Guarded (23 page)

“Want to go to sleep?” she asked, wide awake and seriously hoping for another round.

Dev nudged his hips against her backside and nibbled her neck. “Nah, I was thinking about taking some of that wine we have left and licking it off your body. Then making you come three or four more times before we fall asleep at dawn.” He slipped a hand between her thighs and began to stroke her. He whispered into her ear, “I want you to come with me. All. Night. Long.”

*   *   *

T
HE SKY WAS
lightening. Shelley lay motionless in Dev’s bed listening to the sounds of dawn. Seabirds sang to the sunrise. Waves crashed. Dev snored softly; each breath puffed warm air against her bare shoulder.

She’d been lying there for twenty minutes, basking in the afterglow of the night’s lovemaking.

Last night with Dev had been fun. Okay, she was lying to herself. It hadn’t just been fun. It was better than any fantasy she’d ever had. Would ever have.

But it couldn’t last. She had a life in Elkridge, and Dev had one in Tidewater.

A sliver of unease pricked at her. She shouldn’t stay here. It would be too easy for her to take this one night of amazing sex and want to make it something more.

She couldn’t do that.

She wouldn’t allow herself to want it. If she did, it would only end in disaster.

A
DAM COULDN’T HAVE
planned this better if he had tried. Sipping his coffee at the café, he pretended to be engrossed in whatever the stupid bitch was saying. She always found her own company more enjoyable than he did. But he needed her with him this morning. He didn’t trust her not to fuck up his plans again, especially since she’d just told him that she’d been the one to reset the video in the tiger cage.

Ignoring her, he watched through the large picture window at the three men arguing across the street. Dr. Morgan had parked the piece-of-shit car she owned at the very edge of the zoo parking lot two days ago. Around him, people chattered like geese. Loud, obnoxious noises that meant they had little more to do with their lives than follow whatever pattern the current leader dictated. And today, he was their leader. Too bad only he knew it.

Any second now they’d pop that trunk. It wouldn’t take much. He’d barely closed it. Not bothering to latch the bungee cords, but letting them dangle. He’d hoped that nosy bitch would find the body. This was so much better. The winch creaked and whined as it lowered the hook. The old man in the Marines ball cap attached the winch to the front of her car while the two younger men piled into the front of the truck. The creaking started again.

The trunk lid flew open.

So did the old Marine’s eyes. Arms flailed over his head as he gestured for the tow-truck driver to cut the engine. The two younger ones hopped out and ran to the back to see what happened.

“What’s going on over there?” she asked, craning her neck for a better view. Whatever topic she’d been rambling on about was instantly forgotten. Her gaze focused entirely on the events unfolding in the parking lot. “Hey, isn’t that Dr. Morgan’s car?”

“Looks like.” He mimicked her gawking stare. Sure enough, the geese-like patrons of the diner followed suit, watching through the window.

His pulse raced through him, sizzling in his veins like the coffee had sizzled in his throat. The rush was extraordinary. He hadn’t felt that before. When he’d killed the others, there had been relief, joy, even a sense of pride.

But this man
hadn’t
been on his list. The fool had gotten in the way.

Adam’s entire body thrummed with excitement as he watched. His heart tripped in his chest like a jackhammer.

He might just have to change his plans and be there when the final body was discovered. Until now, he’d never expected to surpass the high he felt when executing those sadistic bastards who’d let his mother die. And he still had the main one to punish.

Hal, the restaurant owner, clearly tired of waiting, pushed open the door and yelled, “Whatcha got there, Kenny?”

The old man cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled back, “Better call the sheriff. Someone’s killed Tomás.”

*   *   *

S
HELLEY AWOKE TO
the incessant ringing of her cell phone. Bleary-eyed because she’d hardly slept after sneaking out of Dev’s room at almost five in the morning, she tried to focus. Slapping her hand on the nightstand, her fingers collided with the noisemaker. She dragged it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Dr. M? Did I wake you?” Jacob’s too-cheerful voice called into the phone. “It’s like eight thirty. Aren’t you normally on your morning run by now?”

“Jacob, you’re the one who likes morning runs, not me. I don’t run. Is-Is there something you need, besides checking my daily schedule?” She tried not to grouse into the phone, but it was hard. Man, she needed about five more hours of sleep.

Jacob laughed as if he’d just heard the funniest joke. Ever. “Yes. Say, ‘Thank you, Jacob. You’re my hero.’”

