Cover Your Eyes (Morgans of Nashville 1) - Page 58

“I will.” A deepening frown suggested this effort at candidness wasn’t a natural for him either. “When it comes to Annie she can be nervous.”

“Lots of emotions there, I suppose.”

“Yes.”

“Georgia aside, I will be in court in seventy-two hours.”

His quick laugh was unexpected and had a rusty quality as if he’d not laughed in years. “Would expect nothing less, Ms. Wainwright.” He gulped more coffee. “By the way, Oscar McMillian’s bail was revoked and he’s now charged with assault.”

“I contacted the court and told them I’m off the case.”

“Just wanted you to know, he won’t bother you.”

“Thanks.”

A silence settled and then he rose. “I should go.”

Disappointment flared. “Sure.”

He moved to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

She followed. “Why would someone fake those letters?”

“My guess is someone wanted to get between Annie and her lover. If the lover thought she was unstable then he’d be more inclined to break it off.”

“They were written by a woman.” She arched a brow. “No doubt a woman who loved Annie’s lover as well. Did the DNA say whether or not the second blood sample was male or female?”

The question gave him pause. “A woman.”

“A woman killed Annie?”

“Maybe. Or Jeb killed two women with that tire iron.”

Rachel considered the theory and dismissed it immediately. “What woman hated Annie more than any other?”

“A lot of women didn’t like Annie. Many saw her as a threat.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

“The woman would now have to be in her late forties at least.” She spoke the first name that came to mind. “Margaret.”

“Possible. She would have been sixteen at the time of Annie’s death. And she’s still fit.”

“She adored her sister.”

His eyes flashed with a savvy knowing of a cop who’d seen too much of the dark side of humanity. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“You’ll need more than that in court.”

“I’ll figure this out.”

“Whoever killed those women and attacked me was strong. Quick.”

“The element of surprise offers an advantage.”

She turned the idea of a female killer over and over and the more she did, the greater sense it made. “Lexis might have been tossed off guard by a woman. She’d have delayed before acting and that delay cost her.”

“Help me figure this out?”

The question mark didn’t hide the command woven around the words. “Me? But I’m the enemy.”

The intensity in his eyes softened a fraction. “Perhaps not as bad an enemy as I first thought.”

Electricity snapped between them and a force she’d never known tugged at her. Suddenly, she wanted to touch him. To feel the rough stubble of his chin under her fingertips and against her cheek.

Jesus, Rachel, really? He’s the last guy you should—

Rachel silenced the warning. “Thanks.”

Deke’s gaze ignited with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. She felt devoured by his gaze and he’d not made one step toward her.

He was a man who’d lived his life apart. Out of necessity yes, but also maybe a little out of fear. She understood that fear. The fear of feeling too much. Their kind of emotion was a double-edged sword that cut easily.

But in this moment consequences hovered on a distant horizon far out of sight. She had only now and the tension pulling her toward him.

She took one step. “Stay.”

Nikki’s head pounded as if a hammer clattered against the inside of her skull. She rocked back and forth in her bed, cradling her skull in her hands. She moaned, wishing the pain would stop.

“The pain is back?” Rudy’s voice rumbled like gravel but it soothed her to know he was close.

She glanced up, tears streaming from her eyes. “It hurts. Worse than ever.”

Glass of water in hand, he sat on the side of the bed. “I know it hurts. I know it does. I’ve your medicine.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair, clutching handfuls as if to get a handle on the pain. “It makes my head fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy is better than pain and the anger.” He unfurled a fist, revealing a calloused palm and two pink pills. “Take your medicine like a good girl.”

She released the clumps of hair, took the pills and popped them in her mouth. Like a child, she took the water glass and swallowed a healthy gulp.

Rudy watched her swallow and then took the glass from her. “It won’t be long now before the pain stops. Now lie back and close your eyes.”

She eased back against the pillow, wincing when her head touched the sheet. “It hurts.”

