Grave Secrets (11 page)

Morgan snorted. “Naw. Slim has everything he ever wanted. He won’t get rich, but he sure is happy. Besides, he has all the business he can handle. You should see the place on a Friday night after a ball game. It’s packed. And if you linger too long, they’ll ask you to leave.”

“You’re joking.” She’d never heard of such a thing.

“Honest truth.” He threw her a look, then shrugged.

Sara burst out laughing just thinking of someone physically dumping you out of the chair and telling you to leave. Then going back for the same treatment the next week.

“Slim doesn’t treat his customers any different than he treats his kids. He’s a tough ol’ cuss.”

“Apparently. Everyone loves him, anyway. Right?”

“You got it.” He glanced at her, his white teeth gleaming in the dim interior of the vehicle. His facial features relaxed with his smile as the tough PI image he usually projected evaporated. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes, hard muscles stretched the fabric of his shirt, and his lip curled on one side when he grinned. He looked as if he were someone she’d like to know better.

They weren’t taking the river road back to town. Instead, he’d cut over to the Interstate and made good time. When he slowed and took an unfamiliar exit, she frowned. “Where are you going?”

“The cemetery.”

“The...? Oh, yes. I’d forgotten. My car.”

“Unless you want to leave it there overnight.”

“No, thank you. Someone might think that’s an invitation to go joy riding.”

He pulled alongside the pristine white Lexus, put the black SUV in Park, and started to get out. She held up a hand. “That’s okay. It’s only two steps.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes.” He was being such a gentleman, and it felt rather nice. It didn’t slip her notice the difference between their two vehicles, black versus white.

A sudden flash of the old western movies with the bad guy always wearing a black hat flitted across her mind. Where would her husband have fit in? Even with her first impression of Morgan as a bad guy—and he could certainly fit the part when he chose—Sara couldn’t picture him on the wrong side of anything. Not after the events of the afternoon and evening. However, it was like the man was a mixture of both, and she found that a little frightening and reassuring at the same time. Odd.

Jason preferred silver-toned cars, yet allowed Sara to own a lowly white one. He’d still insisted on at least a Lexus. In truth, she didn’t mind the car. It had some nice bells and whistles she enjoyed. Morgan’s vehicle had some nice amenities, too.

She eyed her car. Was white really “good?” Along with everything else in her life, it had to meet certain standards. Even after Jason’s death she was still part of the elite social circle. Sara envied Cat her freedom in choosing her outlandish outfits and driving the bright red convertible. Personally, Sara would like to own a baby blue...something. She didn’t care if it was a Ford, Chevy, or even a Jeep. As long as she and Kaycee would be comfortable in it. She could even trash it up—as Morgan had done his Navigator. She sighed. That was a different world than the one she currently lived in. Maybe someday...

She glanced at Morgan, who sat patiently behind the wheel waiting on her. Studying her. The evening had been so nice she didn’t want it to end. To her surprise, she’d enjoyed Morgan Daniels’ company. She’d seen a side of him she hadn’t expected, not with his gruff exterior. The man was very good at protecting that soft spot from the world. Which included her.

Swallowing a sigh, she thought of walking into her house. “Um, would you—?”

“I’m following you home, in case you were going to ask.”

Relief coursed through her. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “No problem.”

Sara slid from the vehicle—hesitated just a moment, thinking she should say something else. How silly. She lowered her gaze, then closed the door. He waited for her to start her car and pull out before falling in behind her. She’d driven the route from her house to the cemetery so many times she didn’t have to think about the direction. Granted, she’d never been to Jason’s gravesite this late—the cemetery took on an ominous sensation after dark. She shook off the feeling, recalling the loud and crowded restaurant with the food served on paper—the drinks in a Mason jar. She couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed herself more. If she had to compare the restaurants from lunch and dinner, she thought she preferred the more casual one from this evening.

