Page 47 of Blood Moon

“Have breakfast.” She checked her wristwatch. “If they’re still serving.”

He gave her a look that said,Very funny. “Are you flying out this afternoon?”

“Should I?”

“Yes, damn it. Barker’s got to be convinced that you lost interest or that Brady came down hard on you and drew a line in the sand. Whatever he thinks, I’m afraid you won’t be safe until you’re away from here. ”

“Possibly. But if something terrible befalls me, it won’t be your problem, as you so eloquently phrased it last night.”

“Bloody hell,” he said under his breath. Then, “Something else I said, maybe with less eloquence, was thatI can’t help you. I won’t.”

She studied his features, the rigid jaw and shuttered eyes, and contrasted them to the smiling face in the picture on his nightstand. “Who’s the girl in the picture?”

For an instant, the diamond-hard eyes flicked. But he recovered quickly. “What picture?”

“Really, John? You’re going to pretend you don’t know?The only picture in that fishing camp that was taken within the last decade.”

“You went snooping?”

“Yes.”

He turned his head aside and watched raindrops turn into rivulets that slid down the windshield. “My daughter.”

Beth had assumed so. “When was it taken?”

“Within the last decade.”

She disregarded the droll comeback. “Her mother got custody?”

He gave her a sharp look, but it didn’t express anger. He stared at her with total detachment and a silent command to back off. She would have preferred it if he’d lost his temper.

“It’s none of my business,” she said. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

He went back to staring through the windshield. For the longest time he didn’t say anything. She vacillated between opening the car door or staying to see what he would say or do until he ordered her out.

She was reaching for the handle again when he made an amused sound. He turned and gave her a crooked smile that had more sadness behind it than humor. “Beth, since I met you, all you’ve done is open old wounds. Even so,” he said around a weighty exhale, “if I don’t do this, I’ll regret it forever.”

Taking her completely off guard, he leaned across the console, curved his right hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him. Beneath the inviting heat of his lips, hers seemed to melt. They became pliant against the undemanding pressure he applied and parted at the first brush of his tongue.

Her mouth yielded to its first tentative and seeking thrusts. Met with no resistance, it became bolder and then, when he tilted his head for a more secure fit, his tongue went deep, and its give-and-take became skillfully evocative.

He placed his left hand on her rib cage between her waist and the underside of her breast, his fingers pressing, lightly squeezing. She wished the lining of her jacket weren’t so thick. Better yet, that she wasn’t wearing a jacket. Or wearing anything. She wished to feel his hand caressing her bare skin, her breast.

His withdrawal was gradual but unquestionable. When she realized he was ending the kiss, she actually leaned forward in an effort to sustain it, but he was already beyond reach.

He resettled himself in the driver’s seat. “Make sure you’re on that flight.” He held her gaze for a beat, then got out of the car, went around, and retrieved her suitcase from the back seat.

Her cheeks, which moments ago had been aflame with arousal, were now burning with humiliation. By the time he pulled open the passenger door, she had collected herself enough to take the handle of her roll-aboard from him.

“Goodbye, John. Take care of yourself.” Mutt whined at her from behind the back seat window. “You, too, Mutt.”

Then she turned away and walked toward the hotel entrance. After the automatic doors had closed behind her, she turned to get one last look.

But he was already driving away.

Chapter 13

When John and the ogre rounded a blind corner at the same time, they came to within an inch of running smack into each other.