A Profiler's Case for Seduction

by Carla Cassidy

  “Then I think maybe we should take advantage of what time you have left here in Vengeance,” she replied. She stepped closer to him once again, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, see the desire that darkened his eyes. “I want you, Mark. I know you won’t be here for much longer. I’m not looking for a forever, but I’d like one night with you, a sweet memory to hold tight to when you’re gone.”

  “I swore to myself that I was going to stay away from you, that there was no point in continuing having coffee and conversation with you when I wanted so much more. I swore that I wasn’t going to be here tonight and yet here I am.” He pulled a hand from his pocket and raked it through his hair. “Dora, I don’t want to get in your way, to block the path you’ve set for yourself.”

  She smiled and a confidence and strength she’d never felt before filled her up. “Nothing and nobody will block my path.” It was true. Only she could screw up her plans for her future—nobody else—and she had no intention of screwing up.

  She placed a hand on his chest, where she could feel the strap of his shoulder holster but wanted to feel his heart. “One night, Mark. No promises necessary, no looking forward and no looking back. Just one night.”

  He grabbed her to him, and before she could say another word, his mouth slashed down on hers, hot and hungry and filled with the desperate need of a man starved for her.

  And she was starved for him. She leaned into him and raised her arms so she could tangle her fingers in his thick hair. At the same time she opened her mouth to him, allowing the kiss to become deep and hot as their tongues explored.

  The kiss went on until she was breathless. Finally she broke apart and took his hand in hers. She pulled him toward the stairs, which led up to the bedrooms.

  He came willingly with her, and when they were halfway up the stairs, she smelled the scent of lilacs, the candles that she’d lit in hopes that this would happen.

  Her heart fluttered rapidly with each step they took. She wanted this, she wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life. He would be the first man she’d brought into her life since her rebirth and she knew she’d remember him long after he left Vengeance and her behind.

  She pulled him into her bedroom, decorated in lavender and white and lit only by the five fat candles she’d placed around the room. The bed was turned down and beckoned for their bodies, naked and writhing against the pristine white sheets.

  She dropped his hand and turned to face him. The stark hunger she saw on his features torched a heat through her that threatened to consume her. As she stared at him, he unzipped his windbreaker and took it off, then unfastened his shoulder holster and laid it and his gun on the top of her dresser.

  Only then did he open his arms to her once again. This time when they embraced there was nothing between them, except his T-shirt. She felt the wild thunder of his heartbeat against her own.

  Their mouths met in another kiss as his hands caressed up and down her back, molding her to him. She felt his hard arousal and it only shot the desire inside her to a higher level.

  As he grabbed her buttocks and pulled her tightly against him, she rocked her hips back and forth, the friction of her jeans and his hardness spiraling her up and half out of control.

  His lips left hers and blazed a trail down her jawline and into the hollow of her throat. She dropped her head back, dizzy with pleasure as his lips teased and nipped erotically against her sensitive skin.

  “Mark.” She finally managed to breathe his name. Things were moving so fast and they weren’t even partially undressed. She didn’t want this fast and over. It had been so long, and she wanted him slow and in bed with her. She wanted to savor every kiss, each caress.

  He stumbled back from her and grinned. “You make me crazy,” he said in a husky voice.

  She grinned back. “The feeling is more than mutual,” she replied. She reached out and unfastened the top button of his white shirt. When she unfastened the second one she moved the material aside and pressed her lips against his muscled, hot skin. He stood so still it was as if he had stopped breathing. She continued one button at a time, one kiss for each button, until the shirt was completely unfastened and he shrugged it to the floor. She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it off over her head then sought the warmth of his arms once again.

  With only the thin material of her white lacy bra between them, she loved the feel of him, the muscled planes and warm skin. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers worked the fastener of her bra. The garment came loose and she shrugged it from her shoulders. His hands moved around to cup her full breasts.

  She closed her eyes as his fingers rubbed across her taut nipples, creating a coiling heat that pooled in the very core of her.

  He dropped his hands from her and unfastened his slacks at the same time he kicked off his shoes. “If I don’t get you into that bed right now, I’m going to be insane,” he whispered.

  She stepped back from him and tore at her jeans, wanting nothing more than to be naked with him and beneath her sheets. Within mere seconds they were there, bare limbs tangled together as their mouths once again melded together.

  With each stroke, with every touch of his hands and mouth on her, she knew the rightness of her decision to be here with him now. She knew there was no chance of a future with him. She’d never have a future with any man, for she’d never share enough of her heart, her soul, her past with anyone. But for now, it was perfect, Mark was perfect and she reveled in him.

  Their caresses grew more heated and more intimate as he slid his hand down her stomach to tease her inner thighs with feather-soft strokes.

  In turn she reached down and encircled his hardness, loving the feel of him pulsating in her hand. He hissed with pleasure and his fingers slipped into place at her center. Rubbing in small circles, he brought her to climax with a quickness that left her gasping.

