Murphy managed to hold back a cringe through sheer force of will. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? Even his father, who’d been a career Army Ranger, had never sounded so damned authoritarian, barking orders at people like they were his servants or something.

He clenched his jaw and scowled down into his coffee mug. The morning had started so promising too. Memories of their night together had made for extremely pleasant dreams and he’d hoped to continue his explorations of Shayma’s delectable body, maybe take her out to eat, then come back here to the apartment and cuddle on the sofa while he continued to search for the mysterious senator who now seemed like his best lead on his missing sister’s case.

Then, of course, he’d woken up alone and Shayma had just now blown him off with her “it’s just a fling” spiel. In the back of his mind, he had to wonder if the sinking knot of tension in his gut was how all the women in his past had felt when he’d basically told them the same thing.

Fuck.

With a snort, he shook his head. This was so stupid. He was so stupid. What did he care if Shayma said this was only a one-night stand? He should be frigging overjoyed. One less thing he had to worry about. After all, that’s exactly what he’d wanted, right?

He squeezed his mug tighter. Then why the hell did if feel like someone had sucker punched him in the nuts?

Murphy shifted on his stool and looked up as Shayma slid a plate of food in front of him. Her smile was a tad less sunny and a whole lot frostier now than it had been earlier. And he couldn’t blame her. He was acting like a Grade A dick, all because he’d broken his cardinal rule. The one piece of advice his father had given that was actually worth something. Never trust a woman.

Sure, he’d never intended to trust Shayma, had never intended a lot of things where she was concerned, but here he was—staring down at a plate of homemade pancakes shaped like tiny Christmas trees and feeling like a total schmuck.

Somewhere between the nail salon yesterday and this awkward-as-ass encounter this morning, he’d gone and allowed her into his heart, allowed her into his confidence. Exactly when or where, he wasn’t sure, but it probably had something to do with how she’d made him feel when he’d been sunk so deep inside her that he never wanted to let her go.

And that was awful. The absolute worst thing he could’ve done. Because he had a case to solve, his beloved sister to find, and a life to get on with. He’d gotten yet another text from his CO on his phone this morning, reminding him of his impending decision to re-up for another stint in the SEALs. The deadline loomed large over him now, as did his recent shitty behavior toward Shayma.

She slid onto the stool beside him and placed her napkin on her lap, not once looking at him as she ate. Even with the ill-fitting jeans and sweatshirt that all but swallowed her whole, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—all smooth, rosy cheeks and raven black hair. His fingertips itched to touch her again, but he grabbed his fork instead and shoved food into his mouth without tasting it.

They chewed in silence for several minutes, each second that ticked by making the apology he owed her stick that much worse in his throat. He couldn’t tell her the real reason for his abominable rudeness this morning, but he could hopefully at least get them back on more amicable ground.

He swallowed a bite of sweet, maple-syrup coated pancake, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

The only sign she gave that she’d heard him was a slight hesitation in the movement of her fork to her mouth. A tiny crumb clung to one side of her full, pink lips and he had the insane urge to lean over and lick it off. Instead, he sat like a lump on his stool and continued to inhale the food she’d made for him without much pleasure. Not that it wasn’t delicious. It was. There just seemed to be a light out in his universe since the moment she’d basically told him he was nothing but her boy-toy, an evening of wicked fun to be left behind the next day.

And honestly, how could he blame her? She was almost frigging royalty, like Daveed. Hell, her dad would probably start an international incident if Shayma brought a guy like him home to meet them. He came from simple folk, hard-working people. His dad had always called them “salt of the earth,” which in Murphy’s mind had always equated to lower middle class—not white trash, but hardly Rockefellers either. After his mom left, of course, that didn’t improve their family image. Two kids being raised by a single dad wasn’t exactly the norm and his dad never did date again either. Said he never wanted to go through the heartbreak he had when Murphy’s mom disappeared. Another lesson young Murph had learned from his dear old dad: steer clear of relationships.

Which was why this whole thing with Shayma made no sense at all.

He should be thrilled she wanted no strings attached. Except he… wasn’t.

As if reading his thoughts, Shayma finally glanced over at him, her expression bland as a fresh fallen snow drift. “Tell me about her.”