“Why would I thank you for waking me up?”

“You wouldn’t.” He snorted. “But you would thank me for making sure you still have a job.”

Shelley sat straight up in bed, suddenly wide awake. “What have you done?”

“I got you your job back. Dr. Kessler just called to remind me that I was handling your workload today because—and I quote—she’s on vacation.” He paused then added, “Now what do we say?”

“Jacob! I told you not to do that.” Shelley stifled the urge to scream. “I can’t come back to the clinic like this. Dr. Kessler might be suffering from dementia, but I won’t take advantage.”

“I did it for you.” Jacob’s tone was terse and angry.

“I know,” Shelley said and sighed. “I appreciate your help. I do. Look, when I get back to the clinic, we’ll sit down and talk. Figure out something.”

Jacob was so silent on the other end of the line, Shelley might have thought he’d hung up, except for the noises in the background. A lone dog barked two quick yips—Mr. Montgomery’s Pomeranian, most likely. Another dog howled in reply, then a series of
whoop, whoop, whoop
s.

She frowned. “Is that Beau’s guinea pig in the background?”

“Seriously? I tell you I just pulled off the most amazing feat ever of getting you your job back and you ask me about a rodent?”

“Jacob, I do appreciate your help. It was very thoughtful of you.”
And unethical.
But she didn’t say that part. She needed his help, the kind she could actually accept. “It’s just . . . I need you to tell me if that’s Beau’s pet I hear.”

“Yes, Dr. Dolittle, it’s Mr. Fuzzbutt. I’m in your office refilling his water bottle. You said to leave him here until the kid comes back, right? I assumed you wanted me to keep it fed and watered.”

“Yes, I did. Didn’t Beau come in yesterday? Or maybe Tomás?”

“No,” he replied drawing out the word. “You want me to give the rodent to the zoo?”

“Oh, no. Beau is uh . . .” She didn’t know if Tomás wanted her to talk about his family situation. Deciding to keep it to herself, she said, “Tomás was going to sit for the guinea pig for a few days. I just thought he or Beau would have been in to pick him up by now.”

The background noises changed and Jacob groaned. “Ah, man! One of the cats escaped and is freaking out the dogs. I gotta go.”

He hung up.

Shelley dropped her phone onto the bedside table again and glanced at the sunlight peering between the curtains. Below the window, Lucy stretched, then sat staring expectantly.

“Good morning, girl,” Shelley said, unlatching the cage. She lifted Lucy into the air until they made eye contact. “Stay in here. No sneaking out of the room. I’ll get you some breakfast and fresh water.”

The image of Lucy doing the weasel war dance flew into Shelley’s mind.
Agreed
. Lucy, clearly happy to be out of her carrier, was content to stay put.

In no time she’d fed and watered Lucy, cleaned her carrier, taken a shower, and dressed. Throwing the curtains wide, sunlight poured into the bedroom. Waves crashed on the beach below. The blue, cloudless sky seemed to beckon her outside.

Lucy, who’d already returned to her hammock, was snoozing. Locking the cage, Shelley ventured out of the room and down the stairs.

Dev sat, his sock-covered feet propped up on a coffee table in the living room. A partially empty Kiss the Cop coffee mug on the end table. The television, tuned to a news station with a red ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen, was on mute in the middle of a large entertainment center.

Dev’s head was back, his eyes were closed, and two manila case files were facedown on his T-shirt-clad chest. Sunlight streaming through the sliding glass doors threw a spotlight on him, making even his hideous camo cargo pants charming.

His golden hair was almost white; his beautiful light mocha skin glowed with health. Even his long, dark lashes shone in the sunshine. In quiet near repose, Dev could have been an angel.

Everything about the man was breathtaking. His biceps bulged against his white T-shirt making her hot. She pictured herself pushing those files aside, straddling his lap, and waking him with kisses. Well, kisses for a start. She’d love to rip that shirt off him and explore all of his delicious muscles with her tongue and teeth.

Whew, when did it get hot in here?

Since when did arms turn her on?

Space. She needed to go for a walk. Clear her head. Or she might just cave in to her desire. Although, why shouldn’t she enjoy another healthy round of sex with this man? Except he was asleep, but that could be remedied.

Had she played her cards right, she could have awakened this morning to intimate caresses and perhaps another lovemaking session instead of Jacob’s phone call.

