Dateline: Kydd and Rios Read Online Free PDF Page B

back to life, but the tears didn’t stop. They ran down her face, wet trails of sadness blurring her vision and catching in pools at the corners of her mouth.
    Oh, Josh. How could you?
She shoved a tennis shoe into a corner of the suitcase.
    “Nikki?” Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. He knocked and called again. “Nikki?”
    “Go to hell,” she cried, pulling a shirt out of the suitcase and frantically wiping her face with it. He wasn’t going to catch her crying. Not her. Not Nikki Kydd.
    “Nikki, please.” Josh tried the door, and the knob turned in his hand. Dammit, how many times had he told her to keep her door locked? “I’m coming in.”
    “Go away!”
    He winced as a shoe hit the wall an inch from his face. Well, no doubt about it. She was mad. He peeked around the door, then quickly ducked. Another tennis shoe careened off the jamb, shoelaces flying.
    Silently he waited for the next barrage. When nothing happened, he asked, “Are you finished?”
    Only more silence answered him.
    Braving all, he stepped inside, and immediately dropped the tequila to fend off a sandal. The bottle rolled off the rug and into the wall. The sandal glanced off his arm. He caught the next sandal in mid-arc, dropped it and his glass, and kept on moving forward, confident now of his safety. The lady only owned two pairs of shoes. 
    Nikki threw a shirt, and watched it flutter ineffectually to the floor. Her notebook came next, missing him by a mile, but unerringly finding the lamp on the dresser. The cheap porcelain base rocked once, twice, then fell with a crash, throwing the room into darkness. Josh flinched, cursed, and kept on coming.
    Her choking sobs echoed through the room, and the air remained filled with shirts, pants, socks, until she was stuffing them into his arms. “Get out of here. I don’t ever want to see you again. Not ever. I don’t need you. I never needed you. You needed me. You’ll see”—Her voice broke on a harsh whisper. “You’ll see.”
    Moonshine and the glow from the outdoor lights slowly filled the room, making it impossible for her to hide her tears. She grabbed the last T-shirt out of her suitcase and found herself pressing it against the hard wall of his chest. “I—I swear, Josh Rios, you’ll see.”
    Her fingers clenched around the thin material, pushing him away, but Josh wasn’t going anywhere. He’d expected a fight—they always fought—but not this fire storm of shoes and clothes and tears. He knew her. She would regret the lamp, all two bucks’ worth of it.
    “I’ll pay for the lamp,” he said softly, feeling her hurt as deeply as his own.
    “Damn right you will. Now get out of here.” She dropped her hands to her sides and let the T-shirt fall. Not once did she look up at him. She didn’t have the heart for looking at him.
    Josh stared down at the silvery cap of her hair, the nape of her neck, the satiny sheen of her bare slender shoulder, and fell totally, helplessly in love. The breath went out of him on a ragged sigh, and he wondered what she’d say if she knew he felt like crying, too.
    “Nikki, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He lifted his hand to touch her, but she moved away without noticing. His fingers curled, empty and cold, into his palm.
    “You’re worse than sorry,” she whispered. “Get out, Josh. Leave.”
    Leave her?
He watched her lean against the shutter over the tall window, weariness evident in the tilt of her head. Moonlight streamed in slanted lines down the length of her body, playing light and shadow along her breasts, her hips, and the silky length of her legs revealed by her shorts. He couldn’t leave her. Not like this.
    Drawn by invisible ties, he followed her across the room. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do, but when he stood so close behind her, he automatically reached for her. His hand drifted gently along the curve from her shoulder to her neck, and this time she didn’t move away. Her