They stayed like that for long moments, pressed together, arms and legs entwined. Lindsey began to feel reality, but shoved it away. She didn’t want to think about why he felt so right or why he made her heart flutter in such a funny little way. He moved, rolling off her, but pulled her with him so that she rested on his shoulder. His arm was around her, holding her close to his side, and her hand settled in the soft hair of his chest.
And for just tonight, she wanted to pretend they were really special.
* * * * *
How long they rested, wrapped together, Mark didn’t know.
Lindsey was amazing and he wanted to hold her forever. His eyes went wide. Forever. Where the hell had that come from? He was getting way out of control, way too fast. Lindsey had him tied in knots like no other woman ever had.
She nuzzled his chest, and he found himself running his hand down her hair. “Hungry?” he asked, thinking food and a bit of distance, as much as he didn’t want it, would help him snap out of whatever spell she had him under.
“Starved,” she said, pushing herself up on her elbow so she could look at him. The movement put her bare, sexy breast directly in his line of view.
He swallowed. “If you want food, you better cover up, because it won’t take much to detour me.” Because he simply couldn’t help himself, he entwined his hand in her hair and pulled her lips to his, kissing her with slow, caressing strokes.
When he tore his lips from hers, he stared at her. “Damn woman, we better go eat. I think we both might need the energy.”
She smiled at him, soft and alluringly sweet. Very unguarded, and he praised the moment. Something told him they were few and far between. “I think you might be right.”
* * * * *
Lindsey sat on the kitchen counter, wearing Mark’s shirt, and loving the way it smelled like him. And how intimate and perfect it made her feel, wearing his clothes.
Mark moved around the kitchen, pulling out plates and glasses and pushing buttons on the microwave. Deeply absorbed in his task of heating up their take-out, he looked almost boyish. Not easy for a dominating presence like Mark.
The man was a powerhouse who walked into a room and drew attention, and even more so, respect.
“Can I do something?” Lindsey asked, smiling as his efforts. Thus far he had made her promise to let him do the work. It was as if he wanted to wait on her. Not something that seemed to fit his personality. She wanted to condemn him as just like her father, but he kept doing things that didn’t quite compute in the formula.
He gave her power where she thought he would take it.
Mark looked up from the plate he was filling, and returned her smile. “If you really want to help, you can grab the wine from the bar and fill our glasses.”
Lindsey pushed off the cabinet, happy to perform her assigned duty. A few minutes later, wine-filled glasses in hand, heading back to the kitchen, she found Mark exiting the kitchen, two plates in his hands. He motioned towards the living room with his chin. “I thought it would be nice to enjoy the view while we eat.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded her approval. It would be very nice indeed. Fear inched into her stomach. Mark was really getting to her. Where was independent Lindsey who didn’t need or want any man? Because this Lindsey, the one following a man wearing only boxers on a sexy body into the living room, was really wanting this one.
Like beyond the night.
Lindsey sat the wine glasses on the table, and she sank to her knees. Mark put the plates on the table side by side. “Mmmm, it smells so good. I’m so hungry. Chicken Marsala?”
“My favorite,” he said sitting down beside her. I hope it works for you.”
“I love chicken Marsala. You did well.” Lindsey picked up a fork, and took a bite. “It’s terrific.”
“Or you’re just hungry,” Mark offered with a laugh.
Lindsey shrugged. “Maybe, but it tastes good, whatever the reason.”
They ate in compatible silence for several minutes until Lindsey turned to study him. “Can I ask you something kind of personal, Mark?”
He laughed. “Well, I’d say we’re about as personal as two people can get, so go for it.”
Lindsey frowned. Sex wasn’t an indicator of how well two people knew each other by her book. Granted, what had passed between her and Mark had been unique, and far more moving than pure, physical lust . . . but it didn’t make them progress beyond simple possibilities.
The chance for more between them was farfetched. And getting to know him could make her like him more. A risk she would have to take, because finding out more could also help her put things into perspective and keep her heart detached.
So, she took the plunge, and started asking questions. “Did you always know you wanted to be an attorney?”
* * * * *
Mark digested Lindsey’s question with interest. He sat his fork on the table, and looked at her, long and hard. Her question said a lot. She was close to letting down a small barrier. The very fact that she was trying to get to know him said a lot. “My father is an attorney just like yours, so I suppose some might say it was in my blood. Then again, I have a brother who’s a computer programmer, and a sister who’s a nurse.”
After several thoughtful moments, and a sip of her wine, Lindsey asked, “Did you consider other career options?”
“No, I didn’t.” And he hadn’t. Being like his father had been his dream. “Did you?”
She stared into her glass, gnawing on her bottom lip a long moment before looking at Mark again. “I guess I didn’t.”
Mark crooked his index finger under her chin. “Why do I sense that answer bothers you so much?”
Her eyes widened, and then her chin jerked slightly, her eyes averting from his. “I didn’t mean to turn this into a probe about me.”
