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Authors: Mallory Kane
Tags: Suspense
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leaned over and kissed her brow.
She closed her eyes, wishing he would stop doing that. The feel of his firm-yet-gentle kiss was becoming altogether too familiar, too comforting.
“Is this better?” he whispered against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“Not really,” she muttered as he pulled away.
“Holly. What I do is unusual. When I investigate an unsolved crime, the evidence is already cold. I don’t have leads. I don’t have clues. I don’t have fresh victims or uncontaminated evidence. I can’t work forward, so I have to work backward. In my world, everyone is a suspect until proven innocent. It’s how I have to work.”
She felt Mrs. Ross’s interested gaze still on them. “If everyone in town is a suspect, does that include me?”
Jack didn’t take his eyes off her. “You seem to have airtight alibis for the time of each death.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she drawled, noticing he hadn’t really answered her question.
“Look. If I’m going to be able to protect you, you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. But you have to do what I say and you have to stick with me.”
The sunlight picked up highlights in his black hair and played off the planes of his face, somehow making him look less official, more approachable.
She believed he could protect her. His determined jawline, the glacial gray of his eyes, the strength of his fingers wrapped around the mug—all reassured her. Hehad a quiet control that she had fought all her life to attain. The fragile thread of determination that had kept her going since her parents’ deaths was unraveling. If she lost that and had nothing to replace it, she was afraid she’d fall apart.
Perversely, she wondered if there was anything or anyone that could melt Jack’s icy control. Eyeing him narrowly, she baited him. “You always get your man. Do you always rescue the damsel, too?”
His head jerked slightly as if he’d heard a shot or dodged a blow. Recovering instantly, he raised one brow and looked down at her feet, then let his gaze travel up her legs, past her running shorts and her sports bra, all the way up to meet her gaze. She saw a look in his eyes that disturbed and excited her.
A look of hunger.
She folded her arms over her Lycra-clad breasts, suddenly feeling exposed. Her nipples tightened and she licked dry lips, forgetting her question, until it occurred to her that that was precisely his intent.
She shook off the haze of desire and straightened, reminding herself of where they were. Mrs. Ross probably couldn’t wait to call all her friends to tell them that Holly’s new husband was undressing her with his eyes in the middle of the street.
“This is not a game, Holly. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He looped his arm around her, his hand resting on the curve of her hip. “Let’s go inside. We’ve got an appointment with your uncle in forty-five minutes.”
Knowing that every move they made was destined to be the subject of coffee-break conversations all over town, she gently but firmly slid his hand up to her waist.
She felt a rumble in his chest that could have been a soft chuckle.
“Watch how you act in public, Jack. This is a conservative town, and, like I told you, people are watching.”
Jack leaned over and put his lips near her ear. “If we’re lucky, that includes the killer.”
Chapter Four
“The killer is stocking his love nest.” Jack stood in the garage, talking to Decker on his cell phone.
“That’s what it sounds like. Have you talked to Eric?”
“Nope. I left a message on his voice mail. Here’s the rest of the list.” Jack read off the disturbing items that Holly had listed as missing: a ragged stuffed dog from her childhood, Brad’s class ring, which she’d worn on a chain around her neck all through high school, a ruffled pillow from her bed, a makeup kit. And that was just about half of the list. Combine these with her favorite cup and the nightgown that he
She closed her eyes, wishing he would stop doing that. The feel of his firm-yet-gentle kiss was becoming altogether too familiar, too comforting.
“Is this better?” he whispered against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“Not really,” she muttered as he pulled away.
“Holly. What I do is unusual. When I investigate an unsolved crime, the evidence is already cold. I don’t have leads. I don’t have clues. I don’t have fresh victims or uncontaminated evidence. I can’t work forward, so I have to work backward. In my world, everyone is a suspect until proven innocent. It’s how I have to work.”
She felt Mrs. Ross’s interested gaze still on them. “If everyone in town is a suspect, does that include me?”
Jack didn’t take his eyes off her. “You seem to have airtight alibis for the time of each death.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she drawled, noticing he hadn’t really answered her question.
“Look. If I’m going to be able to protect you, you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. But you have to do what I say and you have to stick with me.”
The sunlight picked up highlights in his black hair and played off the planes of his face, somehow making him look less official, more approachable.
She believed he could protect her. His determined jawline, the glacial gray of his eyes, the strength of his fingers wrapped around the mug—all reassured her. Hehad a quiet control that she had fought all her life to attain. The fragile thread of determination that had kept her going since her parents’ deaths was unraveling. If she lost that and had nothing to replace it, she was afraid she’d fall apart.
Perversely, she wondered if there was anything or anyone that could melt Jack’s icy control. Eyeing him narrowly, she baited him. “You always get your man. Do you always rescue the damsel, too?”
His head jerked slightly as if he’d heard a shot or dodged a blow. Recovering instantly, he raised one brow and looked down at her feet, then let his gaze travel up her legs, past her running shorts and her sports bra, all the way up to meet her gaze. She saw a look in his eyes that disturbed and excited her.
A look of hunger.
She folded her arms over her Lycra-clad breasts, suddenly feeling exposed. Her nipples tightened and she licked dry lips, forgetting her question, until it occurred to her that that was precisely his intent.
She shook off the haze of desire and straightened, reminding herself of where they were. Mrs. Ross probably couldn’t wait to call all her friends to tell them that Holly’s new husband was undressing her with his eyes in the middle of the street.
“This is not a game, Holly. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He looped his arm around her, his hand resting on the curve of her hip. “Let’s go inside. We’ve got an appointment with your uncle in forty-five minutes.”
Knowing that every move they made was destined to be the subject of coffee-break conversations all over town, she gently but firmly slid his hand up to her waist.
She felt a rumble in his chest that could have been a soft chuckle.
“Watch how you act in public, Jack. This is a conservative town, and, like I told you, people are watching.”
Jack leaned over and put his lips near her ear. “If we’re lucky, that includes the killer.”
Chapter Four
“The killer is stocking his love nest.” Jack stood in the garage, talking to Decker on his cell phone.
“That’s what it sounds like. Have you talked to Eric?”
“Nope. I left a message on his voice mail. Here’s the rest of the list.” Jack read off the disturbing items that Holly had listed as missing: a ragged stuffed dog from her childhood, Brad’s class ring, which she’d worn on a chain around her neck all through high school, a ruffled pillow from her bed, a makeup kit. And that was just about half of the list. Combine these with her favorite cup and the nightgown that he
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