Dark Taste of Rapture
Dark Taste of Rapture (Alien Huntress #6)(41)
Author: Gena Showalter
“This was a mistake,” he said before she could utter another word.
Just her luck, they reached their destination a moment later. The car parked in front of a line of police tape. Hector didn’t push from the vehicle, but sat there, waiting for her response.
A mistake? A freaking mistake? Wow, that hurt. While she had luxuriated in what they could have done, could still do, he’d obviously been thinking of how to let her down without bloodshed.
Do not react. You suspected. She would paste a happy smile on her face, as always, and concentrate on the case.
The smile was a bit more difficult than usual to pull off, considering the emotional upheaval of the day. Needing a moment, she gazed outside, and yeah, she was highly aware she was acting like the very coward she’d denied being. The moon was full and golden. Other cars littered the area, official red and blue lights flashing. A wide, open field stretched in every direction, grass growing in patches, crisp leaves dancing in the gentle breeze.
Where was the slain human they were supposed to examine? She increased the periphery of her focus. About fifty yards of dirt had been sectioned off by that tape, but the handful of officers who were standing outside were talking rather than working.
“Noelle,” Hector said. “Did you hear me?”
Smile, damn you. “Of course I heard you. I’m sitting right beside you.” She added, “I guess I should have told mother dearest yes. Her old biddie of a friend thinks I’d be perfect for her son the surgeon.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Hector growled, then caught himself. “But whatever you want to do is fine.”
Smile! “And just so you know, this is gonna be Cherry Picking Barry all over again,” she said before she could stop herself. Cas, keep it cas.
She didn’t recognize any of the officers, none of them had attended the wedding, but that didn’t change the facts. One look at her and Hector in their upscale attire, and it would be assumed they’d been out on a date, with plans to get hot and heavy afterward.
Had Hector wanted to get hot and heavy with her, she would have smirked. Now … she just wanted to hide. “People are going to think you’re a god for possibly nailing me, while calling me all kinds of easy.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that—Wait. What?” He turned in his seat to at last stare over at her. Those golden eyes were bright with an emotion she couldn’t name. And maybe that was for the best. Just then, she could have removed his balls with the razor she had strapped to her thigh.
Why did no one want her for keeps?
“Who’s Barry?” Hector demanded, and this time she could read the emotion. Fury, lethal in a way only a man on the very edge could be.
On her behalf? Sweet of him, but she wouldn’t soften. “He’s the guy I oh, so generously gave my virginity to.” The rest spilled from her, her resentment no longer a living thing but sharper tonight because of the man beside her. “The next day, he told everyone what we’d done. All the guys slapped him on the back in a job well done, then tried to get into my pants as if they had a right to plant their flag, too, and all the girls but Ava treated me as if I had the plague. As if I would steal their boyfriends with my whoring ways.”
“Tell me you hurt him.”
“Me? No.” A true grin kicked at the corners of her mouth. “But Ava wrecked his car. Slammed his pride and joy right into his parents’ house.” Now that was friendship.
A tense pause. Then, “I would have killed him for you,” Hector said in a low, quiet voice that left no room for doubt. “I would have burned him and dumped the ashes in a pile of animal shit.”
“Really?” Damn it. She was softening. He doesn’t want to continue seeing you, remember?
His nostrils flared as if he could already smell the burning flesh. “Yeah, really.”
“Well, you still can. He lives in the Lakeshore Apartments on Lake Shore Drive. Number eighteen B.”
One of Hector’s brows arched, the gold in his eyes frosting over in that way of his. He wasn’t just on the edge of lethal—he’d already leapt and was falling. “You actually kept track of him. Why? Did you want to see him again?”
“Are you kidding? Hell, no, I don’t want to see him again, but someone has to send his wife pictures of his illicit activities, and that someone is me. Yeah, I’m a giver like that.”
A quicksilver blaze of amusement, gone before she could wonder at its source.
She waited, but Hector remained quiet and his expression never reverted back to … whatever. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said anyway. “Why’d I let him off with such a minor, lifelong punishment? Well, let me tell you a little something about me.” Something you might learn intimately, bubby. “If anyone so much as drops a beer can on my lawn I pay for DNA testing. The very day the results come in, I have two tons of trash dumped in their yard. I don’t get revenge, I teach valuable lessons. Barry’s still learning his.”
Hector massaged the back of his neck. “I’ll remember that.” His voice had dropped another octave, reminding her of when he’d pressed his erection between her legs. She shivered like the stupid girl she was. “Well, uh. Huh.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying. This was a mistake. Us messing around, not us showing up together.”
Smile—check. “I know that, too. No need to drive home the point.” Or rather, the dagger in her chest. “We’re not going to see each other romantically. No big deal.” Except, it was a big f**king deal!
Maintain your happy face.
His hand dropped from his nape to rest on the seat, his fingers digging into the upholstery with enough force to leave cracks. “It’s not because I don’t like you. It’s that I’m dangerous, Noelle. Really, really dangerous.”
“This is the AIR version of it’s not you it’s me, right?” she asked dryly. “If only you’d used it before, I would have known to use it on Dallas tonight.”
“No, damn it!” Back up the hand went, scrubbing down his face, leaving red marks. “Well, yes, it is a version of that, but it really is me. I want you, so damn badly I ache all the damn time, but I can’t do relationships. I just can’t. Damn it!” So many damns.
Something in his tormented expression thrust its way past her defenses and clanged a warning. He wasn’t just spouting nonsense to get rid of her. He believed what he said wholeheartedly. He wanted her—craved her, ached for her—but he couldn’t let himself have her.