“Then I crossed out all non-medical personnel, as well as all doctors who don’t perform surgery.”
“And?” She snapped out of her sensual thoughts as she heard the triumphant tone to his voice. He’d found something, she was sure of it.
“And that leaves us with only two possible BFs,” he finished, a satisfied grin widening his mouth. “Brad Frederick and Barry Forrester. Both surgeons. Both worked there at the time Carrie volunteered.”
Although it was dark outside, Rachel could swear she saw a ray of sunshine seep through the closed window blinds. She suddenly felt exhilarated, as she realized just how close they were to solving this mystery. Because it really had become a mystery. All these years, she’d blamed Travis for Carrie’s demise, felt as if she’d known why her sister had decided suicide was her only option. And then Travis showed up and blew her sense of closure to smithereens. Now, she had a chance to regain that closure.
A tidal wave of happiness and relief crashed over, prompting her to throw her arms around Travis. “Thank you,” she murmured, burying her face against his chest.
His hand reached up her spine to the nape of her neck, and all the soft hairs there tingled. “You’re welcome.”
The embrace should have ended there, a quick, friendly hug to show her appreciation for all he’d done for her, but she couldn’t for the life of her tell her body to move. She held on to Travis like a life preserver, and in a sense, that’s exactly what he was. She felt secure in his arms, protected, and she didn’t want to let go of those feelings.
A low hum began pulsing through the air. Her apartment grew hot, the air grew thick with tension, and when she lifted her head and met Travis’s gaze, she swallowed.
He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it with every beat of his heart against her breasts. And, God help her, but she wanted him too. This was ridiculous. He’d dated her sister, for Pete’s sake. Sure, only for a few months, but the fact that he’d been with Carrie should have made this entire situation feel incestuous.
So why didn’t it?
She took a breath and waited for the warning bells to go off in her head. He’s using you. He only wants one thing. He’ll hurt you.
None of the warnings came. Instead, her mind was as clear and silent as the night sky outside.
“Rachel, tell me to leave.”
His voice was hoarse, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her belly and she fought the urge to reach down and touch him.
The tension in the air crackled as he repeated his words. “Tell me to leave,” he said with a groan. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Regret. God, how many regrets did she have in her life? Too many.
Being with Travis was one thing she didn’t ever want to regret.
“Stay.”
It was merely a whisper, but that one word hung and echoed in the air like Sunday church bells. She’d done it. She’d released the final link of the chain around her heart with that one word.
She was letting him in.
“Are you sure?” His dark eyes pierced her face, and a range of emotion danced in them. Need. Hunger. Hesitance.
“I’m sure.”
With a strangled groan, he grabbed her face with both hands and angled his mouth over hers. She should have been frightened by the overwhelming greediness of his kiss, but she wasn’t. Instead, she parted her lips and allowed his tongue entrance into her mouth. A whimper escaped her throat as his tongue swirled over hers, as it explored and devoured. Her entire body grew weak, limp, as she held on to him for dear life.
“A bed. We need a bed.” His voice was gruff as he shot from the couch and scooped her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.
And then, as though he’d navigated her apartment a thousand times before, he carried her down the darkened hallway into her bedroom.
“Wow.”
Travis paused in the doorway and took in the sight of the dimly lit room. Her bedroom was a little too much, she knew that. Red velvet curtains, a big cedar bed with a heavy satin and lace bedspread. Silk sheets. It looked like it had come straight off the set of an adult film, but extravagant as it was, she’d always felt happiest when surrounded by sensual fabrics.
“Too much lace and satin?” she quipped, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Travis walked over to the bed and gently placed her on top of it. “Nope. You can never have enough lace and satin,” he murmured, his eyes glittering as he stood over her.
She managed a small grin. “Good, because there’s a lot more under my clothes.”