“Who?” Murphy frowned.

“Your mother.”

And there was sucker punch number two. He never discussed his mom with anyone. Let alone the woman who’d rocked his world in more ways than one last night. He should get up and get to work. He should walk out of the apartment and not come back until she’d gone back to her fancy suite at the Plaza Hotel. But he stayed where he was and shoved his plate away, words tumbling out before he even realized he was speaking.

“I don’t remember a lot about her now, to be honest.” He shrugged. “She walked out when I was only six. My dad got rid of most of her pictures, so I can’t really even recall what she looked like back then. Brown hair, I think, short, usually serious. Never remember her laughing. My dad though? He had a great laugh—deep and loud and contagious. If he was laughing, I dare you to try and not join in.”

“He sounds fun.”

“He was. He died ten years ago of lung cancer. Life-long smoker.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

One side of Shayma’s mouth tipped downward and she swiveled to face him, her hands clasped in her lap. “That must’ve been hard for you, not having a mother growing up. And your poor sister.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy. My dad was gone a lot too, on missions for the Rangers, which left the two of us alone much of the time. Thankfully, some of the other ladies on the military base would stop by and bring us food and stuff when he was gone. I practically raised Aileen by myself. She turned out okay, I think.”

“That was very brave of you.” Shayma tilted her head to the side, her dark gaze narrowed. “And it explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About you, about why you make the choices you do.”

The collapsed walls around his heart sprang back up. “What’s wrong with my choices?”

She raised a dark brow at him. “You’re thirty-two and alone. I’d say that indicates some trust issues. Not without foundation, given your background, but—”

“Hang on a minute and put away that psychology degree of yours. I’m not some lab experiment for you to analyze, okay?” He pushed away from the breakfast bar and stalked over to the desk to boot up his sister’s laptop. It was only seven-thirty. EnKor didn’t open until nine, so he still had some time to figure out who this senator was. Besides, it gave him something to do besides answer all her uncomfortable questions. The fact she’d nailed his biggest issue without even trying set him on edge again. Was he that easy to read? Or were they just that in sync that she could read him so well?

Neither answer was comforting.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said from behind him, the sound of dishes being cleared away filling the air. “I just wondered why you seem so commitment phobic.”

He gave a derisive snort. “Says the woman who only wants a fling.”

Shayma glanced back at him over her shoulder as she stood at the sink. “That’s what you wanted too, isn’t it?”

“Of course.” He slumped down into his seat at the desk and scowled at the computer. “I’m surprised by you, that’s all. Figured you wouldn’t be the one-night-stand kind of gal.”

She bit her lip and he followed the movement with his gaze. What he wouldn’t give to be a set of teeth right about now. He shook off the crazy urge to stalk into the kitchen and pick her up. Set her on the breakfast bar and strip them both bare before taking her hard and fast and deep, fulfilling another one of the those forbidden fantasies of his where she was concerned.

He shifted to stare back at his computer screen while she washed and dried the breakfast dishes then put them away. In an effort to distract himself, he got back onto the US Congressional website and began searching the Senate members again and was able to narrow his search criteria to members of the Energy and Natural Resources Committee, where he figured the members with the most interest in EnKor might be found. From there, he read each senator’s bio and service history and found only three who served on both the Energy subcommittee and were present at the oversight hearing on Fostering Innovation: Using New Technologies to Lower Costs and Fuel Environmental Reinvigoration. One senator was a woman, so he could disregard her, since the receptionist had told Shayma it was a man she’d met. That left two men, both in their fifties, white, wealthy, ex-attorneys.

He printed off their pictures, then stood and grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall.

“Where are you going?” Shayma asked, coming out of the kitchen to block his path.

“Back to EnKor. I want to find out which of these senators is the one who visited.” He held up the photos for her before tucking them into his pocket. “Be back later. Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”

“Wait a minute.” She dogged his steps to the door. “You can’t just take off without me. We’re partners in this search for Aileen. And how far do you think you’d get showing up like that in the building? The guards won’t let you in.”

“I’m a Navy SEAL. I’d like to see them keep me out.” The fact she was right only annoyed him more. “I’ll get in, don’t worry.”

