Free Darkness Calls by Caridad Piñeiro

as she explained what she hoped to have prepared in time for tomorrow night’s stakeout at the club. As she spoke, he sensed the strain creeping into her voice and the increasing tension of her body. At the corner, as they waited for a cab to pull down the side street, she grimaced and rubbed one temple with her fingers.
    â€œHeadache?” he asked.
    She nodded, and it seemed to him that even the slight movement pained her. Ryder reached over, cupped her head and brought his thumbs to her temples. He began a slow massage while softly asking, “Melissa gave you some medicine. Isn’t it working?” Her skin beneath his fingers was soft and inviting. Warm with the heat of life.
    Her eyes closed, she said, “Yes, and the staff physician gave me more, too. It doesn’t work really well. But this definitely does.” Her last words were nearly a groan, and he imagined her response to his touch in other places.
    He tempered his need and continued his tender caress, wincing as he noted the mottle of blue and purple along her cheekbone that, at this distance, makeup didn’t quite hide. “I’m sorry, again.”
    She opened her eyes and grinned. “Well, this makes up for it a little, although I don’t think I can carry you around and pop you out like one of the pills the doctor gave me.”
    He chuckled, dropped his hands and smiled. “You’re right, but I can guarantee that one of those pills combined with a big cup of coffee will do the trick.”
    â€œCoffee?” she questioned as they finally crossed the street and neared a coffee shop. “You mean I have a real medical excuse for my one addiction?”
    â€œIt’s a great vasodilator. It should help.” He shoved his hands in his pockets because he was too tempted to reach for her again.
    â€œAnd you know this because—”
    â€œI used to be a doctor,” he answered, and she stopped short.
    â€œI don’t recollect you mentioning that before,” she said, catching the inconsistency from his earlier statements.
    Ryder grimaced and wished he hadn’t gotten so friendly with her, so at ease. After years of being alone and keeping to himself, he hadn’t always had to be on guard and censor everything he said or did. Now he’d blown it and in a big way. “It was another life. One which I try to forget.”
    â€œWhat happened?” The question had none of the investigator behind it. Clearly, she was interested on a more personal level. The truth, if he were to tell all of it, would be impossible for her to believe. And even by telling her a part of it, it would unravel his earlier story and start that tangle he had tried to avoid.
    He now had little choice but to nurture the trust between them that had been building over the course of dinner. “I volunteered to assist in a war zone, patching up the poor boys some idiot decided were cannon fodder,” he replied harshly, and then grimaced at his own vehemence. He had thought himself over such emotions.
    Diana paused by the door of the coffee shop and glanced up at him. Her gaze was decidedly inquisitive. Amazingly, friendly, as well. “Ryder, you’ve almost, but not quite, redeemed yourself in my eyes.”
    â€œMeaning?” he pressed, wanting to prolong this moment of understanding.
    â€œYou can’t be all that bad if you prescribe coffee for my headaches and if you’re smart enough to know it’s the idiots running the show who sacrifice us poor foot soldiers,” she replied lightly.
    While he liked the mood that had developed between them, familiarity bred the unwanted desire to learn more about her. To develop a real relationship with her. Something he couldn’t risk, he reminded himself.
    â€œLet’s just fill your prescription,” he replied calmly, and opened the door of the coffee shop.

Chapter 7
    R yder unlocked the front door of the club and held it open for her.