She drew herself up, straightening her spine with as much dignity as she could gather. “All right.”
“Detective Petroski is going to take you to a safe house. I’ll take you back to my place first so you can pick up your things.”
“I’m gonna make the arrangements,” Detective Petroski said, looking from Jane to Mitch. “How ’bout we meet back here in about an hour.”
Mitch nodded and hooked a hand under Jane’s elbow, silently leading her toward the door. She was aware of more than a few pairs of eyes following them as they pushed through the door into the parking lot. He headed for the sedan, unlocked her side and helped her in, then walked around and climbed in behind the wheel.
“I guess it didn’t go so well in there,” she said.
Mitch stared straight ahead. “It could have been worse.”
So selfish, a voice in her head taunted. Never happy with what you have.
Was it true? Was this really all her fault?
“I’m so sorry about everything,” she said.
He looked over at her, eyes stony. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. Let’s just get your things and get this over with.”
Mitch stood in the bedroom doorway, wallowing in his own personal hell, drowning in guilt as he watched Jane stuff her few belongings in the duffel bag he’d given her. He’d never expected to feel this way. This…miserable.
“That’s all of it,” she said. “Everything I own.”
“Let’s go.” He moved aside, so she could walk past him.
Instead she tossed the bag down and stared at him, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest, jaw set. “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, but he could see the determination in her stance, the set of her jaw. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook. She wouldn’t give an inch.
It was what he admired most about her, and it could be annoying as hell. Particularly at a time like this. Couldn’t she see that this was for the best? That getting mixed up with him was a bad idea? That he would hurt her?
“Mitch, don’t shut me out now. I want to know what’s going to happen. Is this it for us?”
He lowered his eyes to the floor. Christ, he couldn’t even look at her. If he did, if he saw hope there—or pain—he would be a goner. They needed to make a clean break. “It would be in both of our best interests if we back off.”
“In our best interests? Would you stop being a cop for two minutes and talk to me?”
“I am a cop. It’s not something I can shut off.”
“Can you at least tell me if we’ll see each other again?”
“You mean, ever?”
“Yes. Ever.”
He finally looked at her, and damn it, he shouldn’t have. There was so much pain there, so much hurt. “Maybe it would be better if we didn’t.”
“So I’m just supposed to forget what happened last night? Pretend it meant nothing?”
“Maybe it did. Maybe it was just sex to me.”
Now she was mad. Her eyes went dark with indignation. “You are such a liar. And a coward.”
“Yeah, so sue me,” he grumbled.
“Go to hell,” she said, then she shoved him—actually planted her hands on his chest and pushed so hard he stumbled back. Then she spun around and started out the bedroom door, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes, and that was his undoing.
“Jane, wait.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to him.
“Let me go,” she said, trying to snatch her arm away, but he pulled her to him anyway. She resisted for about a half a second, then went limp against him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that. Last night was great. It was too great. But you don’t want to get mixed up with me. Can’t you see that ending this would be in your best interest?”
Her voice was muffled against his shirt. “If I always did what was in my best interest, I probably wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”
“What do you want from me, Jane?”
She looked up at him, her eyes mirroring his own frustration. “I don’t want anything—and I want everything.”
He couldn’t stop himself, he had to kiss her one last time. He tilted her head up, pressed his lips to hers. Just one more kiss.
But he knew instantly that a kiss would never be enough, when she tangled her fingers through his hair, pressed her body against him. Arousal slammed him from all sides.
Her eyes dark with desire, Jane reached down and rubbed a hand over the fly of his dress pants. He wanted to do the right thing, but damn it, he couldn’t deny he wanted her. For all the wrong reasons. And all the right ones, which was even worse. And if he’d had an ounce of blood left in his brain, a scrap of good sense, he would have pushed her away. But he needed to be inside of her. One more time. Even if she ended up hating him for it.
He unzipped the back of her dress, shoved the straps down and watched it fall to the floor around her feet, exposing every perfect inch of her body. He would never get tired of this, tired of looking at her, touching her. He lowered his head, took one pale pink nipple into his mouth and she gasped, arching against him. He loved making her feel good. He slipped a hand between her thighs, stroked her. She moaned and arched against his hand. She was so wet for him, so ready. He couldn’t not make love to her.
She fumbled with his belt and unfastened his pants, yanking them open, then shoved his sport jacket off his shoulders. When she started undoing the buttons on his shirt, he stopped her.
“No time,” he said. He backed her against the bedroom wall, then remembered the condom. Definitely couldn’t forget that. “Grab my wallet.”
She did, and rather than handing him the foil package, she ripped it open and rolled it on for him. He was sure he’d died and gone to heaven on the spot.
And he’d never felt so alive in his life.
He pinned her to the wall, lifting her right off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was almost completely dressed, with a sexy, naked woman in his arms. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced.
