Justice King opened the front door and faced his past.
She stood there staring at him out of pale blue eyes he'd
tried desperately to forget. Her long, light red hair
whipped around her head in a cold, fierce wind, and her
delectable mouth curved into a cynical half smile.
"Hello, Justice," said a voice that haunted his dreams.
"Been a while."
Eight months and twenty-five days, he thought but didn't
say. His gaze moved over her in a quick but thorough
inspection. She was tall, with the same stubborn tilt to her
chin that he remembered and the same pale sprinkle of
freckles across her nose. Her full breasts rose and fell
quickly with each of her rapid breaths, and that more than
anything else told him she was nervous.
Well, then, she shouldn't have come.
His gaze locked back on hers. "What're you doing here, Maggie?"
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Nope," he said flatly. One thing he didn't need was to have
her close enough to touch again.
"Is that any way to talk to your wife?" she asked and walked
past him into the ranch house.
His wife.
Automatically, his left thumb moved to play with the gold
wedding band he'd stopped wearing the day he had allowed her
to walk away. Memories crashed into his mind, and he closed
his eyes against the onslaught.
But nothing could stop the images crowding his brain.
Maggie, naked, stretched out on his bed, welcoming him.
Maggie, shouting at him through her tears. Maggie, leaving
without a backward glance. And last, Justice saw himself,
closing the door behind her and just as firmly shuttering
away his heart.
Nothing had changed.
They were still the same people they'd been when they
married and when they split.
So he pulled himself together, and closed the front door
behind them. Then he turned to face her.
Watery winter sunlight poured from the skylight onto the
gleaming wood floors and glanced off the mirror hanging on
the closest wall. A pedestal table held an empty cobalt
vaseโthere'd been no flowers in this hall since Maggie
leftโand the silence in the house slammed down on top of
them both.
Seconds ticked past, marked only by the tapping of Maggie's
shoe against the floor. Justice waited her out, knowing that
she wouldn't be able to be quiet for long. She never had
been comfortable with silence. Maggie was the most talkative
woman he'd ever known. Damned if he hadn't missed that.
Three feet of empty space separated them and still, Justice
felt the pull of her. His body was heavy and aching and
everything in him clawed at him to reach out for her. To
ease the pain of doing without her for far too long.
Yet he called on his own reserves of strength to keep from
taking what he'd missed so badly.
"Where's Mrs. Carey?" Maggie asked suddenly, her voice
shattering the quiet.
"She's on vacation." Justice cursed inwardly, wishing to
hell his housekeeper had picked some other time to take a
cruise to Jamaica.
"Good for her," Maggie said, then tipped her head to one
side. "Glad to see me?"
Glad wasn't the word he'd use.
Stunned
would be about right. When Maggie had left, she'd sworn
that he would never see her again. And he hadn't, not
counting the nights she appeared in his dreams just to
torment him.
"What are you doing here, Maggie?"
"Well, now, that's the question, isn't it?"
She turned away and walked slowly down the hall, bypassing
the more formal living room before stepping into the great
room. Justice followed, watching as she looked around the
room as if reacquainting herself with the place.
She looked from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on two
walls to the river stone hearth, tall and wide enough for a
man to stand in it upright. The log walls, with the white
chinking between them that looked like horizontal striping.
The plush chairs and sofas she'd bought for the room,
gathered together into conversation areas, and the wide bank
of windows that displayed an unimpeded view of the ranch's
expansive front yard. Ancient trees spread shade across most
of the lawn, flowers in the neatly tended beds dipped and
swayed with the ocean wind and from a distance came the
muffled roar of the ranch tractor moving across the feed
grain fields.
"You haven't changed anything," she whispered.
"Haven't had time," he lied.
"Of course." Maggie spun around to face him and her eyes
were flashing.
Justice felt a surge of desire shoot through him with the
force of a lightning strike. Her temper had always had that
effect on him. They'd been like oil and water, sliding
against each other but never really blending into a cohesive
whole. And maybe that was part of the attraction, he mused.
