"You heard him, Sabella," Noah drawled. "He thinks I'm harassing you and wants to toss my ass in jail for it. Do you want to give him the chance?"
"Shut up." Rick rounded on him, his expression tightening angrily. "Mister, I don't know you, all I know is you've already caused trouble with one citizen of this town. And I don't care who you are. But you won't be harassing Belle."
"He's not harassing anyone or anything but my patience," Sabella snapped. "For God's sake, Rick, use your eyes instead of your suspicions. Look at his shoulders." She gripped the doorknob and shot Noah a cold, hard look. "Arrest me for the bloody scratches there, but he hasn't done anything you need to know about."
This was between the two of them. Her and Noah. She knew that. She wouldn't make the mistake of drawing others into it. Not now.
As the door closed behind her Noah turned to the sheriff and wanted to smile mockingly. Rick Grayson was a damned good man. Former marine. He believed in the law. Believed in the county he worked to protect. But that didn't mean he wasn't on Noah's list to check out, or that he trusted the other man now. Noah had learned all about broken trust a lifetime ago.
"You have any identification?" Rick was glaring at him.
Noah lowered his hand, ignoring the careful manner in which Rick gripped the butt of his gun. He pulled his wallet free of his back pocket and opened it before extending it to the sheriff.
Rick took the identification, looked it over, and handed it back to him slowly.
"Belle's a friend, Mr. Blake." It was a warning. "We look after our friends here."
"Do you really?" Noah arched his brow mockingly. He hadn't seen much taking care where Sabella was concerned. "Well, Sheriff Grayson, that's real nice to know. I'm sure it comforts Sabella at every turn."
Rick stared back at him coolly. "Don't hurt her, or you'll deal with me," he finally stated before heading to the door. Once there, he paused and turned back to Noah, staring at him hard. "Be careful, Mr. Blake, I'm a bad enemy to make. And playing games here would definitely make an enemy of me."
Rick opened the door then and left. The door closed behind him softly, but the effects left in the wake were clashing.
Noah stared down at his hands. Scarred hands. He'd held on to Sabella as though she weren't as fragile, or delicate, as he knew she was. He had bruised her, and in their entire relationship, he had always been careful to never mark her soft flesh.
He rubbed at the back of his shoulder, then glimpsed the smear of blood on his finger. He felt the sensitivity of his lower lip, the mark she had left on his chest. She had made him wild. They had made each other wild. As though a carefully sealed lid had been released on both their lusts.
He would make certain it was released again.
Sabella slammed into the house. The heavy oak door echoed with the violence of the act and pierced her nerve endings with a shattering surge of electric tension. She could feel the electrical sensations racing over her flesh from the back of her head, sizzling through her brain and creating an overwhelming surge of panic.
Oh God. What had she done?
She dropped her purse to the floor and raced upstairs. She tore the greasy clothes from her body, dumped them in the trash can, and adjusted the shower water as hot as she could stand it before stepping beneath the spray and scrubbing at her hair, her skin.
She wanted the feel of him off her body. The smell of him out of her pores. She could still smell him. She could still feel him.
She leaned her head against the shower wall and breathed in roughly, a sob tightening at her chest. Another man had touched her. His hands had cupped her br**sts, his lips had sucked at her ni**les, and his c**k had rubbed, hard and heavy, against her clit, and she had been on the verge of begging for more.
"Nathan." She pressed her face into the shower wall and let the cry free.
Guilt seared her heart. It burned into her soul like a conflagration she couldn't quench. She ached. She ached inside for the man she had never imagined being without, and she ached on the outside for the touch she had been denied for so long.
She slid to the floor of the tub, pulling her knees to her chest, and lowered her head, the sobs tearing through her as she rocked herself.
My witch. Go síoraí. Love me, Sabella. Love me forever.
His voice drifted through her memories and the cries came harder. She loved. She loved until she couldn't understand how she drew a breath, second by second, without his presence in her life. Without his touch, his kiss.
Six years. She sobbed at the thought, her head falling back to the shower wall as the water pounded around her. Hot as her tears. But neither eased the blistering guilt burning inside her. Her husband had been dead for six years, and still the vows they had shared held her, tormented her.
The tears left her hurting more, because the tears didn't help. She could cry an ocean of them and Nathan wouldn't suddenly be there, pulling her into his arms and easing the grief that sometimes seemed to eat her alive.
And now, the guilt.
She picked up the washcloth and soap and she washed again. She scrubbed until she felt raw, and still, another man's touch was on her flesh, and still, she was swollen, aching for release.
"You left me, Nathan," she finally sobbed into the steam gathering around her. "You promised, Nathan. You promised you would never leave me."
He had sworn he would always hold her, always surround her. He wasn't holding her. For over six years he hadn't held her and still the pain could rip inside her, as though it had been yesterday. As though he had betrayed her and just not returned to her. As though he still breathed, and didn't touch her.
And the tears poured, like rain, like sorrow. Like the need for the touch, the kiss, and the release from another man.
When no more tears could be shed, when the water grew cold and she knew she had to move, Sabella dragged herself from the floor of the shower. She wrapped a towel around her and stepped onto the thick fluffy rug that covered the floor.
She moved to the mirror and looked into it. She saw then why Rick had stared so hard at her face. The reddened rasp on her skin from Noah's beard. There was the faintest hint of blue where he had bit her. The thought of that bite sent a surge of sensation pouring into her womb, into her sex. She licked her swollen lips and stared at her neck and her knees weakened. She carried his marks down her neck to her br**sts. Faintly red, little brands from his touch, his kiss, his nips.