The Perfect Couple (38 page)

"Sounds like you've been involved with her for a long time."

He shot her a quick look. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"Aren't we friends?" she asked.

It was tough to think of her as a friend when he kept imagining her soft body pressed up against his, kept replaying that moment last night when she'd moaned his name. But what could he say? "If that's what you want to call it."

"I was hoping that two or three orgasms moved me out of the 'just another client' category, at least."

He grimaced. She was striking out, but he deserved it. "You're not just another client. You never were."

"Thank you." She gave a little bow. "And you're not just another P.I."

She laughed, but he didn't think her comment was funny. "Anyway," she went on, "if you're so heartbroken over Sheridan that it hurts to talk about her, I--"

"It doesn't hurt," he interrupted, irritated without really understanding why.

"Then what's the big deal? She knows. I know. We all know how you feel."

But it wasn't Sheridan on his mind. It was Zoe. The longer he went without touching her, the more he wanted to. And he knew his chances of making love to her again were diminishing by the second--if he'd had any to begin with, after this morning. "My relationship with Sheridan isn't important. She's married. We're coworkers. That's it."

"Have you ever made love to her?"

"Zoe--"

"It's okay, you can be honest. I wanted you so badly last night I probably would've done what I did despite Sheridan."

Did that mean she didn't want him anymore? Because repeating the experience was all he could think about.

"I'm equally to blame for what happened," she was saying. "And it's not as if I was expecting any sort of commitment." She raised her hands. "I don't know why I let it bother me."

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Although he wasn't willing to speculate on exactly why, he liked it better when it bothered her.

"I mean, it's not as if it was anything special," she said. "I'm sure you were thinking about Sheridan the whole time."

Now she'd gone too far. Stopping, he faced her. "If you're trying to let me know I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting in your pants again, consider me notified," he said and cut the walk short.

Zoe had made her point. Maybe she'd driven it home a little too hard, she thought as she took a hot shower. Still, Jonathan hadn't tried to touch her since their walk. It was safe to stay with him--for a night or two, anyway.

She couldn't impose on him any longer than that. She wouldn't be here tonight except that she couldn't deal with pacing the floor of some nondescript motel room, wearing a hole in the carpet as she hoped and prayed that Toby would recover fully--for his sake as well as Sam's.

Grabbing a towel as she stepped out, she dried off and donned the pajama bottoms he'd lent her and her own T-shirt. After she'd brushed her teeth and used a blow-dryer, she left the bathroom, expecting to find Jonathan at his computer. He spent a lot of time at the kitchen table, working. But he was lying on the couch with a remote in one hand, watching TV--and wearing a scowl.

"Anything good on?"

His eyes flicked her way, focused pointedly on her braless chest, then moved to her face. "Nothing better than that."

She covered her breasts with her hands to stop them from tingling.

"I'm sorry. Would you rather I wore something else?"

"If you'd rather I looked somewhere else," he said.

She thought about his response but ultimately shrugged. What she was wearing wasn't particularly revealing. Besides, it seemed a bit pointless to become modest after the fact. He'd already seen her breasts, touched them, kissed them. "It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."

One eyebrow slid up but he made no further comment. He turned back to the TV and didn't deign to notice her again. Until the program went to a commercial. Then she spoke up, which drew his attention. "Where did Sheridan meet her husband?"

"We're not talking about Sheridan!" he said, his words clipped.

She saw the hard set to his jaw and realized he was angry. She couldn't seem to maneuver them into a place where they could both feel comfortable. Sheridan was the only topic that seemed to diminish, at least to a small degree, the sexual tension between them. There were simply too 249

many erotic memories, too much desire.

Maybe she'd been wrong to think she could stay....

"I should leave," she said, standing.

"That isn't the problem."

"What is the problem?"

He got up and came close, his eyes riveted on hers, and the tingle she'd felt in her breasts went through her whole body. She told herself not to back away, although her instincts were screaming for her to do just that.

Retreating would only let him know that she was still affected by him.

Slowly, his palm cupped her breast over her shirt, gently teasing her nipple, and his mouth lowered to hers.

His kiss was a slow exploration, achingly sweet. Zoe told herself to pretend indifference, but she was sure he could feel the way her body responded to his touch. "What you do to me. That's the problem," he said and left her standing in the living room.

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Should she go to her bed? Or his?

Several minutes passed as Zoe deliberated.

He was in love with someone else.

But that person was married. Happily married.

She had no business taking this kind of risk. She wasn't herself these days, wasn't in control.

But would it really hurt to be with him while she had the chance?

Wouldn't there be plenty of time to be alone later?

Sitting on the edge of an old green ottoman, she waited for her body to settle down. Hormones must be clouding her judgment because earlier she'd had lots of reasons sleeping with Jonathan again wouldn't be a good idea.

Funny, she couldn't seem to think of any that mattered more than feeling his hands on her.

Maybe it would be okay, now that she was better informed. Maybe it could be casual. People had casual sex every day, didn't they?

Yes, they did. But she didn't. She'd been in a committed relationship with every single boyfriend. This was her first experience with wanting a man who didn't really care about her in return.

She'd just remind herself of that, she decided. During every minute in his bed, she'd silently chant, "He loves Sheridan...he loves Sheridan...he loves Sheridan." Then there'd be no way she could forget.

Jonathan could tell it was different this time. Mechanically everything went even more smoothly than before. Their bodies seemed to be made for each other. But whenever he said something flattering, something that would've made Zoe smile or hold him closer the first night, she'd either pretend she hadn't heard it, or she'd turn her face away as if she refused to believe it.

The only "improvement" was that she trusted him more in a physical sense. The familiarity they'd established made them both comfortable and confident. He loved that in their most recent encounter she was able to abandon herself to the pleasure he wanted to give her without resisting it. At one point, she'd even awakened him for more....

