Page 45 of Chilled
“You’re doing it again.”
Brenna jumped. Then she took a deep breath and asked as casually as she could manage, “Doing what?”
“That lip-biting thing. What are you second-guessing now?”
As if she’d tell him! How pathetic would that be? Poor little Brenna Jensen mooning over handsome FBI Agent Tarver. As if she had a snowball’s chance with him. “I was just trying to think of what we might have missed.”
“In what?”
“The patient files, the notes, a connection to the women.” She was getting really good at dodging her feelings. The case was more important anyway.
Stay on track, Brenna.
“All the women were in the news lately, so the guy obviously watches the local news channel,” Nick said.
“Or reads the online copy,” Brenna said. “Either way, he follows the news along with probably every other adult male in Riverton. That should narrow it down to about twenty thousand.”
Brenna tapped a finger to her lip. “Victor said something about me not being as smart as he is. He said it twice. I just can’t remember anyone angry at me for being smarter than him.”
“Anyone you put behind bars would be.”
“Yes, but we’ve already gone through that list. Unless we missed someone.” Frustration roiled inside her gut. Brenna banged her fist into her palm. “We have to nail this guy. I can’t stand the thought of another woman murdered while we chase empty leads.”
It was wellafter midnight when they reached the hotel suite, and Nick was exhausted, but he let Brenna have the first shower. “I’m hitting the snack machine. Want anything?”
“No, I’m good. I just want a hot shower and warm clothes.” Her body trembled as if to emphasize her point.
“Take your time.”
Fifteen minutes later, and several trips up and down the stairs and halls, Nick returned to the room.
Brenna was out of the bathroom and back in her room. She stood by her queen-sized bed, tugging a brush through her long, wet hair. “It’s all yours. I’m going to get some sleep.”
Something about that soft gray tank top and the navy-blue flannel pajamas that bunched at her feet because they were too long had Nick’s heart racing behind his ribs. Or maybe it was the vulnerability in her eyes, or the way she’d coaxed the old man into talking with them.
Despite his cold, wet clothing, heat rose from his body. The thought of a hot shower dwindled into the need for a cold one to keep the testosterone in check.
Brenna reached back with the brush to untangle the back of her hair, and in the process, the tank top stretched tightly over her breasts.
Nick picked that moment to beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom and a lukewarm shower. Last night, he’d made the error of sleeping with Brenna, unbeknownst to her. He couldn’t repeat the same mistake.
Could he? And get away with it?
Did she even have a clue he found her desirable? Probably not, and he’d better leave well enough alone. As a member of his team, she was off-limits.
Nick stripped to the skin and stepped beneath the shower spray, willing his body to relax and his desire to abate.
By the time he shut off the water, he had the temperature at refrigerator-cool. No amount of mental flaying helped, only the shock to his system could tame his erection.
Shivering, he toweled dry and slipped into boxers, preferring to sleep naked but making this one concession to his roommate’s sensitivities. Hopefully, Brenna would be sound asleep, and he could convince his body to loosen up enough to allow him a little of that elusive energy restoration called sleep.
Only the light over the computer in the sitting area remained on when Nick made his rounds. Brenna had thrown the bolt on the door and the safety latch over that. All the windows in Nick’s room and the sitting area were secure. Which left Brenna’s room.
He’d saved her room for last to make sure she was asleep before he slipped in and checked the windows.
Brenna lay on her back in the big bed, her face pale in the muted light from the other room. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. Blond hair spilled across the pillow in a fan of golden silk, like an angel’s halo.
Nick reached out to touch the fine strands, and as he did, she shifted, rolling onto her side and over his hand, trapping him.
