Finished in the main room, she headed for his office and editing room. She checked her watch. He’d been gone nine minutes. Did she really have time to search it? She worked as quickly as possible and found nothing to tell her he wasn’t exactly who he claimed to be.
Six minutes left. Hopefully, more. He’d said fifteen to twenty.
Keeping her ears open for noises that would tell her he’d returned, she crossed to his bedroom, big enough for a King-sized platform bed with an extended headboard and nightstands. She gave them a thorough once-over but found nothing of interest. To her relief, no heart-half. Next, she looked over the shelves on the wall unit. Tidy. Books. A framed photo of an older woman. His mother?
She opened a drawer. Underwear and T-shirts.
Another drawer. Sweaters.
Another. Papers.
This one she searched, careful to put things back as she found them.
The last drawer held small personal items and a flat case — a man’s jewelry box.
Hand trembling, she opened the lid. Inside: cufflinks, tie tacks, a heavy bracelet.
No heart-half. Relief washed through her.
The sound of a key in the lock made her heart thud. She shoved the box into place and closed the drawer and was barely back into the main room before Michael walked in, bag in hand. He set the bottle of wine on the counter and fetched a battery-operated opener from a cabinet.
“You didn’t leave, after all. I was afraid this might be wasted.”
“And if I had?”
“My bad luck.”
He used the wine opener on the bottle, and she fetched two stemmed glasses from the cart and brought them to the island, where he filled them and handed her one.
They clinked and sipped, and she said, “I thought you were just interested in my mind.”
“I’ve expanded my interests.”
The wine warmed Lilith inside. Relaxed her. She’d been living and breathing tension — had been trying to hold fear for Hannah at bay — and just letting go of all that for a little while was a relief. She finished her glass and let him refill it. She was so relieved at not having found anything incriminating in her search, especially not Hannah’s heart-half, that she smiled, really smiled, for the first time with him.
Topping off their glasses, he said, “I like that. The smile. You don’t do that often enough.”
“Give me reason.”
“I thought you would never ask.”
Feeling more for this man than she wanted to, Lilith couldn’t move. He locked onto her gaze, and she felt something between them clicking. Growing.
Attraction.
Empathy.
Connection.
He reached out, touched her cheek and moved closer. Slanted his mouth over hers. A brush of lips that made her entire body sigh. He pulled back a paper-width and their eyes connected again.
Michael slid his hand around her head to draw her to him more fully.
She needed this. Needed a way to forget her fears, even if for a little while. Needed his touch. His mouth on hers. His hand roaming along her hip, lifting her skirt, seeking her heat.
“Michael!” she whispered when he made her thighs quiver in response.
“Do you want me to stop?”
His fingers were already inside the edge of her panties, parting her lips, burrowing into her wet warmth. She could hardly breathe, her pulse was racing, her flesh was on fire.
It was just sex.
A much-needed release.
In answer, she kissed and opened to him.
He played her like a violin, with the precision of a man who knew a woman’s body, who knew the instrument that would make her whole body sing. Her clit had never known such a master. He played her faster and faster until she was nearly mindless with wanting and needing and, finally, having.
When she came, he had to hold her so she didn’t slip to the floor. Her knees seemed to have disappeared.
Her heart was pounding. Her head was light. Her skin was slick with a sheen of afterglow.
No words passed between them. He refilled their glasses, handed one to her. She downed her wine and set down the glass.
Then undid his belt and unzipped his jeans.
He was ready for her. Hot. Heavy. Hard. He pulsed when she touched him.
With a moan, he leaned back against the counter, braced both hands on the edge and watched her intently. He filled her hand. And when he leaned forward and kissed her again, he filled her mouth. He set the rhythm with his tongue. She followed with her hand and fingers, flashing over his length, thumbing his tip and spreading the fluid there over his head.
He let go of the counter and found her breasts, slid under the material of her dress and bra so that she felt his flesh against hers. Felt him thumb her nipples in the same escalating pace. Heat spread through her, and her head grew lighter. She had to have him inside her. With her free hand, she moved her panties to the side and with the other, guided him up her slick path.
Catching her buttocks with both hands, he hitched her up so he could go deeper. She wound her legs around his back and rode him hard.
When they came, it was together. An explosion of the senses. Colors, smells, sensations all intensified.
He held her wrapped around him, foreheads meeting.
And then she quieted inside.
And remembered why she was there in the first place.
Remembered Hannah was still at risk.
When Lilith insisted on going home, Michael expressed his disappointment but walked her to her car. He kissed her good-bye. Not the light brush of lips on lips. Not the intense tangling of tongues.
His kiss was warm and deep and possessive.
And left her feeling guilty on two fronts, both because she’d betrayed him and because, for a few minutes in his arms, she’d forgotten Hannah and so had betrayed her sister, as well.
Chapter 17
WANTING TO FEEL CLOSER to Hannah, Lilith went to sleep with the stuffed tiger cat, remembering the past when they’d been as close as two sisters could be.
Memories turned into bad dreams, and she slept restlessly, forcing herself up out of another nightmare of Hannah being hunted.
A noise outside startled her. Her eyes flew open, and she sat straight up, dropping the stuffed toy to the floor. Heart pounding, disoriented for a moment, she slipped out of bed and looked around. She checked the locks on the doors and then went to a window and looked out. Everything looked normal. No dark car with lights on in the middle of the street. Dawn was about to break, but outside, the street was still dark.
Empty.
Wait! Movement. Lilith squinted hard.
In the middle of the street that moved away from the river, the old homeless woman was pushing a grocery cart holding black bags filled with her possessions.
Dressed only in a sheer negligee, Lilith slipped on shoes and ran to the coat closet, where she grabbed a raincoat. She fetched her keys and hurriedly unlocked the front door, but by the time she got out on the sidewalk, the woman had disappeared once more.
She couldn’t have gotten far.
Lilith took off down the street after her. Running in heels was a bitch, but she determined to talk to the only person who’d been witness to what happened the night Hannah was taken. Maybe there was something, some small thing, that could help her figure out the identity of the man.
Away from the river, buildings multiplied — one of the old neighborhoods with apartment houses and two- and three-flats and single family homes a century and more old. Here alleys intersected blocks. Undoubtedly that’s where the elderly woman had been headed, to pick up items tossed out with the garbage.
The alley turned into a T. When she got to the intersection, Lilith still saw no one.
But she heard footfalls behind her. She whipped around. Saw movement in the shadows. Didn’t hesitate. Ran for her life.