Eve. I’m not a helpless child who can be taken from you. I’m tough and mean enough to survive for another fifty years or so.'
'I’m not afraid.'
'The hell you’re not.' He lowered his head, his lips barely touching her own. 'But that’s okay.
You don’t have to say you love me. I can wait.'
'I don’t love you. Not the way you want me to love you.'
'I think you do.' His lips moved back and forth in a gossamer caress. 'But if you don’t, that’s okay too.'
'It’s not okay. It’s all wrong. I’m damaged. No one should know that better than you. You should have someone who—'
'You’re damaged? I’m the one who’s been obsessed for the last ten years.” The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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“It’s not the same. I can’t—'
'Shh.' He moved over her again. 'Don’t think. Don’t analyze. Let everything fall into place.
Enjoy…'
He was gone when she woke.
Emptiness.
Loneliness.
It was stupid. She was acting as if she’d never slept with a man before. Sex, pleasure, departure—it was the way she liked her relationships. No lingering that might interfere with her work.
'Time to get up.' Joe opened the door and came toward the bed. 'It’s almost noon. I called Charlie and he’s on his way back from Azora. He has the photograph.'
She sat upright. 'Are you sure I’ll be able to see it?”
“You can ask Spiro yourself. He’s on his way here.”
“Why?'
'To pick up the doll.'
Of course. 'You called him this morning?'
“As soon as I got up. I told the security guys to let him in.' He went to the closet. 'Hit the shower. I’ll get your clothes. What do you want to wear?'
'Anything. Jeans… a shirt.' She ran into the bathroom and got in the shower. Joe could not have been more cool or businesslike. It was as if last night had never happened. Not that she objected. She would have felt awkward if he’d been any other way. Last night had been too—
she shook her head. She didn’t want to remember how erotic those hours with Joe had been.
'Come on. You need to eat before Spiro gets here.' It was Joe standing outside the glass shower door. 'Hurry.'
'I am hurrying.'
She opened the door, and he enveloped her in a huge bath towel and started patting her dry.
She reached for the towel. 'For God’s sake, I can do that.' His gaze dropped to her breasts. 'I’m enjoying it.' Enjoy.
She felt heat move through her.
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'I brought that blue plaid shirt. I like you in blue. Is that okay?”
“I guess so.' She should stop him. The lazy movement of his hands beneath the soft towel was incredibly arousing. For some crazy reason the act seemed as intimate as sex. She moistened her lips. 'You never told me you liked blue.'
'I never told you a lot of things.' He bent his head and kissed the hollow of her shoulder. 'But I mean to make up for lost time. Want to go back to bed and hear the story of my life?'
Yes, she wanted to go back to bed. 'If you promise to tell it. I’ve never had much luck in getting you to confide in me.'
He chuckled. 'You wouldn’t this time either. We don’t have any time.' He stepped back and handed her the towel. 'Get dressed. I’ll wait outside for you.'
'Now you tell me to get dressed. Why the hell did you come busting in here and make me—'
'I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t going to let you make me a one-night stand.' He smiled. 'You’re not going to be able to focus on me for a little while, but I’m going to be around every minute of your day. Don’t forget it.'
She stared at the door as it closed behind him. How was she supposed to focus on anything else but him? He had brought sensuality back into her life.
She was acting like some nympho. She would not be controlled by either her body or Joe Quinn.