In one quick, not-so-gentle thrust, he was deep inside her. Each time their bodies joined he swore it felt a million times better than the last. She clung to him, a bundle of silky skin and slick heat.
“Tell me you want me,” she demanded breathlessly. “Tell me you want me as much as I want you.”
“I want you,” he said and crushed his mouth down on hers. She tasted sweet and dangerous. Dangerous because the L word was insinuating itself into what should be plain old sex. Plain old, mind-blowing, screaming-hot sex.
He couldn’t deny it. What they were doing right now, what they’d done last night, was so much more than that.
He tried to pace himself, but he wanted hard and fast and hot and she didn’t seem to mind. He felt it the instant she began to climax. She threw back her head and cried out and her body clenched around him. His own release swept over him swift and intense, locking his muscles and stealing his strength. Without the wall to support them, they would have both been on the floor.
“We’re getting really good at that,” Jane said breathlessly.
He grunted his agreement. If he opened his mouth, he’d wind up saying something he regretted. Something he didn’t really mean, like, I love you, or marry me. Amazing sex could do that to a man.
“It hasn’t always been like this,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I get the feeling, there was a time when I didn’t have a choice.”
Mitch swore under his breath. “I don’t know if I want to hear this.”
“I’m not talking about rape. More like…duty. I think I did what was expected of me.”
He looked her in the eyes, because it was important that she knew he meant what he said. “I didn’t plan this and I didn’t expect it.”
She smiled, smoothing a hand acr
oss his cheek. “I know. That’s what makes it so special.”
And it had to end here. A few more minutes with her this way and he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. “This doesn’t change things.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He gently lowered her to her feet. “We have to get going. They’ll be expecting us.”
She reached down and grabbed her dress from the carpet. While she dressed, he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up.
After all they had been through, could he just leave it like this? Shouldn’t he at least try to explain?
“I’m ready,” she said, appearing in the bathroom doorway. “Let’s get this over with.”
“It’s not you,” he said.
“What’s not me?”
“Why this won’t work. I just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to get involved. My life is complicated right now.”
“Spare me the it’s-not-you-it’s-me crap,” she said with her usual sass, but underneath it he could hear the hurt in her voice. “If you had genuine feelings for me, we could work things out.”
“It’s not that simple. I have responsibilities.”
“In other words, between work, and Lisa and your mom, where would you fit me in?”
“Something like that.”
“Of course it has nothing to do with your fear of commitment.” She tucked her bag under her arm. “We have to go. My new baby-sitters will be expecting us.”
Mitch followed her to the front door, letting her believe what she wanted to believe. He was doing the right thing, putting an end to this before they got too attached to each other. And she was wrong. This wasn’t about any fear of commitment. Like she said, where would he fit her into his life? There was no doubt in his mind she wouldn’t settle for second place. She was also fiercely independent, and wouldn’t let herself be taken care of. The woman was a walking contradiction. And he had the feeling, when she got her memory back, it would only get more complicated.
He was doing her a favor by ending it now. So why did he feel like such a slime? And if he thought it was for the best, why did he feel so damned sick inside?
When they got to the station, Detective Petroski and Darren met them in the lobby.
Detective Petroski took Jane’s bag. “I’ll get her set up and take first shift. Darren’ll relieve me at ten.”
“Swell,” Jane mumbled under her breath, barely loud enough for Mitch to hear, and he felt another shot of guilt. Not that it was any consolation, but Darren didn’t look too thrilled with the arrangement, either.
“I’ll keep you posted from this end,” Mitch told them. “The second I get a break, I’ll call you.”
“It was a tough call,” Darren said. “You did the right thing. She’ll be safer with us.”
Jane narrowed her eyes at Darren. “What was a tough call?”
Knowing what was coming next, Mitch steeled himself. She wouldn’t understand, it had been the only thing he could do. The only way to keep her safe.
“Offering to hand the case off to someone else,” Darren said.
Mitch had let her believe he’d been removed from the case. Knowing he’d given her up voluntarily, after promising to keep her safe, had to sting. She had to feel betrayed.
Mitch waited for the explosion, for Jane to let him have it.
She didn’t bat an eyelash.
“I’m ready to go,” she told Petroski, then she turned to Mitch. The look she gave him was so cold he nearly shivered. “So long, Detective.”
As they walked through the door, Petroski called back to him. “I’ll call you later, let you know when we’re settled in.”
Jane didn’t give him a second glance.
The guilt Mitch had been feeling transformed to an unmistakable sense of unease. He hoped like hell Petroski knew what he was getting himself into, hoped he could handle her.
Jane’s silence alone told Mitch, without a doubt, she was up to something.
“Not the talkative type, are you?”
Jane looked over at Detective Petroski, careful to keep the bored expression firmly in place, when in truth, rage was eating her alive inside. “Sue me.”
He shrugged. “I’m just trying to be sociable. Don’t talk, what do I care?”
