Her eyes blazed bright. “I didn’t think about the weather. I didn’t think of anything except catching him. But it didn’t take long for the storm to make it impossible for me to find him.”
“Did you get a good look at him?” He asked the question even knowing that if she’d been able to identify him she would have already done so.
“Black ski mask, black or navy coat.” She frowned. “It all happened so fast.”
“Height...weight?” he asked.
“I...I’m not sure. Maybe taller than me? And with his coat it was difficult to tell body weight.” She shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and expelled a deep breath of obvious frustration. “I’m an FBI agent and I can’t even tell you exactly what my attacker looked like. I can’t even tell you what material his coat was made of.”
“Jordon, cut yourself some slack. You were caught by surprise in the middle of a snowstorm. Whoever it was, entry was made through the bathroom window. It looks like the lock doesn’t connect right.”
She frowned and pulled the blanket back around her shoulders. “I wonder who around here knew the lock wasn’t working properly?”
“Our handyman, Ed Rollings, might know,” he said grimly.
She stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t tell me again you want me to move to another motel. You’re right—I was caught by surprise tonight, but that won’t happen again and I’m not going anywhere.”
Gabriel grimaced. It was as if she’d read his mind and he wanted to shake her for her stubbornness. He walked over to the window and moved the curtain aside to peer outside.
There appeared to be about five inches of snow already on the ground and it was still coming down fast and furiously. Even if there hadn’t been any weather conditions to contend with, his decision would be the same.
He turned back to look at her. “I’m not leaving you alone here until that window is fixed, and that won’t happen before tomorrow.”
“So, I get a snuggle buddy for the night. I like it.” Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes held an inviting light that twisted Gabriel’s gut with a new kind of tension.
Chapter Seven
She couldn’t get warm.
She felt as if she’d never be truly warm again. Even with the blanket clutched tightly around her shoulders and the knowledge that Gabriel was going to be with her through the night, Jordon still possessed a stubborn inner chill that wouldn’t go away.
It wasn’t the fear of the close call with the killer that kept her frozen, but rather the moments when she’d been surrounded by the harshness of winter. At least that was what she told herself.
Gabriel wandered the room, obviously looking for something...anything the killer might have left behind before his attack. His shoulders were rigid with tension and his frown was as deep, as dark as she’d ever seen it.
How she wished things had played out differently tonight. If not for the damned winter weather she was certain she would have managed to capture the killer and the case would have been solved.
It would be nice if they found the killer’s body in the woods sometime tomorrow, frozen to death and no longer a threat to anyone. But she knew fate wouldn’t be so kind.
They wouldn’t find anything in the woods. The snowstorm would have effectively erased or covered any evidence the killer might have left behind.
Gabriel disappeared into the bathroom, and she closed her eyes and tried to access any minute detail about the attacker that she might not have thought of before. Hidden face, dark bulky coat and big, wicked knife—that was all she’d seen and it wasn’t enough.
She’d been anticipating a potential attack, had been so careful, so cautious whenever she’d come and gone from her room. In her wildest nightmares she’d never dreamed the danger would explode out at her from inside her suite.
The whole room felt slightly tainted now. Her privacy, her safe place had been violated by the mere presence of the killer. Still, she was more determined than ever to remain here.
“I should go get a print kit from my car and see if I can lift anything,” Gabriel said as he came back out of the bathroom.
“It wouldn’t do any good. He had on gloves.” She’d seen the knife and she now realized she’d also seen the hand that held it. “Big, black gloves. You won’t find anything in here. You didn’t find anything in Sandy Peters’s room or at the other two crime scenes. This creep is careful and he still hasn’t made a mistake.”
Once again he sat on the edge of the bed facing her. She pulled the blanket closer around her throat. “I don’t think it was Ed.”
He sat up straighter. “Why do you say that?”
She frowned and once again went over every detail of the surprise assault. “Ed is a bit heavyset and I think our killer is leaner.”
“Even if it wasn’t Ed that still leaves Glen, Kevin and Billy Bond as potential suspects. None of them are particularly big men.”
“Billy Bond would know the woods intimately. As groundskeeper, he probably knows the trails better than anyone else,” she replied. “The person I was chasing didn’t seem to be running willy-nilly. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.”
“You shouldn’t have gone out there all alone. You could have been killed, Jordon.” His gaze remained dark and troubled as he looked at her.
“Then I would have died doing what I love. Besides, it worked out okay. The only way things would have been better is if I’d managed to get him and you hadn’t had to ride to my rescue. Did you search all of the woods after Samantha Kent was killed?”
“Every inch of them,” he replied.
“Is there anything on the property besides trees and brush?”
“A couple of old outbuildings,” he said. “One of them is nothing more than a lean-to shed where lawn equipment is stored. The other one is just a little bit more substantial.”
