Janelle Denison - Forbidden

His head shot up and his entire body tensed when he heard a noise from the other room. Christ, were the thugs still here? Then a low, choking noise followed-a sound that lifted the hairs at the back of his neck and turned him stone-cold.

He thought of Paige, sitting alone in the car. He thought of the possibility of one of Carranza’s men harming her, and knew they’d be dead before they realized he’d put a bullet through their heart.

Adrenaline and rage rushed through his veins as he moved silently toward the front rooms. Another indiscernible sound reached him. He rounded the last corner, his finger tight on the trigger, gun aimed and steady…right at Paige’s heart.

“JESUS, PAIGE, what in the hell possessed you to do something so incredibly stupid?” Josh’s voice was a low roar in the small motel room he’d secured for them for the night. “I could have killed you!”

Paige glared at him, but didn’t move from where she stood by the closed, locked and chained motel room door. The raw energy and tension radiating off Josh was nearly tangible, and though she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by his grim expression or dark tone of voice, she knew better than to get near the eye of a hurricane.

Admittedly, she’d been horrified and shaken by what she’d witnessed back at her house, not to mention terrified by the way Josh had snuck up on her and confronted her with his drawn gun. Now that her shock had had time to ebb, she felt angry, completely violated, and in no mood for one of Josh’s lectures.

After that frightening ordeal in her living room over half an hour ago, Josh had promptly issued a vile string of curses, holstered his gun, and then, with a tenacious grip on her arm, had ushered her out of the house and back into the car. She’d complied with no argument; the vandalism and wreckage within her house had rendered her speechless.

He’d restrained his fury during the call he’d immediately placed to Lieutenant Reynolds on his cell phone to report the break-in and to let his senior officer know where they’d be staying for the night. He’d fumed the short distance to the motel, his jaw clenched hard, his entire body rigid. He’d even managed to control his temper when he’d arranged a room for them and she’d primly requested two double beds.

But now, he seemed hell-bent on releasing that pent-up wrath, and there was nothing she could do to escape the storm except ride it out.

“I asked you to wait in the car,” Josh went on furiously, pacing agitatedly on the strip of worn, olivegreen carpeting between the foot of the beds and the scarred dresser against the nearest wall. “Why couldn’t you obey that simple request?”

Paige bristled at his demand, and knew she had two options at this point-let the hysteria she’d so far managed to keep at bay overcome her and fall apart, or fight back. Because she knew the former would do her absolutely no good, she reached deep for resources she was just beginning to tap into-strength, resistance and fortitude-and leveled all three at Josh.

Her chin rose up a few notches. “I went into the house because it seemed like you were taking forever, and I was worried about you.” At the time, she’d been scared of being alone and that something awful would happen to Josh. She didn’t claim her actions had been smart, but they’d been instinctive, driven by helpless fears and vulnerable emotions.

“Worried about me?” His voice hit an incredulous pitch, and he abruptly stopped his edgy, back-andforth stride. “For crying out loud, Paige, I’m the one with the weapon and training, not you! What would you have done if one of Carranza’s men had attacked you while you were in the house?”

She’d thought of that-when Josh had slipped soundlessly into the living room and trained his gun at her, prepared to shoot what he’d believed was an intruder. In that moment, staring down the barrel of his pistol, her heart had stopped, and she’d experienced a sickening sense of déjà vu.

Swallowing the acrid taste in her mouth, along with the equally bitter memories threatening to engulf her, she offered him the only answer-as insubstantial as it was-that came to mind. “Liz taught me some self-defense maneuvers.”

His bark of laughter was harsh and insensitive. “Trust me, sweetheart, no self-defense tactic would have stood a chance against one of Carranza’s men. You might have been able to disable him for a few seconds to gain some time, but you wouldn’t have gotten very far before he caught up to you.” A ruthless glint entered his eyes. “And you don’t even want to think about what he’d do to you when he found you again. He’d be merciless.”

Josh’s brutal words, combined with his callous tone and flinty expression, sent an ominous chill slithering down her spine. He was trying to scare her into submission, she knew, but everything he’d just told her had already invaded her thoughts at one time or another the past few weeks. “There’s nothing to stop his men from attacking me anytime, anywhere.”

“Trust me, I’d stop them.” Planting his hands on his hips, he fixed his golden-brown gaze on her. “But you make it extremely difficult for me to keep you safe when you blatantly ignore my orders. I give them to you for a specific reason, Paige, not to be controlling or manipulative.”

She didn’t miss the insinuation in his carefully chosen words. He’d all but tacked like Anthony on to the end of his sentence.

“Like tonight,” he continued, slicing a hand through the air to emphasize his point. “I asked you to wait in the car, a simple request so I’d know where you were and so you’d have half a chance of getting out alive if something went wrong. And what do you do? You leave the safety of the car, come into the house, and nearly get yourself killed!” His temper built to a new crescendo, and he impaled her with his sharp gaze. “How can I do my job and protect you when you won’t let me?”

Paige valiantly tried to keep a tether on her temper, tried desperately to remain calm and rational, but felt the restraint on her emotions slipping. The tension that had been building all day-knotting her nerves, twisting her insides, playing havoc with her sanity-finally reached a pinnacle. The intense pressure within her demanded freedom, and she embraced the flood of adrenaline that finally gave her the impetus to release the stress.

