A Killer's Agenda (14 page)

“Next stop Virginia?”

She nodded. “I’ve got names and addresses of those two boys

that were killed. Both mothers have agreed to meet with us.”

Brad glanced at his watch. “It’s too late to travel that distance tonight. How about we find somewhere to spend the night and

head out in the morning?”

“Good idea. If memory serves, there’s a hotel ahead about two miles on the right. I’ve stayed there once or twice when we were visiting my uncle.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s a shame we don’t have more time or I’d suggest we visit Aunt Kathy and Uncle Brian. Problem is, if we do I’m sure they’ll insist we stay with them.” She eyed him, a smile teasing her lips. “I’ve got a feeling you might not be comfortable with that.”

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He shrugged, glancing her way. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we

could continue that male bonding you detest so much.”

“No way. Find the hotel,” she said, laughing.

A few minutes later they were both walking into the lobby.

“May I help you, sir?” the desk clerk asked respectfully.

“I’d like a room for the night. Non-smoking with two double

beds.”

The young man nodded. “No problem. Just sign the registry

and I’ll get your key.” He pushed several pieces of paper across the desk and walked toward the back wall.

Alex arched a brow. “Two double beds?”

He raised his gaze to hers. “Don’t argue with me on this, Alex. I don’t feel comfortable with you in another room right now no matter how proficient you are with that gun. Remember our friend on the road back there knows my car and license plates.”

Alex waited until Brad finished filling out the forms and

pocketed the key. She tucked her arm in his as they opened the glass doors and headed toward the car again.

“I wasn’t going to argue about the room, just the beds.”

He opened the trunk and pulled out both suitcases. “Now

what’s that suppose to mean?”

She grabbed hers before he could and began walking, her eyes narrowed as she looked for the room number. “I just thought it would be more comfortable if you just got one king,” she tossed over her shoulder. “After all, there’s no point in having two beds if we’re only going to use one.”

He simply stood there for a few moments, just watching her

walk away. Then he grabbed his own suitcase and strode toward her.

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She waited until he was beside her, then tilted her chin,

waiting for the reaction she knew was coming.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“I thought we’d gone past that,” she said, eyes steady and

direct.

“Past what?”

“Past the artifice.”

She picked the key neatly from his hand and opened the door.

The room was generic, like most hotel rooms, clean and functional.

She flipped her suitcase onto the bed and stretched. He caught her arms as they came down, wrapping them around his neck

She looked up at him. “I think it’s your move.”

She had just a moment to see the purpose in his eyes before he lowered his head. This was no gentle kiss, nor did she want gentle.

She moved closer, her hands wandering over his broad shoulders and thick hair as he plundered her mouth. He lifted his lips fractionally from hers, a smile tugging at the corner.

“Is that sufficiently past the artifice?”

She lifted a finger to trace his jaw, feeling the stubble of whiskers that darkened it. “It’s a start.” She eased herself out of his arms and opened her suitcase. “I call the bathroom first.” She flicked open her suitcase and disappeared.

He shook his head as he unpacked. She had him totally off

balance and he found himself wanting her more than ever.

Wanting to continue digging into what made her tick. He smiled wryly. It was a good bet it would take a lifetime to figure that one out.

He wandered to the door and made sure the lock and deadbolt

were secure, his thoughts turning to the events of the day. Donna

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Trent felt the same way about her friend’s death as he felt about his aunt’s. Somehow that made everything more real, even more urgent. He walked back to the bed and reached inside his duffle bag, his fingers finding the hard metal of his gun. He didn’t need to pull it out to confirm it was loaded, the safety securely in place. He flipped open his cell phone and checked in with Peter, who assured him everything was fine. Just as he disconnected the call, the bathroom door opened.

Immediately the room was enveloped with the fresh scent of

jasmine as Alex walked out toweling her long hair. He hid a smile, shaking his head. Obviously Alex’s idea of seduction didn’t include sexy clothing and makeup. She had on a button down nightshirt that went past her knees and her face was freshly scrubbed, nose shining. She tossed the towel on the sink and flung her hair back.

It settled in a curly mass around her shoulders as she grinned up at him.

“Your turn.”

His gaze slid from her fragrant curls downward, taking in the hint of cleavage beneath the simple cotton of the shirt. Suddenly he couldn’t think of anything sexier.

“My turn can wait,” he murmured, walking toward her.

She closed her eyes as he pulled her into his arms, caressing her neck with gentle fingers. He smiled slightly when his thumb ran over the pulse at the base of her throat. “Kind of fast, isn’t it?”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh yeah? Want to see how fast I can make yours race?”

He didn’t have a chance to respond before she wrapped her

arms around his neck. Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his. He could smell her shampoo, the subtle fragrance of her skin as she

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ran her hands along his back, her fingers caressing and exciting.

Her breasts were pressed against his chest, erect nipples taunting him as she continued her exploration. When she ventured lower, he captured her fingers in his and backed away, breathing hard and fast.

“Okay, I surrender. You win, big time.”

She smiled, reaching for him again but he shook his head,

keeping her at a safe distance, his eyes boring into hers.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Alex?”

She stilled. “Ready for what, Brad?”

“What this will do to our relationship.”

“Having sex?”

“No. Making love. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” she said, meeting his eyes candidly.

“You know damn well there is,” he growled.

“Show me,” she invited.

There was only so much a man could take, he thought. Only so much he could resist. Without another word he pressed her

against the bed and bent his head.

Alex moaned as he nipped and kissed the curve of her cheek,

her earlobes and the soft nape of her neck. His hands were busy unbuttoning her nightshirt, replacing the material with his lips, breathing in the heat and musk of her skin.

“God, you’re beautiful!”

She smiled, slender arms reaching up to pull him on top of her.

