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was moot. Samantha had already caught Greg cheating and blamed her postpartum body for his indiscretions.
    In the years since, her savagely achieved perfection hadn’t kept him faithful.
    “I’m really tired, Mama,” Sidney said, rubbing her aching forehead. “I think I’ll go to bed early. Tell Daddy I love him, ’kay?”
    “Okay, dear. Take care of yourself.”
    “You, too.”
    Sidney pushed the button on the receiver, feeling tears flood her eyes. “You’re pathetic,” she told herself, brushing them off her cheeks. Before she realized her mother had been calling about Samantha, a ray of hope had spread through her chest, filling an empty part of her.
    Now it was hollow once again.
    She’d never been able to talk to her mother about her feelings, supernatural or otherwise. Aurelia Morrow had “spells,” too, ones that required days of bed rest and absolute quiet. Sidney’s “feelings” had always given Mama “spells.”
    “Whatever,” she said dismally, trying to convince herself she didn’t care. So what if she didn’t have a best friend or close relative to confide in? So what if she didn’t have that special someone who understood her and believed in her and supported her?
    In her experience, few people did. Her mother’s illness, real or imaginary, baffled her father. He’d been walking on pins and needles around her for the past twenty years. Greg and Samantha certainly weren’t soul mates.
    So why did Sidney feel so cheated by circumstance?
    This was all Marc Cruz’s fault, she decided, trudging upstairs to her room. He stirred up latent desires. Placing her cordless phone on the nightstand, she stretched out on the bed in her damp towel and buried her face in the pillows.
    She gasped, feeling his touch.
    Scrambling to a sitting position, she searched the dark room with wide eyes, clutching the towel to her breasts.
    He wasn’t there.
    She lay back down experimentally, her head making a soft indentation in the pillow. She felt his presence, like a ghost hand cradling the back of her head. In response, her nipples peaked against the soft terry cloth, and a tingling warmth throbbed between her thighs.
    Ashamed of her body’s reaction, she squeezed her legs together, trying to will her arousal away. Instead the tension built, slowly becoming unbearable.
    With no one else to touch her, she surrendered to temptation and touched herself.

Chapter 5
    W hen Marc showed up on her doorstep at 5:25 the next morning, he looked tired.
    In deference to the heat, or the occasion, he was wearing lightweight trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, not tucked in. His eyes were guarded, devoid of warmth, but his chocolate-brown hair appeared invitingly thick and lustrous. It was the kind of hair a woman liked to run her fingers through, and perhaps one just had, considering its tousled appearance.
    Half as polished as usual, he was twice as handsome.
    “Ready?”
    “Yes.” She didn’t know proper etiquette for greeting a police officer at the door. “Do you want a cup of coffee…or anything?”
    His dark gaze flicked over her. “No.” He took a pair of sunglasses out of his front pocket and covered his eyes, although it was barely light out.
    Frowning at his brusque treatment, she stepped through the door and locked it behind her. She had to hurry to keep up with him on the way to the parking garage.
    “We’re taking your truck.”
    “Fine,” she replied. It made sense that he wouldn’t want Blue in his fancy car, growling and breathing down his neck.
    “I’ll drive,” he offered. Shrugging, she tossed him the keys and climbed in the passenger side. Obviously he didn’t want to be here with her. So why had he suggested this outing? Deciding two could play at being unfriendly, she let the silence stretch between them.
    They picked up Blue at the kennel, where Sidney did a quick feed and clean while Marc acted bored and looked impatient. By the time she was finished, the sun was burning through