A month later, with the San Diego sun hot on her head, Becca stared down at her mother’s grave. It was the first time she been back since her mother’s funeral all those years ago. Even now, the site of the marker nudged at the demons, and a nightmarish, writhing figure ghosted along the edge of her mind, knocking for entrance.

Her fingers tightened around Rio’s hand, and the demon fled.

She sighed, her world at rights for the first time since her mother’s death.

Adam was in jail, his bail denied. Apparently the courts didn’t approve of flagrant attacks on one of their own. While Lena had been charged with accessory to murder, she’d been allowed out on bail and was camped out at Villa Fontaine, hiding from reporters. Preston had jilted Adele, so the wedding was off, to the unmistakable relief of the bride-not-to-be.

She bent to set the huge bouquet of red roses against her mother’s headstone. Red—symbolizing love and remembrance.

Straightening, she looked out over the cemetery her mother had been buried in. An ocean of emerald grass and tranquility stretched out before her. Who’d paid for the funeral? The headstone? The plot? Had it been her father? Harold? She’d probably never know for sure, since both men were dead.

“Fuentes opened an investigation into Moyer and Henderson, and the role they played in covering up your mother’s murder,” Rio murmured, his hand warm and comforting around her own.

“We knew it was coming,” Becca said.

The media had gotten their first whiff of the story with Rio’s 911 call. Within days, reporters had broken the sordid story wide open, and pressure from local lawmakers to hold Moyer and the old M.E. accountable, had quickly risen.

Turning to Rio, she grimaced. “Are the reporters still making your life hell?”

They’d become minor celebrities since the story of her mother’s murder and the resulting fall out had hit the news.

“It’s dying down.” Rio said, squeezing her hand. “How are your clients handling the attention?”

After a three-week hiatus, where she’d basically hidden out with Emma and wallowed in Rio’s attention, she’d returned home and reopened her practice.

“It went okay. I didn’t lose as many clients as I expected.” Which was almost a shame.

Losing her client base and having to start over would have made the looming decision easy. This new relationship unfurling between Rio and her was precious, but fragile. Would it survive her commute between San Diego and Olympia? Would it survive two days together, followed by five days apart?

“How’s the shoulder?” He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Good as new. How about your ribs?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows.

The gleam in Rio’s blue-gray eyes told her exactly where his mind was headed. Same place hers had been occupying lately. Between the bullet hole in her shoulder, and his bruised ribs, they’d been banned from physical intimacy—banned by their own bodies.

Sure, there had been some light petting, lots of cuddling and plenty of kissing. But anything further had brought groans and hisses, and not of the pleasurable kind.

After a month of stimulation, and no satisfaction, her libido was in danger of flaming out. She seriously needed some alone time with her man.

In unison, her hand still locked in his, they turned, walking down the hill. He slung an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer.

He hadn’t hesitated or groaned when he lifted his arm. She took that as a good sign.

“I’ve got the night off. I’m thinking lasagna, ciabatta bread, a Caesar salad.”

“Are you offering to feed me?” A grin tickled Becca’s lips. Anticipation rose hot and heavy.

“You’re as hungry as I am.”

The glitter in his eyes was a dead giveaway. He wasn’t talking about food.

“I am. I’m starving. And lasagna is Emma’s favorite, she’ll be thrilled.” Becca said, totally deadpanned.

He stopped in his tracks, his forehead wrinkling in consternation, his gorgeous blue-gray eyes wary. “Uh, Becca—”

She burst into laughter. He responded by swallowing her amusement with his mouth.

A long time later, he dragged his lips from hers. “I’m about to explode, babe. Let’s table this until we get home.”

Home…

The word brought an immediate image. Him, her, together. Her lips still tingling, she smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

They started walking again.

“How is Emma anyway?” he asked.

Some of Becca’s happiness dimmed. “She’s worried about Lucas. Lonely. Trying not to show it.”

He nodded, his face thoughtful. “It’s a hard life she’s chosen.”

Becca glanced at him and frowned. She was almost certain he wasn’t just referring to Lucas’s career choice. Rio’s career held danger as well. She had firsthand knowledge of that.

She squeezed his hand. “It’s worth it though…with the right man.”

He squeezed back, silently telling her he’d gotten the message.

They stopped by the supermarket on the way home, picking up the fixings for dinner. Becca raised her eyebrows when Rio added a bottle of Pinot Grigio to the cart. It was her favorite variety and her favorite label. He’d been paying attention. She was impressed.

