“Are you all right?” Concern darkened her eyes as she crossed the room to him.
The fluffy white robe was two sizes too big, but at that moment Cutter thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Her wet hair was slicked back, revealing her high cheekbones and porcelain skin. Her brows were thin and very dark, offsetting her big, pretty eyes. Her hands were red and chapped from the cold, but her bones were fine. Even her feet were sexy.
“I’m fine,” he growled, but he broke a sweat beneath his flannel shirt.
Before he could turn away, she reached out and pressed her fingertips to his forehead. “My God,” she said, “You’re perspiring. I think you may have a fever.”
He had a fever all right. But the heat running through his veins had nothing to do with being sick. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Turning away from her, he started for the bathroom.
“Cutter?”
He stopped, but didn’t face her. “What is it?”
“We haven’t talked about what’s going to happen next.”
He felt a hard tug of regret. He knew all too well what he had to do. What he had been putting off. He had to contact Martin Wolfe and tell him he had Mattie Logan in custody. Within hours two agents would arrive to transport her to prison. Hell, he should have contacted Martin Wolfe the instant he arrived in town. He should have her cuffed and shackled for when the agents arrived to transport her to prison…
Instead he was sharing a meal with her and fantasizing about all the things he wanted to do to her….
“I’m dead on my feet,” he said. “We’ll talk after I get cleaned up. After we eat.”
Not wanting to see the hurt on her face, he turned and started for the shower.
CUTTER FELT ALMOST HUMAN after he’d washed off the grime and cold. His ribs were severely bruised, but none of the wounds appeared to be infected. Wrapping himself in a navy-blue robe, he left the bathroom. Mattie had set out the sandwiches and cut up several pieces of fruit. She was sitting at the table with her face in her hands looking bone weary.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said. “You could have eaten.”
“My parents raised me to have good manners.” She shot him a smile that was more sad than wry. “But then, I don’t think anyone cares about good manners in prison, do they?”
Cutter didn’t know what to say. He sank into a chair and reached for his sandwich. “Eat,” he said.
Neither of them spoke as they delved into their food. But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. There was a tension between them that hadn’t been there before.
“Cutter, after everything we’ve been through, the least you can do is tell me what’s going to happen next,” she said after a moment.
“I’ve got to check in. File a report.”
“And then?”
“Our being in Canada will complicate things a little, but the agency has a lot of pull when it comes to cutting through jurisdictional red tape.” He sighed. “Once that’s taken care of, a couple of U.S. Marshals will pick you up here and you’ll be transported to a secure location. You’ll be asked to give a statement that will go on record. From there you’ll be taken to a federal prison.”
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“Mattie, I told you I’d look into your case.”
“Daniel Savage is a smart man. He was care ful. My defense attorney was good. She and her army of investigators couldn’t find anything to save me. What makes you think you can?”
“I’m better.”
“You’re not going to risk your career for the likes of me. You don’t know me. You don’t care about—”
“I care,” he said.
“If you cared you would not turn me in.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is if you want it to be.”
Cutter set down his sandwich and gave her a hard look. “Doing the right thing and doing what I want are not one and the same.”
“What is it you want, Cutter?” Throwing down her napkin, she rose abruptly. “Justice? The truth?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Yeah? Well here’s a newsflash for you—you’re not. I’m innocent and you’re doing your utmost to send me to prison. What can possibly be right about that?”
“I can’t bend the rules because they don’t suit you,” he said. “Damn it, I have to go about this the right way. There’s protocol. I’ll need proof before I can help you.”
“Don’t tell me about protocol or proof or right and wrong. My life is destroyed. If you take me back none of that is going to save me.”
Angry now, Cutter flung down his napkin and surged to his feet. “A little trust on your part would go a long way right now.”
“Trusting the wrong person is how I got into this mess in the first place,” she returned.
“I’m nothing like Savage,” he said.
“No, you’re just a little more up-front about wanting to ruin my life.”
“Damn it, Mattie, I care.”
“Care about what?” she said. “Protocol?”
He looked into her eyes. “You,” he said, and started toward her.
Chapter Eleven