Strategically Wed Page 15

  Maggie plucked the dog from the bed. “I’ll take Lucky into the other room before he considers the furniture in here a chew toy, too.”

  Griff heard rather than saw the door shut behind her as she left the room.

  Damn!

  It wasn’t just sex. She knew it. He knew it.

  The strong emotions swirling through him had nothing to do with their physical joining.

  Maggie had pushed him away. Why did that hurt?

  You pushed her away, too. Neither of them wanted forever.

  He’d set a course for his future that was formulated on being unattached with a whole heart. He didn’t want any long-term emotional entanglements that would ultimately lead to heartache.

  Why was he suddenly less concerned about the risks of making a commitment than he was worried about a future without Maggie?

  They’d made love. Exquisite love.

  He still wanted her.

  For how long? Until she left for good?

  She’d been right to walk away now.

  Now he had to find a way to live with that.

  Chapter 13

  Griff couldn’t help but wish for a little thunder later that night so Maggie would need his comforting arms around her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

  The sofa bed had become distinctly uncomfortable.

  And lonely.

  Maggie had become an addiction.

  When sleep didn’t arrive by two o’clock, he took matters into his own hands. He walked quietly into the bedroom and lay across the top of the bed next to her.

  Maggie tensed slightly as his arms came around her and pulled her against his body. “Relax,” he murmured into her ear. “Nothing is going to happen. We’re just going to sleep.”

  “Don’t you want to get under the covers?” she murmured sleepily.

  “No.”

  After a moment he heard her even breathing.

  Getting inside the bedding and feeling her skin against his would undermine what little control he had left.

  For now, he’d take comfort in holding her.

  Griff didn’t wake up the next morning until Maggie left the bedroom. A few minutes later he heard her giving a lecture to Lucky.

  “No chewing on the furniture.” She waved a stern finger at the guilty-looking puppy, not raising a hand but making her displeasure known in a firm caring voice.

  Through the open doorway, Griff saw Lucky slink back into the bedroom with a crestfallen expression. Griff understood the feeling well.

  Lucky came alongside the bed.

  “Got yourself into a spot of trouble, did you, fella?” Griff reached over and drew the dog up next to him. Lucky wagged his tail and huddled close as his mistress’s footsteps came closer.

  “Come back here,” Maggie called softly, peering into the room. She walked through the doorway and came to an abrupt stop when she realized Griff was awake. “Drat. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Griff propped his hands behind his head. “What time is it?”

  “Nine o’clock.” Then she scowled at Lucky. “We’re going to have to watch him. He’s developed a taste for hardwood furniture.”

  “He’s a puppy. Puppies like to chew.”

  “I’m sure that will appease Wylie when he discovers doggy bites at every corner of his sofa.”

  Griff couldn’t hide his flinch as he swung his feet to the floor.

  “Is your leg still bothering you?” she said. “You should have left the cast on.”

  “It’ll heal faster if it has room to breathe.”

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “It’s my leg.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe you should stay in bed.”

  “Do you want to join me?”

  She turned away from his probing gaze. “I’m going to take Lucky outside.”

  Before he could argue, she opened the door and Lucky dashed outside.

  Griff leaned back against the bed and brushed his fingers through his hair.

  It was no wonder she’d fled. He was stoking the simmering fires that threatened to burn out of control whenever they were together.

  He lowered his arms and inhaled the scent of Maggie on the pillow. If only he could have Maggie there, too.

  When he woke an hour later, he showered and was fixing himself a bowl of cereal when a disheveled Maggie stepped into the cabin with a very dirty dog.

  “Which one of you won the war?” Griff asked, fighting back a grin at the sight of them.

  “Lucky thought he’d take a swim in the puddle by the shed. He had such a good time, he decided to share it with me.” She caught sight of herself in the mirror by the coat hooks and groaned. “Guess I won’t have to worry about my wardrobe for the local beauty pageant.”

  Griff thought she looked better than any of the model-thin contestants. Maggie was all woman, with curves that fit perfectly against his body.

  Don’t go there, Murdock. Or you’ll both end up back in bed.

  He eyed the dog, who was sniffing the floor near the kitchen counter. The puppy didn’t seem the least bit repentant. He wagged his tail, oblivious to the brown muck drenching his fur. “He seems to have had a good time.”

  “Do you want to clean him up?” she asked darkly.

  Griff was starting to feel a lot better than he had a short time ago. Bantering with Maggie restored his spirits, even if it didn’t answer any life-changing questions. “The doctor said I should keep off this leg whenever possible.”

  “Ah. So now you’re the victim.” Maggie turned her back on him and refocused on Lucky. “Come on, you need a bath.”

  Griff finished his breakfast while Maggie turned on the bathroom faucet.

  A few minutes later he heard the click of nails against the wood floor as Lucky came tearing around the corner.

  “Lucky, get back here,” Maggie ordered.

  She came out of the bathroom and found the dog cowering behind Griff.

  “Need some help?”

