It was that same beast on the inside that demanded that I show Roark exactly what he was missing. I wanted her, and I had known that I was so exposed, so unsteady with emotion after Bax had finally woken up, that any kind of sympathy or kindness on her lovely face was going to have me climbing all over her. It was an added bonus that I got to cram that fact right down Roark’s throat. It was crude. It was classless and she and I both deserved better than that, but the second she told me everything was going to be okay, I lost it. I may have taken it too far, lost my mind with hunger and need, but the end result would’ve been the same. I would have taken her. I was bound to lose myself in her whether Roark was watching or not. It was an added bonus that the stab of revenge felt good. I just hoped she wouldn’t hold it against me. I planned on explaining it all to her and clarifying my moment of insanity and lust once I got a few hours of sleep and my brain didn’t feel like it was made of cotton candy.

I got out of the shower, rubbed a towel over my head, and wrapped another one around my waist. The bed that lived on the massive elevated platform looked like heaven and I could hardly keep my eyes open as I stumbled toward it. I was so tired I didn’t even notice that Reeve was sitting on the end of the mattress until I flopped down and almost kicked her. She had changed into a pair of skintight black pants and an oversize sweater that fell off of her shoulder and bared way too much creamy skin for my liking. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail on the top of her head and for all the world she looked like any normal, hot chick on her way to work at some trendy salon for the day. Nothing about this woman was normal and all the things that made her so complicated were the things that made her so tempting.

“Where do you think you’re going?” My voice sounded sluggish and heavy to my own ears.

“I need to run an errand. I’m going to have Booker take me. I need to get out of here for a few hours.”

She had been cooped up the entire time I was at the hospital. She was probably going stir-crazy. She was following orders and laying low. I was such an asshole for not thinking to borrow a phone or to even use the landline in Bax’s room to let her know what was going on. She deserved a break and a chance to get out of the loft, but selfish bastard that I was, I wanted her to stay with me. I wanted her to tell me it was going to be okay over and over again and I absolutely didn’t want her anywhere near Booker after what had just gone down between us in the living room. If I was functioning at full capacity, I might have been able to put all of what I was feeling and struggling with into words she could understand. Since I was only at half capacity I reverted back to the guy I always seemed to be around her, the one that was unhinged and greedy with want and need. The one that took without asking. The one that forgot to be civilized.

I levered myself up so that I could get my hands around her upper arms and pull her with me as I fell back on the bed so that she landed mostly on me. I rolled so that I was on my side and her back was pressed firmly against my front. The towel had been lost at some point but I was too exhausted to care and her rigid posture as I held her to me indicated she wasn’t the least bit interested in the fact that I was naked and holding her close. I didn’t care. I felt my heartbeat start to settle, felt my limbs start to get heavy and lax. I buried my nose in her hair and inhaled her flowery and girlie scent. Nothing in the city smelled that good.

“I need to sleep. Stay with me for an hour then I’ll take you wherever you need to go. I need to head back to the hospital anyway.” I sounded sleep drunk and I wasn’t sure the words made it out or if I just thought them as darkness started to pull me under.

She wiggled a little against me until I squeezed my arms even tighter around her and put a hand on her flat belly to keep her still. I made sure every inch of her was pressed up against every naked inch of me. That was what a real-life dream felt like.

“You’ll sleep better if you have the bed to yourself.” She whispered the words but I heard them loud and clear.

“No, I won’t. Everything seems to be better with you close by. Just give me an hour, Reeve. Please?” I inhaled her and knew there wasn’t going to be any fight left in me as soon as I exhaled. I always seemed to be asking her to give me things, which was so against my character. I never took for myself—at least I hadn’t until she came back to town.

I couldn’t stay awake any longer to see if she agreed to stay or not, but when sleep finally claimed me I went under thinking about a peaceful meadow and a sky that was about to turn midnight blue.

When I woke up the loft was dark and it was well into the afternoon. I had definitely slept more than an hour according to the digital clock next to my wallet, gun, and badge on the nightstand. I woke up alone. It shouldn’t have surprised me after the way I had manhandled her and been all over her like a maniac. She was tough but every girl needed a little bit of finesse and I had given her none. No matter what she may have done in the past, or the choices she made that kept us on different sides of the law, she still deserved what every other girl that was willing to give of herself deserved, and I had given her nothing when she deserved everything for taking care of me.

Swearing at myself, I threw an arm over my eyes and tried not to think of every single thing I had done wrong where Reeve was concerned. It all started when I turned her over to Roark to begin with. I shouldn’t have let a badge automatically lead me to believe he was one of the good guys. I knew better than that. It had been dirty cops that had dragged me beaten and bloody to Novak. Cops that had been on the crime bosses’ payroll since before I had even made detective. The good guys were getting harder and harder to come by and yet I had been so blinded by revulsion at her actions, so outraged that such a pretty girl had done such ugly and illegal things, that I wanted her out of sight and out of mind. I thought with her in the marshal’s hands the desire that kicked at me when I looked at her would stop warring with my head screaming at me that she was bad news. I wanted her to be someone else’s problem because I felt guilty for wanting her. I thought she was bad news but that didn’t stop me from admiring her bold honesty about the pretty messed-up things she had done. The push and pull of my feelings toward the troublesome beauty had me shoving her off as quickly as I could before I did something foolish like take her to bed or fall in love.

I heard the front door open with a quiet snick and then the click of shoes on the floor. I could tell she was trying to be quiet in case I was still asleep, so I called down to her, “I’m up.”