Jonathan?

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Hmm?

I want you.

Her hand had slipped down to caress him and some of the most passionate lovemaking he'd ever enjoyed had followed. And yet...when morning arrived, Jonathan was almost more frustrated than he'd been before.

He'd made love to Zoe three times since she'd overheard him talking to Sheridan, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to do it again and again--until she finally relented and...what?

Began to care. That was it. He hated that she was holding back. He'd accused her of being closed off, but she'd actually begun to feel a real connection. He was the one who'd blown it.

He told himself it was better that she knew about Sheridan, that it was more honest.

But was it really?

He angled his head to watch her sleep. Had he ruined what they'd shared on purpose--because she'd surprised him? Because she hadn't held him at arm's length as he'd expected her to? He'd had to put a stop to what was developing between them, didn't he? He'd felt the potential, the threat. It had been far more powerful than any encounter he'd experienced before, even more powerful than what he'd felt for Maria....

Shifting his attention to the alarm clock, he waited for the second hand to tick its way to seven o'clock. He didn't want to analyze his own feelings, but the questions he'd already asked forced another: Was Sheridan really standing between them? Or was it the hurt and disappointment he'd experienced with Maria? The fear of letting himself love again--and allowing those feelings to culminate in a serious relationship, with all the struggles and potential pitfalls that entailed? Had he set his sights on Sheridan simply because he'd known she was safe? That she'd always care about him but not in a way that would ever threaten his freedom? Was that why he'd never declared himself or tried to advance the relationship?

There had to be a reason. He hadn't really tried with Sheridan, or she wouldn't have needed Cain or anyone else to tell her how he felt. He'd been happy to remain friends indefinitely. Why?

Zoe stirred beside him. "We've got to get up." She'd mumbled as if trying to convince herself to open her eyes, and he understood why she might be reluctant. She was in bed with a man she'd known only a week.

And her daughter was still missing. Daylight put an end to the brief respite.

Scooping her into his arms, he buried his face in her neck. She stiffened slightly, as if having him be so affectionate without sexual intent took her by surprise--even put her on the defensive. He wasn't sure why he'd 252

done it. He'd acted on impulse. But it felt right. Almost as good as making love.

"Maybe today will be the day," he said.

"I hope so." She stopped fighting her natural inclination to curve into him. "I'm going to circulate the new flyers as much as possible, then maybe I'll go over to the hospital this morning. I--I know I should probably give Toby and his parents some space, but...I have to be there, rooting for him."

"I understand."

"What about you?"

"I'll be here for part of the morning. I have half a dozen people screaming for my attention, wondering why I've suddenly disappeared from their cases. And I need to make a few more calls to various cabin-rental companies."

"Detective Thomas said he's meeting with you this morning, too."

"And there's that. We plan to compare impressions of our various interviews."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

She clasped his face between her two hands. "No, I mean it. I--I don't know how I would've gotten through this so far without you."

As he gazed down at her, something passed between them, something he was hesitant to name or even acknowledge. But on his part it had a possessive quality, along with a strong desire to protect.

"We'd better get up." She moved as if she expected him to let her go that easily, but he caught her before she could go anywhere.

"What?" she said.

Too confused to put what he was feeling into words, he gave up trying to talk and kissed her. It started out as a gentle melding of their mouths. But when she parted her lips, gentle quickly turned into passionate. He slid his hand down her flat stomach to find the warm, wet softness he already craved. "Make love to me one more time," he murmured.

Then the phone rang.

With a sigh, he rolled onto his side. His heart was hammering too fast to answer immediately, but he knew he'd lost Zoe's interest--and he didn't blame her one bit.

"It could be good news," she said.

It could also be bad. The way she bit her bottom lip told him she knew that as well as he did.

Grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, he said hello even though he was still a little breathless.

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"Jon? Is it too early?"

Jasmine. "No. Did you get my package?"

"It just arrived."

He'd paid to have it delivered before ten, Louisiana time. "And..."

"And the energy around it is so strong I could feel Sam the second I took the teddy bear out of the box."

He sat up. "That's good...isn't it?"

"She's alive. I'm sure of it."

Zoe raised herself to lean against the headboard, holding the blankets to her chest. He sensed that she felt completely vulnerable. What little she had in the way of defenses, she'd reserved for him.

"Can you tell me any more?"

"When I close my eyes, I hear birds. Lots of birds. More than you'd notice in a city. I think she's outside somewhere. Maybe in a forest. It's cool, dank, even dark."

"Right now? In the daylight?"

"She's inside something. That's what it feels like. Enclosed."

Listening to Jasmine work was fascinating. She spewed out the impressions as they hit her. But what Jonathan had heard so far didn't tell him much about where to find Sam. Sacramento sprawled at the base of the Sierra Nevada, which meant the foothills weren't far away. There were miles and miles of forest, all within easy driving distance. "Are there more noises?

Any scents?"

"Nothing."

"Keep trying, Jas."

"I'm afraid the only other detail I can relate is one you won't want to hear."

He swallowed hard. "What is it?"

"She's extremely weak. This girl needs help, Jon. And she needs it fast or--" She didn't finish. Jasmine's "gift" put her in touch with some very poignant emotions. He knew it was a sacrifice for her to get involved at all, but she was a strong woman who did anything she could to fight for victims of crime. She didn't shy away from her impressions just because they could be painful.

He glanced at Zoe.

"What is it?" Her voice was reedy.

"Jasmine believes that Sam is alive."

Her fingers clenched the blankets. "Thank God. But...where is she?

Can Jasmine help us find her?"

"She thinks Sam's in a forest somewhere."

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"A forest?" Tears streamed down Zoe's cheeks.