Previously:

He didn't want to go, but there was something in her voice, and he was deathly afraid it was tears. "Okay," he said quietly and stroked a hand over her long wild hair. She was trembling, and his heart wrenched. "Okay," he murmured again softly. "I'll go." The truth was, he'd do whatever she needed, even if it meant ignoring their relationship.

And yeah, they had a relationship. They'd always had a relationship. He'd been waiting for her to see that as well. But he wasn't sure that would ever happen.

Chapter Four

Steph turned from Ranger and set her hot face to the wall. She felt him shift away told herself that was good.

But it wasn't.

She still wanted him. She'd never stopped wanting him.

Neither was a crime, but she had so many emotions battering her she didn't know which one to start with. Embarrassed, aroused, and extremely close to tears for reasons she didn't understand, she rubbed her wrists, giving herself a bolstering pep talk along the lines of just tell him how you feel, for once, and slowly turned back.

But he was gone. He was, after all, a man of his word.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Yikes. She needed an entire tube of no-frizz and an hour with her make-up bag.

But first things first. She stepped out of the bathroom trying to catalogue her needs. Clothes. Food. Sleep.

Ranger.

Unfortunately, in return, Ranger had never needed her. He loved her, fiercely, passionately - of that she had no doubt, but he'd never needed her. Not like she'd needed him.

In once sweeping glance she could tell she was entirely alone. The living room window was open to the ocean. The sun had gone down, leaving the sky flaming in purples and blues, and there, at the water's edge, stood the shadow of a man.

Ranger.

As she watched, he striped out of his shirt and pants in economical movements, his tanned sleek, hard flesh nothing but a blur in the night as he lifted his arms and dove into an oncoming wave. She lost sight of him after that.

It wasn't the first time. She'd lost sight of him when he'd walked his damn fine ass out of her life two months ago, which had nearly killed her.

But thoughts like that one only made her sad, and she didn't have time for sad. She needed to get back to her job, and onto the boat she was investigating.

And yet she stood staring out at the ocean, at the occasional flash of Ranger, swimming with the cool, calm efficiency he did everything else.

Turning away, she grabbed her duffel still on the couch. She'd get dressed and go.

But instead of pulling on jeans, she grabbed her bikini off the floor, the one she'd stripped out of a couple of hours ago before hopping into her fated shower. She slipped back into the wet scrap of material thinking the modesty was silly considering that Ranger had seen it all before, but she figured it might put them on more even ground.

Even ground was good, and she was a master of finding it. After growing up in Valerie's shadow, under her well-meaning but hard-to-please mother's thumb, then Dickie, then Joe, she'd gotten efficient at finding her own way.

She wanted to be appreciated for being who she was. Whoever that woman turned out to be. She'd always secretly hoped that Ranger had been the man to do it, but she'd learned things didn't always turn out how she wanted. That was life.

She stepped outside into the warm night. There were no city lights, no highway noises, nothing marring the still, humid air but the sound of the waves pounding the shore and the small sliver of the moon lighting her way. She walked the sand until the water lapped at her toes. Every few seconds or so, as the waves shifted and moved, she could see Ranger out there body surfing, working his long, lean muscles for all he was worth, swimming out some nameless demon that she had a feeling might have a name after all.

Hers.

He took a four foot swell, diving into the arc of water with skill and precision. He swam like a fish, and standing there watching him, Steph was hit with a wave of her own, filled not with water but yearning and memories that made her want to sink to her knees and pound the sand in frustration.

She'd missed him, so damn much.

The water was nearly the same temperature as the air, and as she waded out, the black swirling depths and the dark night sky above her blended into one, like a comforting blanket. When she could no longer touch the bottom, she began to swim.

He couldn't have heard her coming but he turned, treading water, waiting for her. "Thought you'd have left by now," he said.

"I wanted to talk to you first." But then she hesitated, and he took the next swell, giving her time to think. When he came close again, tossing back his wet hair, his face and shoulders gleaming in the moon's reflection, she tried a smile. "Thanks for the rescue. Thanks for all the rescues."

