Her L.A. Knight Read online

  Eager didn’t begin to describe her pleasing response. Her arms moved in a whirlwind through his hair, across his neck, over his back, and along his hips when they kissed, as though she couldn’t get enough of him. Her signal was loud and clear and it nearly drove him wild.

  He ran his hands along her sides, searching for bare flesh. Her tight, sexy top co-operated and rose above her waist. The feel of hot, smooth skin sent him reeling. On a crazed whim of desire, he took off her top, leaving only her bra in place. She didn’t seem to mind either.

  Fully erect and pressing against her hips, he almost lost control and tried to back off, but she wouldn’t let him. Her hands skittered across his shaft then cupped his hips and held him close.

  He gazed down at the ample cleavage pressed against his shirt. All he could think of was how to rip off her clothes in a public parking lot without anyone else noticing.

  Their messy, ravenous kisses could barely be controlled. She gasped for air. He dove into her neck and she moaned; her chest lifted and pushed against his. Beneath the lace bra her soft breasts felt like heaven and he needed more of her, right there and then.

  He unclasped her waistband and plunged his hand inside, sliding into her barely-there underwear. She gasped and he kissed her quiet. He made a delicate search and found her slick and wet, then massaged her until she nearly swooned, completely under his spell.

  Stretching the moment, he kissed her gently and lovingly, using his tongue to taunt and torture her earlobes and the supple flesh of her neck. She kissed him back with warm, pliant lips and quiet whimpers.

  Rick couldn’t keep his new-found secret another second. He pressed his forehead to hers and forced her to look at him. “China, I want you to know something,” he said. “I’ve got to make you understand how much I’m in love with you.”

  Her eyes brightened with surprise, but she couldn’t seem to speak. He knew he was completely in control, and to prove his love he planned to satisfy her and deny himself.

  Never releasing the pressure below, he stared into her heavy-lidded gaze. He knew to respect the gift of her surrender. The frantic, heady moment in the parking lot could have seemed surreal, but it was special. And he wasn’t having an incredibly hot and sexy moment in a parking lot with just any woman—it was with China, the woman he loved.

  He kissed her again, she moaned and tensed, then groaned, opening her mouth for him to kiss and delve deeper. Following her lead, he buried his tongue inside, and she went frantic with the double excitement.

  He brought her to her peak then backed off, calming her down with hot kisses, just so he could do it again. Over and over he carried her to the edge but slowed down to suspend the sublime pleasure until she practically begged him. Her leg wrapped around his hips, smashing him against his own hand. One final touch sent her whirling through the night.

  She gasped. He covered her mouth so no one could hear her ecstatic outburst while she writhed beside him for several long moments.

  He felt her rhythmic spasms of pleasure under his fingers and smiled, so pleased to give her what she’d long deserved, release from all her cares, if only for a moment.

  When she’d calmed down, he removed his hand from inside her pants, and ran it across her waist up and under her bra to her breast, pleased to feel the tightly peaked skin. He smiled at her with a twinge of regret that their tryst was over and zipped up her pants. He searched for her blouse on the roof of the car and offered it to her.

  She snapped it up, and looked into his eyes with heat and desire written in her stare. Before she put on the top, she planted a hot, wet kiss on his lips, and when she’d finished, in a commanding tone said, “My place. Your turn. Now.”

  After the greatest invitation in his lifetime, he couldn’t open the car door quickly enough.

  They barely made it inside her house before Rick’s shirt and her bra were off. His large hands felt wonderful against her breasts. China arched into his grasp and he moaned with pleasure before taking her taut breast into his mouth.

  She copied his moan in sheer pleasure. She explored the brick-hard muscles of his chest, lightly covered with curly brown hair, and marveled at his strength.

