Still the One

“Sure.” Was it her imagination or did his voice tighten?

He’d been reserved since they’d left her house, answering questions when she asked, but not making conversation. She should probably follow his lead.

The effortless way he’d lost the men who followed them reassured Kit. And grated on her at the same time.

As long as she was with him, she didn’t have to worry that she would lead Alexander’s men anywhere, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t be with Rafe all the time.

Her body thrummed with awareness of his rich, earthy scent. She fixed her gaze on the side mirror, glad when they exited onto I-235 North in the center of the city.

Seeing his old basketball jersey had affected her like a kick to the stomach. Brought back the memory of the look on his face when he’d found her in that shirt so long ago. Surprise, then a slow-curling, wicked smile as he’d tumbled her onto his rumpled bed. That had been the first, and only, time she’d initiated their lovemaking.

At the memory, her cheeks heated and she shifted against the smooth leather at her back. “So, did you believe Tony’s parents? You really think they don’t know where he is?”

“Yes. If Valentine’s parents had seen him, I think they would’ve been nervous, evaded my questions. Plus I checked around outside while you stayed inside with them. There were no signs that anyone had been there. And I don’t think they faked the concern they feel for Tony and Liz. Or their anger at Tony.”

“I was really hoping we’d learn something down there.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Now what do we do?”

“Like I said, I’ll check on the computer we found at Tony’s place. I’ll talk to his employer and parole officer tomorrow.”

“I want to come along.” She half-turned to face him in the car, lacing her fingers together against the urge to touch him. Thank goodness, they were nearly at her house. “I know I can help, if you’ll just let me.”

Regardless of his answer, she didn’t plan to sit around waiting on him to learn something and call her with a daily report.

“We’ve already been over this.”

“What if you don’t find them? I will have done nothing to help Liz and I can’t live with that. I stayed out of your way at the Valentines and you are the one who wanted me to go.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “That was for your safety.”

“And what if I’m still being followed?”

“We’ll deal with it.”

“I really need to do something.” Then grudgingly, “Please?”

His jaw set as he exited the highway and headed west on Wilshire toward May Avenue. Heavier traffic zoomed along these streets than had been on the highway. At one point, he swerved sharply, reminding Kit that he’d done the same thing about an hour ago. He must’ve been trying to miss an animal or a pothole.

“What about your work schedule? Are you flying out anywhere in the next couple of days?”

“No. I called in yesterday.” Had it really been only a day and a half since Liz had disappeared with Tony? “I’ve built up a few weeks of vacation and my boss said I should take some time.”

“At least I won’t have to worry about where you are and I can concentrate solely on finding your sister.”

So glad I could help. Kit bit back the sarcastic words.

How had he gone from flying for the Air Force to this job? She didn’t ask. It was better not to know about the life he’d made without her.

Her mind and body ached from trying to deny how much she’d wanted him earlier. If Rafe sensed she couldn’t get past that, he’d be out of here so fast she wouldn’t know what happened.

He swung into her driveway and killed the engine. “I want to check your house again for bugs.”

“You didn’t find anything before.” She paused with her hand on the door handle.

“Don’t you wonder where those guys went after I shook their tail?”

She should have. She hadn’t.

“It’s possible they came back here, installed a little something to make sure they could keep track of you.”

“All right.” After getting out of the car, she moved up the sidewalk and onto the porch in front of him. He stayed close, close enough that she could feel him at her back. She swallowed against the way her nape prickled. She unlocked the door and waited for him to enter first.

She felt so out of her league with all this stuff, and Rafe acted as though it were second nature. When—how—had he learned to do investigative work? Obviously he needed to know these things for his current job. She knew he probably wouldn’t welcome her questions so she kept her mouth shut, walked in behind him and closed the door.

He motioned for her to turn on the light then the stereo, so she did, keeping the volume at a moderate level. The deep voice of a local DJ boomed out of the receiver before whiskey-voiced Chris Isaak began to sing about doing a bad, bad thing.

Inserting the earpiece into his left ear, Rafe headed down the hallway. His gaze was narrowed and his nostrils flared in a way that Kit had never seen.

He looked like a…predator, dangerous, unfamiliar. Kit couldn’t stop the spike of excitement in her blood pressure.

From what he’d told her at Tony’s, she knew that this time he would start at the back of her house and work his way to where they’d come in. He moved first to her bedroom, then Liz’s, turning in a slow circle in each room. Kit followed slowly, trying to ignore the slow roll of his hips, the ripple of muscle beneath the khaki T-shirt.

He made quick work of the bathroom and gave her a thumbs-up. She let out a sigh of relief. She could not handle knowing someone was watching her in the bath.

Her gaze locked on his hands. Strong, gentle hands sprinkled with a faint dusting of dark hair. Surrounded by the seductive bass of Chris Isaak, Kit found herself swamped by memories of those hands on her body, stroking, teasing, pleasing.

She wrapped her arms around her middle and forced herself to watch Rafe, to pay closer attention to the pictures on the walls, to the light switches, the blades of the ceiling fan, just as he did.

When he walked through the living room toward the kitchen, he halted abruptly. Pressing the earpiece close to his ear, he listened intently. He prowled the perimeter of her kitchen, returned to the living room. She moved to the sofa, feeling along the cushions, inside the lampshade, her gaze going questioningly to his. He nodded, those lean fingers edging around the casing of the wall phone as he glanced at the bug detector he held.

He reached up to slide a hand along the blades of the ceiling fan, and his T-shirt rode up to expose sleek brown skin. When he stretched, muscle flexed across his flat belly, drawing her eye to the waistband of his snug jeans.

She straightened, pulling her gaze away to scan the room, telling herself to keep searching for audio or video equipment, though she hardly knew what to look for. Rafe moved to the wall, studied the air-conditioner return where the wall met the ceiling. He ran a finger along each pleated opening of the vent, then moved away, seemingly satisfied.

Once again his gaze traveled the room, pausing on the sofa.

He went from relaxed alertness to rigid readiness. Her gaze followed his as he looked down at the tool he carried and she saw a green LED flash. Rafe slipped the bug detector into the back pocket of his jeans. With a few silent strides, he passed in front of her and stopped at the sofa, close enough that she could feel the warmth from his body.

Dread pinched at her.

He turned, wrapping his fingers around her elbow. The heat that shot up her arm barely registered as he drew her gaze to the sofa.

He pointed, and she stared for a moment without realizing what she looked at. Then…instead of the dark plaid-covered sofa button she expected to see, she saw a flat black button. Not a button, a bug. A listening device.

She turned, shock rippling through her. “Can they hear—”

He hauled her to him, his mouth crashing down on hers.

Kit stiffened, her eyes going wide. Hot, hard lips moved over hers as a shock wave jolted her body. Then she sagged against him. Just a little.