Charlie tried to halt the rapid beating of his heart as she stood next to the bed. After he pulled down the covers, she slid in and curled up on her side facing him.
He placed his gun on the nightstand, then self-consciously unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. It was silly to feel shy about undressing in front of her. She’d seen him naked more times than he could count, but that was before, in a different time under different circumstances.
Kicking off his shoes, he glanced at her to see that her eyes were closed. That made it easier for him to get out of his jeans. Normally he slept naked, but tonight he got beneath the sheet wearing his briefs, feeling as if he needed a barrier between them, even if it was just thin cotton.
“’Night, Charlie,” she said softly, as he turned off the bedside lamp.
“Sleep tight, Grace,” he replied. He squeezed his eyes closed, willing sleep to come fast, but how could he sleep with the scent of her eddying in the air and her body heat radiating outward to him?
He tried to count sheep, but each one of them had silky blond hair and a killer body beneath a white T-shirt. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, either. He could tell by her uneven breathing that she was still awake.
They remained side by side, not touching in any way for several agonizingly long minutes. He gasped in surprise as she reached out and laid a warm hand on his chest.
“Grace,” he said, her name nothing more than a strangled sigh that hissed out of him.
She scooted closer to him and trailed her fingers across the width of his upper body, tangling them in his tuft of chest hair. “What?” she whispered.
“You can’t lie here next to me and touch me like that and not know that you’re starting something.”
“Maybe I want to start something.” The words were a hot whisper against his neck. “I want you to hold me, Charlie. I want you to make love to me and take away the coldness inside me.”
There was nothing he wanted more, but he didn’t move. “You’ve had a scare, Grace. It’s only natural that you’d reach out to somebody, but I don’t want you to do something tonight that you’ll regret in the morning.”
Once again her hand swept across his chest and he held his breath. “As long as you understand that it isn’t the beginning of anything, that it’s just sex, then I won’t regret anything in the morning,” she replied.
Jeez, how many men would have loved to hear from a woman that it was just about sex and nothing else? Still he hesitated. He didn’t want to give her another reason to hate him. He told himself that one of them had to be strong.
She moved closer, molding herself against his side. “I know you still want me, Charlie. I’ve seen it in your eyes; I’ve felt it in your touch. I want you now. Not forever, but just for now.”
Even though he would have preferred now and forever, he wasn’t strong enough to stop himself from turning to her. Their lips met in an intense kiss that tasted of the sweet familiarity of past liaisons and of present fires.
Just that easily he was lost in her, in the taste of her, the scent of her and the heat of her body, so close to his. He cupped her face in his hands as the kiss continued, their tongues swirling together as their breaths quickened.
He pulled her into his arms, half across his body as his hands caressed her back and made their way to the bottom of the T-shirt.
He broke the kiss and plucked at the shirt. “Take it off. I want to feel your body next to mine.”
She sat up and in one smooth movement pulled the shirt up and over her head. She tossed it to the floor at the end of the bed, then went into his arms once again.
Her soft, supple skin was hot against his, and he cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving over her hard nipples. The tiny gasp she emitted only served to ratchet up his desire.
He wanted her moaning like she once had beneath him, making those mewling noises that had always driven him wild.
She rolled over on her back, and he took one of her nipples into his mouth as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He teased first one, then the other nipple, sucking then flicking his tongue to give her the most pleasure.
“Charlie,” she moaned, his name a sweet plea on her lips.
His hand moved down her flat stomach and lingered at the waist of her panties. Touching her was sheer pleasure, the smoothness of her skin making his blood thicken as he grew hard.
“Take them off,” she said, and lifted her buttocks from the bed so he could pull the panties down and off. With her naked, he quickly took off his briefs. Then they came together—hot flesh and hotter kisses.
Although he was hungry for her, he wanted to take his time. He wanted it slow. He wanted to pretend that they had never stopped being lovers, that there was nothing bad between them.
