folds and held her hips while she shuddered against the rush of tremulous air from his mouth.

  Steve reached around to cup her buttocks and eased her onto the bed. “Grab the pillows,” he said, watching as her bottom slid over the sheets and her thighs opened. The flash of plump pink flesh nearly stopped his heart. She stretched, and he watched the curves of her body turn to smooth hollows and planes in the natural light.

  He pulled a condom from his jeans pocket on the floor, and then stacked the pillows she’d gathered beneath her bottom, lifting her hips high. He reared up, unrolled the condom, and draped one of her legs over his shoulder.

  After adjusting their hips to this new position, he plunged into the sweet, deep recess of her welcoming body and savored the thrill of her arousal while she sucked in a breath and met his pace. They clutched and clawed as his climax merged with hers until her shouts of joy echoed through the room.

  Her cries of surrender were the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Steve’s cell phone rang. The insistent tone nagged him when he refused to pick up and rang again. He reached blindly for the night table. His eyes were glued shut with the sleep of a profoundly satisfied man drugged by raging endorphins.

  He growled at being disturbed, rubbed his eyes, and sat up slowly in Victoria’s bed. She turned over and snuggled against his side.

  “Yeah?”

  Lieutenant Leighton was on the other end. “Sorry to wake you in the middle of the night, Steve, but I thought you’d like to know that we’ve arrested Bruce Mitchell and Carlos Vega.”

  Steve sat up straighter in bed, suddenly wide-awake. “What?”

  Victoria sat up beside him. The satin sheet fell away to her hips, revealing the full breasts and alert, pink nipples that had garnered much of his earlier attention. He was a breast man and more than satisfied by Victoria’s generous proportions.

  He stole another glance at her magnificent body before refocusing on Norm’s voice. “What happened?”

  “We acted on the search warrants. We figured we’d catch them off guard to see if anything turned up. It did.”

  Steve’s blood pressure spiked. “What did you find?”

  “Nothing at first. Not a single item that appeared on your list of missing goods. If these guys stole from you, they’re slick. They unloaded it all, and fast. They must have connections—there’s no other explanation for the speed in which the stuff was hauled out of state.”

  The suspense was starting to grate on his nerves. “Are you going to tell me what you found or do I have to come down there and choke it out of you?”

  “Are you threatening an officer of the law? Hold your horses. I’m getting to it.”

  Steve could almost hear his old friend smile into the phone. He enjoyed doing his cop thing. “Just as big a pain in the ass as you ever were. So impatient.”

  Steve thought Victoria would disagree about the impatience, but he didn’t say so.

  “Bruce and Carlos would have gotten away with it, because we found zilch, at first, except they couldn’t resist keeping a trophy. It was hidden inside a cedar chest in the master bedroom, and wrapped in linen. I can’t get the image of them playing with it out of my head. It’s too weird.”

  “What are you talking about? Spill.”

  “Some doll. It looks older than your great-great-grandmother on your ugly father’s side. Says ‘Rohmer’ on the body. It came with a battered trunk and a bunch of old clothes they’d hidden inside a closet under a pile of blankets. The trunk looks like a box of rags to me, but your price tag was still hooked to the handle. Did I read that right? That doll cost more than I made last year. And the year before. Shit. I am in the wrong friggin’ business.”

  Steve’s heart pounded so hard he could barely catch his breath. “It’s part of the Van Orr collection. And very rare. Will be worth a small fortune in the next generation.”

  At the mention of her name, Victoria frowned and mouthed the word, “What?”

  Leighton said, “I should call Mrs. Van Orr and give her the news. She has a right to know.”

  “Of course. Yes.” Steve wondered if he should pass the phone or let Leighton handle the call himself.

  His internal dialogue was cut short when Victoria poked him in his sore ribs and said, “Tell me.”

  Leighton made a rumbling noise in his throat. To the untrained ear it sounded like laughter, but after long experience Steve knew better. What he heard was sarcasm disguised as humor.

  “Don’t open your mouth,” Steve warned.