  She walked backwards toward her bedroom, and Rick, following close behind, never lost touch with her skin. She skillfully and intentionally bypassed the light switch and guided him directly to her bed. He already knew how to undo her leather pants, and was immediately on task while she fell onto the bed. He grinned in the dark when he realized he had to remove her shoes before the pants could come off. Taking time to admire, caress, and kiss each foot, he drove her to distraction.

  Were any places on her body not erogenous zones tonight?

  “Come,” she said, beckoning with her finger. “Come to me.”

  Rick danced on one foot and then the other while he removed his boots, staring down at her all the while, driving her insane with anticipation. He dove into his pocket for a small foil package. “I was hoping you might see things my way.” He displayed the condom with a grin, as if a treasure, and stripped off his jeans. He covered her in naked perfection, his hands exploring every part of her before she had a chance to push the pillows out of the way.

  Hard and long he pressed into her thigh and, still throbbing from earlier, she readily opened for him.

  He slid on the condom and then into her in one heavenly move. It had been a long time since she’d made love. He noticed and took great care to be gentle. The considerate gesture touched her soul. Turned on and longing to feel him deep inside, she adjusted to his size quickly. Every cell in her body prickled with excitement at his touch.

  “You’re perfect,” he whispered.

  They moved together in a dazed lovers’ rhythm, kissing and groping, pressing and pushing, until they found the perfect tempo and spot. Chills shot through her body at lightning speed. Quaking with sublime sensitivity, every fiber tensed and ached for satisfaction.

  His muscles stiffened like boards, and for one second he went perfectly still. He groaned and started up again, deeper and harder. She loved his extra-firm thrusts just before he came, and she quickly followed with a roller-coaster ride of gasps, thrills, spasms, and heavenly release.

  Several moments later, they collapsed together in a puddle of satisfied flesh, feeling more like gelatin than flesh and bone.

  “Hmm,” he growled. “The earth definitely moved.” He kissed her neck and flopped back onto the pillow.

  She giggled at his corny joke, and marveled at the new feeling of carelessness. It felt wonderful to be back among the living and vibrant again.

  A few moments later, after fondling and cooing and showering compliments on each other, Rick jumped off the bed.

  “I’ll be right back, honey. Don’t even think about going anywhere,” he said, and left the room.

  China lay suspended in heaven, floating on a cloud, and must have drifted off to another place.

  Had this really happened? Had she just made love with Rick Morell?

  A bright flash forced her eyes open. She sat bolt upright. Rick had turned on the lights.

  “Turn off the lights.”

  She scrambled for the sheets to cover her scarred and mangled legs, but it was too late. She saw the look on his face and it was horror-struck.

  She withdrew, recognizing the expression. She repulsed him, just like she’d repulsed her ex-fiancé. The realization stabbed at her heart.

  He stepped forward with a curious glance, like an eyewitness at an accident on the side of the road. “Let me see, China. What are you hiding?”

  “No.” She tightened the sheets around her.

  “I felt your scars when we made love. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  “At the time, I wasn’t thinking at all.”

  “Come on, let me see,” he said. “What horrible thing happened to you?”

  Against her better judgement, she moved the sheet to expose herself.

  Two years and five operations’ worth of scars stretch
ed across her thighs, knees and calves. Deep gashes of flesh, never to be restored, marred her legs. Metal rods, plates, pins and screws had replaced shattered bones and joints. Two years of rehab had helped her strengthen what muscle she had left, and had taught her how to walk almost like a normal person again. Every nightmare of the memory was on display for Rick to examine. There was nothing more to hide.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and lightly traced one jagged, white gouging scar up to her thigh. A gentle yet intense look told her he was deeply moved by the extent of her injuries. His dark brown eyes studied her differently now, no longer like a woman he’d just made love to. Under his gaze, she felt more like a specimen.

  “Oh, honey,” he said, with a crack in his voice.

  A moment ago she had been the goddess of his sexual desire, now she evoked only sympathy. No. She wouldn’t stand for it. She couldn’t bear it.