“How? By forcing your way in?” She crossed her arms. “I won’t bail you out of jail.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.” He flashed her a cold smile. “You made your feelings toward me quite clear earlier. I’m great for a fuck, not so much afterward. Loud and clear, darling.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything when it comes to you.” They’d stepped closer to each other, now toe-to-toe. “Why don’t you just say it? I’m not good enough to bring home to mommy and daddy.”

“And why don’t you pull your head out of your butt for a second and stop being such a rebel for once? Rules aren’t always put there to confine you, you know. Sometimes they’re there for protection. And it isn’t you my parents would object to at this point. It’s any man they didn’t hand select for me. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re funny and smart and kind and generous and loyal to a fault. You’d put your life on the line for those you love without any thought for your personal safety and sacrifice everything for a cause you considered just. Any woman would be lucky to have you in her life.”

A bit of the ice that had formed around his heart thawed at her words. That pretty pink color slowly crept up her cheeks again, letting him know she wasn’t as calm and collected as she pretended to be. And maybe, just maybe, she cared more about him than she was letting on. The thought had his blood running hot and his chest squeezing tight.

Murphy leaned closer to her, his gaze flickering to her parted lips before returning to her wary eyes, his slow grin widening. “I’m sorry too. Now how do you suggest we go about finding out which of these senators is the one who your receptionist friend met?”

Her full lips twitched into a small smile. “You need a disguise. Maybe a delivery man. They go everywhere and no one thinks twice about it. A pair of plain overalls and a baseball hat should do it. We’ll get you a clipboard too and make some fake signing forms so it looks official. I’ll seal up an empty box and you can deliver it to the EnKor offices. While you’re there, you can casually lay your clipboard with the photos attached down on the receptionist’s desk and bring her attention to it. Then, hopefully, she’ll mention meeting one of them.”

“Huh.” Murphy leaned back and nodded. “Not bad. There might be hope for you yet.”

Shayma swatted his arm and walked over to the computer. “You too. Now let’s see about renting you a uniform to turn you into a delivery man.”

* * *

An hour later they were at a uniform rental company about a half a block from Aileen’s apartment. After signing the forms and paying the fees, they ducked into the back room so Murphy could change.

While he slid the khaki slacks and shirt they’d rented, Shayma went through the bags from the office supply store and set up the clipboard with the sign-up sheets they’d printed and the senators’ photos. Then she taped together an empty box and scrawled an illegible address on the packing label so he’d have something to deliver to EnKor.

Once he was set, they headed back out into the snowy, overcast New York day and headed toward the EnKor offices about two blocks away. The bags slung over her arms held his regular clothes and a few extra office supplies, in case problems arose.

They paused outside the glass doors of the skyscraper and Shayma looked up at him. Even dressed in bland brown and with the brim of his baseball hat covering his hair and half his face, he was still the best-looking man she’d ever seen. She took a deep, steadying breath and forced a smile. “Ready?”

He gave a curt nod and headed inside while she waited thirty seconds before following. The plan was for him to get upstairs while she wandered around down in the atrium as if waiting for a bus or something to arrive. Without being too obvious, she kept an eye on Murphy as he stopped at the security desk, signed in on the visitor list they handed him, then rode the escalators up to the second floor where the energy company offices were located.

She hugged her coat tighter around her and stared out at the bustling crowds. The sun from earlier had disappeared behind frothing gray clouds that threatened more snow. With only a few days left until Christmas now, most people tolerated it good-naturedly, but it was still a pain trying to commute in it. Back home in Al Dar Nasrani, per the weather app on her phone, it was a balmy seventy-five degrees, sunny with a light breeze. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the gentle lap of the ocean waves against the white-sand shores and taste the sea-salt on her lips.

Shayma hadn’t been lying earlier when she’d told Murphy all those wonderful things about himself. Or about her parents flipping out. They were from a different time, a different generation, and they didn’t always see eye to eye on more modern ways of living. It was part of the reason she loved them so much. It was also part of the reason she wanted to find her own path, her own way in the world.

“Got it,” Murphy said, coming up behind her and taking her by the arm to lead her back outside.

“Already? That was quick.”

“She seemed in a talkative mood. Good idea folding that signing sheet in half. She spotted the senators’ photos right away. I wanted to get out of there before she opened that box and found out it was empty.”

