“Hello, Mr. Flynn.”
He whirled around and saw someone familiar standing in the middle of his living room. The stranger. The businessman from the bar.
Michael reached for his gun, but he already knew it was too late. Three bullets hit his chest. Excruciating heat and pain radiated throughout his body. He was on fire.
His body slammed against the wall and he fell to the floor. Everything moved in slow motion. The stranger walked over to him, light gleaming off his dark blond hair. He shook his head, a half-smile on his face, as he looked down at Michael.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Flynn. It wasn’t in the book, but sometimes, we have to improvise.”
The book. Rowan. Shit, he’d fucked up.
A flash of light-a camera? Maybe it was a tunnel. Yes, a bright tunnel.
Then the world was gone.
CHAPTER 14
John had to force himself to do his job that morning when he and Rowan set out to jog along the beach. He wanted to watch her, but that would be dangerous. He had to watch the houses, watch the ocean, watch for anyone walking on the beach.
He craved her again. If he didn’t know Michael would be at the house by the time they were done running, he might have considered making love to her on the beach. But it would be better if Michael didn’t find out yet what had happened.
John wondered if he could keep his face blank.
After making love the second time, they’d slept a couple of hours. John woke with a start at four in the morning. Rowan was moaning in her sleep, crying out for Dani. He gathered her in his arms and felt a rare sense of peace as she quieted and held on to him. He didn’t want to delve too deeply into his feelings. After all, he didn’t doubt as soon as the murderer was caught that Rowan would go on with her life. And he would go after Pomera.
But his problems, his pain in losing Denny and others to drug-dealing killers like Pomera, seemed pitiful compared to what Rowan had endured every day since she was ten. Even before then. That Rowan had the courage to continue, albeit less than perfectly, gave him additional strength.
Rowan paused at the base of the stairs and took deep, cleansing breaths. She smiled at him, her eyes bright. She seemed almost carefree, and he was pleased he’d given her a little peace after the turmoil of the last two weeks.
“Want to join me for a shower?”
He was already semi-hard just watching her sweat, her small breasts straining against her damp T-shirt. He grabbed her and kissed her passionately, relishing the salty taste of her lips, the sweat on her back, her glow from exercise and the aftermath of good sex.
He quickly broke the embrace. This wasn’t the right place. “Let’s go.” His voice was husky and he cleared his throat.
He didn’t forget his responsibility. He checked out the deck and the house before declaring all was safe. He glanced at his watch. Seven.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” he said.
“Then we’d better get started.” She jogged up the stairs to her bedroom and he followed, locking the door behind him. She stripped in front of him and he could only watch and admire her lean muscles. But all the right places were soft.
“Rowan, I-”
She put a finger to his lips. “Like you said,” she said softly, “we don’t have a lot of time.”
He didn’t miss the double meaning. He didn’t know why it bothered him when she said it, even though he’d been thinking the same thing.
Rowan led him into the shower, relishing the connection they had forged the night before. She’d never felt so wanton, so incredibly desirous.
They began in the shower where she started to wash him, and he took over. She let him. He took the soap in his large, confident hands and rubbed her body until she quivered with more than simple lust. A longing grabbed her, a need to draw out this close intimacy. It was delicate and bright, and like anything new could easily be destroyed.
She didn’t want to lose him.
He rinsed her, kissed her skin until she moaned out loud.
“Rowan,” he whispered in her ear as he pushed her against the tile wall of the shower.
“I want you.” Her voice was low and husky and sounded nothing like her.
He slid into her and she wrapped her legs around him, the wall holding her up. She tasted his rough, unshaven skin and moved to his lips, drawing in his tongue, loving the taste of him, wanting to stay here and forget the world outside. To give him the love she’d never been able to share before. To take his love in return.
They didn’t have a lot of time. She planned to make the most of it.
Her muscles clenched and she groaned into his mouth. She pushed her pelvis hard into his, and he pulled out.
She opened her eyes and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
John picked her up and carried her wet body to the bed. She was more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. She reached up and touched his face, her gesture endearing, and his heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he entered her, watching her face react to his sensual invasion. Her lips parted as she closed her eyes.
“Open your eyes,” he said huskily, and they popped open.
He held her hands above her head and watched her face as he made love to her. As her pleasure mounted, she wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. When her eyes grew hazy with passion, he gathered her up in his arms as he poured himself into her. She climaxed with a moan and murmured his name.
They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing heavily. He pulled the sheet around them, holding her close. He knew they should get up, but he didn’t want to let her go. Not now.
Her hand lay on his chest, over his heart, and he felt her own heart beating against his arm. He brushed a stray lock of wet hair from her face and kissed her forehead.
“I heard you worked for the DEA and quit,” Rowan said after several moments. The change from passion to business surprised him. “I-I guess I’m just curious. What makes you tick.”
She started to move away from him, but he pulled her back close to his side. If she thought she could distance herself from him now, she had another thing coming.
“After five years in Delta Force, I decided I’d had enough and sought one of those cush government jobs.” He tried to laugh, but it fell flat.
“Hmm. And I joined the FBI because I wanted to be Dana Scully.”
A joke? From Rowan? But John didn’t smile. He saw Denny’s empty-eyed death stare as if he’d found his body yesterday.
“I had an idyllic childhood,” he said after a moment. “A regular
He missed his parents. They’d died less than a year apart. His dad from an unexpected heart attack, his mother-John suspected-from a broken heart. That was three years ago, but it still hurt.
“They’re not around anymore?” Rowan asked softly.
“No.” He cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden sorrow that had crept up. “My best friend was Denny Schwartz. He lived down the street and we did everything together. Michael usually came with us, but Denny and I
