His blood on fire.
Her mouth slid along the length of him, her tongue slick and hot and persuasive.
Rebecca? He saw her face, though his eyes were closed; her image held for a second, then faded, but the sensations, sexual and thrilling, continued to consume him.
The heat.
The wet.
The need.
Pressure mounted, and just when he thought he could no longer hold back, she was atop him, riding low over his hips, but moving gently . . . so moist . . . so hot . . . moving faster and faster, with the rise in his heartbeat and his breaths . . . Oh, God, oh, God, ooooh . . .
He bucked upward, straining.
A spasm jolted his body.
Then another and another.
He groaned with the release.
His hips dropped against the mattress.
Pain ripped through his rib cage.
What?
His eyes flew open as the woman slid off him.
No dream.
No hallucination from medication.
This woman was in bed with him.
The room was nearly dark, the barest light coming through the partially closed shades, and for a second, he was disoriented. He wasn’t home, he wasn’t in the hospital, but he was . . . oh, holy shit! He fumbled for the bedside lamp, found a switch, and the dark room was suddenly awash in warm light.
Sophia, naked, was now pressed warm next to him, her blond hair tousled, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Good morning,” she whispered and tried to pull the cover back over him.
“What’re you doing here?”
He blinked, trying to orient himself. Not home. Not the hospital. Oh, right. The inn.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Her smile was beguiling as she stretched her arms over her head and tossed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the back of her neck, where a few freckles usually hid behind her thick blond tresses.
“I mean . . .” He pushed himself away from her, putting distance between them on the bed. “Why are you here?”
“You invited me.”
That didn’t sound right. “When?”
“Last night. While you were at the front desk checking in . . . I was closing up the bar and looked into the lobby where you were standing with Bobby. You caught my eye and gave me the signal.”
“What signal?”
“The nod, which meant I was to come up, so I did.”
He didn’t remember that. Was she lying?
She arched a coy eyebrow. “Aren’t you glad?”
“Yes . . .” Was there any other answer?
Leaning on both elbows, she cocked her head, her hair falling over a naked shoulder to brush the top of one breast.
Her smile faded a bit. “You don’t remember?”
He could recall walking into the hotel and still being in a bad mood. His house was a disaster, his computer, laptop, iPad, and phone all missing, compliments of the police; he was under suspicion in Megan Travers’s disappearance, and he couldn’t recall seriously important pieces of his life. He did remember that he’d found Rebecca Travers in his house, though, that and the fact that he’d consumed two—or was it three?—drinks in quick succession had probably contributed mightily to the headache that was pounding behind his eyes.
“Oh. Well . . .” She eased to the side of the bed and actually blushed. “I’ll leave.”
“Look, I’m just messed up.”
“I was hoping to help with that.” She glanced at him but, when she realized he wasn’t going to tell her to stay, reached for her clothes. “I thought maybe I could take care of you while you were recuperating.” She slid into a skimpy bra, then pulled a thong up over her shapely legs before standing and snapping it into place over a perfectly round rump.
She was beautiful.
Gorgeous.
A fact, he was certain, she was very aware of.
“I would’ve stayed with you at your house, or you could have bunked at my apartment.” She tugged a gray turtleneck over her head, then pulled her hair out of the neckline. “You could use some help, someone to take care of you.”
“I’ll be okay.”
She shimmied into a short black skirt. “If you stay here, I suppose.”
“I do have a house.”
She was fastening her hair back into a ponytail. “But I heard it’s a wreck.”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed.”
She glanced at his sling, left on the side of the bed.
“Well, eventually, I’ll be able to handle it,” he said.
“And in the meantime? You lucked out that there was an unoccupied room here, but I checked, and the inn is booked up. Solid. Until the week after New Year’s. So are you going to throw out paying customers to keep this room?”
“Someone will cancel.”
“If you say so. But the invitation’s open. You can come to my place, and I’ll look after you, and when your house is ready and you’re, you know, better, maybe not using a sling for your arm, you can go home. Or any time, for that matter.”
The offer made sense, but he didn’t want to commit.
She saw his indecision. “Hey, fine. Do what you want.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she slid one foot into a knee-high boot, wincing a little as she forced her foot into the leather. “I was just trying to help.” She zipped up the first boot, then did the same with the second, before reaching for a wool coat that she had tossed over the back of the single chair in the bedroom. “But if you don’t want it, that’s cool.” As she wound a red scarf around her neck, she flashed a quick, knowing smile. “I’ll see ya,” she promised, as she bent over the bed to look him directly in his eyes. “Let me know if you need anything. Anything.”
“I will.”
She kissed him lightly, then straightened and, without another word, opened the door to the living area and swept past Ralph, who’d been lying on the other side. The dog barely glanced up as James heard the click of the front door close behind her.
He didn’t know whether he felt relief or disappointment or a little bit of both.
CHAPTER 14
The Isolated Cabin
Cascade Mountains
Washington State
December 15
There
