LITMIR.BIZ

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He could sneak out and she would never notice he’d left until morning.

      Then he made the mistake of turning back to look at her.

      She looked peaceful now, but what if she had alcohol poisoning or something? Perhaps she could get sick again and choke to death before ever waking up.

      He walked to the desk and dragged the tiny chair over beside the bed. Figuring he could sit here for a while, he decided he had nothing better to do tonight.

      As Jake stared down into Mary’s sweet face, he remembered their kiss. He’d kissed a lot of women over the years. In fact, for five whole years of his life he had looked forward to sharing his wife’s kisses on a daily basis. But Tina had been gone for ten years, and at this point he couldn’t quite bring the memory of his dead wife’s kisses to mind anymore.

      Was that disloyal? Jake couldn’t stand thinking about that possibility, or about Tina right now.

      He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way Mary clung to him. The way her body had melded to his as if the two of them were destined to be together. As if they had been made for each other right from the beginning of time.

      A stray curl of soft red hair had fallen over her cheek, and he reached over to push it behind her ear. Running his knuckles over ivory skin, Jake remembered how open she’d been. From the very beginning in the bar, she’d been willing to tell him anything.

      She’d also been wide-open to his kisses. Gave him everything he asked for—and more. She was a hell of a good kisser, making him wonder who had taught her so well. Her file hadn’t listed a boyfriend or fiancé, but Jake felt sure that by the age of twenty-nine there must’ve been someone.

      The thought of her file reminded Jake of his mission. He wouldn’t leave her for long, but he was overdue to check in with his partner.

      Forcing his fingers away from her soft, smooth skin, Jake pulled the sheet up over her shoulders and tucked her in. He’d covered up the mermaid, but he didn’t think she would mind.

      Smiling, he pocketed her key card and slipped out of the room. Seconds later he was down the outside stairs and in the parking lot, looking for a quiet place to make his call.

      “What do you mean your assailant—the kid—got away?” His partner Jim was chuckling so loudly over the phone that Jake was afraid someone in the hotel might be able to hear him. “You can’t mean you’ve suddenly grown into such an old man.”

      Stepping farther under a tall ponderosa pine, Jake gritted his teeth and backed into the shadows. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. What are you? All of two years younger than I am? Or maybe you’ve regressed to your teenage years while I’ve been away. At least I got in a clean shot at the kid. Broke his nose for sure.”

      “If he was someone from Honey Creek, a broken nose won’t be hard to spot.” Jim’s silent grin shouted right through the receiver, even though he made every effort to hide it by clearing his throat. “How about the target? Mary Walsh. How’d your first contact go?”

      Jake had to bite his tongue. No way would he tell his partner how unprofessional he’d been.

      “Fine,” he said in a calm voice. “The new plan is going to work out great. In a couple of days I should be meeting everyone in town through her.”

      Before Jim could ask anything else about Mary, Jake sent the conversation off in a slightly different direction. “I know the sheriff in Honey Creek is your old navy SEAL buddy, but are you sure he is definitely in the clear on the murder of our informant?”

      “Wes Colton is so straight you could mistake him for a ruler.” Jim took a deep breath through his nose and Jake could imagine him tempering his irritation over the insolent question. “Wes isn’t involved in our money-laundering investigation. You and I already came to that conclusion. He’s provided us with solid information.”

      Jake tsked at his partner’s lame excuses. “We’re talking about the murder of our main informant. You do remember that we’ve discussed the fact that Mark Walsh had a lot of enemies? His death could’ve been a crime of passion and not connected to our investigation at all. There’re several kinds of passion. Revenge, for one. Wes Colton’s brother has been sitting in the Montana State Prison for the past fifteen years for a crime he obviously did not commit. Sounds like a possible motive for murder to me.”

      Jim grunted through the phone. “I’ve already checked on Wes’s whereabouts around the time of Mark Walsh’s murder, smart-ass. He was at Quantico, taking one of the Bureau’s weekend classes for local enforcement. He was back in time to haul the body out of the creek. But as a suspect? Nope, he’s not a possibility. Check the sheriff off your list.”

      This time it was Jake who was holding back the chuckle. “Got it. Anything else?”

      “Dead ends and false leads so far. But I’m working every detail. Keep me informed of how you’re doing in Honey Creek.”

      Jake hung up and pocketed his phone. Taking one more exploratory trip around the hotel grounds, he checked for anything suspicious and came up empty.

      He headed back to Mary’s room, hoping she hadn’t awakened while he’d been gone. After he’d slipped inside and checked to make sure she was still breathing, he emptied the bathtub and wrung out the towels. Mary’s clothes looked like a lost cause. He dumped them in a pile on the floor.

      Then Jake took up residence in the straight-backed desk chair. One of the most uncomfortable places to sit in his memory.

      But he kicked off his shoes and settled down to wait anyway. He wanted to watch her until the morning to assure himself that she was okay.

      While he watched her sleeping, Jake vowed that he would use these hours to his best advantage. He would work to convince himself that the two of them could indeed have a romantic relationship without becoming intimate. He vowed to use her only up to a point. After all, a few things in life went far beyond his job description.

      “No. No. No. Don’t make me.”

      Jake practically jumped out of his seat and scanned the room for intruders. Early-morning light peeked around the edges of the curtains. No intruders.

      Another noise drew his attention toward the bed. Mary was whimpering and flailing her arms in her sleep. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she cried out with unintelligible words.

      “I hate you. Hate you!” Those words had been clear enough. He relaxed slightly, realizing she was having a nightmare.

      In the next moment she twisted in her sheets and kicked fiercely. She screamed and he began to worry that she was becoming hysterical and might hurt herself. Mary then uttered words that drove a chill up Jake’s spine and sent him stumbling to her side.

      “I wish you were dead. I swear I’ll kill you!”

       Chapter 3

      Strong arms closed around her, bringing Mary out of her nightmare with a start. Where was she? And who could be jumping her while she slept?

      “Easy there. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you. It was only a bad dream.”

      Jake. The cobwebs in her mind disappeared in a flash and she pasted herself to his body. If it had been possible to crawl right inside him, she would not have hesitated.

      He cocooned her. Wrapped her in warmth and tenderness.

      “Relax,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re safe.” Swallowing down the night’s terrors, Mary reached out toward his face to assure herself that this was no dream. She used her forefinger to trace his features, drawing a line from his high forehead down his Roman nose. Her fingers fanned across the strength in his jaw and in and out of the tiny cleft in his chin. She wanted to memorize every dip and ridge, every nuance.

      The reality of being in bed with a sexy man was so much better than anything she had ever

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