Still the One by Debra Cowan

of Rafe’s strength wrapping around her washed away some of the bitter disappointment she’d felt over hearing a woman’s unfamiliar voice. She shouldn’t be leaning on him, breathing him in like oxygen, but how many times had she done this when they were lovers? She couldn’t even count them.
    All the times Liz had pulled a stunt and Kit had needed someone to lean on, Rafe was there. It had been so nice to be able to trust someone like that. She’d always had to be strong for her dad and Liz. Rafe had been the first and only man she’d ever allowed herself to need.
    Gunshots popped around them, recharging the acrid scent of gunpowder. Exclamations of victory and disappointment echoed in the cavernous room. Her arms tightened around him.
    “You okay?” he asked quietly.
    “I’m not going to cry.” She smiled at him. The dark heat of his eyes caught her, heightened the feel of his taut, muscular body against hers. “I know you’re right. If something had happened to her, I think I’d feel it.”
    “You would.” Rapid-fire shots stuttered nearby, and he leaned closer to be heard. “You’ve always had a good sense of these things, and more patience than Liz deserves—sorry. I’ll keep that to myself.”
    “It’s all right,” she said quietly, her body molding reflexively to his. Thigh to thigh, breast to chest. His crisp khaki slacks whispered against the light fabric of her pants. Was he as aware of that as she was?
    His hands stroked her back. “You’re strong, Kit. You always were. Taking care of Liz and yourself, your dad, too.”
    She stared at him. “You used to say that a lot.”
    He smiled, and her heart jumped straight to her throat.He brought up a hand, threaded it through her hair, then buried his fingers there. “Yeah.”
    Her nerves shimmered and she shifted, fitting her body against his even more tightly. His blue dress shirt, open at the neck, revealed the tap-tap of his pulse in the hollow of his throat. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the confirmation that she was in the here and now with him.
    A voice boomed over the loudspeaker, the words mangled.
    He dipped his head, his newly shaven cheek brushing hers. “You always had about five things more on your plate than anyone should have to handle. Sometimes including me.”
    He was apologizing? Surprise warmed her, and she murmured shyly, “I didn’t mind handling you.”
    Heat flared in his eyes, and her breath caught. His gaze fell to her lips. The surrounding voices, the gunshots, the electric whir of the rods transporting paper targets all faded to a dull vibration. She could feel his heartbeat thundering against hers. His woodsy scent invaded her lungs, making her skin tingle. Her hands slid up his back; his fingers tightened on her skull.
    Their breath mingled, starting a hum in Kit’s blood. He was going to kiss her; she wanted him to.
    “Trust me, we’re going to find her.”
    Countless times when they were lovers, he’d held her like this, comforted her, listened to her worries about Liz. Why hadn’t she realized that at the time? Back then, she’d focused on his assumption that she would marry and move away with him. Now, surrounded by his strength, familiarity washing over her, she was stunned how she’d forgotten this comfort.
    His head lowered, his lips a fraction from hers. She wanted that kiss but couldn’t quiet a sudden voice in her mind. The scenario was exactly the same as in the past. Lizin trouble; Kit going to Rafe. The realization jolted through her.
    She looked down; he immediately dropped his arms from around her. Her whole body ached with frustration over the aborted kiss, but she knew it would’ve been a mistake. Rafe knew it, too. She saw it in the clench of his jaw, the fire of irritation in his eyes.
    She had walked away from him because she couldn’t leave her family. The same reason had brought her back to him.
    He stepped away, jammed his gun into the small of his back. “I know