Virginia didn’t expect to sleep much that night, so she was not surprised when she drifted in and out of a restless haze for a couple of hours after going to bed. What astonished her was that she did not have a panic attack. Under the circumstances, that seemed strange because every time she closed her eyes, she thought about how close she and Cabot had come to dying in the inferno. The memories should have sparked a storm of anxiety. She and Cabot had, after all, relived their worst nightmare from childhood.
At about one thirty in the morning it finally hit her. This time was different. This time we saved ourselves.
She gave up trying to sleep, pushed aside the covers and swung her feet to the floor. For a while she sat there, trying to sort through her feelings and sensations. She had her meds in her handbag but she didn’t need them. She was definitely wired but, astonishingly, she seemed to be dealing with the fallout from the harrowing experience. Perhaps there would be some kind of delayed reaction in the future, but for now she was, oddly enough, relatively okay.
She stood, pulled on her robe and went to sit in a chair at the window. Most of the marina lay in darkness, but there were a few lights strung along the docks. A cluster of private boats and a small sightseeing vessel bobbed gently in the dark water.
A soft knock sounded. Cabot was awake, too. She glanced at the bedside clock. It was one thirty-five. No surprise.
She rose and opened the connecting door. Cabot, dressed in trousers and a T-shirt, loomed in the shadows. His dark hair looked as if he had raked his fingers through it. His eyes were deep pools of midnight. She sensed the edgy energy prowling through him.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You couldn’t sleep, either.”
“Business as usual for me. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, strangely enough. I keep thinking about what happened today, of course. How so many things could have gone wrong, but didn’t.”
“What happened today was that we made one hell of a team.”
“And we got very, very lucky.”
“As Anson would say, we made our own luck.”
She thought about that and then smiled a little. “Yes, we did.”
Cabot retreated a step. “If you’re sure you’re okay —”
And just like that she knew she did not want him to go.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” she said.
“What?” He sounded a little wary.
“Why did you get fired from your job as chief of police? I know it’s none of my business, but I have this theory, you see.”
Cabot braced one hand on the doorframe.
“You’ve got a theory,” he repeated, his tone utterly neutral.
She was on dangerous ground now, but she was very sure she would not retreat.
“Yes,” she said.
“What is your theory?”
“I’m guessing you were probably a little too good at your job. It was a small town. That means small-town politics. You might bend the rules if you thought that was the only way to see that justice was done, but you wouldn’t give an inch if some local mover and shaker tried to lean on you. If you bent a rule, I’m guessing you would have found a way to keep it quiet. So, what did you do? Arrest the mayor’s son?”
For a second or two she didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he whistled very softly.
“How the hell did you figure it out?” he asked.
“You and I have been through a lot lately. I’ve learned a few things about you.”
Cabot was silent for a few beats.
“It wasn’t the mayor’s son,” he said finally. “The mayor didn’t run the town, a man named Ashcroft did. He owned the biggest local business. Employed a lot of people. Half the town owed him in one way or another. His son, Nick, came home from college for a long weekend. He brought some friends with him. They got high, picked up a couple of local girls – high-school kids – and got them blackout drunk. Probably used drugs. They raped the girls. One of Nick’s pals made a video with his phone. The father of one of the girls came to me for help. I looked at the video and arrested Nick and his buddies.”
“What happened?”
“Ashcroft threatened to have me fired if I didn’t get the charges dropped. Said I was going to ruin his son’s future. I ignored him. In the end, Ashcroft finally made a deal with the families of the two girls. Paid them off. They dropped the charges.”
“And you lost your job.”
“I was ready for a change. By then I had already figured out that if you want to pursue a career in law enforcement in a small town, you have to be good at playing politics.”
“Which is not your strong suit.”
“No,” Cabot said.
“All in all, the private investigation business sounds like the right career path for you.”
“It feels like a good fit.”
Another short silence.
“Would you mind very much if I kissed you?” she said.
“It’s okay so long as it’s not one of those pity kisses.”
“Nope. I just want to kiss you. But I should warn you that it probably won’t go anywhere, given my intimacy issues. I don’t want you to think of me as a world-class tease.”
“You’re world-class but you are definitely not a tease,” Cabot said. “You’ve got a few issues. So do I.”