But all through dinner and the ride home, Shelley had kept thinking about Jules’s explanation of auras. Something about auras. That Jules only saw Seth’s. Then she’d asked Shelley if she’d seen anyone else’s. A shiver went down her spine, even as something bloomed in her chest.

It wasn’t the fear that had made her pull back and retreat to the guest room alone last night. No, it had been the warmth. That sensation of belonging. Even seeing Dev in the bright light of morning still haunted her.

Dev yawned and blinked open his eyes. “Good morning,” he said, his voice rough with sleep. He plucked the files from his chest, closed them, and stacked them on his coffee table. “What time is it?”

“About nine.” She stepped back from the couch because she could see he was really awake.

All. Of. Him.

Dev shifted to hide his “oh my there is a sex god” erection, but Shelley would have to have been blind to miss it. And it made her hotter than she’d been before.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his stormy gaze smoldering.

Not if you keep looking at me like that.

“Yeah. I, uh . . . I wanted to take a walk on the beach.” There, she’d gotten the words out and managed not to sound like a complete imbecile.

Dev stretched his arms wide and rolled his shoulders. “Give me five and I’ll join you. I wasn’t sure how light of a sleeper you were, so I didn’t want to go out and risk waking you.”

Her heart melted just a little at his thoughtfulness. “Oh.”

Brilliant conversationalist, Shelley.

Dev pushed to his feet, and she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze swung to his waist, where his tent had been. And to her surprise, the flagging erection grew.

“Or we can skip the walk,” Dev suggested.

“Yeah?” she said, when what she really wanted to do was scream, “You got it. Now get naked so I can see how many ways I can make you come.”

Dev sauntered toward her. Shelley backed up from where she’d been standing beside the couch to give him room to move. And possibly throw her onto it. But this was Dev. He didn’t do anything in a hurry.

He lowered his mouth, passing her lips and went straight for the pulse point on her neck. Gently, lazily, he suckled it. Goose bumps erupted all over her whole body. Liquid heat pooled low in her core.

She reached for him only to have Dev encircle her wrists with his hands. “Shhh . . . slow down, darlin’. Let me taste you.”

He trailed feather-light kisses up her chin. Brushed the corners of her mouth. Teased her lips with his tongue, but still held himself back, whispering, “I’ve wanted you forever. I don’t want to rush through. I want it to last.”

A shiver went down her spine. But instead of him continuing to kiss her, he pointed to the television.

“Holy shit, is that
your
car?”

Shelley turned. Dev gaped at the television. A pretty blond reporter in a royal blue suit stood in front of the Elkridge Zoo. The camera panned to Kenny’s tow truck hitched to her Blue Bomber. But the car wasn’t being towed. In fact, it looked like a small crowd had gathered.

Shelley reached for the remote at the same time as Dev. They knocked heads. She hissed in pain as lights burst before her watery eyes.

“I got it,” Dev said, unmuting the television.

“For those just joining us, I’m Christie Michaels live at the Elkridge Zoo where a body has just been discovered in the trunk of a car. The body was found by this man, Kenny Parran, owner of Ken’s Hunting and Towing. Kenny, can you tell me what you saw?”

The camera panned to Kenny. Deep purple bruises beneath both eyes indicated he hadn’t had much sleep. In his customary jean overalls, faded red T-shirt, and Marines ball cap, he gulped at the camera much like a fish out of water. When it became clear to the reporter that he wasn’t going to talk, she spoke again. “Right now, the local sheriff’s office is keeping quiet about the list of possible suspects. No names of either the victim or suspects have been released. But when they are, we’ll update you. This is Christie Michaels with Channel Nine News, live in Elkridge, Virginia.”

The image changed to a commercial about diapers. Dev muted the television.

Shelley was too stunned to do more than glance down. There, on Dev’s couch was a file labeled Colbert Rush. A picture of a severed hand with a bite mark had fallen out. There was something familiar about the name and the bite mark, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Dev pulled out his cell phone, began to tap the keys, and opened the balcony door.

“What are you doing?” she asked, too numb to feel anything except slight curiosity.

“Calling for backup,” he said, stepping outside. He’d barely finished one text when he tapped out another. Just before closing the door he added, “My cousins, Ryan and Ian, own Tidewater Security Specialists. They specialize in difficult cases. If it comes down to it, I might be limited by the law, but they aren’t.”