Maggie wasn't the kind of woman to change for a man. She was
who she was, take her or leave her. He'd always wanted to
take her. And God help him, if she came too close to him
right now, he'd take her again.
"Look," she said, those blue eyes of hers still snapping
with sparks of irritation, "I didn't come here to fight."
"Why are you here?"
"To bring you this."
She reached into her oversize, black leather bag and pulled
out a legal-size manila envelope. Her fingers traced the
silver clasp briefly as if she were hesitating about handing
it over. Then a second later, she did.
Justice took it, glanced at it and asked, "What is it?"
"The divorce papers." She folded her arms across her chest.
"You didn't sign the copy the lawyers sent you, so I thought
I'd bring a set in person. Harder to ignore me if I'm
standing right in front of you, don't you think?"
Justice tossed the envelope onto the nearest chair, stuffed
his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and stared her
down. "I wasn't ignoring you."
"Ah," she said with a sharp nod, "so you were just what?
Playing games? Trying to make me furious?"
He couldn't help the half smile that curved his mouth. "If I
was, looks like I managed it."
"Damn right you did." She walked toward him and stopped just
out of arm's reach. As if she knew if she came any closer,
the heat between them would erupt into an inferno neither of
them would survive.
He'd always said she was smart.
"Justice, you told me months ago that our marriage was over.
So sign the damn papers already."
"What's your hurry?" The question popped out before he could
call it back. Gritting his teeth, he just went with it and
asked the question he really wanted the answer to. "Got some
other guy lined up?"
She jerked her head back as if he'd slapped her.
"This is
not about getting another man into my
life," she told him. "This is about getting a man
out
of my life. You, Justice. We're not together. We're not
going to be together. You made that plain enough."
"You leaving wasn't my idea," he countered.
"No, it was just your fault," she snapped.
"You're the one who packed, Maggie."
"You gave me no choice." Her voice broke and Justice hissed
in a breath in response.
Shaking her head, she held up one hand as if for peace and
whispered, "Let's just finish this, okay?"
"You think a signed paper will finish it?" He moved in,
dragging his hands from his pockets so that he could grab
her shoulders before she could skitter away. God, the feel
of her under his hands again fed the cold, empty places
inside him. Damn, he'd missed her.
"You finished it yourself, remember?"
"You're the one who walked out," Justice reminded her again.
"And you're the one who let me," she snapped, her gaze
locked on his as she stiffened in his grasp.
"What was I supposed to do?" he demanded. "Tie you to a chair?"
She laughed without humor. "No, you wouldn't do that, would
you, Justice? You wouldn't try to make me stay. You wouldn't
come after me."
Her words jabbed at him but he didn't say anything. Hell,
no, he hadn't chased after her. He'd had his pride, hadn't
he? What was he supposed to do, beg her to stay? She'd made
it clear that as far as she was concerned, their marriage
was over. So he should have done what exactly?
She flipped her hair back out of her face and gave him a
glare that should have set him on fire. "So here we are
again on the carousel of pain. I blame you. You blame me. I
yell, you get all stoic and stone-faced and nothing changes."
He scowled at her. "I don't get stone-faced."
"Oh, please, Justice. You're doing it right now." She choked
out a laugh and tried to squirm free of his grip. It didn't
work. She tipped her head back, and her angry eyes focused
on his and the mouth he wanted to taste more than anything
flattened into a grim slash. "Our fights were always
one-sided. I shout and you close up."
"Shouting's supposed to be a good thing?"
"At least I would have known you cared enough to fight!"
His fingers on her shoulders tightened, and he met that
furious glare with one of his own. "You knew damn well I
cared. You still left."
"Because you had to have it all your way. A marriage is
two people. Not just one really pushy person." She
sucked in a breath, fought his grip for another second or
two, then sighed. "Let me go, Justice."
"I already did," he told her. "You're the one who came back."
"I didn't come back for this." She pushed at his chest.
"Bullshit, Maggie." His voice dropped to a whisper, a rough
scrape of sound as the words clawed their way out of his
throat. "You could have sent your lawyer. Hell, you could
have mailed the papers again. But you didn't. You came here.
