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home one day and found me curled up in the corner. I couldn’t deal with losing you anymore. So I went away and they medicated me and I learned not to hurt so much.”

“By giving up,” Elissa said bitterly. Her worst fears had been confirmed. She wasn’t sure whom she hated more—herself for making this all happen or her mother for not being strong enough to keep looking no matter what.

Her mother’s mouth tightened. “You’re right. I gave up.”

Zoe bounced through the front door and ran toward the car. “I’m ready,” she yelled.

“I’ll have her back tomorrow by six,” Elissa’s mother said, then she helped Zoe into the car and fastened the seat belt.

Elissa felt as if she’d been hit with a steel beam. Even her bones hurt. Emotionally, she was an open, raw wound. She could barely wave back when Zoe called “Goodbye.”

The small Lexus backed out of the driveway, then drove down the street. Elissa felt herself begin to tremble. Her muscles gave way and she would have fallen, except for a strong pair of arms that caught her.

She recognized the scent and feel of the man, even as he picked her up and carried her into her apartment. When Walker put her gently on the sofa, she allowed herself to lean against him.

“You heard,” she whispered.

“The whole block heard.”

“I live to entertain my neighbors.”

“You’ve been pretty quiet to date. I think you were due.”

She tried to smile, but couldn’t. Then she raised her face and stared into his dark eyes. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Because life’s a bitch.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it better.”

And then the man who had warned her he couldn’t be trusted bent his head and kissed her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ELISSA KNEW THIS was a bad idea. The last time she and Walker had started down this path, things had gotten out of hand and she’d ended up feeling hurt.

But he kissed her so gently, so carefully, that she wasn’t sure how to resist. Still, when he drew back slightly, she opened her eyes and said, “Don’t be a jerk again.”

One corner of his mouth curved up. “I promise. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

“I’m not sure I want that, either.”

“Then what do you want?”

An interesting question and one she didn’t know how to answer.

He leaned in and just before his mouth brushed hers he said, “Please, Elissa.”

The quiet plea was more than she could withstand. She gave in to both the request and the touch by placing her hands on his chest and parting her lips.

He swept his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of coffee and something sweet. He smelled like soap. He’d obviously recently showered because his hair was damp and his skin freshly shaven.

While his tongue circled hers, teasing, arousing, exciting, she rubbed her palms against the hard planes of his chest. Beneath the worn T-shirt and smooth skin was a layer of muscle that rippled with her every touch.

Suddenly she wanted to be touching that skin. She tugged on the shirt. He broke their kiss long enough to pull it over his head. Then he grabbed her hands and pressed them against his body, as if he needed to feel her caressing him as much as she wanted to be doing it.

As she explored his chest, his shoulders and arms, he bent over her. He kissed her jaw, then along her neck. One arm came around her. He rested his other hand on her belly, then moved it slowly up to her breasts. Her nipples tightened, her insides grew heavy and between her legs she felt both heat and moisture.

Then his mouth was on hers again. Deep kisses took her breath away. She lost herself in the sensations he created. He used his hand to lazily explore her breasts. He brushed against her nipples, one at a time.

Fire shot through her. Fire and need and a desperation that made her feel both weak and powerful.

“I want you,” he breathed. “Elissa. I want you.”

They were words to soothe a battered soul. She nipped his lower lip, then stood and held out her hand. He rose and allowed her to lead him down the short hall to her bedroom.

She hadn’t bothered to make her bed, but the tangle of sheets and blanket didn’t seem to be a problem. The second they came to a stop, Walker sat down and pulled off his athletic shoes and socks. As she watched, he unfastened his jeans, then pushed them and his boxers down and stepped away from his clothing.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His chest was smooth and highly defined by muscle. Several scars, some old and faded and some still angry and red, marred his warm skin. His chest tapered to a narrow waist that naturally led the eye to a very impressive erection jutting toward her.

Her insides tightened in anticipation. It was all she could do not to rip her clothes off and beg him to take her right there. She’d been without for so long, she could barely remember what it felt like to have a man inside of her, filling her over and over again until she had no choice but to surrender.

And while that was her goal, a woman had to be practical.

“Condoms,” she said as she ripped open her nightstand drawer and started rooting around.

Behind her, Walker swore. “I didn’t think to bring any. I have some upstairs.”

“I think I have some, too.”

She could practically hear him raising his eyebrows. “What happened to the no-man plan?”

“It’s a goal, but I’m human. I can be weak from time to time. In case that happened, I wanted to be prepared. Aha.”

She drew out a small box from under a tube of hand cream and held them up.

He walked toward her, relieved her of the box and put the condoms on the nightstand.

“Only three,” he said. “Not nearly enough.”

If he’d been trying to impress her, he’d done a fine

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