He re-memorized the sweet curves of her hips, the silky length of her legs. His lips found all the places he knew would stoke her pleasure higher, and the taste of her drove him half mindless.
Grace had always been an active participant in lovemaking, and this time was no different. Her mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere—behind his ear, on his chest above his crashing heartbeat, along his inner thigh.
Knowing that if he allowed her to continue with her caresses, it was going to be over before it began, Charlie pushed her onto her back once again, and his fingers found her damp heat.
She arched her hips to meet his touch as she whimpered his name. Every muscle in her body tensed, and he knew she was almost there, almost over the edge. He quickened his touch and felt the moment when her climax crashed down on her. She froze and then seemed to melt as she cried his name over and over again.
Knowing he was about to lose control, he quickly disengaged from her and fumbled in his nightstand for a condom. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he pulled on the protection and then eased into her with a hiss of pleasure.
He froze, afraid that the slightest movement would end it all. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, dappling her face with enough light that he could see the bright shine of her eyes, a pulse beating madly in the side of her neck.
She closed her eyes, and he felt her tighten her muscles around him, creating exquisite pleasure for him. Her fingers dug into his lower back, and he slowly eased his hips back, then stroked deep into her.
The rush of feelings that filled him was overwhelming, not just the physical ones, but the emotional ones as well. She was hot, sexy and felt like home. She scared him more than any potential killer they might face.
He had confidence that he could keep her safe and sound from any threat, but he didn’t know how to make her forgive him. He wanted her to be his woman forever, but she’d made it clear she was his just for now.
He’d had his chance with her and blown it. Now his job was to fix her life so that she could once again move on without him.
Grace woke up with the light of dawn drifting through the window and Charlie spooned around her back. She remained still, relishing the feeling of safety his arms provided, the warmth of his body against her.
Making love with him had been as magical last night as it had been eighteen months ago when they’d been an item. Charlie was a passionate man, a thoughtful lover who never took his own pleasure before giving pleasure to her. Her body still glowed warm with the residual aftermath of the night of love.
Had last night been a mistake? Definitely.
If she allowed herself, she could be as in love with Charlie as she had been before, but she wouldn’t allow it. There was still a simmering rage inside her where he was concerned, a place where forgiveness could find no purchase.
She slid out of bed, wanting to get up before he awakened. She knew how much Charlie loved morning sex, and although there was a part of her that would have welcomed another bout of lovemaking with him, she didn’t want to be available for compounding her mistake.
The last thing she needed to do was think about Charlie and her confusing feelings for him. What she needed to do was figure out why somebody would want her dead.
She used the shower in the guest room, hoping to let Charlie rest for as long as he could. She’d fallen asleep before him the night before and had no idea when he’d finally drifted off.
Charlie was mistaken. Nothing seemed clearer in the light of day, she thought, as she stood beneath a hot stream of water. William was still dead. Somebody was gunning for her and Hope was facing life in prison. No amount of morning sun could put a happy spin on things.
When she was dressed, she went into the kitchen, surprised to find Charlie making coffee. Apparently he’d been in the shower at the same time as her. His hair was damp, and he smelled of minty soap and that cologne that had always driven her half wild.
“Good morning,” he said, and gave her a tentative glance.
“Don’t worry, there aren’t going to be any repercussions from last night,” she assured him, as she sat at the table.
“That’s good. I was worried that you’d accuse me of taking advantage of you,” he replied, pouring them each a cup of the fresh brew.
“I think I was definitely the one taking advantage last night,” she replied dryly.
He set the mugs on the table then took the seat across from her. “Grace, we need to talk. We need to talk about us.”
She held up a hand and shook her head. “Please, Charlie, don’t.” She steeled her heart against him, against the flash of vulnerability she saw in his eyes. “There’s so much going on in my life right now. I can’t think about anything else except getting Hope out of that horrible place and trying to figure out why somebody tried to shoot me last night.”