  “I thought you were playing the victim.”

  “I took my vitamins.”

  Maggie felt rumpled and out-of-sorts next to the man whom she couldn’t erase from her senses no matter what she did.

  Why had he come into bed with her last night?

  Why had she let him?

  He fueled a need inside her that she hadn’t sought. Now she wasn’t sure how she was going to live the rest of her life without him.

  She tried to keep her feelings from showing on her face. “The bath is ready, but he seems to have an aversion to clean water.”

  The small dog proved to be a handful, and it took both of them to maneuver him into the tub. Even then, he did everything in his power to squirm from the white porcelain cell and escape the soapy torment.

  Griff sat on the edge of the stool while Maggie squatted along the side. In the tiny confines of the bathroom, there was no way to avoid touching each other.

  She poured soap into her hands while Griff constrained the dog.

  The puppy’s sad eyes tugged at her heartstrings. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re going to feel much better when you’re all nice and clean,” she crooned, lathering the wet fur.

  Lucky whined.

  “You’ll be the best-looking dog in this neck of the woods.”

  “You sound like a proud mother,” Griff drawled. “Better watch out or you’ll end up with a dog on your hands.”

  Her fingers accidentally brushed against his as she massaged the suds. She tried not to show any reaction, even though she was acutely aware of how close he was. “He should have a place where he can run, dig and play.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  Lucky had quit struggling and was looking at her with his big wistful eyes. She dabbed the foam from his nose. “Then I’ll keep looking until he has the perfect home.”

  “You could take him to the pound.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  Her green eyes flashed with defiance as her chin ro
se. Griff had to force himself not to pull her into his arms and take her right here in the bathroom.

  Why this woman?

  Maggie was exactly the kind of complication he didn’t need. He’d vowed never to risk that kind of rejection again. Hadn’t he learned anything?

  Yet each time Maggie’s hands touched his, he had trouble remembering anything other than the look and feel of Maggie. His intense hunger for her was growing. He’d thought that making love to her would satiate the lust.

  The very opposite had happened.

  He wanted her more.

  Last night the fantasies he’d woven in his youth had returned in electrifying color. Only this time he could see the face of the woman he’d wanted to build a life with. The face belonged to Maggie.

  “Griff?” Her voice jarred him. “Are you okay?”

  He realized she’d rinsed all the foam from the dog, who was starting to shiver. “We need to dry him off.”

  Griff helped her lift the dog. Then he stood up and stepped aside so she had room to gently towel dry the dog.

  Her damp T-shirt molded her nipples.

  With sheer force, he dragged his gaze away, noticing how Lucky, who was now free of the dreaded tub, had nestled against her with trust and adoration.

  A lump formed in his throat. “You’re going to be a great mother someday.”

  She stopped rubbing. “I don’t know anything about being a mother.”

  “Yes, you do. It’s not about knowledge. It’s a matter of instinct.”

  “And what would I do about a father for my child?” She slowly lowered the towel and turned toward him. “A child needs a father. And I’m not sure I could trust another man to embrace that kind of responsibility.”

  “Not all men are like your father.”

  “Too many are. You know what they say—you pick what you know. I seem to hit the bull’s-eye every time.”

  “You don’t want to be a mother?”

  “I refuse to selfishly deny a child a father.” Releasing the dog, she stood up, her posture tall and defiant. “What about you? You were married once.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “You loved her, didn’t you?”

  “I’m not sure I knew what love was. I wanted to create a family album, so I found a woman who fit the picture in my head. When she figured it out, she walked out the door.”

  “Did she walk or did you push her?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Maybe you were so sure she’d leave, you made it impossible for her to stay.”

  “That sounds like a woman’s excuse.”

  A long, measured silence was Maggie’s answer.

  “I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot,” Griff said. In truth, Griff didn’t want to believe her accusation. Had he ever really trusted Sonja? He’d rushed Sonja down the aisle before she had a chance to know him. Had that been so she wouldn’t have time to think, to recognize the personal fears he’d been hiding?

  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” Maggie said, not able to hide her regret.

  “That should make us safe to each other.”

  She hugged her arms across her body as if trying to still a shiver. “I don’t feel safe.”

  Griff watched her as she tore her gaze from his and walked out of the room. With a little difficulty, he rose to his feet and followed her to the kitchen.

  Maggie stood in front of the refrigerator, surveying the contents before putting a dish of leftovers on the floor for the hungry dog.

  She was right. They weren’t safe. Despite all arguments to the contrary, he yearned for the unattainable. He wanted Maggie, pure and simple. The infamous control that he’d mastered over the years bordered on the brink of disaster. But he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t push her away, too.

  “Is there an extra fishing pole in that shed?” he asked.

  Relief loosened the stiffness of her posture. “There’s one for each hand, if you’d like.”

  “One is about all I can handle.”

  He couldn’t help but notice the striking metaphor could equally apply to his relationship to Maggie. She was the only woman any man could want or need.

