Aussie Rules (29 page)

He missed Australia, but if he left here, he'd miss this, too. He loved the ocean, he'd discovered. He loved the lush landscape.

He loved the woman wrapped around him like saran wrap.

She sank her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down to kiss him, dancing her tongue to his, and just like that, he was a goner. Send in a rescue plane, he was going down. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed, and tossed the lease over his shoulder, hauling her up against him, kicking the door closed. “A bed,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want you in my bed, beneath me, panting my name, coming…”

“Yes.”

But halfway there he had to press her back against the wall in his hallway, kissing her mouth, her neck, anything he could reach. She rocked against him with a sexy little whimper, and he could barely stand it, this need to inhale her whole.

“God, Bo—”

“I know.” He stripped off her tank top, then ripped open her jeans, unable to get to skin fast enough to suit him. Her jeans got caught on one leg, her tank on his arm, but she just laughed breathlessly and held on.

Held on as if she never intended to let go.

God, the amazing rush that gave him. For a moment he pressed his forehead to hers, just breathing her in, wanting to stop time right at this moment so he could soak her up. Lap her up. “
Mel
.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up, her legs around his waist, pressing the wet heat of her where he wanted it the most.

I love you
. The words wanted to burst from his throat, and it stunned him, the power of them, so that he could only stare down at her.

Her eyes were half-closed, with that sexy little smile curving her lips as she rocked against him again, that hot bod feeling so damn right against his. “I thought you wanted me in your bed,” she murmured.

Yeah, in his bed. And in his heart and soul, for the rest of his life, but he kept his mouth closed as he gazed down at her because he didn't want the words to escape, not when she might attribute them to just lust.

Because this was so, so much more.

“Please, Bo,” she whispered.

Yeah. He'd please. He'd please if it took all damn night. Somehow he got them to his bed, then crawled up her body and slid inside her.

“Oh, my God.” Arching up, she closed her eyes.

“No, leave them open, Mel. Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open as if at great effort, then locked on his. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

She started to shake her head but he just nodded. “You are. So damned beautiful I can't stop looking at you.”

She stared up at him, her arms locked around his neck. She sent him a shaky smile that he managed to return, but it backed up in his throat as he began to move, as she gasped and pulled him even closer, struggling to keep her eyes open on his. She moved with him, and with their eyes locked, something extremely deep and real passed between them.
I love you
, he thought again, his last coherent thought for a good long time…

 

Mel woke up in Bo's bed, burrowed beneath the covers, a pillow over her head. Seemed she'd gotten pretty comfortable, sleeping easily next to his muscular, warm body…

The thought of him brought a smile to her lips and she pushed the pillow away and blankets off. The early-morning sun slanted across her face. Squinting, she turned her head and reached across the bed.

Still warm, but no Bo.

The shower was running, and she lay back and grinned up at the ceiling, wondering how long he'd been in there…if he still had enough hot water left so that they could make it a twosome.

Odd, this wanting-to-stay thing. A first.

And here was another: she loved him.

Goofy with it, she sat up in the bed just as a scream sounded from the bathroom.

A
female
scream, followed by a gunshot.

T
he gunshot was accompanied by a crash and a thud, a second gunshot, and yet another scream.

Mel's heart stopped as she leapt out of bed and went running for the bathroom in nothing but Bo's T-shirt. She hauled the door open, then gasped in shock.

Bo stood in the shower, the door open, water raining out on the floor, holding a gun. There was glass everywhere, and above them, the light had been shot out.

On the floor, wet and looking extremely pissed, sat…Sally.

The years hadn't been particularly kind to her. Oh, she was still carefully gorgeous, with her long hair and wild blue eyes, with tanned, toned skin and a body most men would drool over, but she looked as if she'd been ridden hard and put away wet. She looked cold. Rough.

Mean. “Ah,
shit!
” she said at the sight of Mel. “What are
you
doing here?”

Dealing with stressful situations was like breathing for Mel, but this was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. She was looking at the woman she'd loved, deeply loved, after years of absence. This person was holding her arm and bleeding profusely all over the floor.

Mel's gaze whipped toward Bo, who still stood there, naked, water streaming down over his back and shoulders, holding a gun on Sally. “She tried to kill you,” Mel guessed, horrified.

“Luckily, she's a bad shot.” His eyes were still trained on Sally, gun steady.

“Bullshit, I'm a bad shot,” Sally spit out. “You grabbed my shooting arm.”

“And shot her?” Mel gasped.

Bo's mouth tightened, but Sally laughed harshly. “I damn well shot myself, thank you for asking. The bastard was going to wrestle me to the floor, the gun went off twice.”

“Oh, my God.” Mel put her hand to her mouth. He could have been killed. Just like that. Before she'd told him—

“Don't move,” Bo told Sally, who was creeping toward the door. “Don't fucking move.”

Sirens went off in the distance. “Well, that's just perfect.” Sally thunked her head back against the tile, pale and exhausted looking. “It's over. You should have left it all alone, Mel. Why couldn't you just have left it alone?”

“You gave Eddie the deed. You never even told us,” Mel said slowly, so many things going through her mind she could barely speak. “How did that happen?
Why
did that happen?”

“It was mine to give.”

“You should have told us.”

Sally laughed again, a cold sound. “It was just a means to an end.”

“The end being?”

“Cash.” Sally opened her eyes, and they were shockingly filled with honesty. Pain.

But no regret. Not even a little bit. “Men are scum of the earth, Mel. You know that by now. You've always known it. Look at your father. They all deserve what they get.”

“If that's true, why did you marry two of them?”

“Eight.”

“Eight?”

“And each of them left me a fortune, stupid bastards. It was a great gig, too. Until you started digging your nose in. That's when things began to unravel.”

