Carnal Sin

And she wanted to; she wanted to run far away from Rafe’s feelings. From what he wanted from her. Emotions overwhelmed her, his and hers. Fear. Desire. A deep yearning for something intangible, a freedom neither of them had. Her stomach fluttered and she returned his kiss, mirroring Rafe’s passion with her own deep longing.

His body pressed against hers, pushing her against the truck. Her hands were on his shoulders, and her mind told her to push him away, that now was not the time to do this, she couldn’t think and she had to focus. The club. The demon. The men who’d died.

But she couldn’t think, Rafe’s need becoming her own, drawing out of her everything she’d been denying him, denying herself. From the minute she first laid eyes on him, unconscious, dressed in stolen medical scrubs, huddled in the corner of an abandoned cabin, she’d been irrevocably part of him as he was of her, far more than two demon hunters trying to undo the damage her witch of a mother had done.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as his mouth dove deeper into hers, his tongue mimicking lovemaking, and every cell in her body warmed to the brink of combustion.

Moira let the heat flow within her, Rafe’s hard, athletic body pressed firmly against hers, his leg maneuvering between hers, the friction making her shudder and cling to him. Her mind was mush, her body did all the thinking for her, and its thoughts were focused on one thing: getting naked with Rafe.

His hands were under her shirt, rubbing her bare back, while he kissed her in that one spot behind her ear that he’d discovered earlier, the erotic soft spot that made her melt when his tongue fought it.

The sound of a distant car made her jump and she looked around, disoriented. They were making out in an L.A. parking garage in the middle of the day. Did they lust for each other so much they lost all sense of time and place?

Lust.

She pushed him away, not meaning to push hard, but he jumped back. His breathing was as uneven as hers.

“We can’t do this.”

“Moira, you can’t deny the way we feel about each other. Don’t even try; you’ll be lying.”

“It’s not real.”

He froze, energy rippling under his muscles. “What?” His voice was low but the anger rolled off him, so dark it was nearly visible.

“We’re near the club. It’s the influence of the demon. We both think it’s Lust here.”

“Bullshit. I can’t believe you’re using the demon as an excuse for your feelings!”

“I’m not! I just can’t think; that’s not like me.”

“Maybe because you’re overthinking.”

“Stop!”

“What are you scared of?”

She turned away and walked briskly down the ramp toward the street. Scared? What wasn’t she scared of?

“Moira!” Rafe followed her.

“Leave it alone.”

“No.”

She spun around and pushed him. Though she was strong, he didn’t budge. “I can’t do this now! I need my senses, all of them, under my control, and when you push me like this, I lose control. I feel raw, open, and exposed. I can’t let it overwhelm me. Please. Just leave it.”

On the verge of tears, she turned around so he couldn’t see her face.

He said nothing for a long minute. Moira worked on controlling her breathing, stuffing her feelings deep inside, focusing on her sixth sense, the sense that felt magical energy. The sense that felt what no one else could see.

He touched her shoulders gently and whispered in her ear, “I understand.”

Somehow, that admission unnerved her more than their argument.

“But I want you to know that this isn’t simple lust. Together, we have far more than a physical attraction. We’ll talk about it more. Sooner rather than later.” He kissed the back of her neck, and Moira almost leaned against him. Almost gave in to a moment of bliss that she didn’t deserve. Rafe understood her. No one else did. No one else even tried.

But she didn’t give in to temptation. How could she when so much was at stake? When at risk was not only her life, but the lives of scores of innocents?

Rafe dropped his hands and led the way out of the parking garage.

NINE

Grant sat in the interview room at police headquarters with Nina Hardwick, a plump, attractive woman in her late thirties. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have given the hysterical woman more than two minutes of his time, but Nina Hardwick was not a typical woman. She was a well-respected lawyer for the Board of Supervisors, and they’d crossed paths several times over the years.

Nina had always seemed by-the-book. That she’d admitted to an affair with the married George Erickson, regardless of his open marriage arrangement, surprised Grant. But his bewilderment turned to shock when Nina made strong accusations against her dead lover’s wife.

“Pamela Erickson killed George,” Nina said. “You can’t let her get away with it!”

Sitting across the table from her, he tried for sincerity. “Nina-it’s okay that I call you Nina?”

She looked down her nose at him. “Cut the good-cop crap, Grant, I think we’re past the formalities. I’m not crazy.”

“Mrs. Erickson has a solid alibi.”

“I don’t care if she was at a dinner with the governor, president, and pope! She killed him as sure as I graduated summa cum laude from USC. She doesn’t have to actually be there to kill him, right? She could have poisoned him, or hired someone, or-”

Grant cut her off, “I just came from the autopsy.” He had a hundred things to do and the day was nearly over. And while he’d certainly go over Erickson’s case again, he had nothing that pointed to Pamela Erickson as a killer. “There are no physical signs of foul play. We should know more after the weekend. If he was poisoned, we’ll know from the bloodwork. Full panel.”

She dismissed his comments with a regal wave of her unadorned hand. “You don’t get it, Grant. She doesn’t need to poison him. She’s a witch.”

Grant rubbed his temple. “Nina, it’s been a long day and I just came from the morgue. Pamela Erickson has an alibi, and I have her on security camera, not just a witness. Jeff and I have talked to half a dozen people who confirmed that the Ericksons had an open marriage. I haven’t talked to everyone on the list, but by Monday I don’t expect to learn anything different. You were having an affair with him, I can understand why you’re upset, but there were signs he was with a different woman last night.”

She slammed her hand on the table. “He wasn’t!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Were you with George last night?”

She stared at him, obviously stunned. “What?” She shook her head. “Grant Nelson, I swear-”

“I’m a cop, Nina. You just admitted to an affair with a married man and are accusing his wife of murder. We know he was with someone last night, someone who walked out while he was dead or dying. Was that you?”

She stifled a sob. “No.”

“I assume you have an alibi,” he said softly.

“I was in Sacramento for the last two days. County business. My flight came into Burbank at eleven-thirty this morning. I heard about George on the noon news as I was driving to the office.”

Pretty damn solid, Grant thought, even though he hadn’t believed for a second that Nina had killed Erickson. “Nina, if he cheated on his wife with you, he could have cheated on you with someone else. Believe me, I know what I speak about. I wasn’t faithful to my ex-wife, or my mistress.”