Anticipation built as they worked side by side in the kitchen, deliberately brushing against each other, stoking their appetite to a boil. After she’d unleashed a particularly long, sensual shimmy against his hip, he suddenly tossed the cheese grater down on the counter.

“Fuck this.” His voice was guttural. Flags of red rode his cheeks. He grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the bedroom.

“But I’m hungry.” She aimed for a plaintive tone, but the words emerged in a sensual purr.

“So am I,” he said, his voice more growl than purr.

His mouth found hers on the way down the hall, and famine flamed. They lost their shirts in the hallway, their pants at the foot of the bed. They tumbled together onto the mattress. When he yanked her panties down her legs, the motion was so urgent they shredded with a screech. But his hands gentled as he reached for her breasts.

Unhooking her bra, he eased it out of the way and stroked a finger across her nipple. It tightened beneath the caress.

She quivered, her skin tight and tingly, her blood fizzing through her veins.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze hot and hungry as it climbed to her face.

Her heart melted, although she could think of lots of things more beautiful—like his chiseled chest and ripped abdomen. Like the hard, hungry planes of his face. Like the emotion in his eyes.

And then his mouth closed over her breast, and she forgot to breathe, forgot to think, could only feel. She grounded herself by clutching his back, only to find herself distracted by the tight, rippling muscles beneath her palms.

He felt so good. Steel sheathed in satin. A hot, hard, rush beneath her hands.

The wet suck of his mouth on her breast sparked an answering pulse between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, trying to keep the building moisture inside. As his mouth left her chest to wander down her belly, Becca groaned, holding her breath in expectation. His lips trailed fire, followed by chills and goosebumps.

He scooted down on the bed, and lifted her legs, draping them over his shoulders. And then the wet heat of his mouth was at the core of her, suckling. The wicked thrust of his tongue pushing her higher and higher. Every muscle in her body clenched beneath the exquisite pleasure.

The chemistry had always been there, simmering between them, but this…she choked back a scream…this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. And then she was shattering, her body an endless convulsion of quaking muscles and slick skin.

She returned to awareness to the urgent beat of his heart against hers. With a languid stretch that rubbed her body against his from shins to shoulders, she opened her eyes and found him watching her, his gaze hot and hungry.

Reaching up, she stroked his tight cheek. “I suppose it’s my turn to feed you.”

His smile was so tight, it looked more pained than humorous. “How’s the shoulder?”

The question melted her heart and then tickled her funny bone. Her lips twitched. “Why? Are you going to stop if I say it hurts?”

He suddenly rolled, dragging her on top of him. Threading his fingers in her hair he urged her head down.

“Nope. I’ll just let you do the work,” he whispered, nibbling at her lips.

“I’m good with that,” she whispered back.

Languidly, she guided her mouth down his chest and abdomen, taking the same path he’d taken earlier. His skin was salty beneath her tongue. His flesh rippling with each nibble of her teeth. He tasted delicious. Like hot, urgent male.

When she reached the base of his penis, she ran her tongue along the twin, tightly drawn mounds. He jolted beneath her. His breath coming hard and fast. She got one good swipe of her tongue across the bulbous head of his penis before he broke.

Hands clamped over her hips, lifting her up and forward. Taking hold of his cock, she guided him into place and settled back down, taking him inside. The tension coiled again as she lifted and lowered herself, the pleasure twining tighter and tighter, sharper and sharper, constricting into that imperative, agonizing knot of need.

Only this time, when the pressure shattered, they flew off together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

The second time she returned to Earth, she felt Rio’s hand sliding up and down her spine. She smiled in contentment, listening to the hard beat of his heart against her ear, basking in the furnace beneath her splayed form.

“I’ve been thinking,” Rio said, his voice gruff. “There are plenty of law enforcement opportunities in Olympia, or even Seattle.”

It took a minute for his comment to register, another for the meaning to hit home. She jolted up, staring down at his face. “You’d do that for me? You’d move to Olympia?”

His arms tightened around her waist, and a solemn expression claimed his face. “Babe, I’d do anything for you.”

She didn’t realize until his words hit her ears how much she needed to hear them. Her smile was shaky. “I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

“Good to know.” His voice was even gruffer than before. “Because I love you too.”

The last of her demons released their grip and floated away. The gift he’d just given her was so much more than she’d ever expected.

Enough to build their life together on.