Before She Dies Read Free Page B

enough of her. The more she gave, the more he wanted.
    And the line she’d drawn between professional and personal had entirely faded—for him.
    Manicured fingers slid over the slip as she glanced at the clock on the nightstand, sighed, and collected her scattered clothes from the floor.
    He made no effort to hide his fascination with her. They’d shared this motel room five other times now, but he’d yet to see her fully naked. She had a long sleek form, creamy skin, a narrow tapered waist, and a nicely rounded bottom. He wasn’t sure what she hid from him, but found the mystery more consuming each time they had sex.
    Last time he’d seen the scar marring her side and thought he’d discovered her secret. When he’d asked her about it, she’d shrugged and said, “I was shot.”
    Curious, he’d pulled the police file and read the details of the shooting. It had occurred three years ago. She’d been working late. A client’s hit man had entered her office and shot her because she’d been considered a loose end. Bleeding and alone, she’d escaped to a bathroom and locked the door. The shooter, unable to reach her, had barricaded her inside and left her for dead. It would be another eight hours before she would escape and call 911. The crime scene photos had stirred primal anger in him. Even now he could vividly recall photo images of her blood staining the bathroom’s carpeted floor; the door hinges she wedged free with the tip of her high heels; and her bloodied silk blouse left behind by EMTs.
    “Do you think about the shooting?” he’d said as he’d kissed the scar.
    She threaded her fingers through his hair. “No.”
    “It’s got to bother you.”
    Her fingers stilled. “I never dwell on the past.”
    If she weren’t hiding the bullet hole scar, then why not take off the slip? Last night when he’d tried to tug it off her, she’d resisted. What else was there to hide?
    She slipped on her blouse and efficiently buttoned it. Sliding on a pencil-thin black skirt, she tucked in her shirttail and with the flick of the zipper was again all elegance and class. Maybe some old lesson from charm school kept her from stripping totally.
    Thinking about that slip and what it hid gave him another hard-on. “Why don’t you stay?”
    She found her panties and, facing him, tucked them in her purse. “We both have early calls.”
    “You gave your final summation yesterday. The pressure is off until the jury comes back. Go in to the office late today. You’ve earned it.”
    She arched a neat eyebrow. “I’ve never been late before.”
    He propped his head on his hand. “Be late.”
    “Why?”
    “Once is not enough when it comes to you.”
    She readjusted her pearl necklace so the diamond clasp was again in the back. A smile played with the corners of her lips. “I wish I could stay for an encore. Really. But I’ve got appointments.”
    “All work and no play makes Charlotte a dull girl, counselor.”
    “All work keeps Charlotte liquid and her bills paid, detective.”
    Naked, he rose off the bed and moved toward her until he was inches away. Towering, he fingered the pearls around her neck. She smelled of Chanel and him. “We should have dinner sometime.”
    She grinned. “We just had dessert.”
    “I’m talking about real food. Tables, chairs, forks, knives, and spoons.”
    She didn’t pull away. “I don’t think so.”
    “You’ve got to eat sometime.”
    “We drew a line. It has to remain fixed and secure.”
    He curled the pearls around his index finger. “The defense attorney doesn’t want to be seen with a cop?”
    “Maybe the cop shouldn’t be seen with the older defense attorney.”
    “Three years doesn’t count as older. And I don’t care who sees me with you.”
    She untangled his finger from her pearls. “We are judged by the company we keep.”
    The wistful, if not sad, edge surprised him. She wasn’t talking about him. But who? Another mystery. Another reason to want