"Yes."
"Toilet paper?"
She smiled. "Your mother is a thorough and gracious hostess. I even have a candy dish I stocked with little candy bars."
"Oh well, then I guess you've got everything."
"Mm-hmm."
"But if you need anything else…"
"I won't."
"…like extra blankets, pillows…" He bent his head and brushed his mouth across hers.
He kissed her, fluidly, first touching the tip of his tongue to hers, then melding their mouths together. Groaning, he placed his arms around her and drew her against his body, which was full and feverish with a desire he'd studiously kept at bay until now, when he couldn't restrain himself any longer. Just one taste of her. Only one. Then he might survive the night. But, by the second, his mouth became more possessive, his tongue more intimate, his hands more seductive. She ground protesting fists against his chest. He moaned her name when he finally surrendered and raised his head.
"We can't, Lucky."
"It's just a kiss."
"No it isn't."
"Just one kiss."
"It's wrong."
"I know, I know."
"Then let me go. Please."
He released her but didn't move away.
Their eyes met and locked in a searing gaze. It gratified him to hear that she was as breathless as he, and that her protests were without conviction.
She slipped through the guest-room door and closed it behind her, but not before he saw in her eyes pinpoints of confusion and passion that matched those burning in his.
He hardly slept a wink that night, knowing she was only two doors away but unable to do a damn thing about it.
* * *
After three days of that he was on the verge of going stark staring mad. One by one the names on their list of possible suspects had fallen through the cracks of logic, reason, and fact. No one who had a recent grievance against him could have set the fire.
His mood was foul, his disposition sour, his language vulgar, his patience depleted, and all because he was desperate for Devon.
Her fourth morning in Milton Point she told him over coffee, "The farmer was our last chance, and he was in Arkansas buying cattle. It seems that the only people in town that night were those who love you. I don't know what else to do."
"Is that right?" He sneered. "I was under the impression that you knew everything. I thought you had a bag of tricks. Don't tell me you've run out."
Furiously she scraped back her chair and stood up, heading for the kitchen door. As she sailed past his chair he put out his arm, encircled her waist, drew her between his wide-spread thighs, and ground his forehead against her stomach.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He butted his head against the soft heaviness of her breasts and rubbed his face in the fabric of her blouse, breathing in her fresh, clean scent. "I know I'm acting like a jerk, but I'm slowly dying, Devon. I'm going to explode if—"
"Somebody's coming."
She backed out of his reach only seconds before Laurie entered the kitchen, followed by Sage. If Laurie noticed the steamy atmosphere and their rosy, guilt-ridden faces, she didn't acknowledge them. Sage, however, split her knowing look between the two of them and winked saucily.
"Well, hello. We're not interrupting anything, are we?"