She hadn’t thought she could feel more, but the moment she felt those hard hands grip her hips, heat scorched through her again. When he thrust into her, she was instantly tossed back into a world of sensations. Her skin burned where his fingers dug into her hips. Her breath backed up in her lungs. And his eyes…the way he had of looking at her intensified the pleasure of each thrust.
Vaguely, she was aware that a phone rang. But it was only a distant noise. All she could focus on was Kit and what they were doing together. As he began to move faster, she moved, too, arching upward to meet his thrusts, using her muscles to tighten around him each time he filled her.
“Drew,” he murmured.
The name felt so right to her when he said it. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No. God, no.”
She knew the moment that his climax began. She saw it in the tightening of his jaw and in the narrowing of his eyes.
“Come with me, Drew.” His voice was a hoarse whisper as he began to thrust even harder, even faster.
And when she heard his cry of satisfaction, she did.
KIT HAD NO IDEA how he ended up on the floor with Drew on his lap. But that was where he found himself when his brain cells clicked back on again. Drew’s head was snuggled into his shoulder. She was still wearing her thong—although it was slightly askew—and her suit jacket, fully buttoned. The combination was incredibly erotic, but he was not going to attack her again. Not yet.
And he was not going to let either of them regret what they’d just shared. He tightened his grip on her and brushed a kiss over her temple. “You okay?”
She lifted her head and wiggled off of his lap. “I’m fine.” She reached for her skirt. “I think you got a phone call while we were—otherwise engaged.”
“A phone call?”
She got up and walked around the corner of the desk.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” she said. “And I’m right. You did get a phone call. The message light is blinking.”
By the time Kit made it to his feet, the bathroom door was closed and the message light on his phone was indeed blinking. He hadn’t heard it ring—but she had. He’d have to think about that later.
After they talked. He knew by her behavior that they would have to talk about what had just happened. He wasn’t having any regrets, but she sure looked like she might be having some. He pressed the button on his answering machine and fast-forwarded through his previous calls from Theo and Sadie Oliver.
“Hey, bro.”
He recognized Nik’s voice at once.
“You’re probably already on your way to join Theo at the cabin. I might not make it. Something’s happened. I’m at St. Peter’s Church and there’s been…well, I’m not sure yet what’s going on. But the evidence is pointing to an interrupted wedding even though there’s no sign of the bride or the groom.”
Drew came out of the bathroom to stare at the phone. “An interrupted wedding?”
“Look,” Nik was saying, “the reason I’m calling is that your friend Roman Oliver has been hurt. When I got here, he was unconscious. It looked as though he’d taken a bad fall down a flight of stairs. I’m not sure how serious his injuries are.”
Kit’s stomach took a tumble.
“There’s evidence that he was involved somehow in whatever else went on here. I shouldn’t be telling you this much, but I thought you’d want to know. I’ll call the cabin and leave the same message with Theo in case you’re en-route. Roman’s being taken to St. Jude’s. Gotta go.”
Kit stared at the phone, trying to take in the message. An interrupted wedding and Roman was involved. And he was hurt badly enough to be taken to the new trauma center at St. Jude’s. When he glanced up, Drew was leaning over the phone book.
He knew what she was going to say the moment she met his eyes.
“St. Peter’s Church is on Skylar and Bellevue.”
6
KIT PARKED HIS CAR in front of a fire hydrant half a block down from St. Peter’s Church. He handed Drew the keys. “If a patrol car stops by, you can move it. But I doubt that any of them will be thinking of making their quota of parking tickets.”
At least, not from the looks of the crowd that had congregated in front of the church. The press had obviously caught wind of the story. He turned back to her. “I’m depending on you to be a woman of your word, Drew.”
She’d insisted on coming along. Her argument had been that if she went into the church, she might remember something. His argument had been that if she went into the church with bloodstains on her clothes, she might end up in jail.
Kit had long ago learned the only hope a man had of winning an argument with a woman was to present your most convincing evidence first. And then hope that the Fates were smiling on you. In this case, he’d conceded round one. She was here with him. But he’d won round two. She’d promised to stay in the car. Ari was presently sharing the backseat with the wedding dress and the tote. “If you get bored, you’ll find some notebooks and pencils in the glove compartment. Practice writing your name. See if that jogs any memories loose.”
“Go,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “You need to find out what happened to your friend.”
He covered her hand with his. He’d told her about Roman on the drive over, and her words and the understanding in her eyes moved him. “I’ll find out as much as I can, and I won’t be long.”
She nodded.
“Lock the doors and don’t talk to strangers.”
Her lips curved a bit at that, and Kit gave her a quick kiss. It took some effort, but he resisted the urge to deepen it. Instead, he got out of the car, shut the door and headed up the street. They still hadn’t talked about what had happened between them in his office. He wasn’t sure what he could say about it—except that it had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced before—and he intended to make love to her again, soon.
But he could sense that Drew might not be of the same mind that he was. Ever since she’d come out of the bathroom, he’d felt that she’d erected a little wall between them. One that he intended to go over or under or knock down. Later. Right now, he had to keep his mind on business. Professionalism was the key if he was going to help her. And he also needed to find out what had happened to Roman and how his friend was involved in all of this. All during the ride over, he’d tried his best to ignore the tingling at the back of his neck that was telling him what he was about to learn wouldn’t be good.
As Kit crossed the street, he focused on details. Several TV news crews were stationed in front of the crime-scene tape at the bottom of the steps with cameras and lights at the ready. He recognized one of the uniforms as a friend he’d played basketball with in high school. Jerry would be his ticket in to see Nik. But, first, he was going to see what he could learn outside.
St. Peter’s was an older church, one that had survived the earthquake of 1906. He’d read about it in the papers recently. Its new pastor, who preferred to be called Father Mike, had been profiled as a priest who’d taken an older inner-city parish and managed to revitalize it, making it a magnet for young people. Young people meant weddings and christenings, and according to the article, St. Peter’s and Father Mike had been doing a thriving business recently.
A few feet away, Kit recognized the reporter who was in the middle of taping a live update for Channel Five. She was an attractive redhead named Carla Mitchell and she had a nose for news.
“All we know so far, Chet, is that two people have been taken away in ambulances to a local hospital. No word on their names or their conditions. The police aren’t releasing any information until next of kin are notified.”
Kit watched as Carla extended her time on the air by directing the cameraman to scan the front of the church. She filled her viewers in on the recent popularity of the church and speculated on whether or not this was a wedding gone tragically wrong. Kit’s stomach tightened at the thought. There was very little doubt in his mind that this was the place where Drew had shot someone. But what in the hell had Roman been doing here?
The moment the camera stopped, he moved closer.
“Carla?”
“Kit.”
He caught the recognition and brief flash of pleasure in her eyes before they narrowed in speculation. He and Carla had shared a few mutually enjoyable dates. They might have shared even more, but she was an ambitious young woman, and he was related to both a cop and an up-and-coming defense attorney. It hadn’t taken Kit long to realize that she saw him a potential source of hot tips, and it hadn’t taken Carla long to realize that he wasn’t going to be providing any. They’d parted as friends.
She closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his arm. “Have you got a client here?”
He shook his head. “You’re always on the job.”
Carla grinned at him. “Always.”
He turned on the full-dimpled smile. “I’ve got a brother here.”
Her eyes brightened instantly. “Nik’s here? You got any idea what the hell’s going on?”
Kit shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “No idea. I’ve got something personal I have to see Nik about.”