Sunsets & Seduction: Mine Until Morning / Just for the Night / Kept in the Dark

He pulled her against him, fitting her to him tightly as he deepened the kiss. She didn’t resist, letting him take his fill, and getting hers in return. But for all the desire and passion between them, she couldn’t help but think there was something else Jonas hadn’t told her. Some other secret that stayed between them in the dark.

ELY SNUCK THE KEYS out of Chloe’s pocket as he pressed her against the doorjamb, her arms locked around his neck, their kisses even hungrier after their backseat encounter.

She was gorgeous, he thought, sliding the key effortlessly into the lock and opening the door without missing a beat, getting them inside where they could dispose of soaking-wet clothes and he could take his time with her.

“You have great hand-eye coordination,” she said against his mouth.

“I was very motivated to get that door open and get us inside,” he responded as he deftly undid the buttons on her wet blouse.

“I wasn’t talking about opening the door,” she rejoined, nibbling at his bottom lip, making him laugh and groan at the same time.

She tried the light switch on the wall, but apparently the power was still out.

He felt … light. For the first time in recent memory.

“I’m glad you stuck to your old habits,” he said, thankful he’d gone to the bar and that she had walked in.

“Me, too,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his face, running her fingers over the stubble of his jaw. “Let me get out of these clothes—”

“My thinking exactly,” he interrupted.

She laughed, and he liked how it infused her entire expression with warmth. Her laugh reverberated through her entire body, the cool, distant reporter erased, a vibrant, passionate woman revealed.

He’d known there was magic between them before, but he’d been too raw then, too fresh from his return to be good for anyone. He hadn’t been ready for more then, but he was now.

“How about we get dry, have a glass of wine … take our time,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again. “No need to rush.”

He nodded, sighing. “You’re right. There’s time,” he agreed.

It was a luxury he was still getting used to. Time had seemed to stop in Afghanistan, and since then, it was punctuated by the start and stop of various jobs where he’d experienced things that often made him acutely aware of how time often ran out.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his.

They walked into her bedroom, and he watched as she moved around the room, lighting several candles set on dressers and tables. The warm light revealed ultrafeminine decor that he only vaguely remembered, taking in the thick, old-fashioned quilt of cream and roses, the ornate, Victorian lamps and lacy curtains. It spoke to the old-fashioned, traditional woman who lived beneath the image of the hardened career woman.

The space was so feminine it made him feel too big and cumbersome, like if he moved, he’d break something. Classic bull in a china shop. At the same time, he liked it very much. She was different than the other women he knew in a way that spoke to him.

“You’re quiet,” she said, stripping down to the black bra and panties that took his attention away from the room altogether.

She had an amazing body, all legs, curves and delectable soft spots he loved to explore and hadn’t gotten nearly enough of. The soft, flickering candlelight completed the fantasy.

He grinned, shucking his shirt, liking the way she looked at him when he did so. “Just taking in the room, and you,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her and making her laugh.

“You’re different now,” she said, watching him closely.

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“You were so closed off back then. I know that interview was torture for you,” she said.

“I was still adjusting. It’s disorienting, being in the desert one day and back here the next, surrounded by people who all want something from you.”

“You never said much, even during our night together.”

He didn’t remember that. He remembered touching her and losing himself in what she’d offered him. But now he realized how selfish he’d been.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself then. I should have walked away when you asked me back to your place, but—”

He’d needed the comfort, but more than that, something about her had beckoned him. Something about Chloe had given him what he needed, which was way more than sex, even though he didn’t recognize it at the time.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I only wish you hadn’t walked away after,” she said. “Are you going to walk away again now? Am I going to wake up in the morning to find you gone again?”

“No,” he said simply, the word his promise.

“Okay,” she said, accepting it.

She put on her robe, and then grabbed another one from the closet, handing it to him.

He took the garment, staring at it for a moment. It was definitely a guy’s, and that bothered him for a second. He looked up to see her staring at him, one eyebrow arched.

“What? Did you think that I didn’t sleep with anyone for three years, just waiting for you to come back?” she asked, smiling, though there was no barb in the question.

He took a breath. “No, not that. Hell, I didn’t even really know I was looking for you again until tonight … or maybe I knew it all along, since I got down here in Norfolk. I was reading your articles … you’re still an amazing journalist,” he said, and saw pleasure bloom in her expression. “An amazing woman.”

“I kept track of you, too,” she admitted, turning to the dresser and fussing with something, opening a drawer where she put some items, and closed it again. “I often thought of contacting you, but I don’t go begging. Though you were the first man who made me consider it,” she said, walking up close and sliding her hands over his chest.

“I don’t imagine you were a saint either.”

He frowned. No, he hadn’t been a saint. There had been some women, several, in fact, but none that really mattered. None he ever saw again or sought out.

“Let’s not talk about the past. It’s done,” he said. “The present—and the future—are much more promising.”

