The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

"Oh, God. Is she--"

"No," Pell answered slowly, "she's okay. She's tied up. That's the problem. I don't know what to do now."

"She still wants to turn you in?"

"Can you believe it?" he asked breathlessly. "I begged her. But she's not right in the head. Like your husband, remember? He kept hurting you even though he knew he'd get arrested. Susan's the same. She can't control herself." He sighed angrily. "I was fair to her. And she cheated me. She spent all the money. I was going to pay you back with it. For the car. For everything you've done."

"You don't have to worry about the money, sweetheart. I want to spend it on us."

"No, I'm going to pay you back." Never, ever let a woman know you want her for her money. And never, ever be in another human being's debt.

He kissed her in a preoccupied way. "But what're we going to do now?"

Jennie avoided his gaze and stared into the sun. "I . . . I don't know, sweetheart. I'm not . . ." Her voice ran out of steam, just like her thoughts.

He squeezed her leg. "I can't let anything hurt us. I love you so much."

Faintly: "And I love you, Daniel."

He took the knife from his pocket. Stared at it. "I don't want to. I really don't. People've been hurt yesterday because of us."

Us. Not me.

She caught the distinction. He could sense it in the stiffening of her shoulders.

He continued, "But I didn't do that intentionally. It was accidental. But this . . . I don't know." He turned the knife over and over in his hand.

She pressed against him, staring at the blade flashing in the sunset. She was shivering hard.

"Will you help me, lovely? I can't do it by myself."

Jennie started to cry. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't think I can." Her eyes were fixed on the rump of the car.

Pell kissed her head. "We can't let anything hurt us. I couldn't live without you."

"Me too." She sucked in breath. Her jaw was quivering as much as her fingers.

"Help me, please." A whisper. He rose, helped her to her feet and they continued to the Lexus. He gave her the knife, closed his hand around hers. "I'm not strong enough alone," he confessed. "But together . . . we can do it together." He looked at her, eyes bright. "It'll be like a pact. You know, like a lovers' pact. It means we're bonded as close as two people can be. Like blood brothers. We'd be blood lovers."

He reached into the car and hit the trunk-release button. Jennie barked a faint scream at the sound.

"Help me, lovely. Please." He led her toward the trunk.

Then she stopped.

She handed him the knife, sobbing. "Please . . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Don't be mad. I can't do it. I just can't."

Pell said nothing, just nodded. Her miserable eyes, her tears reflecting red from the melting sun.

It was an intoxicating sight.

"Don't be mad at me, Daniel. I couldn't stand it if you were mad."

Pell hesitated for three heartbeats, the perfect length of time to hatch uncertainty. "It's okay. I'm not mad."

"Am I still your lovely?"

Another pause. "Of course you are." He told her to go wait in the car.