“Hey,” he said, “every crook out there has dined all over town. The only difference this time is that usually management never knows about it.”
She turned in the seat to look at him. “Did you learn anything today?”
“It’s an ongoing investigation.”
“Oh, so you can’t tell me?”
He was silent.
“Great! I’m supposed to tell you everything, and in return you get to keep me in the dark.”
He let out a sigh. “We’re investigating a number of leads.”
“That’s a stock line if I’ve ever heard one,” she told him.
“But a true one.”
He glanced at her, and for a moment she thought she saw suspicion in his eyes. A moment later his expression held nothing but concern.
“How about we talk about this in the morning?” he suggested.
“So you’re still staying?” she asked.
He’d found street parking down the block from her place and was maneuvering into the space.
“That’s up to you,” he said, expertly sliding between an old Honda and a shiny new Acura.
“Oh, God!” she snapped. “Stop this! Do you want to stay? I actually wish I didn’t want you to stay, because you’re driving me crazy. It’s up to both of us.”
“It’s up to you,” he said evenly, “because I know I want to stay. Obviously, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. I’ll lie awake all night—”
“Worrying that a killer is after me?” she interrupted.
“That,” he said with a shrug, a small smile on his lips, “and remembering what it was like when I did stay.”
She held very still for a moment.
Hadn’t she been bright enough at some point during the day to think that she really needed to put the brakes on their relationship?
Relationship?
It was Friday night. Come Monday she would have known him for a week.
A niggling unease feathered along her spine.
If she made it until Monday.
She determined not to let fear influence her.
“I’m not sure yet what the hell this thing between us is,” she said, looking forward and not at him. “But yes, I want you to stay.”
He exited the car quickly, then hurried around and opened her door.
He didn’t give her much room; she almost slid into his arms as she got out.
“I’d like to think it’s a relationship,” he said. “Sexual attraction along with something more. I like, admire and respect you. In fact, I find you absolutely fascinating.” He grinned slightly. “I’d like to think of myself as sexually appealing, especially to you—and, of course, I hope you find me intriguing.”
“I’m not sure whether I want to kiss you or deck you,” Kieran told him. She was already a little breathless; her knees didn’t seem to have much staying power. She laid a hand on his chest and asked, “Really? Can this really be a relationship? We only met on Monday.”
He moved closer and whispered against her ear, “Yes, but don’t you think we’re getting to know one another very, very well, even if it is quickly?”
Yes.
She smiled and nodded, and decided that, at least for tonight, she was going to live with the uneasy feeling of an FBI agent coming too close to their daily lives.
Relationship.
So far, she thought, they’d tumbled together in a van and then, in an entirely different way, in a bed. Was that a relationship?
It didn’t matter.
“Let’s go up,” she said huskily.
As they passed the karaoke bar, someone was warbling out a Rolling Stones number—very badly, but with a great deal of energy and happiness.
“One day,” Craig murmured, “I’m going to have to go in there.”
She smiled, feeling his hand at the small of her back as they climbed the stairs.
“You enjoy karaoke?” she asked, slightly incredulous.
“Can’t sing a note, but yeah, I love a karaoke bar. Do you know the owners?”
“Yes, and they’re a lovely couple. He’s Chinese and she’s Japanese. A lot of their customers sing in Japanese and Chinese. Their food is very good, too.”
“That’s got to be a date night sometime in the future,” he said.
Date?
Didn’t a date always follow sleeping together?
At her door, she undid the double locks. As soon as they were inside and she’d resecured the dead bolts, she turned and found herself in his arms. As breathless and turned on as she was, she pulled away, suddenly embarrassed.
“I—I need a shower,” she murmured. “Too much beer, whiskey and white sauce. And,” she added drily, “sweat.”
“As you wish,” he said.
She stripped hastily, leaving a trail of clothing for him to follow as she hurried into the shower.
And follow he did.
She felt his arms around her and heard him whisper in her ear, “Lots of soap, hot water, steam...”
His voice trailed off. For a brief moment she winced, imagining what he might have said, considering the way his morning had started off.
So much blood.
She turned in his arms. The day had been long and difficult for both of them. And now, somehow, despite it all, they were one another’s reward for enduring, for making their way through those endless hours.
Sharing a shower with him was wonderfully sensual.
Steam...
Soap...