“Yeah, you were in control right up until that point,” Bo said dryly, reaching behind him to turn off the water, gun still on Sally.

“I'm not going anywhere, stud,” Sally told him. “You win. You can lower that bad boy now.”

Bo kept the gun on her.

“Aw, jeez, at least wrap yourself in a towel.” Sally scooted a little closer to the door. “Not that you aren't impressive or anything…”

He was. Standing there naked, dripping wet, all his muscles seemed to glow. Unfortunately for Bo, he couldn't move without getting cut on the glass splintered at his feet, but he reached out and grabbed a towel, holding it in front of him.

The sirens grew louder.

“So let me get this straight,” Sally said to Bo, still bleeding profusely, and beginning to shiver in shock. “You sleeping with her to get back at me?”

Bo didn't answer, just kept the gun on her. Mel's heart took a little dive.

“Because I can see why you'd want to fuck her,” Sally said conversationally. “It'd be like fucking me over, right?”

A muscle jumped in Bo's jaw. “Stop trying to get to the door, damn it. You're not going anywhere except to a nice cold cell block.”

But Sally laughed harshly, then lunged for the door anyway, knocking Mel over as she went.

Surprised, Mel fell to the glass-covered floor.

Bo flew out of the shower and tackled Sally. They went rolling into the bedroom, out of Mel's sight.

The gun went off again.

Mel heard a scream, realized it was her own, and crawled out of the bathroom to see Bo and Sally locked together, rolling…blood everywhere. Again her heart stopped because she couldn't see who'd been hit. “Oh, God, oh, God!” she cried, terrified Bo was going to die, or maybe he was already dying. There was a planted pot on the nightstand, which she grabbed and ran over to the locked pair. Bo was on top and she raised the pot, thinking
move, move, goddamn it, move,
until finally, they rolled again.

Now Sally was on top, lifting her head, laughing coldly down at Bo. “You bastard—”

Mel cracked her in the back of the head with the pot.

Sally slumped and went still, and Bo crawled out from beneath her. Mel dove for him. “Where are you hit, Jesus, where?” Her hands ran all over him, everywhere she could touch.

“I'm okay, Mel, I'm okay.”

But she couldn't stop touching him, skimming her fingers over his body, which was, in fact, utterly free of bullet holes.

“Mel, stop.” He gathered her hands in his. “I'm okay. It's you.” He dragged her into his lap. “You're the one who's hurt,” he said hoarsely.

Yeah, she knew that, and the cuts were beginning to make themselves known, little bits of fire along her knees and feet, but she couldn't stop touching him. “I thought you were shot. I thought—”

“I'm okay, I promise.”

But she still flung her arms around his neck and let herself cling, just for a minute. “You feel okay.”

“I am. Mel, look at me.” Cupping her face up, he looked into her eyes. “I'm fine.”

“Good.” She gulped in air. “Because I'm not.”

“I know. You're cut from the glass.” His voice was hoarse with fear, for her, she realized, as he carefully lifted her and set her on his bed.

“No, it's not the cuts. Bo—”

“I didn't sleep with you to get back at her,” he said.

She looked into his eyes. “I know.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“Yeah. I do. But Bo? I, um, did something a little out of the norm for me. Like on Mars out of the norm, something…” She swallowed hard, managed a shaky smile. “Well, I sort of fell in love with you.”

Sally rolled to her back and groaned. “Are you kidding me? I'm lying here dying and you two are going to have a moment? Seriously?”

Bo lifted the gun on Sally again, all without taking his eyes off Mel. “Qualify ‘sort of.'”

“Sort of,” Mel said. “As in did.”

“Hey, my life is flashing before my eyes, people!” Sally yelled.

“You fell in love with me,” Bo repeated to Mel, looking dazed.

“Yes.”

“Unbelievable,”
Sally muttered.

“Shut up!” both Mel and Bo said to her at the same time.

“I know we're still working on the trust thing,” Mel said to Bo. “And I also know you're leaving, but it was just too much for me to keep inside, I'm sorry. It just popped out, without permission.”

He had a funny look on his face so she rushed to finish. “I don't mean to burden you, or make you feel—”

“You don't want to burden me with your feelings,” he repeated slowly.

“Right.” Why was he sounding like a parrot? “Or make you feel like you have to see me when you come back into town, I just—”

“Make me feel like I have to see you.” He shook his head. “Mel, have you ever known me to do anything I don't want to?”

“Well, no.”

“Or let someone
make
me do something?”

“No. But—”

“Yeah. Look, you're a little crooked on all this. Especially since I love you back.”

“You…” Her breath caught. “You do?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh, my God. I didn't imagine you'd—”

“Why not?”

“It's just that you have it so together, and I never seem to, and—”

“It's you.”

“What?”

“If I have it together,” he said. “It's because of you.”

Mel's eyes filled.
Damn it
.

“For years something's been missing,” Bo said to her. “I always thought it was my dad, or that I couldn't get the restoration business going, or maybe location…I always had a reason for not feeling…whole.”

Undone, she put her head to his chest. “Bo.”

“It's you, Mel. You make me feel whole.”

Her heart was so full she could hardly stand it. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” He sounded as if maybe his throat was as tight as hers, and his eyes were as shiny as they'd been when he'd first seen the Beechcraft again. “And I do love you, Mel. So much.” He took a deep breath. “But you're bleeding. You probably have glass embedded in your flesh, and I'm feeling a little drafty here, so—”

Two cops burst into the room, guns drawn. “Hands up!”

“Right on cue,” Bo said, and lifted his hands.

Mel, still on his lap, lifted her hands, too.

Sally just groaned.

“No one moves,” one of the cops said. “Until we straighten this out.”

Bo looked at Mel. “Actually, I'm good right here.”

Mel laughed through her tears and kissed him. “Me, too.”