“I like the sound of that,” she agreed.

She seemed smaller here, more fragile and feminine, her hair undone and curling from the rain, falling down over her shoulders. He slid his hands through it, feeling possessive and lucky—why did he wait so long?

Her mouth was like velvet, and he let his robe drop to the floor as he dived the other hand into her hair, kissing her until she was trembling with need. Possessing her.

His, he thought.

“Ely,” she said his name on a breath when he released her lips. He was sure he couldn’t hear it enough, wanted to make her scream it.

Falling to his knees, he undid her robe, slid his hands up her legs, parting her slim, silky thighs. Parting the soft folds of her sex with his fingers, he tasted her lightly at first, but as she heated up, becoming slick, he lost himself in kissing her, sucking the hard, aroused pearl of her clit between his lips.

Chloe knew how to take charge—one of the things he loved about her—and her hands held his head, directing him, pressing and urging until he gave her everything she wanted, which he was more than happy to do.

She did scream his name when she came, and he didn’t let it end there, making her crest one more time. She sagged against him as he stood and took her in his arms.

Her cheeks were flushed with satisfaction, her pupils dilated, mouth soft as he kissed her fully. He wanted her again, but also wanted to wait. He needed her to know that he could be there for her, not always satisfying his own needs, oblivious to others as he had been before, when he left her.

They had time. He’d make it up to her.

“How about that glass of wine?” he asked. “Maybe something to eat to go with it?”

She nodded against his shoulder.

“I have to wait for my knees to feel solid again,” she said, gazing at him with eyes he thought he might like to see staring at him every morning. Eyes he might like to see on smaller versions of both of them.

Whoa, Marine, he cautioned himself. Slow down a little there.

But Ely had always led the charge, committed to the mission, focused on the target. He didn’t see the point in second thoughts or delaying action.

“I can help with that,” he said huskily, bending down and scooping her up, smiling at her gasp of surprise as she linked her hands around his neck and held on.

“Ely, this is hardly necessary,” she said, laughing as he carried her out to the living room.

“But it is fun,” he said, kissing her nose as he deposited her on the sofa.

“Matches?” he asked, noting more candles on the fireplace mantel.

“Up by the picture of my father,” she directed, pointing.

He saw the picture, and grabbed the box of stick matches, lighting one, taking in the portrait.

“Navy officer,” he observed, sliding her a glance. Her father was a highly decorated submariner.

“Yes. Retired now.”

“You never mentioned him.”

“You never asked.”

It was true, he hadn’t. Besides the interview, where she had focused on his life, they hadn’t talked much at all.

He lit the candles, and then walked to the kitchen, telling her to stay put. He had a lot of making up to do.

Coming back with a tray of cheese, fruit and crackers and a bottle of wine, he joined her on the sofa.

“Well, now I am feeling very spoiled,” she said, taking a glass of wine from him. “I could get used to that.”

“All part of my evil plan,” he agreed, taking some cheese and crackers, and settling back with his own glass.

“So where are your parents? Norfolk?” he asked, intent on learning as much as he could about her.

“The house is in Annapolis, but they aren’t there much. My dad has his sailboat there, and they live on the water for most of the year, sailing to vacation spots. They fly back from wherever they are for holidays, and seem to be enjoying life.”

“Sounds like the perfect retirement.”

“I don’t know that I’d want to spend that much time on the water, but my mother loves it. And for so many years they were apart when he was at sea.”

“Squid are a species unto their own,” he said, shaking his head. “The idea of spending that much time under water gives me the heebies,” he admitted.

“Seriously? I thought big tough Marines weren’t afraid of anything?”

“I didn’t say I was afraid,” he corrected, puffing out his chest. “Just that I’m not particularly fond of the idea of being under several hundred feet of water.”

“Ah, okay, I see the distinction,” she said.

“Thank you.”

She grinned and threw a grape at him, which he caught in his mouth.

“So what about your brothers? I was sorry to read about Garrett losing his wife—how tragic,” she said, more serious.

“It was beyond tragic. We weren’t sure he was going to make it through for a while,” Ely said, still feeling punched in the chest when he thought about his older brother’s loss. He’d liked Lainey a lot, too. It had been a loss for all of them.

“And Jonas, Chance? They’re well? Married?”

“Chance is Chance. I don’t think he’ll ever settle down, or find a woman who can put up with his need to jump off high things every other day,” he said, laughing. “But Jonas has been in tough shape.”

Ely related the story of Jonas’s protection detail, and about the loss of his sight.

“That’s terrible!” Chloe commiserated. “But he’ll get it back?”

“So they say. No word yet.”

“And you said he’s involved with Tessa Rose, James Rose’s daughter?” she asked in a tone that alerted Ely’s radar.

“Well, it seemed that way, until he backed off big-time after the accident. But she keeps coming around. That’s like one determined lady,” he admitted. “Why?”