“And you’ve got too many clothes on,” she complained. He groaned as she began a heated trail of her own, paying little attention to the buttons she impatiently let fly as she pulled his shirt off of him.

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She paused, her voice husky. “You’re rather beautiful yourself, Bradley Norton.”

While she pulled impatiently at the rest of his clothes, his lips found the rosy tips of her breasts and he feasted on first one, then the other. She arched against him, her hands fisting in his dark hair. He ventured lower to the soft skin of her belly, licking and kissing, feeling her quivering beneath him. She went wild as his tongue found the tender skin of her inner thigh and he slowly moved upward to her most intimate and sensitive spots.

Shifting frantically, she guided him upward. He groaned with pleasure as she curled her fingers around him. When he could bear her caresses no longer, he captured her arms and placed them above her head with one hand. Pulse pounding, he waited for her to look up at him, her eyes violent with need. It was then he buried himself deep within her.

“Oh, sweet Lord,” she gasped as he found her breasts again,

teasing and nipping as he drove deeper and harder. When he

spilled himself inside her, she was with him, their moans blending.

It was long minutes before either of them could move. The

jasmine still floated in the air, mixed with the sweet musk of passion as he gazed down at her. Her eyes were dark and

smoldering as she returned his gaze.

“So that was making love?” she murmured.

His laughter was muffled as he shifted and tucked her next to him, wrapping the sheet around both of them. “Well it sure as hell wasn’t just sex, that’s for sure.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I’m glad you feel that way,”

she said finally, “because I don’t make a habit of doing this kind of

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thing.” At his raised brow, she smiled faintly. “I know. I can put on an act when I want to.”

“An act?” he asked darkly.

“Of the confident woman about town. I’ve had to all my life.

Little Alex can’t do that, she’s too small,” she mimicked, her volatile eyes flashing. “Little Alex couldn’t possibly be a detective, she’s too frail. I got so damn sick of everyone coddling me, thinking I didn’t have a brain because I was only five feet tall.” She slid her glance back to him. “I learned to go after what I wanted with a vengeance.”

He tucked an errant curl away from her forehead. “So are you saying you wanted me?” he teased.

“Since the first moment I met you.”

His gaze shot to hers. “Could have fooled me.”

She trilled a laugh. “Still rankles doesn’t it? My not falling all over tall, dark and handsome you?”

“Actually, I didn’t expect you to.” He leaned back against the pillow, absently rubbing a thumb along her bare arm. “I was too busy getting over the fact that you weren’t a man.” His gaze shifted back to hers. “In fact, I’m still trying to come to terms with who you really are. Just when I think I’ve got it all figured out, you do something that has me scratching my head again.”

“Life would be boring if it was always predictable.”

“I didn’t think so until I met you.”

She raised herself on one elbow. “I think that was a

compliment.”

“It was.” His glance rose to the picture across the room from them and then slid back to her. “Did someone tell you that you couldn’t paint?”

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He saw the surprise flicker in her eyes. “What brought that

on?”

“Because the day I saw the paintings in your office was the only time I sensed just a hint of uncertainty beneath all that confidence you exude.”

She curled next to him again, her expression serious. “You’re rather astute, you know that?”

He didn’t answer but just waited.

She hesitated, considering, her green eyes looking past him for a moment. “I was in the eighth grade and already my favorite subject was art. I loved taking a blank canvas and bringing it to life with color.” She shifted restlessly. “My parents had always

encouraged my artistic ability and, up until then, so had my teachers. Then I had Mrs. Maine.”

He captured her hand, tugging her next to him again. “She

didn’t feel the same way?”

“Quite the contrary. She insisted my parents enroll me in an art course at the local college. One she taught. I remember being so excited, feeling so grown up. Me, thirteen years old and in college!”

“I gather things didn’t go well?” he asked, his lips settling on one bare shoulder.

She shoved him gently. “Now how am I going to tell you if you keep distracting me?”

He touched his lips to her skin again and then settled back

against the pillow. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Go on.”

“Our first assignment was drawing a model. A skinny blonde

with big blue eyes and a haughty expression. I didn’t like the idea right from the start. Everything I had created up to that point had

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been strictly from my very vivid imagination. I didn’t like having parameters, being told what and how to paint.” She saw the look in his eyes. “Okay, so maybe I was just a little bit stubborn.”

He let that go, seeing the challenge in her expression. “So you didn’t paint the model?”

“Oh, sure, I painted her. Just not in the same way. She was too exotic, too perfect for me. I made her a little less so.”

“And how did you do that?” he asked in amusement.

Her lips curved. “Well, let’s say instead of being tall, willowy and gorgeous, I made her short, plump and slightly homely. I thought it was great but my illustrious teacher wasn’t as

impressed. I could have handled the criticism, but my thirteen-year-old psyche couldn’t handle the humiliation in front of the entire class.”

He ran soothing fingers along her arm. “She embarrassed you?”

“She did more than that, Brad. It was apparent she thought I was mocking her and, although that was never my intention, she criticized everything she could possibly think of about the painting.

The color usage, the proportions, the inability to follow directions. I ran from the room crying and never went back. Needless to say, my father paid her a visit but I refused to return and finally my parents gave up.”

He raised himself up on one elbow, shaking his head. “You

mean to tell me just that one experience prevented you from

pursuing a career in something you’re obviously so talented in?”

He tipped her chin up. “That doesn’t sound like the woman I’ve come to know.”

“Obviously not, since you’ve seen some of my paintings,” she shot back.

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“But the question is how many other people have?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

He regarded her silently for a long moment. “Yeah, I think it does. For every one Mrs. Maine in the world, Alex, there are hundreds of people that would appreciate that insight, that ability to take imagination and bring it to life. I know I did.”