“Different kind of issues, though.”
“Issues are issues. We’re wasting time here. Are you going to kiss me or not?”
She took a step forward, gripped his shoulders and crushed her mouth against his.
Except he didn’t crush. Instead, he caught her face between his hands and raised his head so that his mouth was an inch away from hers.
“Remember what I said,” he whispered, his voice a little ragged. “It’s not a trip to the dentist.”
“I know.” She clutched at his shoulders. “I just don’t want to screw up again.”
“Then quit trying so hard. Relax. Go with what you feel. When you stop feeling it, we’ll stop whatever it is we’re doing at that moment.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”
She giggled. It was ridiculous. Totally inappropriate. But for some reason, the urge to laugh was irresistible.
Cabot did not laugh, but in the glow of the night-light, she could see him smiling a very sexy, very masculine smile.
The part of her that had been locked in ice for so long started to heat. She leaned into Cabot’s strength and kissed him again, not trying to force the pace; taking her time, testing the waters.
She sensed his response – his mouth was hot, his body was hard and his erection was rigid – but he made no attempt to overwhelm her. He did not tighten his grip on her nor did he try to rush her.
Encouraged by her own reaction as well as his, she pressed herself against him, caught hold of his wrist and moved his hand to her waist.
A deep longing rose within her. She wanted to touch and be touched. She wanted to be free to enjoy the sensual side of herself.
The kiss got more intense. Thrilling. It charged all of her senses.
After a moment or two she guided one of Cabot’s hands inside her robe, just under her right breast. He settled his fingers there but he did not try to touch her in more intimate ways.
She slipped her hands up under his T-shirt, thrilling to the feel of him. To hell with feeling guilty for sending out mixed signals. Cabot could handle it if she lost her nerve again. He could handle it if she experienced a panic attack. He would not hold it against her. He would not judge her. He would not think she was weird.
An unfamiliar excitement ignited her blood. She began to explore Cabot with a growing sense of urgency.
“Virginia,” he whispered.
Carefully, cautiously, he drew the pad of his thumb across the tip of her breast. It was as if he had flipped a switch. Desire crashed through her.
“Yes,” she said. She kissed Cabot’s throat, the curve of his shoulder; closed her teeth around his ear. “Yes.”
“There’s no rush,” he whispered.
“Yes. There is.”
“We’ve got all night.”
“You might have all night. I don’t. I need to do this now, before something goes wrong.”
“That’s it. Think positive.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “Just a little. Mostly I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to be afraid. We can go this far and stop as often as you want.”
“I don’t want to stop, damn it. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Whatever you say.”
She seized his hand and started to haul him into her room, aiming for the bed.
“No,” he said.
He didn’t try to free his hand but he did not follow her. Instead he simply stood there in the doorway between the two rooms, as immovable as a large rock.
The first flicker of fear sparked through her. She’d screwed up somehow.
“What?” she said.
He tugged her gently back toward him. “We don’t need a bed.”
Her heart sank. This was worse than she’d thought. He might not blame her for leading him on, but he had evidently lost interest in the entire project.
He led her across the room and stopped at the padded reading chair. He unzipped his trousers and lowered himself into the chair.
“Let’s try it this way, instead,” he said. “You did say you liked to be on top.”
He drew her down slowly, giving her time to figure out a comfortable position. And then she was kneeling astride his thighs, her nightgown riding up above her hips.
Desire rushed back with the force of an incoming wave. She wrapped her fingers around his shoulders to steady herself.
He moved one hand along the inside of her leg and then he was touching her, stroking her in ways that made her want more. She closed her eyes against the fierceness of her need. Everything inside her went tight. She sucked in her breath and dug her nails into his shoulders.
He did something with his fingers, something that shocked her senses in the most delightful way, and in the next instant the intense, tightly wound sensation inside her was released in a series of deep waves.
“Cabot. Cabot.”
He eased her down onto his rigid erection before she had finished climaxing. She was so sensitive now she could scarcely catch her breath. Another little ripple of release sparkled through her, an echo of the first cathartic sensation.
She heard Cabot’s hoarse, muffled groan. His heavy climax shuddered through both of them.
The night became very still and quiet.