  Then he was inside her, stroking slow and deep, his eyes glittering as he gazed down at her. Tenderness was in those beautiful eyes of his. His gaze held tenderness and caring and the need to please, all emotions that fed a hunger that burned inside Dora’s soul, emotions that filled spaces inside her that had been empty since her youth.

  She clutched at his shoulders as he continued to possess her, his stokes beginning to accelerate, his breathing harsh and ragged. She raised her knees, allowing him deeper penetration. A rising storm built up inside her and she bucked her hips to meet his.

  The storm centered and swept over her, shuddering her from head to toe and leaving her gasping in its wake. At the same time Mark stiffened and groaned, reaching his climax.

  He collapsed at her side and the room held only the sounds of their quickened breaths slowing to normal. She’d just assumed that now that they were finished Mark would slide out of the bed, get dressed and leave her, like all the men in her life had done before him.

  She released a small sigh of surprise as, instead, he rolled over on his side and leaned in to give her a long, tender kiss. “That was unbelievably amazing.”

  What was amazing was that they were finished and his eyes still held a sheen of desire coupled with such tenderness it threatened to force tears of joy.

  “It was wonderful,” she agreed. “And thank goodness you didn’t drift off in the middle of it.”

  He laughed and ran a finger down her cheek, grazing her skin softly. “There was no way I was going to miss one moment of loving you. I was happily present for every single second.”

  “You know I would have slapped you otherwise,” she said teasingly.

  “And it would have been a deserved slap.” He moved his fingers to thread through her hair. “So soft, so silky,” he murmured.

  As he pulled her back into his arms, she snuggled against his warmth, wishing she’d met him years ago, wishing he’d been her first, before
the other men who had made it impossible for her to ever think about a forever with any man.

  * * *

  There was no question about it, Mark was on the precipice of being completely in love with Dora Martin. As her warm curves filled his arms and she fit so neatly against him, he knew she was the woman who would complete him.

  She got him. She got his dry sense of humor, his quirkiness, and most importantly, she understood and didn’t resent his momentary absences when he drifted into the deep thoughts inside his own head.

  They were counterparts in many ways. She was outgoing while he was more of an introvert. She was filled with a light that drew him out of the darkness. She was good for him, and she made him want to be good for her.

  He knew the moment she fell asleep, and he tightened his arms around her, as if to capture her close to him forever. He had no intention of sneaking out of bed and leaving her and returning to his motel room. He wanted to wake up to the morning with her still at his side.

  The candlelight cast dancing shadows all around the room. He thought about getting up to blow out the candles, but they were in big jars and he wasn’t concerned about a fire hazard. Besides, he didn’t want to wake her now. He was afraid if he did she might decide to send him on his way.

  He admired her desire to get her degree, to better her life, and he understood with two failed marriages behind her that she was gun-shy about relationships. But even if this case was solved and he returned to Dallas, that didn’t mean things between them had to end.

  Dallas was only a short commute from Vengeance and he would never get in the way of her life plan. He’d like to think he could walk beside her on her path through the rest of her life.

  Sleep came and with it the nightmare of Melinda. Once again she was heavy on his chest, her lush lips red and wet, as if she’d just eaten somebody’s soul. Her eyes glittered with the harsh glint of madness released and her laughter held an edge of both intense pleasure and hysteria. Mark felt the tightening of something around his neck. She was mocking him.

  He couldn’t move his arms and he wasn’t sure if it was the strength of Melinda’s thighs that held them tight against his side or if he was bound in some way. He only knew he couldn’t defend himself against her...against them. Helpless, he was utterly helpless as Melinda and a man laughed while he slowly died.

  He came awake with a frantic gasp, his heart racing painfully and a choking sensation in the back of his throat. He fought the need to cough as he felt the warmth of Dora still in his arms, as he oriented himself to the single flickering candle that had not gone out.

  Closing his eyes once again despite the fact he knew it would be some time before he fell back asleep again, he went over what apparently was becoming a recurring nightmare.

  Despite the fact that they had a viable suspect in jail, his mind refused to let go of the theory of Melinda’s involvement in the murders.

  Mark had never considered himself an exceedingly stubborn man. When presented with facts that countered his thoughts, he always capitulated on the issue. Facts trumped theories in any case. So, why this continued obsession with Melinda, an obsession that obviously was still at work someplace in his unconscious brain?

  By tomorrow they should all know if there was a workable case against Troy Young or not. If they couldn’t build a case against him except through the circumstantial evidence that he hated all three of the murder victims, then Mark had a feeling the district attorney wouldn’t go through with a charge and Troy would be released.

  He didn’t have a lot of faith in the fact that Troy Young had a pair of old boots that had traces of the red earth and mineral content of the area where the murder victims had been found. That particular mix could be found in lots of places in and around Vengeance.

