Page 43 of Four Cards Exposed

No fear.

Just blessed sleep.

She hadn’t slept the whole night straight in … months. She was lying on her side, her back against something hard and warm.

Too warm.

Too hard.

Everything that’d happened the night before came back to her in a rush. The fight. The kitten. The sex.

God, the sex.

She could blame it on the sex, though it’d felt like so much more than sex.

“Good morning,” James said, his morning voice deep and husky. Susan stifled a laugh as he pulled his lower body away from her.

Too late for that.

Susan clutched the sheet tighter around her chest and turned to face him—stared at his well-developed pectorals for an instant before raising her eyes to his face. Her breath caught, staring at his chiseled jaw and penetrating blue gaze.

So handsome she didn’t want to blink.

A moment later she winced, as she noticed the bruise on his cheek, which had turned a dark, angry purple overnight.

“Does it hurt?” she asked. Her finger hovered right over the bruise.

“It’s fine,” he said, sidestepping the question. “Let me make you breakfast?”

Her eyes roamed down his body until they got to the sheet covering him from the waist down. Underneath, she knew he was as naked as she was. His blue eyes darkened at her perusal. “Not that kind of breakfast. Coffee. I know you like coffee.”

“I love coffee,” Susan said, almost breathlessly.

“I’ll make you some coffee.” He sat up quickly and pulled on his shorts before she could get much of a view. He didn’t bother with underwear.

Susan pulled at the sheet, wrapping it around herself like a toga as she picked up her clothes off the floor.

She hadn’t looked at the bathroom in any amount of detail the night before. In the light of day, the space looked sad and decrepit. It was almost the exact twin of the one Susan shared with the other waitresses, just a few streets away.

Although clean and tidy, old grime had collected in the grout, making the tiles look more gray than white. The mirror was covered in black spots that looked like they must have been made by some abrasive cleaning product. Under normal circumstances, Susan wouldn’t have set foot inside, and she would bet good money it was even harder for James, who in his real life was always so put together.

She took a quick shower, then put on her old clothes again, foregoing the tights this time around. She looked around for a hairbrush, but all she could see was a slim comb, so she made do with her fingers.

By the time she got out, James had made coffee.

“I’m sorry. Instant coffee is all I have. I’m glad you don’t take any milk, as Charlie took it all.”

He remembers how I take my coffee.

Susan smiled, picking up the mug. “That’s okay. I didn’t exactly expect this place to come with a Nespresso machine.”

He’d also made scrambled eggs and toast. The plates and cutlery had been arranged symmetrically, aligned against the edge of the table.

It made Susan think of the starched shirts and perfectly polished shoes he’d always worn when he came to Sharp’s Cove on FBI business.

Precision was important to him.

“This is hard for you, isn't it?”