“Substantial enough to harbor somebody overnight in a snowstorm?”
He ran a hand down his jaw where a five o’clock shadow had begun to appear. “Doubtful. There are no windows or doors in it and it lists badly to one side.”
She couldn’t control a shiver that overtook her as she remembered the horror of the frigid temperature and the snow that had been everywhere.
“You’re still cold. I saw a little coffeepot on the vanity in the bathroom. Do you want me to make some?”
“Not unless you want a cup.” She knew what would warm her up. He could. If he’d just wrap her in his arms and kiss her, the inner chill would finally ease. If he took her to bed and made love to her, she’d be wonderfully warm.
With the deep frown cutting across his forehead and the set of his shoulders, the last thing he appeared to have on his mind was any kind of intimacy with her. He probably thought he was going to spend the night on one of the chairs rather than sharing the bed with her.
But he had kissed her and his lips had held the heat of desire and the taste of deep yearning. In the past week she’d felt his attraction toward her. Furtive heated glances, a casual touch that lingered a little too long. Whether he knew it or not, he’d definitely been sending signals she’d received.
“There’s only one way for me to get warm,” she said. She shrugged off the blanket and stood. “I need a nice hot bubble bath.”
His eyes widened. “Now?”
“Right this very minute.” She walked over to the oversize tub and started the water. He turned on the bed to continue to stare at her.
She ignored him and adjusted the water temperature and then added some of the lilac-scented bubble bath to the tub. When she looked at him again, his eyes were still widened with an expression she couldn’t quite read.
He cleared his throat. “If you’re going to take a bath then I’ll just go sit in the bathroom until you’re finished,” he said.
/> “Don’t be silly. If it makes you that uncomfortable then you can just sit there and stare at the fire.” She began to unbutton her blouse.
He whipped his head around to face the opposite direction but not before she saw the searing desire, the raw, stark hunger that lit his eyes momentarily.
“You like baths,” he said, his voice sounding slightly strained.
“I love a nice soak. Now that I think about it, I guess it’s one of my major stress relievers,” she replied.
By the time she’d stripped off the rest of her clothes, the tub was full of steamy, scented water. She eased down into the warm depths and pushed the button to get the jets working.
Leaning back in the tub built for two, she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She wanted a bath, but at the moment what she needed, what she wished for more than anything was the man who sat on the bed.
She wouldn’t be happy, she wouldn’t find the warmth she craved until Gabriel held her in his arms.
* * *
TORTURE.
The sounds of sloshing water, the whir of the jets, and the faint sensual moans she emitted were sheer torture to Gabriel.
He stared intently into the fireplace, but instead of seeing the dancing flames there, his head filled with visions of a very bare Jordon in the tub.
Her skin would be warm and soft and sweetly scented by the fragrance of lilacs. He was jealous of the jetted water that swirled around her naked body. He was on fire with the desire for her that had simmered inside him for the last week.
The memory of the kiss they had shared burned in his head. Her lips had been so soft, so hot, and just thinking about it heated his blood.
“I think this is a perfect night to open this bottle of complimentary wine,” she said. “Would you like a glass?” There was a sweet invitation in her voice.
She was seducing him.
It was evident in her tone of voice, in the fact that she’d gotten into the tub with him sitting right here. She was seducing him and he was helplessly faltering in his desire to not respond.
Don’t turn around, a little voice whispered in his head. He somehow knew that if he turned around, if he saw her in that tub, he’d be lost.
Still, even knowing that he was making a mistake, in spite of all the internal alarms that rang in his head, he stood and turned around.
Her beauty squeezed the air out of his lungs and shot a burst of fiery adrenaline through his veins. Her hair looked even more charmingly curly than it had before, and her creamy shoulders and a hint of her breasts were visible above the bubbles.
He had no conscious memory of crossing the room, but suddenly he stood by the edge of the tub. She smiled up at him and held out a glass of wine. “Why don’t you join me. The water’s just fine.”
She was a wicked temptation, and any good sense he had fled beneath the sensual assault she presented to him. He was cold, and the only way he could get warm was to join her in the tub.
Her eyes beckoned him like a silent siren song. As if in a trance, he took off his belt and dropped it to the floor and then unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. He was making a mistake and someplace in the back of his mind he knew it, but nothing short of the apocalypse could keep him out of that tub.
He took out his gun and set it on the tiled area next to the bathtub and then kicked off his shoes, bent down and peeled off his socks. As he unfastened his slacks and stepped out of them, that inner voice whispered that this was his last chance to stop the madness, but he didn’t listen.
He’d never been a shy man. He knew he was physically fit, but as he took off his boxers and then eased down into the tub, the smile Jordon gave him made him feel like Adonis himself.
She was curled up on one side of the tub and he was on the other. His legs stretched out to the left. She did the same so they didn’t touch each other. She leaned forward and handed him the glass of wine and then grabbed hers.
