"Not yet. But I've done some checking. I think he's in San Diego."

The shower went off and he pictured Zoe getting out and toweling herself dry. Then he rolled his eyes at his own response. What was wrong with him? He was in love with Sheridan, had been for years.

But he was tired of waiting for a woman he wasn't going to get. And Zoe's beauty and vulnerability drew him like a magnet.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to block out his growing attraction. "As soon as we get up in the morning, I'll--"

"Who's we?" she cut in.

"I've got Zoe here with me."

The volume of Skye's voice instantly switched to loud. "You're not taking her to find Franky Bates!"

"Of course not."

"Good." There was a short pause. "So what are you doing?"

Trying not to think of her in a sexual way. Trying to remind myself that she only wanted to share my hotel room because I seem like her safe, trustworthy helper. Trying to keep in mind that her saying I'm nice can't be construed as an invitation...

Because even if it was an invitation, she wasn't in any condition to be making that decision.

"I'm doing what I can while I'm here."

Zoe came out of the bathroom and steam billowed out with her.

Jonathan allowed himself a quick peek and saw a strip of golden skin above a pair of pink pajama bottoms that rode low on her hips, bare arms and shoulders and a hint of cle**age showing above a spaghetti-strap top. Her long hair was wrapped in a towel.

Sucking in a deep breath, he quickly shored up his restraint with one word that was pretty much a shortcut to all the rest: engaged. "I'd arrange a flight for her in the morning, but that would take more time than simply having her wait at the hotel while I pay a visit to Franky's mother. We don't have the luxury of wasting any time."

He'd been talking to Skye, but Zoe turned to face him. "You're not leaving me anywhere."

He couldn't answer without giving away her proximity. Fortunately, Skye was talking and hadn't heard her. "You think Franky's mother will tell you where to find him?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"She might be too protective."

"I gotta start somewhere."

Frowning at him, Zoe toweled off her hair, and the scent of shampoo reached his nostrils.

Eager to get off the phone before Zoe spoke up again, he said, "I've gotta go. I'm beat."

But Skye wasn't quite done. "Wait a sec. Where's Zoe now? I'd like to talk to her."

He debated his response--and settled on the first lie he'd ever told her.

Well, besides the one about his feelings for Sheridan. "She's in another room," he said. "You'll have to try her cell."

Fortunately, Skye didn't question it. "Will do. 'Night."

With a sigh, he punched the End button, tossed the phone aside and headed for the bathroom. He told himself to ignore Zoe, to stay focused on his destination. But he didn't. He looked up as he passed her, and their eyes locked in the mirror.

"Why'd you just say I have my own room?" she asked.

Lying about being together made it far less innocuous than it'd seemed in the lobby. He understood that. But did she really want others to know?

He leaned one shoulder against the wall and let his eyes range over her. She lowered her lashes so he couldn't read her reaction, but her lips parted and the rise and fall of her chest quickened. She was feeling the same excitement that sizzled through his veins.

To prove it, he stepped up behind her, rested one hand on the curve of her waist and lightly brushed his mouth against the side of her neck.

She didn't turn and fall into his arms, but neither did she stop him.

"Feel that?" he murmured when she shivered.

Swallowing, she watched him with more desire than trust, but she nodded.

"That's why," he said. Then he forced himself to go into the bathroom and close the door.

"What will we do?" Tiffany asked. She'd been agitated all evening, ever since they'd heard that Rover had been flapping his big mouth. But now that the eleven o'clock news was over and they'd seen the whole segment, complete with shots of a now-comatose Rover in the hospital, surrounded by his concerned family, she was almost frantic. "Colin, I don't want to go to prison like my brother!"

"You're not going to prison, so shut up," he said. "Rover's in a freaking coma!"

"He could wake up."

"He's not going to wake up. You heard what the doctor said. He has brain damage, maybe a twenty percent chance of survival." Stretching out his legs, Colin propped them on the coffee table. He had work to do, research for a litigation case he hadn't been able to finish at the office, but he didn't feel like tackling it.

"What if he tells the police what kind of car we drive? His school's right down the street from your father's place."

"Get me a beer," he said.

She didn't move, but when he narrowed his eyes, she got up and hurried to the kitchen. He heard her open the fridge, then a cupboard.

Seconds later, she was back with a cold one, which he accepted, but only after knocking her hand away when she tried to run her fingers through his hair. "Leave me alone."

"I'm your wife," she said. "You don't want me to touch you?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"So you are worried."

Not really. If Rover did wake up, he probably wouldn't be able to give a decent description or even remember his own name. Colin was more angry than frightened. He'd wanted to see Zoe tonight. He'd had it all planned out, everything he was going to tell her. He'd imagined them sharing another secret cigarette, a sympathetic hug, an innocent kiss, a less-than-innocent grope--

"Colin? We're not going to do anything about it?"

"What can we do? This isn't some TV show where we can sneak into his hospital room and smother him. Besides, there's no need. He won't come out of it. I hit him with a bat. His brain is mush."

"You have to at least consider the possibility."

"Why? What good will that do? Live for today, right? It's all part of the risk, the price we pay for fun."

"But I don't want to go to prison," she repeated.

Tiffany was getting on his nerves. He wasn't interested in Rover anymore. Rover was old news. He had Samantha now. And that brought Zoe to her knees--metaphorically speaking, of course, but he longed for the day when that might actually happen.

"Colin?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Don't you care if we get caught?"

"Will you drop it already? We won't get caught, not that easily."




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