He liked Tessa, actually, and thought it was high time his older brother found a steady woman, but Jonas was even more of a lone wolf than Ely had ever been.

Even with his own brothers, Jonas had always held himself separate to some degree. When they were kids, Jonas was the one who spent more time doing his own thing rather than playing in a group, who spent more time in his room, reading or studying, than out partying in college.

He’d become even more isolated after he left the police department, or so Garrett and Chance reported. Ely had been off to basic training back then, and had only heard of what happened to his brother.

Jonas didn’t talk about what went down when he’d been caught in an undercover mess, but Ely knew it wasn’t the way the papers had painted it. After being in a war, he knew exactly how the media could spin things.

Chloe shifted uncomfortably, taking another sip of her wine before she replied, and then he felt her reporter persona slip back in place, the distance reasserting itself.

He was willing to bet she knew something about James Rose that she didn’t want to share.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“There’s a huge story breaking in a few hours,” she said. “Rose’s office is one of the ones that will be implicated.”

“For what?”

“There’s an embezzlement ring on the Hill. Several aides have been using their resources to siphon off funds from campaign coffers, using it for all manner of criminal business. I was clued in, and it’s going to be a huge scandal,” she said, her eyes lighting up.

“And Rose is in the middle of this?”

“Not him directly—but his aide, yes. You can’t say anything about this, Ely, not until the story breaks. The arrests won’t happen until morning, right before.”

Ely smiled at how her color rose and her eyes brightened at the prospect of a hot story. She was passionate about her work. It was one of the things he loved about her.

“I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Still, his mind went to his brother and Tessa. They weren’t together, but he hoped none of this would hurt the reputation of their agency.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, and not even a little glad,” he said. “That guy, the aide, Howie Stanton, is a slug. He came to the hospital the night Jonas was admitted and told him if he went near Tessa again, there would be bad consequences for the business.”

“You’re kidding. Well, the only bad consequences I see are ones coming down on him.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ely said, smiling.

Chloe was the kind of woman men dreamed about. Beautiful, smart and sexy, she knew how to do her job. It was one of the things he found sexiest about her.

Setting down her wine and reaching to take his glass, her eyes told him she didn’t want to talk anymore. Loosening the tie of his robe, she trailed kisses down his chest, obviously intent on ending the conversation and returning the pleasure he’d provided her earlier.

Ely was determined to be a better man this time, to not be as selfish and self-involved as he was when he’d first been with Chloe.

He also loved how she took control and pushed him back to the cushions, focused on her task.

She stroked his erection, looking at him with sheer pleasure and mischievous intent as her tongue darted out, tasting him, making him catch his breath.

“You stay put, Marine, and don’t come until I tell you to. That’s an order,” she commanded with mock seriousness as she closed her mouth around him, sending his heart rate through the roof.

Ely gladly submitted. He was trained to take orders, and knew he wouldn’t disobey this one if his life depended on it.

8

3:00 a.m.

TESSA WAS EXHAUSTED and had actually nodded off for a few minutes curled up on the seat, her head cradled on Jonas’s shoulder as Collins took them back to the store. The intimacy of the night and the dark in the restaurant was giving way to morning, allowing her some light to study him.

He was dozing, too, the manly lines of his face softened in sleep. She stared at the fullness of his mouth, which she couldn’t get enough of. He looked peaceful, which was rare for him, she thought. They’d turned a corner of sorts, leaving the restaurant with the connection between them stronger.

Still, she worried. She hadn’t asked Jonas the question she was dying to: why he had thought so badly about her after the accident. What had Howie said to him? Was her father up to his old tricks, controlling her life, and her love life?

Jonas was clearly under the impression that she had used him to get back at her father, or that her father had not thought he was “suitable” enough for her. There were things going on beneath the surface, and Tessa planned to find out what they were.

One thing she knew for sure was that Howie was a snake. She’d never liked him. Her father had suggested once that Howie had an interest in her, and that they would make a “solid match.” The thought made her gag. Her father occasionally pushed one of his plastic political harpies in her direction, even though she never showed any interest.

Jonas said she didn’t care about the cost to others. What costs? Could her father have threatened his business? She wouldn’t put it past him.

Jonas didn’t deserve any negative flak for what happened that night they’d been attacked. He stepped up to protect others, but leaned on no one. There was a loneliness at his core that made her ache to change it, to make him see how much she cared for him.

How much she loved him.

She wasn’t afraid of the word. She’d often wondered if she would find anyone that she’d truly fall in love with. Then Jonas had walked into her shop, and she knew she had found the other half of her perfect combination.

She leaned in, snuggling into his shoulder again and loving how his arm came back around her so naturally. Turning her face into his chest, she inhaled, enjoying his natural scent, how it mingled with hers. Their bodies loved each other, but how could she convince him it was more than that?

