She felt their bodies being drawn together, his lips brushing hers.

A shock went through her but instead of burning away the last of her doubts, it seemed to snap her out of whatever spell had possessed her. Instantly, they separated.

“I think that would be very nice,” she managed, flustered, trying to regain her composure. “I think dinner at the Lodge would be a great idea. Maybe sometime next week.”

“That’s fine,” he murmured. “I look forward to it.”

Silently, they walked slowly back down the narrow stairs, Elgin feeling the touch of his warm body in her back as they descended. On the deck, Chad picked up his sketchbook and charcoals and strode quickly down to the beach, settling himself on a flat rock in the shade of a giant old pine and began to draw.

Elgin stood at the railing, watching his every move. Inside, a gnawing hunger wrestled with a haunting uncertainty. This kind, gentle, sexy exterior couldn’t possibly hide a monster capable of terror and murder. Certainly not here in her own peaceful, safe haven. Someone who created such beauty would never do such a horrible thing.

He wanted her. Even if he hadn’t said the words, his body had been screaming its need, its desire, practically since he’d appeared so unexpectedly on her deck that morning. And she certainly didn’t need X-ray vision to see the bulge still pressing against his zipper. A bulge she’d put there without so much as a caress.

That thought sent tiny bolts of lightning coursing through her blood again. He had a gorgeous face and a beautiful body and she imagined him a thoughtful, gentle, skilled lover. There did not need to be any entanglements. A summer fling, and nothing more. And she had to admit he attracted her like no man had in a long time.

Harm.

Elgin frowned and bit her lip. Instantly, the prickles stopped.

He didn’t like Chad, she knew. Didn’t trust him. He’d made that plain enough after their first meeting. She’d invited him to come and paint but if she took him inside, upstairs, Harm would surely figure out the situation. And there were only so many errands she’d be able to send him on. Going out would only bring on suspicious questions. Not to mention he could always locate her with the ‘dog collar.’ Of course, she could “accidentally” forget to put it on, but he’d see through that in a minute.

She wanted to make love again. Feel a hot, hard cock in her wet, excited pussy. Passionate lips on hers, tender fingers on her swollen nipples. Slick, heated skin moving against slick, heated skin in a primal rhythm of need and fulfillment. She wanted to have scorching, animal lust, needy sex. And she wanted it soon.

Harm yawned and glanced at his watch. Almost one thirty. What could be taking so long?

As soon as he’d left Moon’s End, he’d headed straight for the secluded storage locker his people had been able to rent on short notice. Fortunately, he’d only had to drive a short distance to find it. Using the code number he’d been given, he’d pulled into the double garage sized unit, a tech had pulled down the door and the forensics team had gone to work.

They’d found smudged prints on the doors, the wheel, the gearshift and the emergency brake. Also hair and fiber trace evidence. From bumper to bumper, they’d gone over every centimeter of the SUV, including making sure that it hadn’t been damaged, accidentally or on purpose, by the incident. It had taken several hours and then several more as they’d searched the area of the accident, lookouts with two-way radios posted to warn them of anyone approaching from either end.

Comstock had been on the deck with Elgin, showing her his sketchbook, enjoying a beer and behaving like he owned the place when he’d finally returned, late in the afternoon. Even though the thorough background report had showed the artist to be everything he represented himself to be, Harm still didn’t like him; either personally with his boyish charm and easy sexuality, or professionally with his hanging around Elgin. Seeing Harm, he’d gathered himself up and made a hasty exit.

He’d grilled steak on the barbecue for their dinner. It had been a long time and he’d been hesitant about his rusty skills, but Elgin had insisted so he’d cranked up the grill and done a pretty fair job. She’d produced mixed fruit and potato salad and they’d watched a gorgeous sunset, lingering over a second Irish coffee before Elgin had gone upstairs about eleven.

Making an excuse that he wanted to watch the stars and enjoy the warm night air, Harm waited for the information about the SUV to arrive. He prayed they’d find some clue, no matter how small, to point him towards his quarry.

Restless, Harm got up and walked around the large main room. He’d had more coffee than he should have trying to stay awake but the inactivity and waiting were taking their toll. Sleep lurked just over the horizon of his mind. His body cried out for him to lie down and close his eyes. But he couldn’t risk his PDA’s mail alarm going off and waking Elgin and he needed to get the forensic information before morning. Especially if they’d turned up something solid.

Elgin’s books were upstairs in her bedroom. Even a sexy romance would have given him something to read, occupy his mind. Perhaps he could find something else lying around. A magazine. A cookbook. Anything.

Absently, he moved to a small desk sitting in an alcove by itself near the front door. He’d never seen Elgin use the desk but it was as good a place to start as any. The drawers contained nothing but dust, an old yellow legal tablet and a fountain pen with no ink. Except the last one on the right-hand side. Lying in the bottom, he found a thick sheaf of paper, covered in faded blue cardstock and held together with two brass brads. Curious, he reached in and removed it.

Another Love, A Novel by Elgin Collier.

Sheila Forbes had told him she wrote under a pen name. Gillian Something. Oh well, better than nothing. Picking up the manuscript, he went back over to the sofa and settled himself under the small reading lamp on the end table. Carefully, he placed his PDA on the table where he could watch the screen. Hopefully, this romantic trash would keep him awake until the forensic boys sent their information.

“How dare you!”

The scream more than the words ripped through his sleep and pulled him to groggy consciousness. Opening his eyes, he sat up and blinked, trying to figure out where he was and what was going on. Before his brain slipped into gear however, something heavy connected with the left side of his head, almost knocking him over again.

“Hey,” he yelped, grabbing his throbbing ear. “What the hell…?”

“You miserable, rotten, low down, good-for-nothing, weasel-hearted son of a bitch!” Something came at him again and instinctively he ducked, feeling air whiz by his head. Peeking up, he saw Elgin standing in front of the sofa, her face contorted and purple with rage, the manuscript in both hands, raised to her head and ready to swing again.

“What are doing? Are you crazy?”

“I’m going to kill you, you lying, sneaking, cold-blooded bastard and there’s not a jury in the world that would convict me. I’ll probably get a medal from the ‘Keep America Beautiful’ people. Consider it part of the vermin abatement program!” The manuscript flew at him again but he grabbed it and managed to wrestle it away from her.

“Stop it,” he shouted, finally getting to his feet. “Stop this crap and tell me what’s going on.”

Ten bright red claws arched out at his face. Grabbing her wrists, Harm marveled at her strength as she struggled to break free and reach him.

“Let go of me you contemptible prick! You pile of pig shit! When I get my hands on you…”