LITMIR.BIZ

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laughed at her sudden coyness.

      “If you tried hard enough.” Her breath had been warm seduction, rolling over his skin.

      “This is a test?” He’d kissed that sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

      “Mmmm.”

      “Am I passing?”

      “Barely,” she’d murmured, though her hands were already running their magic along the muscles of his back, and her nipples had tightened. He had run his tongue over one, and she’d arched up.

      “Barely, my ass.” His breath had blown over the wet tip of her breast.

      “And what a great ass it is.” One of her hands had cupped his buttock, the tip of her fingers brushing his cleft.

      Lust had gushed through his blood, and he was suddenly white-hot with wanting her, feeling her touching him intimately as he swept her legs apart with his knees and…

      “Shit!” he said aloud to the empty Jeep. He was driving ten miles over the speed limit, taking the risk of being pulled over when he didn’t dare have any run-ins with the cops. Not tonight.

      He sucked in his breath, his hands sweaty over the wheel. The image of Eve lying upon her back, naked and wanting, her lips parted, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with wet, hot desire, still pounded through his skull.

      Yet on that night, within seconds of further lovemaking, her cell phone had rung and she’d nearly leapt from the bed. It was as if the caller, Royal Kajak, had yanked her to her feet with an invisible string.

      “You’re leaving now?” Cole hadn’t hidden his surprise and growing anger as he watched her pull on a pair of tight jeans.

      “Yes.”

      “Why?”

      “He needs me.”

      “He’s a nutcase.”

      “Doesn’t change the fact that he needs to talk.”

      “About what?”

      She’d hesitated then, and he’d sensed she was lying when she said, “I don’t know.”

      “Sure you do.”

      “I won’t until I talk to him.”

      “At this time of night? It can’t wait?” He’d glanced at the clock. Already after ten. But his argument had fallen on deaf ears.

      “I won’t be gone long. I know it’s late but…that’s Roy for you.” She’d slid her arms through her little scrap of a bra then pulled her long-sleeved T-shirt over her head.

      “Where are you meeting him? Can’t he come here?”

      “No…he’s…he’s at his uncle’s cabin, the one I told you about…where he and I used to go when we were kids.”

      “The fishing cabin?”

      “That very one.” She’d searched the bedroom, found one shoe, and slid it on.

      “Call him back. Tell him to meet you here. Or…or at your house. Or in the morning, for God’s sake.” Cole had rolled to a sitting position. “You don’t need to drive out to some decrepit cabin in the swamp. I grew up out there. It’s not safe.”

      “He’s already there. Waiting.”

      “So what? His car won’t start? You can’t call him back, change the plan?”

      “I’m going, Cole.” Her voice had brooked no argument. “Oh.” She discovered her other shoe near the window and stepped into it. “This isn’t open for debate. Roy is critical to some of my research, you know that.”

      Cole knew in his gut that whatever Roy told Eve over the phone, it had nothing to do with her studies of aberrant psychological behavior. “If it’s just about research, then it can wait until morning.”

      She’d shrugged into her jacket and headed toward the bedroom door. A woman determined. A woman with a secret.

      Cole had thrown back the covers. “Hell, if you’re so goddamned stubborn, I’ll come with you.”

      “No!” She’d spun on a heel to face him. “He has something he wants to talk to me about. Obviously something important. He won’t like it if I don’t come alone. He’ll clam up. Be embarrassed and self-conscious.”

      “Eve, listen to—”

      “How many times have you left me? Just up and went to meet a client without a word of explanation?”

      He was surprised when she suddenly took the offensive. “That’s different.”

      She had snorted and pulled open the bedroom door.

      Quick as lightning, suddenly realizing she wasn’t going to listen to reason, Cole had shot out of the bed, grabbing his own crumpled Levis. “There’s lawyer-client privilege and—” he’d started to rationalize as he stepped into one leg of his jeans and hopped toward the door.

      “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she’d cut him off.

      On the landing overlooking the foyer, still struggling with the damned Levis, he’d called, “I don’t like this, Eve.”

      She was heading down the sweeping staircase of his home, moving quickly, one hand trailing along the polished banister. She didn’t so much as glance back at him.

      “It’s not safe.” He had then managed to jerk the denim up his legs and over his bare butt as she reached the floor below.

      “I’m a big girl, Cole.”

      “Wait! Eve, this is nuts!”

      She was at the door, purse slung over her shoulder, as he hurried down the stairs, still fiddling with his damned button fly.

      “You can’t—”

      “I can and I will.” She’d grabbed for the door handle, but Cole threw himself in front of it, barring her exit.

      “Just…wait,” he’d demanded.

      That had really infuriated her.

      “You’re barricading me in?” she’d asked in disbelief. “These aren’t the Middle Ages! Get out of the way!”

      “I’ve never trusted Roy.”

      “You don’t trust anyone,” she’d shot back. “Even me, it seems. So cut out all this Machiavellian, macho, backwoods crap!”

      That’s when he had made his biggest mistake: he grabbed her hard, his fingers circling her upper arms, holding her still.

      “I’ll come with you.”

      She had looked down at his taut fingers. “Let go of me, Cole,” she’d said in a curiously controlled voice. “So help me God, don’t you ever try to restrain me again.” When she met his gaze again, her eyes were filled with cold fury.

      “What is it, Eve?” he’d asked, loosening his grip. He was at a loss to understand her. What kind of pull did Roy Kajak have over her? Childhood friend? Research subject? Or something more? Something deeper. Darker. Vastly more intimate.

      “You’re way out of line here.” Her voice was low, threatening. “Way out. I’m leaving. You’re staying, and if you don’t let go of me this instant, I’m calling the police.”

      He’d dropped her arms as if she’d stung him, watching as she snagged her cell phone from the side pocket of her purse.

      “You’d call the cops on me?”

      She didn’t answer, just had shouldered past him, cell phone still in hand, as she yanked open the door and hurried to her car.

      Even now, months later, he could still hear the thud of her car door slamming shut, the cough

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