He held her gaze for a long minute and then nodded reluctantly. “Okay, we won’t do it now,” he agreed, but there was a subtle warning in his words that let her know this wasn’t finished—they weren’t finished.
But they were, she thought, and the old, familiar anger rose up inside her. His betrayal hurt just like her mother’s had, and she’d never forgive her mother nor was she ever likely to forgive him. She’d be a fool to trust him with her heart again, and Grace wasn’t anybody’s fool.
“You need to decide if you want to stay here with me or if you want me to stay at your place with you,” he said. “There’s no way I want you staying anywhere all alone right now.”
She wanted to protest the plan, but she knew she couldn’t return to her life as if nothing had happened. She frowned thoughtfully. “I’d really prefer to stay at my own place, but don’t you need to be here at the ranch?”
“I’ve got a good foreman who can see to things,” he replied.
Wrapping her fingers around her mug, she frowned again. “I hate the idea of taking you away from your life here.”
He smiled, the gesture warming the gray of his eyes. “You bought my services as a bodyguard for a dollar. Until this thing is resolved, wherever you go, I go. If you want to stay at your place, then all I need to do is pack a bag.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it,” she said. Maybe her world would feel more normal if she were home among her familiar things. “I’d like to go back to the house today.” She took a sip of her coffee and then continued. “We should talk to Lana and Leroy again. Maybe they will have remembered something helpful.”
“I think they would have called if that was the case,” he said. “But, if you want to touch base with them, we can do that. Have you thought about what you intend to do with the house and the property?”
“No. I suppose eventually I’ll sell. I’ll never live in the house, and I don’t want it sitting empty forever.” Grief for William pierced through her. He’d loved that house so much.
“The real estate market isn’t great right now, but I imagine a home like that will move fairly quickly.”
“I need to give Lana and Leroy a heads-up that at some point they’ll need to find another place to live. At least with the money William left to Lana I know they won’t be out on the street.” She sipped her coffee, thinking about everything that needed to be done to settle William’s estate.
Somebody tried to kill you yesterday. The words jumped unbidden into her head. She took another sip of her coffee and tried to think of a single person she’d upset or offended.
“This can’t be personal,” she said aloud.
“What?” Charlie looked at her in confusion.
“Whoever is trying to kill me. It has to be about something other than dislike or anger at me personally. I know it sounds conceited, but I can’t think of anyone who could hate me. I run a dress shop, for God’s sake. I’ve never had a problem with anyone in town.”
“We have a missing mother, a dead stepfather, a sister who we believe has been set up to spend the rest of her life in prison, and somebody trying to kill you. It’s like somebody is trying to erase the entire Covington family.”
“Surely you don’t think my mother’s disappearance has anything to do with what’s happening now,” she said.
He sipped his coffee, a new frown creasing his forehead. “I don’t know. Last night I did a quick search on the computer for your mother but got no results.” He swept a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I keep working everything around in my head trying to make sense of it, but I can’t get a handle on it. Do you have a will?”
“No, I haven’t gotten around to making one yet.”
“So, if something happened to you, everything you own would go to Hope as your sole living relative?”
“I guess.” She narrowed her eyes. “Charlie, I don’t care how bad this looks, Hope wouldn’t do this. Please, don’t lose faith in her innocence.”
“I’m just looking at all the angles,” he said, and took another drink of his coffee. “Why don’t we eat some breakfast and head to your place? I’ll stow my stuff there, and then we can head over to the mansion to see what we can find.”
It was after nine when they left the ranch to go to Grace’s house. Charlie had a small suitcase in the backseat and his automatic pistol in a holster beneath his jacket.
The knowledge that he was carrying a gun to protect her sent a new rivulet of disquiet through her. The shooting the night before and the attack at the store had had a dreamlike quality to them, but his gun made them terrifyingly real.
