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His gaze lingered on the image. “How old were you?”

“Seventeen. It was shortly before my accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I found a way to reinvent myself.” She unfastened the buttons on her blouse, not the least bit interested in rehashing her dancing years. “It led me to law enforcement. To here.”

He raised his gaze to hers and very slowly lowered it over her body, resting finally on the pale crests of her breasts peeking out over a lace bra. “Your body is perfect.”

“Maybe not perfect, but not as lumbering as my instructors suggested.”

He crossed the room and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “They were morons.”

A chuckle rumbled in her throat. “Perhaps that was one of the words I used as I left for the last time.”

He hooked his thumb into the strap of her bra and tugged it off her shoulder. The lace cup gapped, revealing more of her breast. He traced the top of the soft flesh, sending a ripple of desire shooting through her.

“I bet you were one of the best.” His voice had grown husky.

“Not one of the best. But really damn good.” She dropped her gaze to the tip of his finger and watched as it skimmed over her skin. Longing warmed her body. She hungered for what came next.

Vaughan stepped back and carefully removed his shirt, his stare never wavering from her face. She unhooked the back of her bra and let the lace fall to the ground. She stepped forward and skimmed her hands over his shoulders, relishing the strength in them.

He kissed her lips again. Like the last kiss, this was gentle, testing. She leaned into him and pressed her naked breasts against his chest. Immediately he deepened the kiss.

She reached for the buckle on his belt and deftly unfastened it. She slid her hand under the waistband, but she did not reach for him. She let her fingers linger in promise of what would soon happen. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to savor the desire and delay her release.

The next minutes passed in a blur of sensations as their clothes slid from their bodies and piled on the floor. When she stepped out of her panties, he rested his hands on her bare hips, and then began to slowly caress the curves of her body.

He tugged her toward the bed and pulled back the covers, watching as she climbed into the center. He moved on top of her and, pulling up the covers, nestled with her under the coverlet. His erection pressed against her as she cupped her breasts and then opened her legs. He kissed her on the lips and then on the top of her breasts, as she again skimmed her fingers toward his erection. His groan was a mixture of pain and pure pleasure.

This time, she wrapped her long fingers around his shaft and moved her hand up and down in a slow and steady pace. He drew in a breath and grabbed her hand, pinning it and the other above her head as he leaned forward and suckled her right nipple.

She hissed in a breath and arched as a soft curse escaped her lips. “You are too deliberate.”

“I thought you liked deliberate?” he asked.

She felt his grin against her breast as he looked up at her. “I do, but it’s more difficult than I imagined.”

The spark in his gaze told her he delighted in her frustration. “I have a reputation for examining all the details. I don’t rush.”

“Time to shift to the bigger picture now, Detective.” Her voice had a breathless edge.

He pulled his hand between her breasts and down her flat belly to the small nest of curls. “But details matter. I’ve heard you say it several times.”

“So do results.” She cupped her breasts and knew he liked watching, that this deliberately slow attack on her senses was getting harder for him to maintain.

She opened her legs and pressed her mound against his erection, and when she saw the slight glimmer in his gaze darkening, she knew the time for teasing had ended. He reached for his erection and pressed it to her moist center.

He pushed into her body with a hard thrust. The invasion sent a wave of sensations rushing up through her like a crashing wave.

He paused. “You like that?”

“Yes.” A blush warmed her cheeks. She felt so alive. “I like it very much.”

He covered her body with his, moving in and out with hard, deep thrusts as he kissed her fully on the lips. Her body would take all of him. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel herself rushing to the edge. She was within seconds of release when he slowed his pace and suckled her nipple. She grew wetter.

His fingers moved in slow, steady circles. Reading the nuances of her tense muscles, he seemed to sense what brought her closer to orgasm and what delayed it. And every time she thought she would tumble, he stopped, kissed her, and stole her breath. Anticipation swirled around her as she anxiously waited for him to begin again.

He ran moist fingertips over her thigh. “Such beautiful legs. I’ve admired those legs since the first day I saw you.”

“Did you?”

“You were wearing black heels during that first class you taught at the bureau.”

Were they really talking about her shoes right now? “I always wear black heels.”

“I know. By my guess, you have at least three different pairs.”

Zoe lost count of how long he teased her, but he knew intimately her rhythms. When she really thought she would go mad with wanting, he hastened his tempo. This time when the edge came, they both plummeted over it. Delightful spasms rippled over her. He drove into her, moaning with desire. She gripped his arms and pressed her pelvis upward.

Zoe opened her eyes and locked on Vaughan’s gaze. For the first time, she saw him and not Jeff. In her mind, a distant door closed, and she did not race to reopen it. But this time, the sweetness outpaced the bitterness.


When Zoe awoke, the night sky was blanketed with stars. Moonlight bathed the row of houses across the street. She turned to her right.

She reached for her cell and saw that it was 4:26 a.m. Too early to get up, and yet her mind was fully awake and her body growing more restless by the second.

The sound of footsteps downstairs had her reaching for her robe and her gun. As she slid on the terry cloth and cinched the waist tight, she tiptoed across the room, taking inventory as she moved. All of Vaughan’s clothes were gone.

At the top of the stairs, she saw the soft glow of a light that appeared to be coming from the kitchen. Barefoot, she tightened her grip on her weapon. She stepped over the third step from the bottom to avoid its creak.

As she crossed through the living room, she spotted Vaughan’s jacket and caught the first whiff of coffee in the kitchen.

She lowered her weapon and stepped into the kitchen to find Vaughan sitting at her small kitchen table. He was reading Silas Marner.

“I just made a pot,” he said.

She set her weapon on the counter, removed a bone china cup from the cabinet, and filled it with coffee. “You will never get back to sleep if you drink coffee this early.”

“I never would have gotten back to sleep either way.” He closed his book. “I don’t sleep much. Haven’t since Nate was born.”

She wrapped her fingers around the cup, savoring the warmth. “I love to sleep. But I can’t remember the last time I slept late.”

Zoe sat across from him, sipped her coffee, and crossed her legs, knowing the folds of the robe would slip away.

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