Dead By Morning

yours.” She refused to look directly at him. “I should go back to my room.”

When she turned and headed for the door, Derek got up and followed her, catching up with her just as she reached for the door handle.

He laid his hand on her shoulder. She tensed.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he said. “There’s been some sort of sexual tension between us since the day we met. That kiss was a good thing. It defused the tension, so we don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

She glanced over her shoulder, right into his eyes, and saw the truth. Who was he trying to kid? He was lying. They both knew it. That kiss hadn’t defused a damn thing. The exact opposite was true.

“Right,” she said, agreeing with his lie.

He reached around her, his arm brushing her side as he opened the door. She offered him a weak, we’re-fine smile and walked out into the hall.

“See you in the morning,” he said.

“Yeah, see you in the morning.”

He stepped out into the hall and watched her until she disappeared into her room. Then he went back into his room and closed and double locked the door.

Cursing under his breath, calling himself every kind of fool, he stomped across the carpeted floor and went outside on the patio. After taking several deep gulps of fresh nighttime sea air, he sat down in one of the lounge chairs and looked out over the ocean.

Time for some hard truths, buddy boy.

He was attracted to Maleah. Not just her pretty blond looks or her hourglass-shaped body. He liked that she was smart and independent and aggressive. Hell, he even liked the way she stood up to him, challenged him, and wouldn’t let him get away with anything.

Maleah was her own woman. She wasn’t waiting for some man to come along and make all her dreams come true. She didn’t expect a future husband to provide her with everything his money could buy. Not like Happy, who had married his father for his family’s vast wealth and proceeded to make the man’s life a living hell. At least that’s the way he remembered his parents’ marriage. And not like his sister Diana, who had jilted the guy she had really loved in order to marry the man Happy had chosen for her. A man with the right pedigree, social standing, and bank account.

Maleah was nothing like his mother or his sister. And maybe that was the reason he liked her so much. Too damn much.

You’ve got to let this thing go. You may want her . . . hell, she may even want you . . . but it just won’t work. Not for either of you.

Okay, so things would be a bit awkward in the morning, but if they both just pretended it had never happened . . . But could they? Could he forget what it felt like to have her in his arms, how much he wanted far more than just a heated kiss? Even now, his body still wanted her.

How would Maleah feel about having sex? No strings attached. No deep, long-lasting emotions involved. Just screwing until they worked “it” out of their systems.

It? Primitive desire. Animal hunger. Lust. Call “it” whatever you want.

Maleah sure as hell wasn’t the first woman he’d ever wanted that way and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. But . . .

But Maleah wasn’t just any woman and that was the problem.

Derek mumbled a few self-loathing obscenities as he got up, went inside and undressed for bed.

The Inn Steinhof, located in downtown St. Jakob, possessed the old world charm one associated with rural Austria. The three-story white building provided spacious, comfortable en suite rooms. Breakfast was provided and dinner was available for an additional charge. There were tables outside for shaded summer seating and a small bar and grill was located on the main floor, just off the lobby area. Upon arrival, Luke had done as Henri Fortier had instructed and left a message for Aldo Finster, whom Luke had been told was away hiking and would return the following day.

Long ago, Luke had learned the value of patience.

And so he had waited for Finster to return to the hotel. Half an hour ago, one of the maids had delivered a note from Finster, inviting Luke to meet him in the lobby in an hour.

When Luke arrived in the lobby, he casually scanned the area, and in less than a minute, spotted the person he assumed was Finster. He was a small, plump, balding gentleman in his late forties, his blue eyes appearing quite large behind a pair of thick bifocals.

Luke approached the man. “Herr Finster?”

“Yes, I am Aldo Finster.” He smiled. “And you are Mr. Sentell.” He held out his hand.

Luke shook hands with Finster.

“You are enjoying your stay in St. Jakob?” Finster asked.

Luke nodded.

“Will you be here long?” he asked.

Finster’s command of the English language was excellent, although his accent was quite pronounced.

“Long enough,” Luke replied.

Finster nodded. “I know an excellent restaurant just down the street. A short walk. Shall we go now?”

Luke nodded again.

Once they exited the hotel, Finster said, “You know Henri Fortier, I believe.”

“Yes, I know Henri.”

“He suggested you ask me to put you in contact with a tour guide, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I know someone who would be perfect for you, Mr. Sentell. He has an excellent reputation for providing tourists with whatever they want.”

“Then you can arrange for me to meet this tour guide.”

“Most certainly. There will be a small fee, of course.”

“Name your price.”

“Sixty-two thousand euro.” Finster continued walking, his smile widening as he glanced at Luke.

“This guide must be exceptional.” Luke paused.

Finster stopped and looked squarely at Luke. “I can assure you that his knowledge of Austria is priceless.”

“Then by all means, make the arrangements as soon as possible.”

“You understand that this will be a cash transaction,” Finster said.

“I’ll have your money for you in a couple of hours.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Finster began walking again. “Perhaps we should forgo lunch today while we each attend to business.”

Maleah had ordered coffee, cold cereal, and fresh fruit for breakfast and her meal was served promptly at eight. She was already dressed and ready when the waiter delivered her food. So far that morning, Derek hadn’t gotten in touch with her. She suspected he was putting off the inevitable, just as she was.

Grow up, will you. It was just a kiss.

Yeah, but what a kiss.

As she sipped on her second cup of coffee—she had practically inhaled the first cup—she eyed her phone lying on top of her packed suitcase alongside her shoulder holster.

Go ahead and call him.

And say what?

Say good morning. Ask what time he wants to leave the hotel. Suggest that we should drive straight back to Vidalia, Georgia, to prepare for my next interview with Jerome Browning.

There was no reason to mention the kiss. Derek probably wouldn’t say anything about it. No doubt he wanted to forget that it had happened just as much as she did. But the problem was could either of them ever forget?