  If Troy was kicked to the curb, then the team would be back where they’d started, with no other viable suspects. And Mark had a feeling his obsession with Melinda would only continue to grow.

  He must have fallen back asleep for when he opened his eyes again the faint stir of morning light filtered in through the nearby window.

  He was on his back, Dora by his side, her hand on his chest as if at some point through the night she’d sought the feel of his heartbeat.

  She was beautiful in the morning light, not like a twenty-five-year-old woman might be beautiful, without lines or character on her features. Dora looked like the mature woman she was, with tiny faint laugh lines radiating out from her eyes even in sleep. Mark found each and every one of those lines beautiful.

  Emotions he’d never felt with Sarah buoyed up inside him as he remained motionless, watching Dora sleep. He wanted to be inside her head, know every thought in her brain, each and every desire she entertained. He wanted to know every inch of her both inside and out.

  He’d told her he wasn’t eager to try a relationship again, but he realized now he’d been wrong. He and Sarah had known they’d made a mistake in the first year of their marriage, but by that time Sarah had discovered she was pregnant.

  They’d agreed to try to work it out for the baby’s sake, but ultimately they had never been right for each other and he was only grateful they’d escaped the marriage relatively unscathed, with Grace as a bonus prize.

  Dora felt right in the way Sarah never had. He could look forward ten years in time and see her by his side. He could look forward twenty years and she was still there.

  All he had to do was figure out how to make her see what he saw so clearly at the moment—that they belonged together, that they were two halves of a whole.

  Suddenly he was looking into the depths of her soft, sleep-laden gray eyes. “Good morning,” he murmured softly.

  “Hmm.” She closed her eyes and snuggled closer against him, as if reluctant to have a new day begin.

  He was definitely reluctant to begin a new day. The last thing he wanted to do was leave this bed, release Dora from his arms. But he had an early-morning briefing and could only indulge in this sweet existence for a little while longer.

  He breathed in the scent of her, the faint wildflower fragrance that he knew would haunt him for a long time after he left this small town and this woman behind.

  Unless he could somehow make her see that they belonged together, that it was okay for her to let down her guard, to let him into her life completely, when it came time to go, he’d leave here all alone.

  “I wouldn’t mind waking up right here every morning,” he said softly.

  “Hmm, nice,” she replied, obviously still half-asleep.

  They remained like that for another twenty minutes or so and then Mark knew he had to get up and get ready for the day ahead. He needed to get back to his motel room, shower and change into clean clothes before heading to the war room in the county courthouse.

  Reluctantly he withdrew his arms from around her and rolled away. She mewled like a kitten who had just lost a ball of yarn. “I’ve got to get back to the motel and head in for work,” he said as he got out of the bed.

  She rolled over on her back, her sleepy gaze watching him as he grabbed his clothes off the floor and began to dress. “This is the best way ever to start a new day,” she said while he pulled on his slacks.

  “The feeling is mutual,” he replied with a grin. He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that his wish was that they start every day this way, but he was afraid of her response, afraid that by pushing her too quickly he’d never have a chance for something more.

  He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, and realized that he had fallen off the cliff, that he was in love with Dora Martin and he wasn’t sure what to do about it, wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about it.

  When he was dressed, he walked over to her side of the bed and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. “I’ll check in with you later today, okay?”

  “I
’ll be at the bookstore tonight until eight-thirty,” she replied. “And if I was a good woman I’d get up right now and fix you a quick breakfast before you leave.”

  He smiled down at her. “You are a good woman, Dora, and I’ll grab a doughnut at the briefing.” With a murmur of goodbye, he walked out of the bedroom.

  He left the house with a vision of her snuggled beneath the sheets, a vision he wanted to hang on to forever. But he knew all too soon it would be shoved to the back of his head when he focused again on murder and kidnapping.

  The sun streaked pink and orange bands of welcome across the eastern sky as he walked toward his car parked at the curb in front of her house.

  Autumn was in full swing, with a bracing nip in the air that made him want to whistle with a kind of happiness he’d never known before. Funny, he’d never wanted to whistle in his life, but Dora made him want to whistle...and sing...and dance.

  When he reached his car he was about to get in behind the steering wheel when he saw a white piece of paper stuck beneath his windshield wiper.

  Was it a parking ticket? He looked around but didn’t see any no-parking signs in the area. He plucked the paper out, and the words written there caused him to reach for his gun, to lower his body and gaze around himself with narrowed eyes.

  His heart pumped adrenaline through him, but he saw nobody in the area. The street was deserted and there was no movement anywhere in his sight to indicate that whoever had left the note might still be in the area.

  He holstered his gun and slid into the driver seat, the note still clutched in his hand. He laid the note on the passenger seat and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and punched in Richard’s phone number. When Richard answered, Mark spoke only four words.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  Chapter 11

  “Troy Young is innocent and you are in danger, Mark”

  Mark stood in front of his team and read the note that had been left under his windshield wiper, now in a clear plastic evidence bag.