To
me."
"To look you in the eye and demand that you sign them."
"Really?" He dipped his head, inhaled the soft, flowery
scent of her and held it inside as long as he could. "Is
that really why you're here, Maggie? The papers?"
"Yes," she said, closing her eyes, sliding her hands up his
chest. "I want it over, Justice. If we're done, I need all
of this to be finally over."
The feel of her touching Justice sparked the banked fires
within and set them free to engulf his body. It had always
been like this between them. Chemistry, pure and simple.
Combustion. Whenever they touched, their bodies lit up like
the neon streets of Vegas.
That, at least, hadn't changed.
"We'll never be done, Maggie." His gaze moved over her. He
loved the flush in her cheeks and the way her mouth was
parted on the sigh that slipped from between her lips.
"What's between us will never be over."
"I used to believe that." Her eyes opened; she stared up at
him and shook her head. "But it has to be over, Justice. If
I stay, we'll only hurt each other again."
Undoubtedly. He couldn't give her the one thing she wanted,
so he had to let her go. For her sake. Still, she was here,
now. In his arms. And the past several months had been so
long without her.
He'd tried to bury her memory with other women, but he
hadn't been able to. Hadn't been able to want any woman as
he wanted her. Only her.
His body was hard and tight and aching so badly it was all
he could do not to groan with the pain of needing her. The
past didn't matter anymore. The future was a hazy blur. But
the present buzzed and burned with an intensity that shook
him to his bones.
"If we're really done, then all we have is now, Maggie," he
said, bending to touch the tip of his tongue to her parted
lips. She hissed in a breath of air, and he knew she felt
exactly as he did. "And if you leave now, you'll kill me."
She swayed into him even as she shook her head. Her hands
slid up over his shoulder, and she drove her fingers up,
into his always-too-long dark brown hair. The touch of her
was molten. The scent of her was dizzying. The taste of her
was all he needed.
"God, I've missed you," she admitted, her mouth moving
against his. "You bastard, you've still got my heart."
"You ripped mine out when you left, Maggie," he confessed.
His gaze locked with hers, and in those pale blue depths he
read passion and need and all the emotions that were
charging through him. "But you're back now and damned if
I'll let you leave again. Not now. Not yet."
His mouth came down hard on hers, and it was as if he was
alive again. For months, he'd been a walking dead man. A
hollowed-out excuse for a human being. Breathing. Eating.
Working. But so empty there was nothing for him but routine.
He'd lost himself in the ranch workings. Buried himself in
the minutiae of business so that he had no time to think. No
time to wonder what she was doing. Where she was.
Months of being without her fired the desire nearly choking
him, and Justice gave himself up to it. He skimmed his hands
up and down her spine, sliding them over the curve of her
bottom, cupping her, pressing her into him until she could
feel the hard proof of his need.
She groaned into his mouth and strained against him. Justice
tore his mouth from hers and lowered his head to taste the
long, elegant line of her throat. Her scent invaded him. Her
heat swamped him. And he could think only of taking what
he'd wanted for so long.
He nibbled at her soft, smooth skin, feeling her shivers of
pleasure as she cocked her head to one side, allowing him
greater access. She'd always liked it when he kissed her
neck. When his teeth scraped her skin, when his tongue drew
taut, damp circles just beneath her ear.
He slid one hand around, to the front of her. He cupped her
center with the palm of his hand. Even through the fabric of
her tailored slacks, he felt her heat, her need, pulsing at him.
"Justiceโฆ"
"Damn it, Maggie," he whispered, lifting his head to look
down at her. "If you tell me to stop, I'llโฆ"
She smiled. "You'll what?"
He sighed and let his forehead drop to hers. "I'll stop."
Maggie shifted her hold on him, moving to cup his face
between her palms. She hadn't come here for this, though if
she were to be completely honest, she'd have had to admit
that she'd hoped he would hold her again. Love her again.
She'd missed him so much that the pain of losing him was a
constant ache in her heart. Now, having his hands and mouth
on her again was like a surprise blessing from the suddenly
benevolent fates.
© 2003-2026