I pried an eye open to see Alex’s eyes on me, the intense cobalt fixed, focused. He licked his lips, his smile soft. “I’ll always be your angel, Lawson.”
“My angel Alex,” I mumbled again. “Stay with me. Stay with me here, tonight. Stay forever.” I reached out and found his torso, then worked my fingers under his shirt. He sucked in a breath when my fingertips brushed over his bare skin. He ran his fingers through my hair; I rubbed my fingers over his navel, up his stair-step abs. “Please, Alex.”
“Lawson . . .”
Suddenly, I didn’t just want him—I needed him. Desire flowed through every inch of me and my body, heavy and leaden twenty minutes ago, was suddenly alive and on desperate fire. I sat up, clutched at him. I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him to me, pressing my lips against his, kissing him hungrily.
He kissed me back and something inside me exploded. I gripped at his chest, slid my other hand from his hair to his shoulder, yanking to remove his shirt. He grabbed my hand and when he pulled his lips from mine, their immediate absence felt so wrong it was painful.
“What?”
Alex’s breath was ragged, labored. His skin was hot, but his eyes and his touch were gentle. “We can’t do this, Lawson. You don’t want this. You’re drugged.”
I swung my head. “No, no. I know what I want. I want you.”
Alex gently pushed me away from him, using his other hand to cup my chin. “You’re gorgeous.”
Pain filled every inch of me and the edges of my lips pulled down. “You don’t want me?”
He brushed a thumb over my bottom lip. “I want you more than anything, Lawson.”
“Is it Heaven, then? You don’t want to do anything to keep you out of Heaven again?”
His eyes suddenly went dark and bedroomy, his smile wry but slightly lascivious. “The things I want to do to you would keep me out of Heaven forever and it’d be worth it.” He brushed a tender kiss over my forehead. “But not now. Not like this.”
“But I—”
“Shh, sleep, sweetheart.”
I tried to protest, but Alex’s arms were strong around me and my body had gotten heavy again. He laid me down gently, pulling my covers up and tucking them around me. I was suddenly so incredibly tired.
“You’re a good angel,” I murmured.
I heard his soft chuckle as he straightened. “Go to sleep, okay?”
I nodded, pushing my head into the pillow. My eyes were narrow slits now; I could just make out Alex’s back as he turned to leave.
“I love you,” I muttered.
I was groggy, but I saw him stiffen and pause. Then he pulled the door gently shut behind him.
Chapter Nine
The day after my run-in with Mort and the San Francisco Memorial emergency room was blissfully uneventful—as long as I kept my mind away from thinking about my romantic mumblings to Alex the night before. I wasn’t one-hundred-percent clear about the exact goings-on of our conversation, but every time I even considered it, my mercury rose and my complexion went from day-glow white to midlife crisis Corvette red. I had a grand plan to slink out of the Underworld Detection Agency and finish my Sampson investigation myself, while contributing to Alex’s homicide investigation via e-mail or possibly carrier pigeon.
However, I was unable to get one Payless Shoe Source faux-leather heel out the door before I came face to bloodless face with Dixon Andrade.
“Miss Lawson.” His eyes coasted over me. “That’s a lovely hat.”
My hand flew up to the enormous Titanic-style headpiece I wore. After spending twenty minutes this morning trying to perfect a half-bald-head-hiding comb-over, Nina gave up and slapped the giant saucer on my head.
“Thanks. I was just on my way out.”
“Certainly,” Dixon said without stepping aside. “But first I was hoping to talk to you about our previous discussion. If you have the time, of course.” His expression was kind enough, but his eyes were cold steel, letting me know that I’d damn well better have the time.
I took two tentative steps back into my office and slunk into one of my visitor’s chairs while Dixon settled himself across from me.
“Have you and Alex been able to come up with anything?”
I thought of my fingers ambling all over Alex’s bare chest the night before and shook my head, probably a little too emphatically. “No, nothing.”
“But you two have been working together?”
“Yes, sir.” I knew I should have been uber focused on Dixon and his werewolf hypothesis. It could be the one thing that could prove—or disprove—Sampson’s innocence, but my mind and body only wanted to head back to the relative safety of my bed and my previous drug-addled state. “Have you found anything new?”
Dixon looked away and then back at me. “Can you take off that hat? It’s a bit distracting.”
I clamped my hand over it. “No. It’s . . . crazy hat day. Here. At the office.” I laced my fingers together. “Promotes employee bonding. New thing from HR. You must not have gotten the memo.”
“Okay.”
“So has anyone else spotted this wolf? Or been attacked?”