Circle of Desire (Damask Circle 3)
She looked at him. “Really?”
“Really,” he said solemnly, glad to see her smile had finally touched her eyes.
“Then take me to your favorite, and I’ll buy you breakfast.” She hesitated. “Unless, of course, you’d rather go home.”
He had nothing—and no one—to go home to. And he wasn’t leaving this woman’s side until this case was solved. Though he might not believe in psychics and witchcraft, the last few hours had certainly proven these two not only knew everything the police knew, but had an innate ability to keep one step ahead of the pack. Right now, that was exactly where he needed to be.
And if he could get into her bed as well, all the better.
GWEN WAS ASLEEP ON
THE SOFA BY THE TIME THEY GOT back to the motel room. Kat dropped the bags of cinnamon rolls and pastries on the small table and walked over.
“Gran?” She kept her voice soft, not wanting to startle the older woman.
Gwen sighed and opened her eyes. “My feet feel like bricks. You’ll have to massage them before you do anything else.”
“I’ll do that,” Ethan said behind her. “You go get breakfast ready.”
Kat looked up in surprise. “You sure?”
He nodded. “My mom had arthritis, too. My brother and I used to take turns massaging to ease the aches for a while.”
“Well, before you touch my feet, you’re going to have to provide a proper introduction.” Gwen’s eyes twinkled despite the echoes of pain. “I can’t keep calling you Detective Morgan if we’re going to get so friendly.”
He smiled, and Kat’s breath caught. She had a feeling he didn’t smile much, but when he did—wow.
“It’s Ethan, ma’am.”
“Gwen Tanner. Pleased to meet you.” She shook his offered hand. “The oil’s over there by the sink.”
He retrieved it, then sat on the coffee table and eased her feet onto his legs. If the relief on Gwen’s face was anything to go by, he certainly knew his way around a bottle of massage oil. Maybe that was something Kat could put to good use later …
He chose that moment to glance at her, and for several heartbeats Kat found herself pinned by the power of his gaze. What passed between them was a recognition of fate. Of inevitability. But more than that, it was a promise of passion and satisfaction … and something else, something she couldn’t quite define.
A tremor ran through her. She’d never felt this strong an attraction to anyone, and in some ways it was almost scary. The pull she felt had nothing to do with the allure of a werewolf in the middle of moon fever, and everything to do with the man himself. By the same token, she was positive the moon had everything to do with his attraction to her. But that didn’t matter. What did matter was finding time alone without jeopardizing the case.
She lowered her gaze and got down to the business of making coffee and setting out breakfast. “Gran, are you coming over to the table, or would you prefer to remain where you are?”
“I’ll stay here.” She patted Ethan’s hands. “Thanks, pet. That feels much better.”
Kat tossed him a hand towel, then brought over Gwen’s coffee and cinnamon rolls. “So what’s the plan today, beside rest?”
“I’ll try to do another reading this afternoon. I’ve got a feeling this thing is not going to hang around for much longer.”
“Because the police are closing in?” Ethan asked.
Gwen gave him a wry look. “The police haven’t a clue. Present company included.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t believe we’ll catch the psycho behind this?”
“No, because none of you truly know what you’re up against.” She glanced at Kat. “Why don’t you explain it to the man?”
Kat sighed and cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “The thing that’s killing these kids is what we’ve termed a soul-sucker. It’s a vampire of sorts, but instead of blood, it feeds on souls.”
His expression was blank, but she could feel his disbelief as easily as she’d felt his desire only moments before. “Vampires don’t exist.”
“Much as werewolves don’t exist? Get real, Detective.”