Lisa Jackson
She thought it over. “I think you and me living together might be the end of something wonderful.”
He leaned down and kissed her bare leg. Damn it, she felt a tingle as his lips brushed over her skin.
“Could be the start,” he pointed out, kissing her a little higher and the tingle deep inside spread.
“You’re bad,” she said, having trouble concentrating.
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I do.”
“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” He shifted, lengthening out on the couch beside her and kissing her temple. “Tell me, Detective, what’s your most secret fantasy?”
“You mean besides the one with you?”
“Naughty girl,” he said, his voice low as he leaned over her.
She touched the side of his jaw and winked. “You have no idea.”
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Nancy Bush’s newest thriller,
coming soon from Zebra Books!
Prologue
A blast of wind slammed against the old pickup and nearly wrenched the wheel from Rafe’s hands.
“Damn,” he muttered. With an effort he kept the vehicle bouncing hard down the road. Night was thick and black and the keening wail of the wind kept Rafe’s senses on high alert.
He glanced down at the crown of the blond angel snuggled up next to him. She was older than he was by six months, but she was so fragile that he felt manly and protective with her. He wanted to put an arm around her but needed both hands to wrangle this miserable old Dodge down the highway. They were running away. Running away together. It scared him and thrilled him at the same time. He saw her slide a hand over her protruding belly and it made him feel warm inside. His baby. Their baby. He wanted to crow with delight.
They’d gotten away!
But there was still danger.
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She was silent as they continued to bounce and shake down the road. He hoped to hell the rough ride didn’t hurt the baby. They were going for a new start, a new life.
Damn! It felt good !
Rafe gazed through the inky blackness and saw tree limbs bend toward the vehicle as he passed, as if they were trying to stop them. Nothing could stop them. He wouldn’t let it.
He mused, “You know, they found that woman’s body. The whore that called herself a witch? She’d been dead a while. Nothing but bones, really.”
Rafe was much better at being a dope in love than a conversationalist. The woman beside him listened quietly, neither encouraging or discouraging him.
“Y’know I told you about the Blackburns?” he went on. “I do some work for them sometimes? They’re that old couple who hide behind their curtains and spy on the other houses? They saw the fire across their field a few years back and thought the witch died then. Maybe she did. But the cops and stuff dug all around and didn’t find her. Guess he hid her. But they found her now. Just a bag of bones.”
They drove on for a while. The crying wind rose to a shriek as they passed through the mountains. The Coast Range. Rafe was taking them away from the beach and toward Portland though he didn’t have the foggiest idea what they would do when they reached the city. But Tasha had told him where to go.
They passed a rest stop, one lonely light shining through the cold night air. Rafe had been feeling Nancy Bush
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