Tessa had been fighting for what she wanted in life since she could remember, against her father, mainly. But also against the world in general or at least it always felt that way. Everyone always assumed the worst of her, and so she had once decided to walk the talk.

Even friends had often thought that as the daughter of a wealthy politician, she would never have to work for anything in her life. That it all would be handed to her.

It could have gone that way, had she made other decisions. She’d taken a very different path, and was glad for it. She hoped Jonas was coming to see who she really was, too.

“I can see you thinking,” Jonas said sleepily, and she looked up to find he was watching her. “What about?”

“Just about you. Us.”

“How so?”

“When I said, back at the restaurant, that we fit … I don’t know. It just seemed like you were holding back. I was wondering why. And what you aren’t telling me.”

“We do fit. In some ways. And in others—we don’t.”

“Like?”

“Like physically. Otherwise, we come from very different worlds. You wouldn’t be happy in mine, not for long. And vice versa.”

“You hardly know me, Jonas. How do you know what would make me happy?”

“I’ve been through this before. My job is dangerous.”

“I know that.”

“And it’s not great for relationships, let me tell you. If you and I were together, I might have to go on a job where I would be protecting someone, another woman, and living at her side for weeks—how would you deal with that? If the tables were turned, I wouldn’t like it one bit.”

“I agree, that would be hard. But there are four of you, and you can divide the jobs accordingly, right? But if you had to do that, well, I guess I would just have to trust you. That’s what we’re talking about, right? It’s not about different worlds, or your job or mine—it’s about the fact that down deep, for whatever reason, you don’t trust me. I’d like to know why. Do you really think I am so superficial that I would use you or anyone just to get at my father?”

Silence loomed between them, and the hurt spread from her heart to encompass her entirely, the same way the dark restaurant had done.

“I guess that’s my answer,” she said, twisting away.

“Tess, stop. Listen. I want to trust you, but I don’t understand why you did what you did.”

“Which was?”

He took a deep breath, and let it out. “Why you told your father’s aide about our … kiss that night. Why you made it sound like I had initiated it, but more than that, I wonder why you told them at all? That was private, between us. I could only assume that—”

“That I had seduced you, and then run to tell my father about it as fast as I could and blamed it on you as a way to get out of having a bodyguard, and to shove it back in my father’s face.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Here’s a news flash, Jonas,” she said. “I’m all grown up now, and I don’t play those games anymore. I’m not my father. What you see is what you get.”

“Well, your father was pretty pissed. He took me off the job, and his aide suggested that there could be trouble for me and my brothers if I got anywhere near you.”

Tessa’s mind went still. So she was right in her intuition. Her father had found a way to come between her and a man she wanted. Or had she done that all on her own? She hadn’t been entirely forthright with Jonas from the start—he may have made the first move that night, but only because she had been pushing him to.

“Listen, I remember showing them where we were standing when the attack happened. Howie was there. Where you had fallen back, and how I had grabbed the bat, but I didn’t say anything about us kissing. I guess they could have assumed, but I swear, I didn’t tell them what was going on,” she said. “And if anyone is playing games here, it’s the senator. I told you what he did before, with my college boyfriend. He may like you working for him, but—”

“He wouldn’t think I was good enough for his daughter,” Jonas finished flatly, and she nodded.

“It’s possible. He sees everything as reflecting on him, his career. But I don’t think that. I never thought that. I never would use you. Not like you thought I did.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold. Then Jonas was there, pulling her in, holding her tight.

“I’m sorry, too. I was such a mess at the time, but I should have told you about my sight. I should have asked you before I assumed what had happened. I believe you, Tessa,” he said, kissing her cheek gently and taking her arms from around her middle, twining them around his back.

She held on tight, seeking a deeper kiss, as if trying to let him know with her whole body how much she cared, and how much she never would cause him any pain, not if she could help it.

Heat rose between them, but this wasn’t the place to pursue their newfound intimacy.

“I want to talk to my father as soon as possible about what happened that night, and set it right. I absolutely will not let him blame you for something that was not your fault at all,” she said vehemently.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly blameless, Tessa. And I would rather you didn’t talk to your father, if that’s okay. I can handle it. Let’s set it aside for now, okay?”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. She wasn’t surprised that he would want to handle it on his own, but still felt that she should do something to make it right.

The car stopped, and she frowned, hearing the sound of music playing out in the neighborhood, resisting the urge to argue with him for the moment.

“The electricity is back on,” she said, but saw no evidence of that except for the music. The streetlights were still out, though the dawn was bathing the street in soft, after-storm light.

“Thank you so much, Collins. It was so nice to meet you. Tell Kate I will be in later today to check on her and help her get home,” Tessa said, offering the older man a hug, which surprised him, and which he seemed happy to accept.

Jonas shook Collins’s hand, and they waited as the car left.