“Which one did she pick?”

“Millford Lawrence, of the great state of Kentucky. He’s the chair of the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources.”

Walking fast, they headed back to the uniform rental shop and Murphy changed again. Thankfully, the clerk didn’t ask a lot of questions. Considering it was New York, he probably saw a lot stranger things than them around here.

“The box wasn’t empty, by the way.” Shayma said as they crossed the street and headed back toward the apartment. “I put a nice holiday card and some chocolates in there. Figured Emma deserved that after all she’s put up with working there for the likes of Kent.”

Murphy chuckled and slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Warm tingles went through her and she couldn’t help smiling. It felt like they were a regular couple, out for a holiday stroll. Times like these with him, she could almost believe it. He was grinning too, as if enjoying himself. Since she’d asked him about his mom earlier, it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The shadows in his eyes had disappeared and the tension in his shoulders dissipated. Maybe they could have another night together, an extended fling, before they needed to rush back to reality again.

“It’s almost lunch time now. You hungry?” he asked, letting his arm fall away only to take her hand instead. “I know this great little ice cream parlor nearby. Aileen used to love going there when I’d visit. They have sandwiches and stuff too.”

“Sounds perfect.” She snuggled into his side. When he was like this, so open and caring and considerate, she’d follow him to the end of the earth and back. “We need to celebrate anyway.”

“Celebrate what?” he asked, leading her toward a red brick building with a pink and white striped awning outside. Snow had started to fall in big fat flakes and more carolers sang on the street corner ahead.

Shayma walked through the door he held for her and gasped at the cute interior of the shop, all done up in pastel shades with plaster scrollwork on the ceiling. It reminded her of some of the confectionary shops in Paris she’d visited with her parents as a child. “Celebrate getting a new lead on your sister’s case. And to us coming to a truce.”

“A truce, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yep.” She tugged on his hand and led him over to two empty seats at the dark wood and marble counter. He helped her out of her coat then took off his own before sliding onto the stool beside hers. A waitress brought them waters and menus then left to wait on other customers while they decided. “We work pretty well together.”

He gave her a slow once-over that was so sexy, Shayma was surprised all the ice cream in the shop didn’t melt instantly. “We do a lot of things well together.”

“True,” she managed to squeak out as her cheeks heated and the waitress returned to take their orders—burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes. Once they were alone again, Shayma busied herself with straightening her silverware and folding the paper wrapper her straw had come in. “So, you’ll be glad to get the apartment back to yourself again, huh?”

He frowned and gave her some serious side-eye. “You going somewhere?”

“Mel texted me and said she and Daveed are going back to Heath’s condo tonight. Which means there’s no reason for me to stay with you anymore.” She let her voice trail off, hoping he’d pick up on her hint. When he didn’t, she laid it all out there for him. “Unless you want me to stay with you.”

Murphy paused mid-sip of his shake and stared straight ahead. “Oh, well…”

“I mean, no pressure or anything.” She fumbled her words, feeling like an idiot now for even bringing it up. It had been her, after all, who’d started the whole “fling” thing that morning anyway. For her to turn tail now and all but beg him to ask her to spend the night with him was silly. No matter how badly she wanted him to say it. “In fact, forget I mentioned it. It was stupid of me to—”

“Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes. “Glad we agree on something then.”

He frowned at her. “No, I mean yes. I think you should stay. With me. At the apartment. If you want to.”

Shayma opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Murphy went back to sipping his shake while she fought to keep her grin inside. He wanted more sex with her. That had to be it. He didn’t do relationships. He’d made that clear. She wasn’t looking for that from him anyway. Was she?

Nope. It would be more sex for them. Nothing else. Red-hot, blazingly passionate, toe-curling, heart-thumping, forget-your-mama’s-name-orgasm-inducing sex. And she couldn’t wait.

They devoured their burgers in record time and they were every bit as delicious as Murphy had promised. As she finished the last of her fries, Murphy paid the bill then helped her back into her coat. He kept her hand in his as they walked back outside again, as if he couldn’t stand not to touch her somehow.

