“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He took her plate, setting it on the nightstand and moved closer to her at the head of the bed.
“Do you trust me, Darby?”
“About as far as I can throw you.” A nervous laugh escaped from her throat. He looked so serious. She could only see his mouth, wait for his body to connect with hers…and feel totally guilty she wasn’t searching for the package.
“The information could be in the next room,” she said, in an attempt to distract him—Michael wasn’t safe yet. That smoldering look had been replaced with outright passion. Very hard to ignore.
“I need you to trust me, hon.” He spoke, but seemed more intent on touching her legs and moving his hand up to her hip. The heat of his flesh burned through the thin material.
“For some illogical reason, I’ve trusted you this far. If it’s about Michael, you can just tell me.”
“Whatever we find, remember that.”
He towed her into his arms and kissed her slowly. The heat penetrated everywhere. The tingles felt deep in her belly and shot straight through her chest. A mixture of tough guy and tender lover. A lasting kiss worthy of any movie farewell.
Why him? Why this feeling? There wasn’t time to think about it as the kiss ended and he looked into her eyes. He saw past whatever barrier had been there for other men. He saw…her.
Totally confused, she didn’t know why the conversation had turned to trusting him instead of where the package might be found. But then, maybe he felt guilty. “If this is about us sleeping together, I don’t have any regrets.”
“Neither do I. Just remember, okay?”
She nodded even though she still didn’t know why she was agreeing. Whatever the problem was, she needed to march into the other room and find Michael’s picture and the next clue.
“Guess it’s time to go back to work,” he said. “I saw the pictures in the other bedroom. You ready to look through the mess now?”
“Not a problem.” Had he kissed her to distract her? If so, it was a nice habit to develop. And no, she wouldn’t be all right seeing the little bit of family history she had left, broken and torn all over the floor. But she’d handle it… for Michael.
Erren stood and she immediately missed his touch.
His scrubs hung low on his hips, leaving nothing to her imagination after this afternoon. If they could find the package and deliver the information—maybe without distractions—something longer than one night could develop between them.
It was a much better plan.
It wasn’t her favorite plan. She’d prefer spending an unlimited time secluded in this candlelit room with her new lover.
“Michael’s stuff is in the garage.” She sighed, forcing the sexy images from her mind. “You saw my photos in the front bedroom.”
Would she ever be ready to look through any of it? When she’d found the ruined photos, her first thought was of losing her mother again.
“Since Michael hasn’t been here at the house, let’s check his box of things first.” He stretched his arms above his head, a casual move that shouldn’t have mesmerized her.
She stared, loving the way the candlelight flickering across his tanned skin turned him into a golden Adonis. She needed to get him into some clothes, before she lost control. “Michael could have brought the package here any time. He picked the lock at my old apartment once.”
“Or he could’ve hidden it with your things prior to your move.”
“I can’t believe we’ve been running around in circles for two days and the package was here all along.”
“Why? Neither of us knew anything about the situation. Or each other.” He gestured for her to get up. “I think we’ve done okay, all things considered.”
“The pieces were there. I can’t understand why it took me so long to fit them together. What if it’s
“You sure have a crazy lack of self-esteem, Detective O’Malley. Weren’t you the one who just figured out we should be looking
She jumped from the bed, suddenly conscious of her bare bottom. Maybe it had been his calling her “detective.” Maybe it was just thinking about clearing her brother. She pulled out clean underwear, jeans, a T-shirt, turned her back and pulled on the clothes. She couldn’t search for Michael’s picture wearing a thong.
When she faced him again, the pants had slipped lower on his hips, the definition of each muscle calling to be caressed. Honestly, she had to get him covered, or she’d never be able to focus on anything else.
“I stored the box with Michael’s stuff out in the garage.” She led the way, leaving the lights off in the kitchen. “The box was in the corner by the hot-water heater. There should at least be a shirt we can grab for you to wear.”
“You’ve seen me with my shirt off.” He was following close behind her. When she stopped to open the door, he trapped her in his arms against it. He leaned in close, whispering next to her ear, nipping her lobe. “There’s no reason to be uptight now.”
He continued his nibbling down her neck and she continued to melt.
“We…um…” She halfway pushed at his shoulders. “We need to find Pike’s information.”
“Sure. I’ll get the box.” He reached around her and opened the door. “By the hot-water heater?”
“Yeah, it’s not big.”
He stepped into the darkness and she dropped her head against the wall. He was a definite distraction. Michael may be safe, but it was only temporary. She had to find Pike’s information and make certain it was delivered to Thrumburt or whoever else may need it. No matter how much she wanted to stay and enjoy time with Erren, her first responsibility was to her family.
“We should take it back to the bedroom,” he said, leading the way.
“When I moved, this box had a set of clothes, a couple of CDs and books. Nothing else,” she said, back in the bedroom.
They were using a candle and flashlight to see, casting strange shadows on the walls. Erren set the box on the floor and popped the tape, looking inside.
“Looks like the same stuff. Man, is that a Bowling for Soup shirt? Nice band. I won’t mind hanging in that for a while.” He popped his head and arms through the opening.
So maybe she could focus now.
They each picked up a book and thumbed through the pages.
“And the pants?” she asked as casually as she could manage.
“Probably a fit.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. “Are you worried you won’t be able to keep your paws off me?”
There was nothing quick about her reaction to him. Each touch created a slow burn of need from somewhere that had never been tapped before. It built into a five-alarm fire. And she called upon those imaginary fire trucks to put out the flames.
She had to. Her family depended on her.
There wasn’t a microbe left in the box. She ignored his comment—and the kiss—and handed him the CD cases. “I listened to this music before I moved. Pike’s info isn’t here. You saw the box of pictures in the front bedroom.”
“I’ll get it,” he said. “Cut the light. No need to notify anyone watching the place we’re here.”
“We can’t move that mess.” She turned the flashlight off and followed—glad she couldn’t see much of his muscular outline. She’d love to stay in bed to look at family pictures instead of sleuthing through them for clues. Getting to know this man under normal circumstances was very appealing.
It had been nice to forget the responsibility for a little while, as she had this afternoon. The dreams she’d had after they’d made love had been much more enjoyable than the little green monsters she’d imagined yesterday. If she could hold those monsters at bay until Michael could tell the truth, she might be able to dream a bit more with a certain DEA agent.