When she pulled into her driveway, the queasiness she’d held at bay during the day returned. As she came to a stop and turned off the motor, she sat a moment, staring at the dark monstrosity she called home. Wasn’t a home supposed to be warm, welcoming? Had this house ever felt that way?

Yes, she decided. When they’d first bought it, then again after Kaycee’s birth. Sara’s world had been perfect. They’d waited so long to start a family. Her daughter’s arrival had been everything Sara could have hoped for. Jason spent more time at home and less at the office. Most nights he was there to help tuck the baby in, even getting up occasionally with a few of the nighttime feedings, bringing her to Sara to nurse. They had reconnected as a couple. Now, with their absence, the structure had become cold. During the course of the last couple of days, it had taken on a different, more unwelcoming note. One that chilled Sara to the bone.

Sara shrieked at a tap on the car window. She sucked in a ragged breath as Morgan bent close to the glass.

“You gonna sit there all night or are you going in?” He stepped back from the door, giving her room.

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” She pulled the oversized purse to her chest, giving it and the stuffed rabbit inside, a brief squeeze. She knew the rabbit was a crutch, but was unable to leave it behind. Regardless of all outward appearances, she was unsure of herself.

Despite the fact Morgan had seen her wrestling with a drunk and had taken her out to eat, she still felt compelled to maintain a composed demeanor. Or a semblance thereof. Even if it took every ounce of energy, because walking into her house after dark and with no lights on was more than a little unnerving. At least it was after the recent strange occurrences. It was all she could do to keep from checking into a hotel. No. She’d handle staying alone in her own home, one way or the other. Maybe those sleeping pills wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Just for a night or two.

Sara stepped out of the car, striding up the walkway, quivering inside yet grateful Morgan walked her to the door. She took a deep breath and prayed he didn’t see her trembling hands as she unlocked the door, unsure of exactly what she’d find once she entered the house. She plastered her best smile in place and turned to him. “Care to come in for some coffee?”
Please, please, please.

He looked toward the dark interior. “You didn’t leave any lights on.”

He hadn’t answered her question. She lifted her chin defiantly. “I didn’t think I’d be out after dark. If you don’t have time, it’s quite all right.” She hated that her voice quivered a little on the last word.

“You think someone might be in there?”

“No, of course not. I...”

He drew his eyebrows together a moment as his gaze swept the outside of the building. “You stay here. I’ll check it out.” He turned toward the front door.

“I don’t think so!” Sara didn’t know what was worse, going into the darkened structure alone or staying outside where the darkness was only held at bay by the sensor generated lights.

He nodded slightly, his demeanor having changed from the person who’d laughed and joked during dinner to the cold yet competent investigator.

Her protector.

She didn’t want to think of him that way. She’d stood on her own over the last months and didn’t want to need anyone. It was a matter of personal pride she’d held herself together without pills—though the counseling had been God sent. However, the darkened house scared her all the way to her toes.

Morgan moved around her and with one hand gently pushed the door open as he tucked her behind him with the other.

That one small protective movement settled over her like a cozy shawl. She wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him. She wanted to tell him it was all right, there was no need now. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she moved quietly behind him like a shadow as he went from room to room while he flipped on lights, her hand placed on the small of his back to maintain a connection. Nor did she protest his taking these precautions. He didn’t find anything, so she knew she’d be safe.

Hopefully.

If only things would quit moving themselves while she slept. And faces of her dead husband would stop floating outside the window.

Embarrassed at being so skittish, once they’d gone through the house, she walked Morgan to the door. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem.” He studied her face more intently. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

His presence sucked the air out of the room as his body invaded her space. He was too close. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Right now she was anything but all right. Drowning in the dark depths of his eyes, her pulse fluttered, and her breathing became shallow. Heat pooled in the lower regions of her body. He must have sensed her feelings as desire flared in his eyes. Without warning, he closed the remaining distance between them.

He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her against him, leaving no question as to his desire. Without hesitation, he captured her lips in a hard kiss. Shocked, she stood stiffly at first, then relaxed and gave herself over to the sensations flooding her. Slowly he softened the kiss, teasing her lips apart. As their tongues dueled, she inched closer to him, pressed her body to his.

