Hiding His Witness

by C. J. Miller

  “Deep down he’s a coward,” Reilly said. He could have guessed as much about Sundry. “What’s the likelihood he’ll come after Carey?”

  “That’s where my profile gets speculative. He would view her as strong, since she survived an altercation with him. In my opinion there’s a good chance he’s formed an obsession with her.”

  Reilly let go a curse. He’d known the situation was difficult, but a serial killer and a crime lord with an obsession with Carey? Worst kind of attention.

  “Come home. Dad had one of his SEAL buddies here arming the house with more firepower, configuring the security system and making the safe house strong enough to withstand a nuclear holocaust. Mom’s been worried sick. You can’t stay awake around the clock and Carey isn’t trained to protect herself. I know you’re worried about luring them here, but the alternative is that we come to you. We’ve got to circle the wagons.”

  Circle the wagons. It was their family’s war cry when one of them was at risk. Get close and stay close. Watch each other’s backs. Harris was right. “I’m going to get some sleep. We’ll head for the ranch first thing in the morning.”

  “Call if you need anything,” Harris said, relief evident in his voice.

  “Will do. Give my love to everyone.”

  They disconnected the call and Reilly silenced the prepaid phone then laid it on the dresser. He didn’t want any more distractions. For the next six to eight hours, he was alone in this hotel room with Carey. The kisses they’d shared lingered on his mind. Denying his attraction to her and pretending he could wait had only made desire throb harder in his veins. Make the best use of now. Live for the moment. Make her see how good the future could be. The idea of taking Carey in his arms was more than he could resist.

  Beautiful Carey, currently lying naked in the bathtub.

  Chapter 11

  Reilly heard gentle splashes of Carey in the bathtub. Taking the lead from their kiss and fully intending to pick up where they’d been before his brother’s call, he knocked on the door to the bathroom.

  “Come in,” she said, her voice warm and inviting.

  He opened the door and stepped inside. The steam of her bath had fogged the mirror. She was hidden beneath the white iridescent bubbles.

  “Looks like you’re having fun,” he said. He was barely holding on to his self-control, his body completely aroused.

  She lifted her head from the tub where she’d been reclining, a towel rolled under her neck. “It’s been close to a year since I’ve had a bubble bath. The bathtub in my apartment never felt clean enough for a soak.” Hot water dripped into the tub from the faucet.

  His eyes roamed across her face and then skittered across the bubbles. The scent of the bath, floral and spicy, floated in the air. Lust wound tight inside him.

  Entering this bathroom was crossing a line. It was a step he was ready to make. To put his concerns as a detective aside to try to give her a sense of safety and security in him as a man.

  She could count on him completely. He needed her to believe that and to believe in the future. His career came second to her. Second to her needs.

  “Everything okay with your family?” she asked. “You’re looking at me strangely.” She looked down and moved the bubbles around, checking that she was covered.

  Reilly knelt on the floor next to the tub. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s not just a compliment. You’re beautiful and smart and caring. You deserve to have an amazing life.”

  She shifted. “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I get it. You don’t have to soften the rejection with compliments. I know we have to have boundaries and that kiss wasn’t supposed to happen. We can leave it at a kiss. It doesn’t have to happen again.”

  She wasn’t getting it. He was going to show her. “I want it to happen again. The first moment I saw you, the night you came running out of the alley, my first instinct was to get to you and hold you. I wanted you. I pride myself on being professional and distant. But with you, that was impossible. I want you, Carey, and I’m tired of fighting it.”

  Her eyes blazed into his. “Would you like to join me?” she asked almost shyly.

  Her invitation was irresistible. He peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. She was pure temptation and a deep, burning need seared him. He wouldn’t let the case stand between him and Carey, not anymore. He was lying to himself, pretending they had slept together once and it had been a mistake that was easily forgotten. What they had together had grown beyond lineups, a protector-witness relationship and a one-night fling. They had now and they had a future. He was staking his bets on it.

