Page 117

Dana’spale skin glowed blue in the slash of moonlight spilling in through the bedroom window. Jake stripped away her top, his fingers trembling with restraint. He’d waited too long to rush. She stepped closer, out of the moonlight, to slip her hands beneath his shirt. Jake yanked it over his head, eager to feel her touch.

She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss him. It was deep, passionate, and nearly his undoing. Taking control, Jake walked Dana backward until her back was pressed against the wall. Bathed in moonlight once more, Jake kissed a slow path from her jaw to the hollow at her throat. When he reached the silver scar at her collarbone he paused, flicking his eyes up to ask permission. Dana tilted her head back further in invitation.

Jake slowly pressed his lips to the delicate flesh of her scar tissue where the bullet had entered. His bullet. He hadn’t known it then, but that horrible moment years ago was when it happened. When he fell for her. The brilliant, fearless doctor had stolen his heart.

He still hated the memory. Hated that he’d ever caused her pain. All he wanted now was to kiss every inch of her, to erase every scar and painful memory and replace it with this. Them. Passion.

The ache building inside him was exquisite as he kissed his way down her arm, stopping to press his lips to the tender flesh of another scar on her palm. He looked her in the eye as he did so, knowing she was remembering it, too. The night she’d cut herself in his kitchen and finally let him in. That night she’d peeled away another layer of his armor.

A tear rolled down Dana’s cheek and Jake wiped it away, pulling her closer. She whispered his name like a prayer, and his lips swallowed the word with fervor. Jake carried her to the bed. Lying back, he settled her on top of him, letting her take control.

Dana ran her hands over his chest, making his eyelids heavy. But he wanted to see, wanted to burn every second of this into his memory. She traced his scars, a patchwork of pain that covered most of his chest and back. But she didn’t shy away. She never had.

It was in this very room where she’d reached out and touched him for the first time. Jake remembered the moment with searing clarity. It was the first time he hadn’t wanted to cringe away from the guilt and pain that flooded him each time someone bore witness to his scars; his violent past. But Dana’s touch was liberating. He’d never wanted her more than that night.

It had killed Jake to walk away from her then. Bliss overwhelmed him now, knowing he’d never have to walk away again.

Dana leaned forward to kiss him; her gorgeous brown hair draped around them like a veil shutting out the rest of the world. Jake could stay here forever, in this undiluted sanctuary, worshiping at her altar until the end of time.

When her nimble fingers fumbled with his belt, he shifted, pulling Dana beneath him. She lay on the bed, grinning up at him with unrestrained desire.

Unspoken emotion swelled within him as he thought of all they’d endured—the pain, loss, heartache—it somehow all felt worth it in this moment. Grinning back at her, he picked up where she’d left off on his belt, but a flash of light stopped him.

Dana paused too, both of them staring at each other in confusion as the light grew brighter, until the source bore into the room with blinding ferocity—headlights.

“Who knows we’re here?” Dana asked, sitting up and covering herself with the sheets.

“No one,” Jake said, quickly climbing out of bed, Dana right behind him.

They both dressed quickly to the sound of car doors closing outside the cabin.

“Get your gun,” Jake said, grabbing his own from the nightstand. “Wake Claire.”