The warmth and power of being in his embrace chased away the darkness, fear and loneliness of the previous months. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned the kiss with a fervor she hadn’t expected. It had been so long since she’d felt desirable—wanted. She needed this, could drown in his arms, in his mind-blowing kiss.

Too soon he pulled back, laying his forehead against hers. She groaned in protest even as she sucked oxygen into her lungs. His own breath sawed in and out.

When he skimmed a finger down the side of her face, across her swollen lips, then down her throat, she thought he’d undo the buttons on her blouse. Instead, he lifted one side of his mouth a moment, blew out a breath, then stepped back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he finally managed to say. “It was unprofessional.”

Please don’t stop,
she wanted to scream. The only thing she could muster was a weak smile. If it weren’t for his still ragged breathing and the bulge in his pants, she would’ve thought the kiss had meant nothing to him. Knowing it had taken him by surprise bolstered her spirits.

“You have no idea how much I needed that. It has been so long since...” She refused to divulge how long it had been since she’d been kissed as if she were the most desirable woman on the planet. Before his look of want turned into a look of pity, she said, “Thank you for...for everything.”

“Sara, I—”

Quickly she placed her fingers on his lips. Partly to keep him from saying something she didn’t want to hear, partly to touch those wonderful lips of his again.

“Good night, Morgan.” She opened the door, waited as he finally took the none-too-subtle hint, then turned and walked away.

Not wanting to see the questions in his eyes if he happened to look back, she quickly closed the door. It had only been six months since Jason’s death, yet here she was, wanting to throw herself at another man. Guilt slammed into her. If she dreamed tonight, would it be of the man she’d married and still mourned? Or the man, who in a few short minutes, had touched and awakened her battered soul?

****

It had been days, but Morgan still couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind. He hadn’t been prepared for the avalanche of shock waves that hit him when she’d melted in his arms. The fact he’d thrown all his principles out the window in one massive rush of lust didn’t dim the overpowering need to taste her. If she hadn’t looked so vulnerable yet inviting at the same time, maybe he would’ve kept control of the greedy desire to make her his, to see what kind of heaven she offered.

The urge to drag her to the floor and take her right there had nearly knocked the wind out of him. Luckily he’d stopped himself before it had gone too far. He hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, though, as memories of her body pressed enticingly to his kept flashing in his brain. She’d fit perfectly in his arms. When he’d touched the top button on her blouse, his instinct had been to pop it open. To watch as inch by inch, button by button, he exposed her creamy skin, then caress the softness she offered. The one sampling of her sweetness hadn’t been enough. His body wanted more.

Damn it. Stop acting like some horny teenager
.

Sara Adams was a suspect, which made her off-limits. Period. He swore to himself he wouldn’t cross that line again. Remaining detached and focused on the case had to be his primary goal. Damn if it wasn’t one of the hardest things he had to do. No, he had to put how Sara’s body felt out of his mind, even if his own body had a more immediate, and painful, reaction to just thinking about her.

He swallowed the last bite of the greasy hamburger he’d picked up for lunch, crumpled the paper and dropped it in the trashcan. As he swiveled in his office chair, movement outside the window caught his attention. A familiar white Lexus slowly circled the parking lot before pulling into a space in front of his office. He smiled. The uptown lady had come downtown, so to speak.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the little shopping center; it’d just been neglected too long is all. His office was tucked between Susie Q’s Tanning Salon and Marcy’s Needlepoint Shop. Morgan hoped Marcy would expand and take up the empty space on the other side of her. The seedy billiards parlor on the far end was the one business that detracted from the overall appearance.

Except for a few vacant storefronts, one of the things that had attracted him to the shopping center had been its unpretentiousness. Having an office here was almost like being invisible. A large number of his clients didn’t want to be spotted by their friends visiting a private investigator, so this was a perfect location.