“Here’s to warm baths and snuggle buddies,” she toasted and then clinked her glass with his.
He didn’t draw a full, deep breath until she leaned back again. If he didn’t touch her then there would be no harm, no foul.
If this was the only intimacy they shared, then they could face each other in the morning without any regrets. He took a big swallow of the wine.
“I’ll admit, this does have its merits,” he said as the warm water swirled around him.
She smiled. “And you’re going to smell like a beautiful spring flower when you get out.” She downed her wine and then poured herself some more. She held the bottle out to splash more in his glass but he shook his head.
“I’m good.” The last thing he needed was to add too much alcohol to the fire. Besides, he was already half intoxicated by her.
She took another sip from her glass and then set it on the side of the tub, closed her eyes and released a sigh of obvious pleasure.
How could she look so relaxed? Only hours before, she had been attacked by a killer and faced freezing to death in the middle of a snowstorm.
He’d wanted to be angry with her for chasing the perp without calling for backup, without giving any thought to the consequences. However, it was difficult to be angry with her when he knew he would have reacted the same way.
It was equally difficult to sit across from her and gaze at her without wanting her. The bubbles were slowly dissipating and in desperation he looked up at the ceiling. The last thing he needed was to do something stupid that might complicate their partnership.
The water sloshed and he knew she was changing positions, but he kept his gaze upward. “Gabriel? Would you mind washing my back?”
Every muscle in his body tensed as he looked at her once again. She held out a wet washcloth and a small beige soap bar, and there was not only a warm invitation in her eyes but also that damned soft seduction. “Please?”
He was helpless to deny her. Hell, he was helpless to deny himself. He took the washcloth and soap from her and moved his legs so that he was sitting cross-legged, and she sat the same way directly in front of him with her back turned toward him.
He wasn’t touching her—the washcloth was, he told himself as he caressed the soapy cloth over her slender back. But he knew he was only fooling himself. He wanted her and it was obvious she wanted him, too.
Good sense be damned, he knew with a sweet inevitability there was no way they would exit this room in the morning without having made love if that was what she wanted.
As soon as the thought filled his head, she turned to face him. The washcloth and soap slid from his hand the second she leaned into him.
Her bare breasts pressed against his chest at the same time their lips met. As the kiss deepened, he stretched out his legs and pulled her fully on top of him.
Warm soft skin, hot lips and the heady scent of lilacs cast all other thoughts out of his head. There was just him and Jordon and this single night.
“I want you, Gabriel,” she said softly as their kiss ended. Her eyes shone with a brilliance he could drown in.
“I want you, too, Jordon.” The words issued forth from the very depths of him.
She placed a finger over his lips. “I love the way my name sounds on your lips. I love the way your body feels against mine. Now I think it’s time we move this to the bed.” She moved away from him and hit the knob that would empty the water.
He stepped out of the tub and onto the bath mat and then grabbed one of the fluffy oversize towels and quickly dried himself off. He took a second towel and beckoned her out of the tub.
He’d officially lost his mind and he knew it, but they were both in too deep to stop now. She stood with her back to him and he began drying her shoulders. As he did so he leaned forward to kiss just behind one of her earlobes.
She leaned her head back and released a small moan tha
t shot fire through his blood. He moved the towel down the length of her slender back, over her perfectly rounded butt and then down her shapely legs.
The tight control he’d maintained since the moment she’d started the water in the tub snapped. He dropped the towel, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
There was no time to fold down blankets or turn out the lights. They were on each other like two hungry animals. He took her mouth in another kiss and reveled in the full-body contact with her.
This time when he broke the kiss, he moved his mouth slowly down the length of her neck, across her delicate collarbone and then to the raised nipple of one of her breasts. He teased it with his tongue, loving the taste of her and the way her fingers splayed in his hair as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
He definitely couldn’t get enough of her. He raised his head and gazed at her. “You are so beautiful, so perfect.”
“I almost believe it when you say it,” she replied in a husky voice.
With his desire a barely controlled beast inside him, he continued to explore her body. It was only when his fingers touched the raised scars on her left hip that desire was tempered by empathy and an anger that she had ever been in a cellar where a madman had played on her body with a lit cigarette.
He ran his fingers over the raised area and then followed the caress with his lips. He’d like to be able to kiss away not only the physical scar, but also the memory of that time, of that horrible pain she had to have endured. He wished he could kiss away the fear that she must have experienced knowing she was in the hands of a brutal serial killer.
He moved his hand to her inner thigh and then to the soft folds of her center. She moaned and whispered his name as he moved his fingers faster against her.
She arched her hips upward to meet him, and within minutes she gasped and stiffened as she climaxed. She shuddered and reached up to grab his shoulders.
Scene of the Crime Page 9