“I’m so sorry.” She lifted her head to look at him, cupping his cheek with her hand as he stared at her. His eyes were dark and glassy, brimming with moisture. She resisted the urge to dry them with her fingers. “What happened to your father?” She almost regretted asking him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“He took her life insurance and drank himself to death.” Murphy seemed lost in his memories as he continued. “And I might have helped him on a little bit.”
The shiver wracking her body had nothing to do with the snow outside. “You killed him?”
“I bought the whiskey.” Murphy’s voice was laced with venom. “Though I’ve no idea how the rat poison got mixed in with the liquor.”
Rachel didn’t ask him to elaborate. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more, and she was afraid how he’d react if she questioned him further. This cold, calculating side of his personality was at odds with the warm, emotional Murphy of a few moments ago. He was a self-confessed killer, though she’d already admitted she’d do the same to David, given half the chance.
“We’re not so different,” she said it under her breath. His answering nod was barely perceptible. She could feel his tension in the ridge of chest muscles beneath her cheek and in the stilted way he inhaled and exhaled. He lay still and unmoving, as if considering his options, trying to choose which way to jump.
Eventually the silence became too heavy to bear. She broke it with a quiet voice. “Has it stopped snowing yet?”
“About an hour ago.” His response was clipped.
“Jesus, why are we still here?”
“You looked peaceful when you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Finally, there was a hint of softness behind his words. She could feel the tension starting to seep out of his body, his chest relaxing beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut with relief, so thankful to feel the change.
He lifted a hand and smoothed her hair down against her crown, raking his fingers between the tendrils. His thumb brushed softly against her neck, making her skin tingle with pleasure.
He touched her with intent, his hand dipping lower, tracing the line of her spine. Desire flashed inside her belly, taking her by surprise. Rachel moved her hand from his chest, running the pads of her fingers down to his stomach, watching as his muscles tensed in response.
When he reached down and stilled her wrist, his sudden movement made her look up with shock. Without saying a word he pulled her up, bringing her face in line with his, until their faces were inches apart. His stare was intense, his eyes dark and wide. It was almost painful to look at him, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
“Rachel …” His voice sounded like a warning. “We don’t need to do this.”
She swallowed hard, though her mouth was already dry. He cupped her cheek with his hand, pulling her toward him until their brows were touching. She couldn’t come up with the words to say. It was like emotion had taken her thoughts hostage. He pulled her closer still, until their lips were barely touching, just enough to let her feel his warm breath.
His voice cracked. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The way he said it made her want to cry again. It sounded like he was trying to convince them both.
She pressed her lips harder against him. “I know.”
?
??I’ll never let him hurt you, either.” His lips trembled against hers. “I won’t let him take you.”
She dropped her head into the crook of his neck, trying to hide the tears. He cradled her head tenderly, letting her sob her relief into his skin. It didn’t matter how many times he said it; she wanted to hear it over and again.
“You’re not taking me to him?” She looked up through red eyes, wanting to hear him say it again.
“No.” He paused, tipping his head to the side. “I like the idea of packing you away in my suitcase, though, and taking you home to put on the shelf. Something pretty to look at.”
His words cut through the tension in the room. She could feel her lips begin to twitch, like a smile was fighting to get out. “You want a doll to play with?”
He grinned. “I could get used to it.” Reaching around, he cupped her ass. “Beats having to rely on Pamela.”
She blanched at his mentioning of another woman. Looking up, she caught his amused gaze. He wiggled the fingers of his left hand, making her laugh.
“Should I be flattered?” She shook her head. “Because being compared to a hand job isn’t the way to a girl’s heart.”
“I said you were better than a hand job.”
“Such a sweet talker.” She shook her head. “I should teach you a lesson.”
His voice thickened. “Maybe you should.”
The room was silent for a moment as she pulled herself up to her knees and hitched a leg over his waist, leaning up and cupping his face with both hands.