“Okay,” she whispered.
He inhaled slowly before he rolled over on the bed and stood. He went to the window and stared out at the gray lake for a moment. Sophie could almost feel his mind churning. His muscles looked rigid and tight, as though they strained against the weight of his anxiety. She suddenly understood perfectly his overwhelming need to make love. It was only during the brief period of time afterwards that she’d felt his muscles relax.
“But maybe you’re right. We should leave here,” he said.
She came up on her elbows. “Does anyone know you’re here, Thomas?”
“The Dolans. And your friend Lancaster.”
“I doubt they pose a threat. And no one would associate us being together, would they? We were only together for the first time last week, and surely no one saw us that might plan to harm you. But you just mentioned Andy and the Dolans . . . I thought you’d called your family—”
“I never got around to it,” he said, his face still turned toward the window. “My cell phone is useless without a battery.”
She hesitated, wary of his volatile mood.
“Thomas . . . I told you that you could use my phone to contact them. Why haven’t you?”
He didn’t turn toward her, but she saw how he went utterly still.
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“Thomas?” she whispered.
“I don’t want to speak with them,” he said after a moment.
“Why not?”
When he turned his chin toward the bed, his eyes looked flat and lifeless.
“I just don’t. Is the lake house property under your name, Sophie?”
She inhaled shakily, aware that a crucial moment had come and gone, but unsure as to whether she was relieved or regretful of its passing.
“No. As a matter of fact, it’s still listed under my father’s name—my father’s stage name. I don’t think we’re in any danger while we’re here. But, Thomas . . . if what you said about Bernard Cokey is true, we need to contact the FBI.”
“I’m not telling the Feds what that little weasel Cokey said about my father,” he said in a hollow voice.
Sophie rose from the bed and hastily grabbed her robe, flinging it over her shoulders and tying the sash.
“But if what you’re saying is true, then you’re in danger, Thomas. What about those agents you mentioned? Maybe we should try to call—”
She paused when he turned fully toward her, a nude, beautiful male animal poised to pounce. But Sophie didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped toward him slowly, wishing like hell she knew what he was thinking behind those shuttered eyes. If she’d tried to guess his thoughts at the moment, however, it turned out she would have been dead wrong.
“Do you really think it’s possible?” he asked.
“For your father to be the head of a crime syndicate?”
“No,” he replied, his nostrils flaring, “for someone to fall for someone else so fast?”
Her lower lip dropped in surprise. Had he been referring to her telling him that she loved him? Or had he been referring to himself?
She stepped close and cupped his jaw in her palm.
“All I can do is go by personal experience,” she said softly.
He turned his chin and rubbed his whiskers against her skin, making her shiver.
“I wish I could trust my personal experience at the moment,” he said in such a low rumble that she drew closer to him in order to hear him. He gave her a brooding glance before he dropped his forehead to hers. “All I know is that I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want you. I can’t seem to make it stop.”