Jane sucked in a deep, even breath. Despite his greased-back hair, annoying smoking habit and all-around general ickiness, Detective Petroski didn’t deserve to be the target of her anger. He hadn’t betrayed her. He hadn’t promised—promised—they would solve her case together. He didn’t swear she wasn’t alone, then dump her the first opportunity he got.
Mitch had done that. And the anger, the rage, was the only thing that kept her functioning. When she let it drop, even for an instant, that crippling pain crept in to take its place.
Apparently, last night had meant nothing to him. He’d slept with her, all the while knowing he was going to dump her in the morning. And this afternoon—he could have told her the truth. He had the opportunity. How could he make love to her knowing he’d betrayed her?
He’d made it quite clear what she had suspected all along. She was in this alone. The only person she could depend on was herself.
Petroski’s phone rang, and by the tone of the conversation, she was pretty sure taking this case had gotten him in hot water.
“I told you, Ellen, I gotta work tonight…no, I couldn’t get out of it…I know, but—” He swore and closed his phone.
“Ellen is your wife?” Jane asked. Ellen. Why did that name sound so familiar?
“Girlfriend. We were supposed to go out to dinner.”
Ellen. She ran the name over in her head. She knew that name. And at the same time, it wasn’t right. Was it her? Was it an acquaintance?
Ellen.
She needed a last name to go with it. It was something simple, something easy to remember. She could almost picture it. Ellen Smith. Ellen Jones. Ellen Andrews. Ellen…
Phillips.
Her heart slammed the wall of her chest. Ellen Phillips. The name was Ellen Phillips. And it wasn’t just anyone’s name. It was hers.
But it wasn’t hers.
She massaged her temples. This was so confusing. How could she be someone, but not be someone.
Run, a little voice in her head taunted. Don’t let him find you.
Run where, and from who?
This was all wrong. Detective Petroski couldn’t protect her. She didn’t know how she knew. She just knew that she had to get away from him. She had to go somewhere where no one, not even the police, would think to look for her.
But where?
She had to do something soon. The longer she waited, the further they were from anything familiar. She wasn’t sure where he was taking her, only that it was somewhere outside of Twin Oaks. They’d passed the city limit five minutes ago.
“I haven’t eaten yet today,” she told Petroski. “Do you mind if we stop?”
“Can’t it wait?” He looked at his watch. “It’s noon. Everything will be packed and we’re kind of in a rush.”
That’s what she was betting on. “Low blood sugar,” she said. “If I don’t eat I get really sick and pass out. Didn’t Detective Thompson tell you?”
He looked over to her, then back at his watch, and sighed heavily. “Fine, but let’s make it quick.”
He pulled into the first fast-food place that came along, cursing when he saw that the line for the drive-thru stretched all the way out to the street.
“Why don’t we just go in and order the food?” she offered. “I have to use the ladies’ room, anyway.”
“Yeah, okay.” The lot was nearly full so he swung into a handicapped spot next to the door.
As they stepped inside, the aroma of grease and old coffee turned her stomach. No way she would be able to force down food right now. The idea of eating anything tossed her already unsettled stomach.
All the lines inside were four and five people long, and Petroski swore. “This is gonna take an hour.�
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“I’ll use the bathroom while you wait,” she told him, inching away.
He grabbed her by the arm. “Hold on. I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”
“Come on,” she said. “What could happen to me in a crowded restaurant? Besides, I really have to go.”
She did a knee cross to drive the point home.
Finally, he relented. “Come right back. Hey, what do you want me to order for you?”
“Anything is fine,” she called over her shoulder. She wouldn’t be eating it anyway.
She rounded the corner and headed for the bathroom, but stopped just outside the door. She stood there, out of his line of sight, waiting for several minutes before rushing back. He’d moved up two people in line.
“I’ve got a problem,” she told him. At his quizzical look, she added quietly, “A feminine problem.”
He looked perplexed for a second, then recognition dawned. “Oh, right. So can’t you take care of it?”
“The machine in the rest room is empty. I have stuff in my bag, but it’s locked in the car.”
The person in front of them was giving their order and Petroski looked anxiously to the counter. “Can’t you wait? I’m gonna lose my spot in line.”
She shifted from foot to foot. “I’m not sure how long the TP is going to hold, if you know what I mean.”
He looked thoroughly grossed out, just as she had hoped he would. He pulled his keys out and handed them to her. “Here, go get what you need. Just be careful, okay? Come right back.”
She snatched the keys from his hand, forcing herself to sound perky. “It’ll just take me a second!”
Yeah, she thought as she headed out the door, a second to grab her stuff and go.
Mitch sat at his desk, nursing a Coke and fighting a killer headache. He’d been trying to convince himself all morning that Jane would be fine, and that he’d done the right thing—the responsible thing—by passing her case over to someone else.
But if he was so sure of himself, why did he feel so damned guilty?
“Detective!”
Mitch looked up to see Officer Greene walking toward him, file in hand.
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