He settled the glass on the nightstand, but kept the pills in his pockets. Once in the beginning, he’d left them behind and had come in to find her ready to eat the entire bottle. “I know. But it will stop.”

Watery eyes stared up at him. “Why does it hurt?”

“It always does.” He tugged the blanket up from the foot of the bed and covered her, tucking the end under the mattress.

“But why?” Hers was the voice of a child.

There’d been a time when he’d tried to explain about the headaches and why she could get so angry, but his explanations had left her confused and upset. So he’d stopped answering and let the pills simply do their job. “Doesn’t matter why, Nikki. Just matters that I can take the pain away.”

She looked up at him, her gaze not focusing on his face. “Thank you.”

His bushy mustache twitched over yellowed teeth into a smile. “Sure. Anything for my girl.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, took her hand in his as he had a thousand times before and waited silently until her breathing slowed and the tension eased from her brow.

Only when she’d fallen into a deep sleep did he rise and move to the door. His gaze lingered on her sleeping form; a long time before he shut off the light.

For so long he’d never questioned what he’d done all those years ago. However, age and time had stirred up doubts that haunted him. What if he’d made a terrible mistake?

April 1

I scare you, don’t I? I could see the way you slide me those looks when we meet in public. We don’t exchange a word, but there is fear in your eyes. Good.

A.

Chapter Eighteen

Thursday, October 20, 9:30 PM

The look in Deke’s eyes told Rachel she’d effectively jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He released the door handle and cupped her face in his hands. Slowly, he smoothed his thumb over her jawline. The touch sent a shock through her body.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

Don’t be a fool!

Ignoring the warning, she relaxed into the kiss, savoring the sensual explosions. Her hand pressed to his chest and she realized this was the moment to choose. Jump or dive. Stop thinking and simply feel. She chose to dive into the emotions.

She fisted his shirt in her fingers and pulled him closer, allowing herself this purely carnal pleasure. He wrapped a strong arm around her and pressed her body against his. She arched into him as his hand trailed up under her shirt and cupped her breast. When he fingered her taut nipple she moaned.

He pulled back and stared into her gaze, searching.

She moistened swollen lips. “The bedroom is upstairs.”

His gaze darkened as she took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. He kissed her as he backed her up toward the bed. When her legs bumped the edge of the mattress, he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head. A dark smile curved the edges of his lips as he stared at round breasts swelling over lace cups.

He removed his shirt as she kicked off her shoes and loosened the side zipper on her pants. When the zipper released,

the pants slid over smooth skin to pool around her ankles.

His chest bore several tattoos. Tribal markings covered a right bicep in a half sleeve. Latin words scripted across his lower belly read Veritas, justitia, Libertas and translated into truth, justice, and liberty. A thick scar slashed across his bicep. All told a story that stirred questions she’d likely never ask.

Naked, both kissed as he eased her to the bed. He smoothed a rough hand over her flat belly. “So soft,” he muttered.

She pushed against him encouraging him to explore. His eyes darkened as his hand traced under her small breasts. When he cupped her and his callouses rubbed the soft skin of her nipple she hissed in a breath. He loomed over and kissed her lips. She threaded trembling fingers through his short hair and arched into him.

Even as desires grew from embers to flames, the drumbeat of warnings sounded in her head. She didn’t know how to give and then walk away. But to expect more than this moment was begging for heartache.

The worries were drowned out by a new wash of desire as he settled between her legs.

The next few minutes were a haze of sensation as he touched her, kissed her bare skin, and coaxed her carefully veiled emotions into the light. She’d not allowed herself this kind of pleasure for a long, long time and realized she was half-starved for touch.

Rachel smoothed her hands over his muscled back, feeling him tense to her touch. When he entered her, she sucked in a breath as flesh expanded. He hesitated, watched her gaze, as she slowly adjusted to him.

Tags: Mary Burton Morgans of Nashville Suspense
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