appear.
“I just put my foot in my mouth, didn’t I?” he said at her silence.
“No, it’s okay.” She glanced down at the depleting bubbles and then reached out to pull an armful of them back toward her. “But it was a long time ago.”
William’s hand dipped back into the water, and this time his knuckles brushed against her butt. She gasped and grew still.
He stopped. “Is something wrong?”
There was no way she was going to tell him the Chinese characters spelled his name. She squeezed her eyes tight and came up with another lie. “Love.” “Humph.” He started scrubbing again. “I never figured you to be the tattoo type.” “I guess you don’t know me as well as you think.” “I don’t know.” He chuckled. “I know you pretty well. And it’s a good thing, too, or you’d still be at Keystone.” She nodded. “Good point.” The small talk ended, and the heavy silence returned.
William washed the back of her neck, between her shoulder blades, and worked a trail down her spine. Everywhere his hand went her skin tingled in its wake, and it was growing harder to pretend to be unaffected.
“Okay. That ought to do it.” He placed the soap in its dish on the accessory deck, dipped the cloth into the water several times, and then rinsed off her back. “Thanks,” she said. Her gaze remained downcast while he climbed back onto his feet. “You don’t have to keep thanking me, Josie. I’m glad to be able to help.” He grabbed a large body towel. “Hold on while I go get that chair before we get you out of there.” He disappeared into the bedroom, but returned quickly.
However, getting into the tub was nothing compared to getting out, and Josie’s embarrassment deepened at the amount of water she splash. Through it all, he remained gracious.
After successfully being transported to a small wrought-iron chair with her towel draped around her, William set out a robe close to her and gave her a few minutes alone to dry herself and apply the supplied bottles of lotions and creams.
Though William was out of sight, Josie suspected he remained close in case she experienced some sort of episode. She appreciated and hated it at the same time.
She sighed, confused about her mixed emotions. How many years had she wished that their path would cross again? Now, through some truly bizarre happenstance, here he was.
In her dreams, she’d envisioned he would spot her at a CD signing or promotional gig. She would boast about her successful career and her wonderful marriage.
But her life hadn’t gone as planned. Nowhere near it. Because of a series of polyps on her vocal cords, her singing career was over before it really began. After three moderately successful CD releases, Josephine Ferrell’s singing career had ended.
Her music never garnered the big crossover audience in America, but she was close. She was sure of that. And Etienne. She didn’t want to think about it.
“How are we doing in there?” he called out from the bedroom.
“So far so good.” She injected pleasantness into her voice and hurried to finish massaging lotion onto her elbows. A few minutes later, garbed in a large, fluffy robe, Josie gave William the okay to rejoin her.
“All righty, then. Let’s get this thing started.” He flashed her a smile as he entered with a pitcher, and then gathered more towels.
His return immediately wrecked Josie’s calm reserve. In retrospect, he’d always had that effect on her. And she had always enjoyed it.
William positioned her and the chair in front of the sink and gave it enough room so she could comfortably lean her head back over the sink. Since she couldn’t get her entire head under the immobile faucet, William filled the pitcher with water, and then used it to wet the areas that wouldn’t reach.
“Seems like you’ve done this before,” Josie commented. She closed her eyes and loved the feel of his strong fingers as they massaged her scalp.
The sound of his light chuckle washed lazily over her. “I guess you can call me a veteran.”
Josie instantly thought of his wife and as a result ended her feelings of euphoria. “Your wife is a lucky woman,” she said before she could stop herself.
William’s fingers froze for an eternal second and then resumed. “I used to do this with my
“Sorry. I didn’t know.” There was no denying the rush of relief she experienced after his confession, but now a series of questions strolled through her head.
“No way you could’ve, I guess.” He reached for the bottle of shampoo. “It’s been almost two years.”
She detected sorrow in his voice, and a low level of jealousy stirred within her.
They fell silent while his fingers worked up a good lather. It was nearly impossible for Josie to stop her toes from curling or prevent the soft moans from escaping her lips. “Glad you’re enjoying this,” he commented, with another chuckle. “How can I not?” she said. A lazy smile curled her lips. “You have great hands.” “I think you might have told me that before.” “Oh, yeah.” An embarrassed Josie remembered. “How could I have forgotten?” “Beats me.” William chuckled. She smiled but couldn’t combat the sudden chill that crept from her toes and slowly transformed her body into a giant glacier. “Josie, are you all right?” She heard him, but couldn’t get her teeth to stop chattering long enough to answer. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He shut off the water, wrapped a towel around her head, and then helped her to lean forward.
Her shivers turned into violent convulsions, but Josie felt William’s arms slide beneath her and she was aware of him taking her back into the bedroom. When he placed her on the bed, she thought her soul was being lifted from her body. The experience frightened her.
William quickly piled blankets on her. All the while, he whispered words of comfort in her ear. “Just ride it out, Josie. I’m here for you.”
His words filled Josie’s head. Hope fluttered inside her chest, but another part of her was too afraid to believe him.
However, the eighteen-year-old Josie, the part that still fantasized about that one magical summer in Paris, railed against her defensive mantra. This was William, after all. He hurt her once, and he could do it again.
Chapter 16 A feathery kiss brushed against Ming’s cheek, and she woke with a soft moan. Her husband, Conan, smiled down at her. “Why don’t you come to bed? I want something warm beside me tonight.” Ming sat up and stretched out her arms as she let loose a wide yawn. “What time is it?” “Three o’clock.” Conan placed his large hands against her shoulders and began an impromptu massage. “Ah, you’re looking to have sex.” Ming chuckled and closed the case notes she’d fallen asleep on. “I should’ve known.”
“Yeah. It’s about that time of year.” Conan leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “One of these days I’m going to get you to leave your work at the office.”
“I think better at home.”
“All right then. Maybe we should start having sex at the police station.”
Ming laughed as she stood and looped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck. “Definitely not one of your better ideas.”
“Oh, I have some ideas.” He captured her lips in a tantalizing kiss as he slid his hands down her backside and gave her butt a gentle squeeze.
Ming sighed and wiggled her rump playfully against him before she came up for air. “If you were going to kidnap a person from a mental institution, how would you do it?”
“What?” Conan frowned at the question thrown in from left field. “What are you talking about?”
“This case I’m working on.” She turned from him and sat back down at the table to reopen her notes. “Whoever took Michelle Andrews from Keystone had to be either the luckiest bastard in Georgia or the smartest. They were able to get in, take a body, and leave without anyone seeing a thing. What are the chances of that?”