His expression didn't change, at least not to someone who didn't know him. But she did know him, and sensed the frown. "That sounds like a good bye."

"No, I—" She was getting tired treading water and he shifted close, gliding his arms around her to support her with his easy strength. "I just don't ever say it enough," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, grateful he was tireless. "The thank you, I mean."

"No price," he reminded her softly. "And you'd have been fine if I hadn't shown up. You'd have figured something out."

"Yeah, maybe." She managed to smile at him. "But I'm glad I didn't have to find out."

He kept them upright in the water effortlessly, saying nothing. His manner bespoke of quiet, rock-solid confidence. It always had.

She, however, had to work at feeling confident on the best of days. "I know I was unwise today," she admitted. "Letting my guard down like I did." She pressed her body to his and set her head on his solid shoulder.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Nah. Just want to make sure you aren't cold."

He snorted, still treading without effort, still supporting the both of them. "I came after you because I wanted to see you," he said.

"Yes. Because you were probably sure I was in some sort of trouble."

He tugged her hair until she met his gaze. "Because I wanted to see you. Period."

Her heart began to thump. "Oh," she breathed.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long. The job took longer than I thought. I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I left. Leaving you … it's hard." He held her gaze for a long beat, letting her see his honesty.

Hard was good, right? And so was the fact that he was communicating.

He toyed with the bathing suit string low on her hips, tangling his fingers in the ties on either side while her brain tangled with memories of what exactly those fingers could and had done to her. "I'm thinking of switching departments," she heard herself say. "To investigating worker's comp cases instead of fraud."

Once again she felt his assessing stare, though he said nothing for a long moment as he kept running his fingers in and around and under the string on her hips in a way that seriously hampered her thinking ability. "Would you be happy?"

"I'd be safer." She paused. "And yeah, that would make me happier."

He smiled. His real, just-for-her smile that she hadn't seen in too long. Her breath was sowing in and out of her lungs now, and since he was holding her, it wasn't from the effort of remaining above water.

Then she realized he'd drifted them closer to shore so that she could stand on her own. "I've been thinking of diversifying with Rangeman," he said. "An investigation department."

"You, becoming a private investigator? Isn't that a little tame for you?"

"I'd hire in. Maybe fulfill my minority quota while I was at it."

He'd hire her. Protect her in the best way he knew how, with his resources, his body guards, his own life. "I'm tired of making you bleed money for me," she said.

"I never should have said that to you, it was thoughtless. I pay to keep my men safe. I pay to keep me safe. Why would I do any less for the woman I love?"

The words were a thrill, but she already knew he loved her. That had never been in question.

"Think about it," he said.

No pressure. There was never pressure with Ranger. But she wouldn't mind a little pressure. She took a deep breath, the motion rubbing her breasts to his broad, wet chest. Because that hit her with a jolt like an electric shock, she stilled.

So did he. "We have unfinished business, babe."

She snorted. "Tell me something new, Ranger.

"Okay. It's time." And he covered her mouth with his.

She had exactly one coherent thought. Yum. Then her every brain cell checked out, replaced by pleasure cells, of which he hit them all.

It amazed her. One second they were standing there in the ocean, the water pummeling them, staring at each other with all the pent-up emotion and exhilaration that was never far from the surface with them, and the next his mouth opened on hers, making her whimper with a carnal need to powerful it shook her to the core, taking away all rhythm and reason.

Then he pulled back and stared at her, water dripping into his face, eyes dark and hot.

Her own heart was drumming so hard and heavy she could hear nothing but the blood roaring through her ears.

"I'm trying to share more with you," he said softly, "because that's what I think you want. It would be helpful if you'd tell me if I'm getting warmer or not."

"Warmer," she whispered.

His eyes were dilated black, and with a light of triumph and heat in his eyes, he came at her again, only this time she met him halfway.

To be continued…