  “I don’t need your pity.” Her voice quivered.

  He shook his head. “I’m not offering it. It doesn’t matter to me how your legs look. I don’t care.”

  “Oh, yes, you do care. Remember how quick you were to write off Brianna Cummings? Oh, and don’t forget the football player?” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that, you closed the door on their careers and didn’t even look back.”

  “What happens in the ER stays in the ER. That’s a different world, and you know it. It’s part of the survival techniques we all use to get by. Otherwise we’d all go crazy. Cut me some slack here, China. I’m just trying to comprehend the burden you’ve been carrying around.”

  “You can’t tell me my scars don’t turn you off. You said it yourself, ‘Life’s all about appearances.’ I just heard you say, ‘What horrible thing happened to you?’ I’m damaged goods and you can’t accept anything but perfection.”

  Her insult hit home. He rose from the bed with a shuttered glare. “Actually,” he said laconically, “it’s my father who can’t accept anything but perfection. As far as I can tell, the only person around here who can’t accept your scars is you.”

  She pulled the covers closer to her chin.

  “Didn’t you hear me when I said I love you?” Anger colored the words that had sent her reeling earlier. “Because that hasn’t changed.”

  She shook her head, not believing a word he said.

  “Don’t you think I noticed that you limp sometimes at work? That you always wear slacks or long skirts? I may be a guy, but I could tell you always pushed people away, and I couldn’t understand why. OK, so your legs are messed up. So what? You’re beautiful to me.”

  He sat on the bed beside her. She turned away.

  “So what?” He had no idea what dealing with her legs was like. The shame. The pain. The guilt. “You don’t understand.”

  He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “Look, I can’t know the pain you’ve been through, but you can walk now, and you don’t seem to be in pain every second. Hell, you gave no sign of pain when we made love. Maybe it’s time to accept what’s happened to you, quit hiding, and move on.”

  Humility and anger had taken hold. The nerve of him to lecture her. How could he pretend to still love her after seeing her legs? It was too late. She’d seen his face. He’d be no different than her ex-fiancé, and some time in the future, when it was OK to drop her, he would, without looking like a bad guy.

  “Acceptance?” He was telling her to move on? She knew the drill—been there, done that. She’d learned her lesson and would protect herself at all costs. A whirlwind of confusion swept across her mind and she struck out.

  “You want to talk about acceptance?” she said. “You can’t act all high and mighty. Until you learn to stand up to that ogre of a father, you’ll never be able to accept or respect yourself. And until then you’ll never be a real man.”

  She’d hit below the belt, but she didn’t care. He deserved her wrath, just for feeling sorry for her. She’d seen his face. How could she ever look at him again knowing he felt pity for her?

  It didn’t matter that he might have felt the same way when she’d rushed to his aid against his father. His scars were emotional; hers were real. He could change his circumstances.

  “This isn’t going to work out.”

  “China, listen to me. I don’t care about your scars.”

  “This was a mistake. I should never have let this happen.” Sign or no sign. “You need to leave.”

  Cold silence filled the room. Rick put his pants on and grabbed his shirt, preparing to leave. “You’re not the only person in the world with hidden scars. And until you can accept yourself, you’ll never be able to trust anyone, and you’ll always be alone.”

  If she could have disappeared, she would have, but at that moment horrible flashes of another time and place flickered through her mind.

  “You can’t spend your whole life hiding from people and feelings,” he said, but his voice sounded strangely distant.

  She curled into a fetal ball and prayed the recurring flashback nightmare would go away.

  “China. What’s wrong?”

  China giggled and danced behind the steering-wheel. How could anyone sit still when Smash Mouth sang “Walking on the Sun”? Amy sat shotgun, clapping her hands to the beat. This was the carefree life of a teenager, and it rocked. China glanced over with a huge grin, cutting a dance move in the air and snapping her fingers. “Look, Ma, no hands.”