At the corner, she bounced on the balls of her feet to dispel some pent-up adrenaline and tried to think of something intelligent to say to get her mind off pressing him up against the nearest light post and dropping to her knees to take him into her mouth. She remembered the salty taste of his skin from the night before and planned to explore every single inch of him as soon as they were back in the apartment. To distract herself, she focused on Aileen’s case. “So, the senator. Guess you’ll be eager to call the guys with that info, right?”

A furrow formed between his dark brows and he tugged her across the street by his side. “Not this time. I want to talk to this guy by myself first.”

“But you’re a team. Just like you and me. You can’t go rogue on this. It’s too important.”

“Going it alone is what I do, darling.” He hurried down the sidewalk, dodging clusters of holiday shoppers and forcing her to keep up. “Must be that rebellious streak you warned me about before.”

Shayma waited until they reached Aileen’s apartment building before pulling her hand free of his. The thought that he’d leave his friends behind so easily to handle things on his own left her suddenly cold. She shivered in the increasing breeze and frowned. “You need to call Heath and Daveed.”

In response, he swooped down and kissed her so fast that she had no time to prepare for the onslaught of her emotions. He had her up against the brick wall, his lips hot and soft against hers as he tasted her deeply. By the time he lifted his head, she could barely remember her name, let alone what they’d been talking about. “And you need to get inside, darling. Before I take you right here, right now, up against this wall.”

That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Then again, she was in enough trouble with her parents back home. The last thing she needed now was to be arrested for public indecency. Giggling, she managed to scoot out from underneath Murphy and take his hand, dragging him inside the lobby then over to the elevators, where they managed to get a car by themselves up to Aileen’s floor.

The minute the doors were closed, Murphy was all over—kissing her, caressing her, sliding his fingers up her thigh until he cupped the heat between her legs through her jeans. Shayma felt boneless, weightless, completely under his spell. It seemed all he had to do was touch her and she would melt into a puddle of goo at his feet.

Heat from their breath and bodies fogged the mirrors on the elevator walls and by the time the bell dinged on the fifth floor, Shayma wasn’t sure her knees would hold her. Luckily, she didn’t have to find out, since Murphy swept her up into his arms and carried her down the hall to the apartment door, ignoring her delighted squeals and the disapproving looks from several of the other tenants.

When he at last put her down, it was only to fish the key from his pocket, and then he still kept her close, his arm around her waist and her hands around his neck. They tumbled inside the place in a tangle of limbs and kisses and passionate sighs.

Shayma honestly didn’t remember getting naked or getting on the bed, but once she was there, she turned the tables on her big, buff, alpha man. The first time they’d made love, he’d been the one in charge and she’d loved every minute of it. But now, she wanted to take the opportunity to taste and explore every inch of him. After all, this might be her last chance, given how adamant he was about going his own way with his case. If he’d turned away from his buddies, leaving her too wouldn’t be far behind. She’d always known developing feelings for a man like Murphy would be risky, she’d just never expected to fall so hard, so fast.

Her heart pinched as she took advantage of his slow perusal of her body to leverage him over onto his back. This beautiful man was all hers right now, and she intended to take full advantage. Thighs straddling his hips, she loomed over him, taking in every line and sinew of his cut torso. She traced her nails lightly over his cheeks, down his neck, over the Navy SEAL tattoo over his heart, then stopped to toy with his small brown nipples. They were so sensitive, he bucked beneath her each time she gently scraped over them. Unable to resist teasing him further, Shayma bent to suckle one, while using her index finger and thumb to tweak the other. Murphy’s hand on her hips gripped tighter, not enough to hurt, just enough to let her know he was enjoying what she was doing. A low, hungry growl escaped from his throat before she silenced him with a kiss.

Straightening, she continued on her journey down his body, tracing the ridges of his taut abdomen and that delectable “V” of muscles near his pelvis that always drove women wild with lust. Finally, her fingers came to rest at the base of his erect cock. Shayma scooted lower down on his legs to allow her better access. He was magnificent, long and proud and not too wide around, with a glistening drop of fluid pearling at his tip. She stroked her thumb through that pre-cum and traced around the sensitive head of his erection before bringing the rest to her lips to taste him—salty and delicious.

