Loves Redemption

don’t mind. It’s nothing to worry about; I’d just like to see it.”
“I kept it in my jewelry box. You can read it,” Maya agreed.
Soon they returned to their easy conversation, until the waiter appeared with their food.
By the end of the meal, Mark felt as she were opening up to him and sharing more of who she was.
“What made you want to study psychology?” he asked, as the waiter brought them
coffee.
Before answering, she took a thoughtful sip. “I’ve always wanted to know what makes us
behave the way we do. I guess I’m curious as to what makes us tick to put it in layman’s terms,”
she laughed lightly. “Because of my childhood, it seemed fitting for me to try and learn what motivates behavior.”
“That’s one of the reasons I enjoy being a cop,” Mark accepted the leather bound folder
that held his credit card, along with the charge slip from the waiter. “I’ve always wanted to know why people do some of the things they do. What makes a woman snap and kill her husband after years of abuse? What makes a man beat up on someone smaller and more helpless than he is?”
“Was that why you chose to be a police officer rather than pursue law?” After Maya
declined a second cup of coffee, Mark pulled her chair out and she rose from the table as they left the restaurant.
Hand in hand, they walked along the lit path of the River Walk. They passed several
street musicians and paused to listen to them play, dropping money into open guitar cases or hats before continuing on their way.
“That was one of the main reasons,” Mark picked up the thread of their conversation as
they walked. “I also had a hard time seeing myself defend the same people who were abusers.
My father’s firm is one of the best law firms in San Antonio, and his services aren’t cheap. But just because you can afford a good attorney, doesn’t make you any better than the guy who beat up his wife and has to have a public defender represent him,” he said in disgust, as he thought about some of the cases he’d seen daily at the station.
Maya opened her mouth to answer when her right foot buckled. With a small sound of
distress, she stumbled against him, and he steadied her, both hands gripping her waist.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I tripped on a rock, and it hurt my ankle,” she said on a small hiss of pain. As she
steadied herself, she took a tentative step and cried out again. “Oh my God, that really hurts!”
Before she knew what was happening Mark had swung her up in his arms and swiftly strode
away, toward the parking lot.

CHAPTER 15
“Mark, put me down. I can walk, really I can. And besides I’m too heavy to carry that
far.” At his incredulous look, she had to laugh at what she’d said. “Okay, strike that. With the way you’re built, I’m sure there aren’t too many things you couldn’t handle.”
When he laughed again, she thought of what she’d said. “Don’t be a perve, you know
what I mean. I can walk,” she laughed despite the throbbing pain in her ankle.
“I’m sure you can, but indulge me, okay? And for the record honey, as small as you are, a
90-pound weakling could carry you and not feel it.” He feigned pain when her small hand balled up in a fist and smacked him in the middle of his chest.
She gave up trying to convince him to put her down, and instead, laid her head against his
chest with an exaggerated sigh.
It was no hardship for her to allow him to carry her. She knew her thoughts would set the
women’s movement back a few years, if anyone could hear them. But she liked the feel of his hard chest against her cheek. She felt protected and safe.
“Do you want to stop by the hospital? Do you think you sprained it?” he asked with
concern etched in his voice and on his face. He’d adjusted the seat so she could have more room to stretch out her legs after he placed her carefully in the jaguar.
“No, in fact it already feels better. My ankle turned, nothing drastic. It’ll be fine by the time you drive me home,” she said, holding back a grimace of pain. She caught him looking at her throughout the drive to her house.
When they reached her home, he carried her inside before gingerly depositing her on the
floor. “Can you walk inside okay? Or do you need me to carry you?”
“It feels better.” He carefully watched her as he unlocked the door and helped her inside.
Maya flicked on the light switch in the entryway. “Could I offer you something to drink?
Coffee?”
“I don’t drink coffee this late, but if it means spending more time with you, I’d drink a
whole pot. You sit down and point me in the right direction, and I’ll do the rest.”
She grinned and removed her shoes before leading him to the kitchen. Once there, she
told him where to find the necessary things to make coffee. She sat down at the table and
messaged her tender ankle.
“Here, let me do that,” Mark said and moved her hands out of the way as his long, strong
fingers deftly took over the task of massaging her achy foot. Before she knew it, a moan had escaped from her closed lips.
At that moment, she looked down and caught the harsh look of desire stamped on his
face, and felt her nipples tweak in response. He gently placed her foot down and captured her lips with his. He drew the lush lower rim slowly into his mouth before he allowed it to ease back out. “Baby, you taste so good,” he groaned. He tore his lips away from hers and lifted her in his arms and strode from the kitchen.
“Which way to your bedroom?” he demanded