Her eyes widened when she saw the flash of foil, saw the stack of protection he set on the nightstand.
“I’m done with the sofa. Rules or no rules, from now on I’m in your bed.”
She swallowed. She hadn’t considered tomorrow. Just the burning need she’d had to assuage. She felt dazed and well-used. And more womanly than ever before.
Unease filtered through her. She had given him some part of herself she hadn’t known existed. He’d given her pleasure unlike anything she’d experienced before. It should have been enough. It should have settled her, soothed the desperate yearning. And yet she wanted more.
The knowledge was frightening. Aside from their shared physical attraction, she didn’t fit into his life. Ethan didn’t fit into hers.
How much pain would she feel when it ended? Since the night Bobby had died, Val had never been more afraid.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ethan awoke at dawn. He’d always been an early riser, looked forward to getting things done in the quiet hours of the morning. Lying beneath a comforter in the big king-size bed, he shifted, realized something was different today. It took a moment to remember last night and the soft curves of the woman whose naked bottom pressed intimately into his groin.
His morning erection stirred. He remembered he had broken the rules, remembered the hot night he and Val had shared. He heard her soft purr, felt her hips nudging, caught the flirty glance she tossed him over a pale shoulder covered by a fall of long honey-gold hair.
Reaching for the bedside table, he grabbed a condom and sheathed himself. Gripping her hips, he slid into her waiting warmth, taking what he wanted. Her moan was low and throaty, thick with pleasure as he moved. It didn’t take long before both of them were sated.
Rolling onto his back, he listened to Val’s deep breathing, knew she had drifted back to sleep. She’d been amazing last night, giving and taking, pleading and demanding. It occurred to him that the depth of sexual gratification they’d shared was new to her. If he were honest, the emotional attachment he felt made it new to him, too.
He refused to consider what that meant. He wanted her; she wanted him.
One thing he knew: Val had deep sexual needs and he was just the man to satisfy those needs. For now that was all that mattered. In the meantime, there were other things more important than pleasure.
There were murders to solve and people to protect. It was his job. That job wouldn’t end until this was over, no matter what Matthew Carlyle said.
He kissed Val’s temple and rolled from the bed, padded naked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It was Saturday, a well-deserved day off, at least for Val. Once he was dressed, he would check his e-mail, see if he’d gotten a reply to the message he’d sent Sadie. He’d get his work done and let Val sleep.
At least for a while.
Dressed once more in jeans and a T-shirt, he sat down in front of the sofa, opened his laptop, and pulled up his mail. Sadie’s reply popped up, along with an attachment.
Thursday night, as he’d worked through possible leads and tried to keep his mind off Val, he’d had an idea. During his cop days in Dallas, he’d stumbled across a group of local psychologists who conducted an interactive online forum once a month. They gathered to discuss unusual cases, get feedback between group members, though no patient names were ever disclosed.
He’d discovered the group when a female doctor named Helen Burk had helped him track down a dangerous schizophrenic who had murdered his parents. In the beginning, Helen had been reluctant to break doctor/patient confidentiality, but as the evidence mounted, along with fear the guy might kill someone else, she finally came forward.
Ethan had no suspect this time. Helen Burk wouldn’t give him squat. Which was the reason he had e-mailed Sadie.
He opened her message.
Morning, hotshot. Did a little digging. (Find docs attached.) As you conned me—as usual—into doing, I went back through the chat sessions of the shrinks’ monthly meetings for the past two years. I condensed them down so even a slow learner like you could get through them. They ought to keep you busy and out of trouble at least for a while.
His mouth edged up. He thought of the beautiful naked woman in the bedroom and arousal slid through him.Too late, Sadie. I’m already in major-league trouble.
He looked down at his e-mail. He had also given Sadie a profile of the man he believed he was looking for: a loner, someone off the grid, a guy who had probably been raised out of the city. Home-schooled. No vaccinations. Parents likely never took him to a doctor.
He read the words on the screen.
Oh, did I mention, I can probably save you the trouble of reading all that crap? I think I found your guy. Or at least where to start looking for him. When you get this, call me.
Sadie was such a smart-ass. Probably why he liked her so much.
He took out his cell. On Saturday, the fifty-year-old grandma, world’s most unlikely computer genius, was usually working in the office. He punched in the number, then her extension.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey, hotshot. Figured I’d hear from you earlier. Bet I don’t have to ask if you had a female keeping you company last night.”
He smiled. “It’s none of your business, Sadie. Now tell me what you found.”