  Carey flicked some water on him and grinned. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

  * * *

  Carey knew the sacrifice he was making. He was putting her first, ahead of his career. When had anyone put her first? It felt amazing. In that moment she felt cherished and cared for.

  “Where’s the phone?” she asked.

  “Silenced in the other room.”

  No distractions. No interruptions. She wanted Reilly to herself. “Get in.”

  Carey shifted in the tub making room for him to slide in behind her. Stripping off the last of his clothes, he stepped into the tub and brought the other foot over the ledge. He sat behind her, extending his legs around her body.

  She relaxed against him, resting her head against his chest. “Doesn’t this feel nice?”

  He ran his hands over her belly, pushing aside the bubbles and cupping her breasts in his hands. His arousal pressed into her back. “Very nice.”

  She giggled and set her hand on his thighs, squeezing them, her nails scraping lightly. “You have to get clean before we play.”

  “I’d rather play and then get clean.”

  She didn’t want to rush. Not tonight. They were alone in a hotel room, and if they were lucky, they had an entire night together. She wanted him; she wanted this. For the first time in over eleven months, when she closed her eyes and thought of the future, she could see something besides crappy jobs and lonely apartments. She could see Reilly in the near future, spending Christmas with him, and in the distant future, spending her life with him.

  She’d never allowed herself the luxury of imagining before. Not with Mark looking for her. Not with the past chasing her. Carey shut down those destructive thoughts. Whatever was going to happen with Mark, he wouldn’t terrorize her tonight. Not tonight.

  Carey took the blue bar of soap from the ledge and rubbed it between her hands. Then she ran it over Reilly’s arms and legs, working the soap into bubbles while she massaged his taut muscles. As she turned in his arms, water rushed from her body into the tub and she rose from the bubbles, kneeling in front of him.

  “Your muscles are tight. Are you nervous?” she asked. She didn’t want him to be. She wanted him to be as calm as she was. Though they’d made love before, something about this time was different. The trust and honesty between them made the connection stronger, deeper.

  “Not nervous,” he said, his gaze heated. “Excited.”

  She moved the soap around his neck and chest, rinsing him with the hot water from the tub. As her hands lathered the soap on his skin, Reilly clasped her waist, fire blazing from his touch. The contact burned her to her core. Her hand moved beneath the water and skimmed between his legs, closing over him. He bucked against her hand.

  Her breath escaped on a whispered sigh. She slid her hand over him and he shifted his body, reaching for her and sending a finger inside her.

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, her grip on him loosening. New tides of anticipation flooded her.

  Reilly stood and pulled her to her feet, flicking the drain open and turning on the shower. A quick blast of cold, followed by steaming hot water poured over them.

  He pressed her against the tile of the shower and she gasped. Her ribs still ached when she moved in certain ways, but what Reilly was do
ing to her felt so good her injuries became a distant memory. “It’s cold.”

  “Give me a chance to make it hot.” He nuzzled her neck and brought his mouth to hers, kissing her indulgently, deeply, his tongue stroking hers, building their pleasure until she couldn’t think about anything except the electric press of skin against skin and her body melting into his.

  He parted her thighs, lifting her foot and setting it on the ledge of the tub. His body was in line with hers and he was ready. He paused. “I need a minute.”

  He kissed her hard and got out of the tub. Her legs quaked and she gripped the shower head to maintain her balance. He returned in a moment, foil packet in hand.

  Carey waited with growing anticipation. Sheathing himself, he reached between her legs and ran his finger along the apex of her thighs. She needed this. She needed him. She was hot and ready, and she moved her hips against him in invitation.

  He reached to her lower back and pulled her body against him, capturing her mouth with his in a slow, deep kiss. He tasted of mint and smelled of spice. Fresh and masculine, both calming her and arousing her at once.

