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make a deal.”

Chapter Five
    Delaney stared at Vic, the card room sliding into dark as her vision grew blurred by whiskey and desire and pent-up anger. Her good intentions were shot to hell. She’d planned to meet Carmen, her oldest friend, to tell her everything about her past and to see if Carmen could help her figure out what was happening to her when she sleepwalked. She needed a confidant. She needed to not feel so alone. But three drinks and she couldn’t think straight. Her arm tingled where Vic had been holding it, his mere touch driving her topsy-turvy.
    She leaned against the rough brick wall of the card room. If she focused, she could keep her gaze locked on Vic’s eyes, not let it stray to the body she’d known so well once upon a time, to the arms that had held her close, to the hands that had touched her with a knowledge she’d not experienced since, to the parts of him she’d never known but had kept her up nights wanting.
    She didn’t know what to make of Vic’s question, but her mind wasn’t clear enough to unravel the meaning without asking. “What kind of deal?” She was sure her voice was slurring.
    He paced the length of the card room, coming back to face her a moment later. “I want us to sleep together.”
    “Wh-what?” Her knees gave out and she started to slide down the wall. She flung her hands back, pressing her palms against the bricks to hold her steady.
    “You’re in my head, Laney. I want us to sleep together so I can get you out of it.”
    She stared at him, speechless. Was he serious? Sleeping with Vic was so not what she needed. “That’s not going to happen,” she said, but her face heated and warmth pooled low in her stomach from the suggestion. Her whiskey-colored mind could imagine Vic’s hands on her body, could feel his lips on her skin, could summon up every last fire-laden nerve he’d ignited in her as a young woman.
    Vic held her gaze as if he had her in a trance.
    After a solid minute, she couldn’t stand the quiet. “I’m sorry about all that stuff I said at the vet’s office.”
    He let a beat of silence fill the air between them, and then said, “All of it?”
    She swallowed, trying to remember exactly what she’d said. “Some, at least.”
    “Well then, you can make it up to me,” he said, his words light but his tone laced with a hard edge.
    Afraid to look at him again, she stared straight ahead. “Oh, yeah? Is that your standard line?”
    “I don’t have a line.”
    “Right.”
    “You can believe what you want, Laney, but I’ve always been straight with you.”
    Her head clouded at the old nickname he kept using. He was the only one to call her Laney, and hearing it again opened up a fissure inside her. “So you were straight with me when you said you said you wanted to marry me but then stood me up.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “I bet you and the boys had a good laugh over that one.”
    His mouth drew into a taut line. He wasn’t laughing now, she thought.
    “Did you or did you not want a real wedding?” he asked.
    She hadn’t cared about the type of wedding they had. She’d only wanted to marry him. A headache crept up the back of her neck. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was opening herself up for ridicule by admitting anything to him. “I didn’t want any kind of a wedding,” she ground out.
    Vic watched her intently, as if he knew she was lying through her teeth. Her mouth grew dry and without thinking, she wet her lips with her tongue. His gaze seemed to follow the action. “Sure you did,” he said.
    He moved toward her like a panther, stopping in front of her. He put one hand beside her head and she swayed, her body suddenly alight with desire, every single one of her nerves betraying her. Twelve years ago he’d left her waiting for him at the Chain Tree, but he was here now, his fresh, woodsy scent winding through her and wrapping around her heart, making her forget how he’d hurt her to the core. His