“I really appreciate you staying at my place,” she said, as they drove down Main Street toward her street. “I have a nice guest room where I hope you’ll be comfortable.” She wanted to make it clear there would be no repeat of last night, that she had no intention of him sleeping next to her in her bed.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he replied. “You need to stop by the store for anything?”
“No. Dana will have things well under control. She should have a shop of her own. She has all the skills to run her own business.”
“You’ve certainly made a success of it,” he observed.
She frowned. “I suppose.” Yes, she had made a success of her shop, but at what price? Certainly in the last two years she’d kept too busy to nurture her relationship with her sister. A hollow wind blew through her as she thought of the choices she’d made.
She had plenty of friendly customers, but few friends, and when she’d needed somebody to hold her close, to take away her fear, there had been nobody except the man she’d once dated, a man who had broken her heart. Yeah, right, some success she’d made of her life.
The wind coming in from the broken window felt good on her face. Charlie had cleaned up the glass before they’d gotten into the car. The plan was for him to hire someone to come out to Grace’s house to replace the window. They’d use her car for the remainder of the day.
When they reached her place, Charlie pulled up in the driveway and cut the engine. “I’ll come around for you,” he said, pulling his gun from his holster. “We’ll walk together to the front door with you just in front of me. I don’t want a repeat of last night.”
As he got out of the car, the reality of the situation slammed into her. Somebody had tried to kill her last night. Somebody had tried to put a bullet in her head.
She gazed around her yard and the house, looking for a shadow, a movement that would indicate somebody lying in wait for them. A new knot of tension twisted in the pit of her stomach.
He opened her door and pulled her out and against his chest. They walked awkwardly toward her front door, with him acting as a human shield against danger.
Grace didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she unlocked the door and stepped into the entry hall. It was only then that she breathed again.
“Stay right here and don’t move,” Charlie said. “I want to check out the house.” He kept the front door open. “If somebody is in here, I’ll let you know and want you to run to the car and drive to the sheriff’s office.” He handed her the car keys, then disappeared into the living room.
Grace’s heart beat frantically with fight-or-flight adrenaline as she held the keys firmly in hand and waited for him to return. What if somebody was here—lying in wait for them? What if that somebody bashed Charlie over the head or shot him?
Once again her breath caught in her chest as she stood rigid with taut muscles—waiting…hoping that there was nobody inside.
Finally he came back, his gun back where it belonged. “It’s okay,” he said. A devilish gleam lit his eyes. “The purple bedroom is hot.”
She laughed as the edge of tension faded. “The purple bedroom is mine. You get the one across from it. Why don’t you put your things in there? I’m going to change my clothes before we leave again.”
“I’ll just go get my suitcase from the car,” he said. As he went out the front door, Grace walked down the hallway to her bedroom.
She’d always loved the color purple in all its glorious shades. When she’d moved into the house, she’d decided to indulge herself by painting the walls of her bedroom lilac and finding a royal purple satin spread for the bed. The end result gave the aura of both relaxation and hedonistic pleasure.
Her dresser top held framed photos along with an array of perfume bottles and lotion. She walked over to the dresser and looked at the pictures. There was one of Hope in a pair of footed Christmas pajamas, her face lit with a beautiful smile.
There was also one of William, Hope and Grace. It had been taken six months after her mother’s disappearance. The three of them had been at a carnival, and although they all sported smiles on their faces, the smiles didn’t quite reach their eyes.
She turned away from the bureau and unbuttoned her blouse, then walked to her closet. Maybe today they’d find something at the house that would exonerate Hope. Even though logically she knew that Zack and his men would have gone over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb, she still clung to the belief that somehow she and Charlie would find something that the authorities had missed.
She leaned against the doorjamb for a long moment, staring at the clothes inside the closet. Grace was exhausted even though she’d slept soundly after making love with Charlie. It wasn’t physical fatigue but rather a mental one.
She grabbed a short-sleeved blue blouse from a hanger, then turned around. A scream welled up inside her and exploded out as she saw a face at her window.