Murphy grew restless beneath her once more and tried to roll her beneath him, but she refused to be swayed from her course now. Slowly, her gaze locked with his the entire time, Shayma bent and traced the tip of her tongue around the tip of his cock, once, twice, before sucking an inch or so of him inside her mouth. Murphy slammed his eyes shut and arched his back, his expression full of helpless need as she began a relaxed rhythm of up and down on him. As she pleasured him with her lips and tongue, she used one hand to fondle his balls while the other stroked the base of him. It wasn’t long before his hands, which had been tangled in the sheets beside him, came to rest on her scalp, gently guiding her into what he liked best.

Giving him what he needed was nearly as satisfying to her as having him inside her, but not quite. As much as she wanted to taste his essence in her mouth, she wanted to feel him moving within her even more. So, when his fingers tightened in her hair, signaling his impending orgasm, she backed off.

Murphy fumbled beside him in the nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom packet, which she quickly took from him and opened. Carefully, she put it on him, then positioned herself over his erection so that just his tip was touching her slick folds.

“Is this what you want?” she teased him, flashing him a devious little smile. She’d never really played the vixen in the bedroom before, but Murphy Coen seemed to bring out all her naughtiest sides. She slid him back and forth between her legs, causing them both to moan, before placing his cock at her wet entrance then slowly sliding down until she was completely seated on him. “This is definitely what I want.”

The words emerged as little more than a tumble of sighs as she began rising and falling atop him, tilting her hips slightly for maximum penetration and contact of her swollen clit against his abdomen when they touched. Soon, her head fell back and her eyes closed and she lost herself in sensation. Murphy reached up to play with her taut nipples as she rode him then gave up on submission altogether and sat up, increasing the angle of his cock inside her and taking control of the situation. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, nipping the tender flesh before soothing it with his tongue while reaching between them with the other hand to stroke her clit even more firmly with his fingers and bringing her closer to the edge.

Instead of fighting him, Shayma reveled in his control, arching against him and digging her nails into his shoulders as she slammed herself onto his cock over and over again, each stroke bringing her closer, closer…

“Oh, God,” she cried out, her forehead against his and their eyes locked. “I’m going to…”

“Come for me, darling,” he said, gripping her hips to steady her. “That’s it. Let go for me.”

“I-I…” Shayma sucked in a breath as her world exploded into millions of iridescent shards of light. Her inner walls gripped him tight as Murphy’s steady rhythm of thrusts faltered, harder, harder, until he too threw his head back and groaned, coming so deep inside her she could feel him unraveling at her very core.

With his face buried in the side of her neck and her fingers gently combing through his hair, they sat together, him still inside her as they rocked back and forth for what seemed a small eternity.

They weren’t a couple, weren’t anything formal, really. But when he held her like this and all was quiet and calm, everything in Shayma’s universe felt right. She’d never expected to find her mate so soon after breaking things off with Daveed, but it seemed that was exactly what happened.

Too bad a future between them was impossible.

Slowly, Murphy raised his head and kissed her gently before rolling them down onto the bed and discarding the used condom in the trash bin beside the night stand. He drew the covers up over them and snuggled her close to his side.

“That was incredible,” he said, stroking the damp hair from her forehead. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Once or twice,” she teased, smiling. These moments with him were what she lived for. The moments when she could see past his tough exterior and the walls he’d built around himself and glimpse the scared, abandoned little boy he’d been the day his mother had walked out. The psychologist in her knew that’s where all his bravado and arrogance came from. His rebelliousness too. But when they were like this—alone, unguarded, naked—she could almost imagine a life together with him, a life where he let her inside the fortress of his heart and they could start a family, a home, a life together.

Then her reality came crashing back. Her family wouldn’t accept him, wouldn’t accept anyone unless they’d handpicked the guy themselves. Here in New York, she was her own person, the ruler of her own life. An idea struck, crazy at first, but then gaining ground the more she thought about it. Perhaps she didn’t have to return to Al Dar Nasrani, not immediately anyway. Perhaps she could convince Murphy that what they had between them was worth fighting for and exploring more fully. Perhaps they could give things a trial run here in New York, after they found Aileen, and see if this volatile bond between them would grow into more.

Perhaps…

Her heavy eyelids slid closed and her lips curved into a smile as she drifted off into a sated sleep beside the man of her dreams.