Lethal Attraction: Against the Rules\Fatal Affair (48 page)

“What happened to all the glass?” she asked.

“I paid my cleaning lady double to come in today and deal with it, but we probably shouldn’t walk around barefoot for a while.”

“How’s your foot?”

“Sore.”

She winced. “And I had you out walking on it earlier. I never even thought about it. I’m sorry.”

He leaned in to kiss her. “No worries, babe. Computer’s in the office. I’ll take our stuff upstairs.”

“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time. I’ve got to finish my eulogy.”

She went up on tiptoes to kiss him while wishing there was something she could say to ease his pain. But knowing only time could do that, she let him go and headed for his office. Kicking off her shoes, she sat down to boot up his computer. Before she got to the research she planned to do, she wrote the report on the incident at Eastern Market and saved it to Nick’s desktop.

While she waited on the police department system to log her in, she took note of the fastidious order on the dark cherry-wood desktop. Feeling mischievous, she nudged the pile of books out of alignment, shifted the container of paperclips so it was off center, turned all the black pens in the pen cup upside down and drew a heart with an arrow through the Sam loves Nick she had written on the blotter.

Pleased with her handiwork, she turned her attention to Patricia Davidson’s credit card records. Scanning through the pages, her eyes began to blur with fatigue until she stopped short on an airline charge from two days before John’s death. “Well, look at you, Miss Patricia,” Sam whispered, the kick of adrenaline making her heart beat faster. “Gotcha!”

She took a moment to look the woman up online get a visual on her before she called Freddie. “Have you got Elin?”

“We’re on our way.” He named one of the city’s best hotels.

“Jeez, spare no expense, why dontcha,” she muttered, imagining the grief she’d get when that expense report landed on Malone’s desk.

“Just following orders, Sergeant.”

“Patricia Donaldson bought a seat on a flight from Chicago to Washington the day before O’Connor’s murder.”

Freddie released a long deep breath. “Wow. I totally missed this one. I’m sorry.”

“We all missed it.”

“But I interviewed her. I should’ve caught the vibe—”

“Knock it off, Cruz.”

“I don’t see her having the strength to get that knife through O’Connor’s neck. She was almost fragile.”

“Rage can make people a lot stronger than normal.”

“Yeah, I guess. Would she have a key to his apartment?”

“Maybe she came for conjugals once in a while. It wouldn’t surprise me that she had a key—I mean who
didn’t
have a key to that place?”

“Right. And don’t forget, he could’ve let the killer in after he got home.”

“I still say he was taken by surprise since he was murdered in bed. Anyway, don’t let Elin out of your sight, do you hear me?”

“It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.”

CHAPTER 33

Sam ended the call and sat back in the big leather chair. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander through the parts and pieces, hoping something would start to add up. The frustration was starting to get to her as day after day went by without the big break she needed to wrap this up.
I’m missing something
.
Something big. But what?

“Everything all right, babe?” Nick asked from the doorway.

Holding out her arms, she invited Nick to join her. “We might be starting to get somewhere. Patricia Donaldson bought a ticket on a flight to D.C. the day before John’s murder. We’ve got people trying to figure out where she’s staying in the city. Nothing on the credit report shows her hotel.”

“You’ll figure it out.” He kneeled down in front of her and leaned into her embrace. “What brought on this spontaneous show of affection?”

“I just needed it,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m frustrated, aggravated, pissed that it’s taken me so long to hone in on her, that someone else had to die...”

“Well, I’m happy to provide comfort any time you need it.” He suddenly stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling back to look at him.

“What did you do to my desk?”

“Nothing,” she said, all innocence.

“You did, too. You moved things, and you probably did it on purpose to screw with me.”

Sam dissolved into laughter. “You’re
such
a freak show.” When he would’ve gotten up to fix it, she stopped him. “Leave it. See if you can do it.” She gripped his hands. “Come on. Be strong.”

“Why does it bother you so much that I require order?”

“What you require is so far beyond order the sphincter police haven’t invented the word for it yet.”

“Fine. If you want to make a mess and walk away, that’s your problem. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yes, it does,” she said, laughing to herself at his definition of a mess. He hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was capable of in that regard. “I bet you’ll sneak down here when I’m sleeping tonight and fix it.”

“No, I won’t,” he said, his eyes flashing with the start of anger.

“It’s okay if you do,” she cooed. “I’ll still love you and all your anal retentive freakazoidisms.”

At her words of love, he softened, but only a little.

She ran her fingers through his hair and leaned in to kiss him. “Will you do me a favor?”

“What?” he asked in a terse tone.

“Will you read my report about the shooting at Eastern Market for me? See if I made any mistakes?”

He looked at her oddly as he got up to take her place at the desk.

Sam stood behind him, hanging over his shoulder as he went through the events of earlier, making tweaks here and there. She was relieved that he found no blatant errors.