  “Put her on the horn,” the lieutenant replied. His voice shook with grave amusement.

  Steve passed the phone.

  Victoria took the cell with seeming nonchalance and a cool “Hello” that dared Leighton to make a sarcastic remark. “Do you know that Bruce Mitchell is a doll collector? He told me about his extensive collection when he came to my home last year.”

  “I bet he fences stolen goods to fund his hobby,” Leighton replied.

  Victoria nodded. “Glad you agree. Thanks for calling, lieutenant.” She passed the cell back to Steve.

  “So, what now?” Steve asked the cop.

  “We interview them and hope for a full confession. It sure would make my life easier, but that ain’t gonna happen. Without an admission of guilt, or hard evidence, we can’t charge them with anything more than receiving stolen goods. The burglary charge will never stick. The case is as shaky as my grandmother’s bones.”

  “Do you think these guys acted alone? Lifting that much antique furniture into a truck is heavy work. Vega is a small man and Bruce is a lightweight. I smell a team.”

  Norm cleared his throat. Steve could hear him scratch his stubbly chin against the receiver. “You should be a cop in your spare time, Carlson.”

  “I’ll leave the sleuthing to you, but I appreciate the call. I’ll wait to hear from you until you have more.”

  Steve returned the cell phone to the nightstand and turned to face Victoria. “Well, that’s encouraging. Now all we have to do is find the rest of the haul.”

  “If there is a rest to find. That could take years.” She sucked her teeth and nibbled the inside of her cheek. “Who knows where the items might have gone.”

  “Well, at least Mitchell and Vega are off our backs. That’s a huge load off my chest.”

  Victoria’s lips curved into a sly grin. “Which is it, your back or your chest? Make up your mind.”

  Steve reached out and tickled her sides. Victoria squealed before pushing his hands away. He stopped tickling and nuzzled her neck. “I feel like celebrating with some breakfast.”

  Victoria looked at the clock. “Are you kidding? It’s only four in the morning.”

  “Yeah, well, this breakfast has zero calories and isn’t filling.” His erection brushed her thigh.

  “Oh…” Victoria’s eyes widened. She grinned and dragged her tongue over her bottom lip in an obvious taunt.

  “You…” He rolled over and pushed her down onto the bed until her head touched the p
illow. He reached for a condom on the bedside table and tore open the package.

  *****

  They padded naked to the shower and stepped into the cool tile stall. Hot water cascaded over Victoria’s body like soothing fingers. She lifted her face to the jets and smiled into the spray like a woman bursting with a priceless secret. Knowing pleasure was definitely not the same thing as finding satisfaction. Heat poured over her skin, renewing her on the outside the way the night had done on the inside.

  Steve stood behind her and washed her back with strawberry soap. Bubbles gathered between her toes and she wiggled them, watching as the remnants of their lovemaking swirled down the drain. That it was over made her a little sad. But as Steve kneaded her spine with the fragrant soap and leaned into her to kiss the back of her neck, she brightened with the knowledge that more nights of bliss lay ahead.

  He brought his hands down over her shoulders and glided the cake of soap over her bare skin. She leaned back against his chest and closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hands caressing her body.

  He placed the soap in its holder and picked up the bottle of Victoria’s favorite French shampoo. After pouring the pink liquid into his hands, he touched it to her hair. Victoria moaned with pleasure as he worked the soap into lather.

  “Hmm, no one has ever done this for me before.” Tingles threaded their way along her neck and shoulders and down her arms to her fingertips.

  His strong fingers drew circles around her temples and then along her hairline in a soothing scalp massage. “I want to be the only one who does these things for you.”

  “You already have…are…the one…” she murmured, reveling in the feel of his fingers.

  He turned her around to face him and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Longing coursed through her as she returned his kiss.

  “I love you,” he said, at last, wrapping his arms around her.

  He loved her. Victoria rested her head against his chest and kissed the alert nipples she’d learned were as sensitive as her own. She ran her palm over his abs and shivered with delight at her own instant arousal. She loved to touch him but wasn’t ready to declare her feelings.