“This is my life that has been turned upside down and inside out. How do you think that makes me feel?” He looked caught off balance by her unexpected barrage, and she didn’t wait for him to regain his equilibrium. “I haven’t had a moment’s privacy in weeks, or a decent night’s rest since this all began. I’ve come face-to-face with my husband’s lover and his killer, who wants a necklace from me that I’d gladly give to him if I could, just to put an end to this nightmare. My house has been ransacked for something I don’t even have, what little I cherish has been destroyed, and I feel violated by the intrusion into my home, my life.”

While the strain, grief and distress of the past few weeks poured out of her, she advanced on him, until, they stood less than two feet apart. Her heart thumped madly, and her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. “And, to top off everything, for the second time in my life, I’ve had the threat of a gun aimed at me, and I resent every bit of it!”

The anger hardening his features faded, and his expression went carefully blank. “What did you just say?” he asked in a low tone of voice.

Had he ignored her entire tirade? Impatience surged through her, and she jabbed a pointed finger in his firmly muscled chest, enunciating her words so there was no way he could misunderstand her. “I said, I resent every bit of it!”

He shook his head, his brows slanting into a frown. “I heard that part, loud and clear.” The only illumination in the room came from the lamp on the nightstand between the beds. The dim light cast shadows over his face, making him appear dark and dangerous. “I’m talking about the part about the gun.”

She was suddenly too close, she thought. Especially since she could feel the heat vibrating off his body. Could hear the slow, deep breaths he took. Could see the sharp, assessing look in his eyes as they stared into hers, searching for a response.

Realizing she’d admitted more than she’d meant to, and he meant to pursue an issue she had no desire to discuss, she attempted to move away from him, to the small table with two chairs located in the corner of the room.

He grabbed her upper arm before she could execute that plan. The authority in his grip was unrelenting, but not bruising. “Dammit, Paige,” he growled angrily. “You brought it up, so I expect an answer!”

She tugged gently on her arm, and he let it go, though she knew there was no way he’d let her avoid the discussion. Wearily, she sat down on the edge of the bed.

Releasing a shuddering breath, she prepared herself to relive the final hours she’d shared with Anthony. “The last night Anthony spent at home he was on edge. The entire night he roamed restlessly through the house, double-checking the locks on the doors and windows, and making sure the alarm was on.” She glanced up at Josh, her lips twisting into a mocking smile. “At least now I understand why he was acting so strange.”

Josh rested his backside against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”

“When I found him in the morning he was sleeping upright on the couch, with his gun in his lap. When I tried to wake him, he jumped up and leveled the gun at my chest. His eyes were crazed, and I just stood there, waiting for him to pull the trigger.” She’d thought the memory would hurt, cause her emotional pain, but she only felt empty inside. “And in that moment I realized that my husband was a complete stranger. I didn’t know him at all.”

Josh said nothing, but then words were unnecessary when his appalled expression clearly communicated his feelings.

She touched her tongue to her dry lips and continued. “Never once did he apologize for nearly killing me, his wife, but instead screamed at me to never sneak up on him again. That’s when I knew it was over between us. Completely over.”

“And that’s when you finally decided to file for divorce,” he guessed.

“Yeah.” Feeling that awful tension building within her again, brewed out of bitterness, she stood and moved around the small, stuffy room. “I’d first asked him for a divorce about six months before this incident, nd he said no,” she told him, revealing more personal sues Josh had no knowledge of.

“I can’t imagine Anthony’s refusal would stop you rom doing anything you wanted to after the first year f marriage you experienced,” Josh said, a wry note to is voice. “What made you stay?”

She was still wearing the sage suit she’d worn to work that day, and the lined jacket was beginning to feel hot and suffocating. Since there was little chance of nem leaving for the night, she shrugged out of the ticket, revealing a cream silk camisole. “I thought maybe if he knew I had no qualms about leaving him, nings would change between us,” she admitted, ealdng now just how naive she’d been about the possibility of Anthony taking an active role in their marriage. The man had been too selfish to offer what she’d ultimately needed from him. Love, and maybe a little of his me and attention. And she’d wanted things he’d had to intention of giving her, like children, and being a family. “If anything, our marriage got worse. Shortly after that confrontation, I found evidence of an affair, which of course he denied.” Folding the coat, she laid it eatly over one of the chairs. “The stress and tension between us accumulated until I just couldn’t take it anymore. The incident with the gun was the final traw.”

He swore and scrubbed a hand along his jaw.

She shrugged, having had many months to get accus- omed to the truth. One of the biggest clues of his infielity had been that he hadn’t made love to her, or even touched her, in so much longer than was normal for a tarried couple.

Slipping her shoes off her aching feet, she left then by the side of the bed farthest from the door. “I through that last morning together would be the end of all th heartache and misery, but it seems it was just the begin- ning.”

“Ah, Paige…” He pushed off the dresser and started toward her, compassion glimmering in his gaze.

“Don’t.” She held up a hand to ward him off, no wanting his tenderness, pity or the apology she knew was hovering on his lips. And there was also the problem of her being trapped in between two beds and hi solid body.

He stopped, confusion transforming his features “Don’t what?”