She must have felt it, because her legs parted, letting the hard ridge of his erection slip between. Clothing provided a frustrating barrier, but one that allowed him needed time to think.
“Sam,” he muttered, pulling back.
She nodded, wiping the back of her hand over her damp lips. “I have to go.” Regret tinged her voice and she didn’t jump to fix her rumpled shirt or reapply her lipstick to her well-kissed mouth.
“Don’t forget to keep your cell on,” he said.
“I’ll call.” Seconds later, she was gone.
Prior to Sam’s disappearing act, Ari had spent a long night on her feet. She’d been filled with anxiety, knowing Quinn was getting ready to wrap up his case and end his association with Damon—she didn’t know the details of how things would go down. Worry for his safety consumed her, and though she’d promised herself she’d let him do his job, she couldn’t help peeking around corners, hoping for a glimpse of his handsome face. She needed Quinn’s smile or a quick nod of his head to reassure her everything would be okay.
Once Quinn had called her into his office, she’d been so relieved to see him, she’d dropped the reserve she’d been building between them. She had counted on that reserve to enable her to return to her uncomplicated life in Vermont.
Between her earlier concern over Quinn and the new worry about Sam, she couldn’t help but seek reassurance and comfort in Quinn’s arms. Or so she wanted to believe.
Finally the rec center came into sight, changing her focus. She’d chosen to check here first since it was open and there would be people around. She’d locked up Quinn’s house earlier, so the likelihood of finding Samantha there wasn’t as great.
Full of hope, Ari pulled into the parking lot, but ten minutes later she walked out frustrated and no closer to finding the teen. She’d questioned Al Wolf along with most of the kids. They’d all spread out to help her look, though none had seen or heard from Sam at all that day.
Instead of calling Quinn with no news, she decided to wait until she’d checked his house. Once she made the twenty-minute drive, she stepped out of the car once more, this time struck by the drop in temperature. In her hurry to find Sam, she’d left her jacket at the casino, and in her short sleeves, she had no protection against the cold. If Sam had come here, Ari hoped she’d been smart enough to bring a jacket of some kind.
She checked both the front and garage entrances to the house, but both remained locked and alarmed. Next she headed out back, where Dozer had a doghouse and a lead. Quinn had instructed her to leave the dog outside as long as the temperatures weren’t too cold.
The spotlights shone out back but it was still dark and hard to see anything besides shaded figures of trees. But sure enough, as soon as she rounded the back, she heard the dog’s distinctive bark.
She’d quickly learned that he answered to simple commands. “Dozer,” she called. “Come.”
The dog came toward her—at least she thought it was the dog, but with the dim lighting, she was uncertain. Especially since he seemed to have something large on his back. Ari blinked. She thought she knew what that something was, but the idea was so absurd she had to come closer to be certain.
She took two steps, then another. And then the vision became clear. Spank sat atop Dozer’s back as he walked, the monkey holding herself up with pride like the grand marshal at the circus.
Amusement warred with anger. Anger won out and Ari sucked in a deep breath, then counted to ten. When that didn’t work to calm her down, she let loose with a loud yell. “Samantha, get your runaway behind out here now!”
At the same time, Ari flipped open her cell phone and dialed Quinn, speaking to him only long enough to reassure him that Sam was okay and to promise that she’d return the girl to Elena and Nicholas before rejoining him at the hotel. For Quinn’s part, he’d have to wait his turn to yell and discipline Sam until he could afford a distraction from the case.
But Ari could take her turn now. She strode across the grass and called out Sam’s name again.
“I’m here, so you can quit screaming before you wake the neighbors,” Sam said in a sulky voice.
Ari reminded herself that Sam had had a hard time lately. That she’d had more upheaval than most adults endure in a lifetime and that in all probability she had what she thought was a good reason for this particular disappearing act. But the anger and fear still collided inside her, and only the fact that the young girl was whole and in one piece gave Ari a small measure of comfort.