Mark moved a little closer to her, sensing her inner turmoil, and wanting to help her calm it. He wasn’t sure what it was about Lindsey, but he felt her pain like his own. His hand moved down the back of her hair. “I’m not probing, just talking.” Perhaps exposing more of his inner workings would help her open up. “I couldn’t work with my father anymore than you could. I wanted to be an attorney, but I learned early on that working with him was impossible.”
Her eyes focused on his, suddenly alert with interest. “You tried working with him?”
He nodded. “I did and that lasted all of thirty days. It was a disaster. I moved to Houston and worked for a firm there until your father recruited me.”
Lindsey tilted her head to the side. “Where is home?”
“Austin.”
“Has it been hard being away from your family?”
“Not really. My brother and sister are married and busy with their lives. My father, well I talk with him often enough, and see him on holidays. We have more in common than you realize⎯you and me. My mother is gone. She died when I was four.”
Pain flashed in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was for him or for her loss. Maybe both. And suddenly he wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. “How?” she whispered.
He paused, hating what came next. “Cancer,” he said softly. “Sorry. Bad subject.”
Lindsey smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She reached up and touched Mark’s jaw. “No worries. I’ve, of course, thought of his death. The other day, when I went to see him, he didn’t look good.” She seemed to fret a moment. “Do you think it is harder to lose someone you are close to or someone you, well, someone you never seem to get it right with?”
He took a sip of his wine and thought about the best way to answer her. “I don’t know, Lindsey, but if you can manage to put your relationship back together with him, this would be a good time to do it.”
A wave of emotion danced in her eyes. “The only way to make things better with him is if I live my life his way.”
Mark sat down his wine glass. “I’m not suggesting you make choices that aren’t your own. Just be careful you don’t make choices just
to defy his control. You’ve had some time away, and deep down you, and you alone, know what you really want. Make him understand and accept your choices.”
Lindsey turned abruptly and tucked her knees to her body, chin on her knees. “That’s just it . . . I don’t know what I want anymore.” She eyed him. “I can’t believe I’m even telling you this.”
His fingers gently touched her cheek. He wasn’t going to comment on what she did or didn’t tell him. He was just glad she was opening up to him. “You don’t have to make decisions right this minute. Give yourself time, but give him time too. Start talking to him about why you feel like you do. The worst that can happen is he doesn’t listen.”
Lindsey looked at him, her eyes probing as they held his. “What do you want from me, Mark?”
It was a vast question that he could have answered so many ways. Simple seemed best. “Nothing you don’t offer freely.”
Her lashes dropped to her cheeks, dark circles against her perfect, ivory skin. When she opened her eyes again, fixing him in a stare, she smiled. “I’m glad I’m here tonight.”
“Me too,” he whispered, and he lowered his mouth towards hers. “I really want to make love to you again, Lindsey.” His lips lingered just above hers. “Can I?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’d like that very much.”
And his mouth covered hers, their kiss one of tenderness, passion, and possibilities.
Chapter Seven
Lindsey woke to the warm feeling of Mark’s strong arms wrapped around her. Nuzzled against his shoulder and chest, his scent wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. Running her hand through his chest hair and down his flat stomach she couldn’t help the satisfied smile that settled on her lips. There was never a time she could remember feeling so perfectly wonderful nor could she remember ever wanting a man the way she did Mark.
Needing her own identity, not wanting to be defined within the confines of a relationship, it had been years since she had even been with a man. Somehow, Mark seemed different than the men in her past. Would things change when he became more comfortable with her?
Was he simply like the rest but with a better disguise?
The dull ringing of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. It was in her purse, which was still in the living room. “Damn,” she murmured as she moved to get out of the bed only to feel Mark’s arms tighten around her.
“Where are you going?” he whispered, half-asleep.
Lindsey smiled and kissed his cheek. “My phone’s ringing. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded. “Hurry back,” he murmured.
Lindsey grabbed Mark’s shirt off the floor, and pulled it over her head. The ringing had stopped, so she didn’t rush. Once in the living room, she sat down on the couch, removed her phone from her purse, and checked the caller ID.
Just as she thought, it had been Steve. Lindsey hit the callback button and he picked up in only one ring. “Listen,” he said without saying hello. “I’ve got some interesting information. There was a string of rapes in Vegas last year that fit the Hudson profile.”
“Really?” Lindsey paused, her mind racing with possibilities. “They fit the Williams profile then, too.”
A moment of silence and then, “Except they were raped, not raped and then murdered.”
At this point, Lindsey was convinced there was reason to check out the possibility of a connection. She dismissed his comment and asked, “What information can you get me?”
“I can give you names, addresses, and general information on the victims, but not much more. I know they have no suspects.”
“When was the last attack?”
“Almost a year ago⎯here’s the odd part⎯not long before the first victim in your case was found.”
Lindsey’s mind raced with options. The possibility of the Hudson and Williams cases being related had just moved to the possible scale. The implications the new knowledge represented made her stomach churn. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Steve’s voice held a warning. “Lindsey, I think you need to turn this information over to the right people. The Williams’ murders were violent. I don’t want you taking crazy risks.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I need some time, Steve, please. Once the prosecutors know about this, I’ll have a much harder time uncovering what is truth and what is colored over.”