  Amy wasn’t smiling. Instead, terror flashed in her eyes as she looked ahead. China glanced back to the road in time to see an SUV barreling toward her. In an instant she’d crossed the dividing line on the two-way coastal road.

  A horn honked loud and long, like a train going through a tunnel. She tried to swerve back to her lane, but her hands froze in place. She couldn’t move or make a sound.

  Her vision shut down.

  A cacophony of screams and horns, and a sound she’d never forget from her friend until the day she died, preceded the inevitable head-on collision of metal wrenching metal as she slid under the dashboard and finally let out a blood-curdling scream.

  China woke up to find Sierra sitting at her bedside with worry deeply written on her face.

  “Hey, kid,” she said. “It’s been a long time since you’ve had one of your spells. How are you feeling?”

  As China’s eyes adjusted, she noticed her mother in the background. She quickly checked under the sheets to see if she was dressed. Someone had put her in pajamas and straightened the covers.

  “Hi, baby.” Her mother approached and sat on the other side of the bed, making it lopsided with her full-figured weight. “Are you better now? I’m going to stay the night with you in case you have your night terrors again.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Rick called,” Sierra said. “He was worried about you. He said you were sick and he didn’t want to leave you alone. He said he’d wait until I got here.”

  He couldn’t have stuck around?

  The bedside clock read 2 a.m. Her heart sank to her stomach where a queasy feeling took hold. He’d left her, just as she’d predicted. Maybe she would get sick again.

  “Oh, right.” She settled back on the bed, hiding her disappointment. She fluffed her pillow, but wanted to beat the living daylights out of it. “I guess when the going gets tough, Rick Morell gets going.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE next day, Rick showed up to work clenching his jaw in full military don’t-ask-and-I-won’t-tell mode. WHAT the hell else was he supposed to do but suck it up?

  He’d thought China had been having a seizure the night before, and he’d stayed close by her side, protecting her head, trying to calm her down. She’d slipped into another level of consciousness, and it had scared him more than combat.

  The feeling of helplessness had been what he’d really been unable to handle. There hadn’t seemed to be anything he could do for her. Once she’d passed out or calmed down or whatever the hell it had been, he’d checked her pulse to make sure she was OK
. He’d washed her face and combed her hair, dressed her in her most conservative pajamas, then called Sierra.

  Big sister had seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, and had promised to be right over. He’d sat stroking China’s hair and holding her hand until she’d arrived. Never in his life had he hurt for someone else as much as he had for China. She didn’t deserve to suffer like that. If he could’ve taken away her pain, he would have. Now he kicked himself for adding to it.

  He didn’t expect to see China at work today, and he worried that she’d never let him see her again. But that was what he deserved.

  Hating to admit it, he was more like his father than he cared to be. When his mother had gotten sick, his father had withdrawn. Now he’d discovered China had a traumatic past and demons that wouldn’t let go, and what did he do? He took off. He should have stuck around with Sierra.

  Way to go. Now she probably thought he’d run out on her.

  He’d been stunned and confused by her reaction to him seeing her legs. What the hell had gone wrong? What had happened in her past to make her react like that? He’d tried calling her several times over the weekend, but she’d left her answering-machine on and never returned his calls. Would he get a second chance to make things right?

  “Code blue. Room four.” One of the evening shift nurses called from a cubicle.

  On automatic, Rick rushed for the crash cart. Business as usual. At least this was something he could handle.

  China slid the bedpan under her patient. “Lift a little higher, Mr. Fredrickson. There we go.”

  She’d asked to float anywhere in the hospital rather than work in the ER. When would she learn to be careful of what she asked for? The orthopedic ward was the last place—well, second to last place—she wanted to work. Still, it was better than facing Rick. She’d called in sick for the weekend, and Monday was her first evening back.

  She pulled the bedside curtain and removed her gloves. She used the antibacterial soap from the wall dispenser and moved to the next bed for her initial assessment.