When he was done, he turned to her. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

She pursed her lips, wanting to tell him, but feeling shy all of a sudden. “Well, you were there. I was just making sure I didn’t miss anything.”

He reached for her hand and brought her down to sit on his lap. “You don’t need me for that. What is it, babe?”

“I’m dyslexic,” she said for the second time that day. “Freddie usually checks me, but since he wasn’t involved in this, I didn’t feel right asking him. Plus he’s baby-sitting one of John’s girlfriends at the moment.”

“I’m glad you asked me. I’ll do it for you any time.”

She attached the file to an e-mail to the arresting officer. Then she returned her attention to Nick. “Thank you,” she said, pressing her lips to his for what she intended to be a quick kiss.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip before tipping his head to delve deeper. As he kissed her, he arranged her so she straddled him and took her by surprise when he pulled back to whip the sweater up over her head.

Sam shivered as cool air hit her fevered skin. “Nick—I’m working—I can’t right now.” As she said the words, she reached for the hem of his shirt, but he stopped her. Moaning with frustration, she found his mouth for another frantic kiss and gasped when he released her bra. “Got to work...”

“Shh,” he said, feasting on one breast and then the other.

Surrendering to the sensory assault, Sam gripped his shoulders and tried to convince herself that taking ten minutes for herself didn’t make her a crappy cop.

“You have the most beautiful breasts,” he whispered, trailing his tongue in circles around her nipple.

“They’re too big.”

“No,” he said, laughing. “They’re not. They’re utter perfection. In fact, I could sit here all night and do nothing but what I’m doing right now until the sun comes up.”

She tilted her pelvis tight against his throbbing erection. “Really? Nothing but this? All night?”

He groaned. “Maybe we could mix it up a bit.” Helping her to her feet, he unbuttoned her jeans, hooked his fingers into her panties and divested her of both garments in one swift move before bringing her back to his lap.

“You’re kind of overdressed,” she said, tugging at his shirt.

“Patience, babe.” Raining hot, open-mouthed kisses on her neck, he ran his hands up and down her back, sending shivers of desire dancing through her.

“I don’t have any patience. Don’t you know that by now?”

He propped her thighs on his legs and then moved his feet apart, opening her.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, her words infected with a stammer.

“Touching you.”

“I want to touch you, too.”

“You’ll get your turn.” He cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over nipples still sensitive from his earlier ministrations. “It was infuriating today to hear that bastard call you frigid.” His hands coasted down over her ribs. One arm encircled her while his other hand slid through the dampness between her legs. “Feel that?” he whispered. “That’s as far from frigid as you can get.”

“I hardly ever came when I had sex with him,” Sam managed to say. “It made him mad.”

“We know you weren’t the problem, right?” he asked as he drove two fingers into her.

Sam cried out.

“Did you mess up my desk on purpose?” he asked, his fingers coming to a halt deep inside her.

Laughing, she said, “Maybe!” She wiggled her hips, begging him to continue.

“’Fess up or you won’t get what you want.”

“Yes! I did it!”

“That was easy,” he chuckled. “Now you must be punished.”

She moaned as he found the spot that throbbed for his touch.

He shifted the arm he had around her so his hand gripped her ass, holding her still for his gliding fingers. When he captured her nipple between his teeth, the combination lifted her into a powerful orgasm that stole the breath from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes.

“So hot,” he whispered against her lips. “So,
so
hot.”

His fingers continue to tease, and Sam was astounded to feel another climax building. Somehow she marshaled the energy to tear at his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. She ran her hand down his chest to his belly and below, dragging her finger over his steely length.

He inhaled sharply.

“Nick,
please
. I want you.”

“You have me, Samantha. I’m all yours. Forever and always.” He kissed her as if it was the first time all over again, exploring her mouth with deep, penetrating sweeps of his tongue.

When she couldn’t stand the burning need another minute, she worked her way off his lap, pulled him up and stripped him in record time. Dropping to her knees, she took him into her mouth.

“Sam...” He buried his fingers in her hair. “Babe, wait. This was about you. Come up here.”

“You said I’d get my turn,” she pouted, dragging her tongue over him as she looked up to find his eyes bearing down on her.

“And you will.” He helped her up, returned to the chair and brought her down to straddle him once again. “I love you.”

She tilted her hips and took him in. Leaning forward she touched her lips to his. “I love you, too.”

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing that.”

“I’m never going to get tired of saying it.”

“Promise?”

She nodded and rolled her hips to take him deeper.

Releasing a long deep breath, his eyes fluttered closed.

Sam kissed the bandage above his eye and rode him slowly, each movement taking them both closer...so close.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms tight around her, stood up and carried her to the sofa without losing their connection.

