“When I said wait for me, I didn’t mean in a dark alley. There’s a murderer on the loose.”
David was seriously aggravated with her. Even before they had dropped Morgana at her apartment, his jaw had seemed locked, his words had been stilted and, when he touched her, it certainly wasn’t with affection.
And what in God’s name did she say?
You’ll never believe this, but I see ghosts. And yes, they can startle me at times, but I’m not afraid of them-they’re just looking for something. They’re here because they need help.
Her brother had already warned her. She didn’t want to be known as the crazy woman who lived in Key West.
She didn’t know what to say. She decided that she had to be on the offensive.
She shook her head. “David, look. I like you. I really like you. But I grew up here. I work here. This is my home. I have walked these streets thousands of times. I can’t lock myself in and forget about my life just because you’ve suddenly come home, determined to catch a murderer, certain that what went on in the past is relevant to today.”
“Gee. What a concept,” he said, his tone grating. She looked at his face. If his features became any more tense, she thought that they might crack and then shatter, like glass.
He stopped dead. They were alone; the street was deserted.
He spun around to stare at her, not touching her, his hands at his sides and far too knotted to do so. “What the hell were you doing?” he demanded. “That was the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard! I just decided to go the quiet way,” he mimicked. “And there was a rustle in the grass, and silly me, I just panicked. My God, is that a crock!”
Staring back at him, fighting for both composure and the right words, she felt ridiculously like crying herself.
It was really so hard. So hard to find someone in life who could make her feel the way that David made her feel. She’d spent so little time with him, and yet, when bizarre things hadn’t been happening, he hadn’t been just sensually and sexually amazing, he’d been someone who really knew her world, loved her world, diving, boats, the water, island life…
She lifted her hands. It hadn’t gone that far, and by the look of him, it wasn’t going any further. Stop it all right now before she was in deep, before it all hurt more than it already did.
“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I felt that I needed to be out. I’d intended to stay on Duval with a zillion other people. Then I idiotically cut off and-this should please you-managed to scare myself half to death. Nothing happened. Nothing happened at all. I heard a leaf rustle, and in my present mood, I crashed back into light and noise as quickly as I could. How the hell did I know you were going to be there? Okay, sorry, I did know you were going to the strip club, but I didn’t know that you’d be out on the patio. I mean, they strip inside. Except at Fantasy Fest, and that’s not really stripping, that’s just folks who like to show off their body paint.”
He just stared at her incredulously. Then he shook his head.
“Why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying!” But she was.
He stared at her awhile longer. She realized that she had caught her breath.
“Please, I’m sorry, and yet I’m not. I live here, this is my life,” she told him. “You left, and now you’re back, but that doesn’t change the island and I-I can’t let it change me. Please understand.”
He let out a sigh of impatience.
He took her by the crook of her arm.
“All right. I’m not getting anything else out of you, not tonight anyway. Let’s get you home.”
At least he wasn’t going to walk off, just leave her in the street.
They started walking, almost ten blocks down Duval. Again, music grew loud.
They turned off and came to her house. She opened the door, and looked at him.
“Am I invited in?” he asked flatly.
“Yes, of course. To stay,” she added softly.
They walked in.
And there was truth to tension, passion and emotion creating something wild and turbulent. In the hallway, they were in one another’s arms.
As they moved up the stairs, they were already removing one another’s clothing and their own.
In her room, they didn’t touch a light or even the bedspread.
They just crashed down, naked and hot, seeking one another’s lips and flesh, and making love as if they had known one another forever…
And as if there would never be another tomorrow.
David talked to Liam first thing in the morning, asking him if anyone had reported a burglary-other than the pickpocket the night before Stella Martin had been found. Liam brought up the reports for the night and the next day and told him no.
“Why are you asking?”
“I talked to Stella’s friend Morgana.”
“So did I,” Liam told him.