  Someday, there would be a man smart enough to recognize the riches Maggie had to offer and win the trust she was reluctant to give.

  Maggie bent down to remove the dish from the floor. Her shirt shifted, revealing the ripe curve of her firm buttocks. She straightened and walked toward the door. Turning the knob, she looked back at him. “Coming?” she asked.

  “Go on ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Griff saw the questioning tilt to her head. But she didn’t query him about his sudden reticence. He had to quench the storm brewing inside him.

  Anger at the notion that another man could eventually win Maggie warred with the intense desire to make love to her until she agreed never to look at another man.

  He had to get himself under control. But he wasn’t sure that was possible anymore. Now that he’d made love to Maggie, he couldn’t stand the idea of her with anyone else, and it was driving him crazy.

  Chapter 14

  Griff finally joined her at the dock twenty minutes later.

  Maggie was relieved that he seemed determined to keep their conversation light as they took advantage of the good weather.

  The gun holstered at Griff’s side was the only hint of the true reason they were at the lake. He’d started carrying it with him, even when they walked down to the dock.

  They didn’t discuss the case or engage in a discussion about what lie between them. Maggie resolutely forced her convoluted feelings for Griff to the back of her mind.

  While Griff cast his fishing line with his left arm, still needing to favor his right one, Maggie regaled him with some of Wylie’s outrageous stories about the “big ones” that got away as they hooked smallmouth bass and threw them back in.

  Against the lazy backdrop surrounding the picturesque lake, they covered every topic of conversation from the future of public education to her proposed business plans for the Victorian doll shop.

  This must be what it’s like to be a real married couple, Maggie thought. They were able to separate themselves from the simmering sexual tension and talk like normal people. There was an absurd yet comforting peacefulness to the scene.

  For once, she chose to indulge in the fantasy that this was a real marriage. Make-believe was far safer than reality. If only she could forget about the passion they shared, or banish the realization that all of this would soon come to an end.

  The sun was beginning to slide behind the trees when Griff reeled in his line and set down his fishing pole before he slapped a bug on his forearm. “The mosquitoes are starting to come out of hiding. You ready to go inside?”

  Lucky, who had been dozing with one eye open under a tree, perked up and began to wag his tail.

  The thought of returning to the cloistered confines of the cabin produced a hollow pit inside Maggie’s stomach. She didn’t look forward to the evening ahead. “We should contact Wylie and tell him we’re not going to stay here much longer.”

  A tight line formed across Griff’s mouth. “Running already?”

  Irritation flashed through Maggie. “Stop trying to equate me with your wife or mother. I’m not running away.”

  His eyebrow hitched to a derisive angle before he turned away.

  She watched him gather their fishing equipment and start toward the shed. Did he really believe she was looking for an excuse to leave him?

  If only it were true.

  In actuality, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could live in the same house with him without falling head over heels in love with him. Self-preservation was her last line of defense.

  Lucky followed close as Maggie hiked the narrow, tree-lined path back to the cabin. But as they entered the clearing surrounding the house, she stopped short at the sight of a thin manila envelope propped against the door.

  She gazed around the small clearing
. Everything appeared quiet and peaceful. She cautiously mounted the steps as Griff emerged from the woods behind her.

  “Where did that come from?” he asked.

  Without touching it, she said, “I suspect the local mail carrier delivered it.”

  Griff picked it up. “It’s addressed to both of us at this location.”

  He slit open the side. A single piece of paper fell into his hand.

  Peekaboo, I found you!

  “Is there anything else inside?” Maggie asked.

  “No.”

  “We need to contact Wylie,”

  “Do you have your car keys?”

  “They’re in the cabin.”

  Griff reached into his shirt and drew out his gun. The relaxed man had been replaced by the professional cop. “We’ll check out the cabin, grab your keys and my phone before we head into town.”

  He opened the door. “Hold on to the dog,” he said tersely.

  Lucky seemed to understand their caution and stayed close to Maggie’s side. It didn’t take long to determine they were still alone, and whoever delivered the letter hadn’t been inside the cabin.

  Maggie retrieved her keys as Griff collected his cell phone. They stowed Lucky in the back seat of the station wagon after locking the cabin door.

  “Do you think it’s Conrad?” she asked.

  “Only if he’s more of a fool than I think he is. He has to know that we’ve notified the PD about his visit.”

  The cutting remoteness in Griff’s response caused Maggie to give him a sideways glance. The approachable man who’d enjoyed a day of fishing had disappeared. His face had donned an all-too-familiar chiseled professionalism.

  Probing his thoughts would yield little. She’d spent years trying to get her father to open up to her. Even after she joined the department, he’d resisted her overtures.

  How foolish of her to forget what Griff was and always would be. A cop.

  The gun attached to his side had more heart.

  Clutching the steering wheel, she hoped he wouldn’t realize how battered her emotions were.

  Sometime over the past few weeks, she’d lowered her precious guard.

  “Turn down this road,” Griff directed abruptly.