Hooking his arms under her knees he held her open for his fierce possession. Caught up in the thrill, Sam came with a sharp cry of release that dragged him right down with her.

“Damn,” he whispered a minute of heavy breathing later. “Just when I think it can’t get any more perfect...”

She brushed the damp hair off his forehead. “It does.”

“We’re going to kill ourselves if it gets any more perfect.”

Sam laughed. “Hell of a way to go.”

With his eyes fixed on hers, he kissed her softly.

“I have something I need to tell you,” she said, her stomach twisting as she said the words.

“Now?”

Filled with a kind of fear she hadn’t often experienced, she bit her bottom lip and nodded.

* * *

“So are you going to clue me in on what I’m doing here?” Elin Svendsen said as she paced the fancy hotel room.

“I told you,” Freddie said, keeping a tight rein on his libido as he watched her move back and forth. “It’s for your safety.”

“Are you
sure?
” Her teasing smile shot lust straight through him. He was glad he’d kept his trench coat on. “I’m starting to wonder if you made this whole thing up to get me alone in a hotel room.” She sashayed up to him so that her breasts were right at his eye level.

Desperate, he said, “One of John O’Connor’s ex-girlfriends was murdered.”

Elin gasped. “For real?”

“Would I lie about murder?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“I never lie about murder.”

“I don’t get it. He wasn’t married or anything.”

“Well, he sort of was.”

Elin spun around. “What do you mean?”

Freddie told her about the woman and child who’d been banished to the Midwest twenty years ago.

“So you think it’s her?”

“We suspect it could be, and we want to keep you safe until we find her.”

Elin crossed her arms in a protective gesture that tugged at his heart. “I can’t believe he had this whole other secret life.”

“Apparently, no one knew. Not even his closest friend.”

“I don’t sleep with married guys. I know you probably think I’m easy, but I do have morals.”

“I never suspected otherwise.”

She tilted her head to study him. “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

Freddie cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Thanks. I think.”

Smiling, she added, “We could make this little ‘protection mission’ of yours a whole lot more fun if you’re game.”

He swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

She bent over, her top sliding forward to reveal a tantalizing view of her spectacular breasts. A hint of the Cupid tattoo was visible over the top of her low-cut bra. “Sex, Detective,” she whispered. “Dirty, raunchy sex.”

Feeling as if he was being tested, Freddie shifted to relieve the growing pressure in his lap. “I’m on duty.”

“Who would know?”

“I would.”
Sam would know
.
Somehow, she’d find out,
and I’d be screwed in a whole other way
.

Shooting him an “are you for real?” look, Elin shrugged and reached for her bag. “I’m going to get changed.”

As soon as he heard the bathroom door close behind her, Freddie closed his eyes and counted to ten. God help him, but he wanted to grab her, toss her down on the bed and have his way with her. Reminding himself that he was
working
, he willed his throbbing erection into submission.

Elin emerged from the bathroom wearing a purple silk nightgown that just barely covered her shapely ass.

Freddie suppressed a groan as she passed by him, leaving a fragrant cloud in her wake.

“Are you
sure
you don’t want to have some fun?” she asked as she got settled in the other bed.

“Positive,” he said through gritted teeth.

She flipped off the light. “Your loss.”

Freddie fell back on the second bed and released a tortured deep breath. He was definitely being tested.

* * *

Nick grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa and spread it over them, arranging them so they lay facing each other. He traced a finger over Sam’s frown. “I don’t know what’s causing you such concern, but whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, Sam.”

She rested her hand on his chest.

Nick’s heart galloped under her touch as he waited for her to gather her thoughts.

“When I was with Peter,” she said tentatively, “we tried for a long time to have a baby. We were about to go for infertility treatment when I got pregnant.”

Imagining what she was going to say, Nick ached for her.

“I was so excited, even though Peter and I were already having a lot of problems. I know it was foolish to think a baby could fix it, but I still had hope then.”

His heart breaking, Nick wiped away a tear that spilled down her cheek.

“I miscarried at twelve weeks.”

“Sam...I’m so sorry.”

“It was a bad miscarriage. I lost a lot of blood, and it took me a really long time to bounce back. Peter was so devastated. He kind of retreated into himself.”

“So you went through it alone.”

She shrugged and sat up, moving out of his embrace. “I had my sisters, my family. Angela had Jack a short time later, and he saved me in so many ways. He’s my baby as much as he’s hers. She even says so.”

“He’s adorable.”

“He’s my little man.” She wiped her face with an impatient swipe, as if the tears were pissing her off. “A couple of months later, the doctor told me we could try again. Things with Peter had seriously disintegrated, but we both still wanted a baby so we made an effort to fix what was wrong even though I already knew it couldn’t really be fixed. For a while, though, things were better. A year after the miscarriage, I got pregnant again, but I didn’t know. It was an ectopic pregnancy. Do you know what that is?”