“You have a history of pushing beyond what you should. Lindsey, these girls all look like you. I don’t like it.” He made a frustrated sound. “Not one bit.”
Lindsey knew she pushed the envelope. “I’ll be careful. Just give me a couple days.”
He was silent a moment, then in a softer voice, “How long are you going to pay back the world for Hudson? When are you going to forgive yourself?”
She swallowed back the threatening emotion. When she felt she had herself in check, she said, “Give me a few days.”
His hesitation was silent but it reached through the phone line. “Three days and no more, and I want to be kept in the loop. The minute you shut me out, I shut you down.”
Lindsey didn’t like being held captive by Steve or anyone else, but her options were limited. “Fine,” she conceded.
“How about we meet at that coffee shop you love, and I’ll give you what I have. Say,” he paused as if looking at his watch, “in an hour?”
A quick goodbye later, Lindsey hit the end button on her phone, and curled her legs underneath her body. Her thoughts were running wild. Could Hudson and Williams be innocent? She hated to even think such a thing. What if she was wrong?
But what if she wasn’t and she didn’t pursue the real criminal? How many women might die?
“What are you doing?”
Lindsey looked up to see Mark standing a few feet away; dressed in only his boxers, he was a picture of rippling, perfect male. It took her a minute to find her voice. Mark so took her breath away. “Just sitting here thinking.”
He walked to the couch, and her eyes followed his every step. He sat down beside her, and pulled her legs across his lap. It was an intimate, comfortable act that made her smile inside. His hand ran up her bare leg. “You look good in my shirt.”
She smiled and spread one hand on his chest, loving how it felt to touch him so freely. “You look good without it.”
Mark laughed and brushed his lips across hers. “Who was on the phone?”
She drew back slightly, eager to tell him her news, and watch his reaction. “Steve,” she said. “Get this. There was a string of rapes that fit the Hudson and Williams profiles in Vegas last year. They never connected anything to Hudson, of course, because he was in jail.”
“What do you mean they fit both profiles?” he asked. “Be specific.”
“Same exact profile, they all looked . . .” She let her words trail off, wishing she could take back what she had started to say. But it was too late. Mark was no fool. He would guess, or he would insist she explain.
“Like you?” he asked tensely.
“Yes, I suppose they do.” She swallowed back a feeling of sickness. “I wish you wouldn’t put it that way. I was going to say like the local victims.” A pregnant silence followed. Unable to take the wordlessness between them, she said, “Steve is meeting me in less than an hour to give me everything he has on the cases.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You have to get dressed and go to the office. I’ll go by my place and change after I meet Steve.”
Mark’s lips firmed. “I’m going. Besides, we have to be in court at ten o’clock, so it will be just as well to already be together.”
“Five-thirty is the partners’ meeting. You remember?” she asked trying to distract him.
Mark shot her a look that said he knew what she was doing. “I’m coming with you.”
Lindsey felt her temper start to flare. “Mark, don’t start trying to keep me under thumb.”
She tried to move her legs and he held them with his hands. “I saw the way you hopp
ed through that window, Lindsey. I’m worried about you.”
Men who tried to control her got nowhere. Mark included. “You’re starting to really tick me off. Let go of my legs.”
Mark wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his mouth moving just above hers. “If you’re going to get mad because I care, then go ahead. It’s not going to make me back off.”
How he managed to deflate her anger, she wasn’t sure. In its place, a sizzling awareness settled, and when his lips pressed against hers, she was lost. Desire spread inch by inch, like a warm spray of water, rich with depth.
And when he pressed her back into the couch, and she felt his weight settle over hers, she forgot everything but him.
* * * * *
Still flush from the pleasure of their lovemaking, Lindsey scrambled for her clothes. Mark was in the shower, so she had a mere few minutes to make her escape. No way was she taking Mark with her to meet Steve. The last thing she needed was Steve getting all tight-lipped about what he knew.
And just because she and Mark made love, that didn’t mean he was now her sidekick.
If anything, his insistence on joining her only made her more determined to go without him. She liked Mark. Maybe too much. But Mark, or any other man, for that matter, was not going to start controlling her. Been there, done that, already had the t-shirt.
Besides, she would be going home to Washington. That, in and of itself, was a good reason to keep things light. Once dressed, Lindsey quickly scribbled a note to Mark and grabbed her purse before she headed for the door. She paused as she reached for the knob and sighed, a bit of regret filling her mind and making her stomach flutter.
She hated to end their night with this kind of departure. But what option did he leave her?
* * * * *
Mark stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. He had just finished lathering his face with warm shaving cream when he realized how quiet Lindsey had become. A bad feeling made him step into the bedroom. “Lindsey?”
Something moved on the bed, caught in the draft of the ceiling fan. The instant he brought it into focus he cursed, and moved towards the bed. It was a damn note. She’d taken off without him. He grabbed the paper.
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