  He positioned himself between her legs. The need was overpowering. Slowing down was impossible. In one smooth motion, he buried himself inside her. She cried out, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. He moved out and in, out and in, pleasure building in her core. Excitement escalated inside her and she grasped his hips, urging him faster. He cupped under her buttocks, lifting her into his arms, sliding her against him and creating the perfect friction between their bodies. Their wet mouths slipped together, their tongues stroking, tasting. They fit perfectly as he pushed into her. Wrapping her arms around him, she accepted him as a part of her.

  With insistent, powerful thrusts, he pumped into her, faster, deeper, until she found release in his arms. She cried out his name and moments later he exploded inside her, moving slower as her climax eased. Incredible. The power of their love-making made her body quiver.

  He set her feet on the tub and disposed of the condom, letting the water ripple over their bodies.

  She waited to feel sadness at the idea it was the last time. None came. No sense of loss hit her. This wasn’t a mistake. This was good. This was right. For the first time, they were on the same page, in this together, without secrets between them.

  Reilly had given her the fragile, delicate hope that she could leave the past behind her and start over fresh.

  A new life. A clean start.

  Hope. Wonderful hope. Only the knowledge that Mark was out there, still looking for her, threatened to destroy it.

  * * *

  Carey slept curled next to him, her back pressed to his chest, her hips nestled into the curve of his body. Reilly let his hand drift along her side. He had missed having this connection with someone. The children running through the halls had settled around 10:00 p.m. and with Carey’s warm body tucked against him, it had been easy to drift off to sleep for a couple of hours. He woke several times throughout the night, once when a door slammed in the hallway, alert to anyone approaching their room.

  Lying in the dark, he worked his mind over the ways Mark or John Sundry could trace them. Reilly had checked into the hotel using cash and a hefty deposit. Few people had seen him and Carey together, and they’d changed locations twice since the attack at the police station. The hotel was filled with harried holiday travelers, making it easy to blend. He wasn’t driving his car and the rental could belong to any number of visitors.

  But he wasn’t going to get too comfortable. He’d underestimated Mark before and had nearly paid for it with his and Carey’s lives. They needed to keep moving, make sure they weren’t followed, and get somewhere safe.

  Reilly was accustomed to going with five or six hours’ sleep and a few naps in between shifts. Crimes he worked haunted him, making his thoughts race and chasing away sleep. This one was no different, except that he had the witness with him in his arms. He was responsible for keeping her safe. He rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling, trying to force his mind to slow enough to sleep another hour.

  Carey let out a contented sigh and shifted, slipping her arm around his waist. He drew her against him and a sense of utter peace fell over him. He couldn’t put his finger on the precise moment his feelings for her had changed. She wasn’t just a witness in a case he was working. She was someone he wanted in his life for more than the present. He wanted her for keeps.

  Chapter 12

  “You’re just in time,” Jane said as Carey and Reilly came through the front door, stomping their boots on the welcome mat to bang off the snow.

  Carey inhaled the scent of freshly baked cookies and her stomach growled. They’d taken a longer, indirect route, Reilly’s concern about being followed ever present, and they’d stopped only once for gas and snacks.

  Reilly unwound the scarf from his neck. “In time for what?”

  “We’re trimming the Christmas tree,” Jane said, taking their coats.

  Brady appeared in the hallway, holding a mug in his hand. “You missed the hard part. Mom made us chop down a tree from the woods and haul it in here.”

  “Tradition,” Jane said, turning to Carey. “Did your family chop down a Christmas tree every year?”

  Carey shook her head. “No, we hired people to come to the house to decorate and trim the tree.” Those same people wrapped garland around the banisters and laid it on the mantle, leaving the house scented in pine and glimmering with lights and glitter. Soon after Christmas, they returned to take away the decorations, vacuuming and wiping up every last bit of sparkle.

  “Maybe you’ll get a chance to help us next year,” Jane said.

  Optimistic. Possible. That fragile hope that Reilly had instilled in her cried out with joy. Carey was quick to temper it. She would take it day by day.

  “I’ve fixed some snacks and we’re getting ready to put the balls on the tree. Do you want to help?” Jane asked.

  Carey glanced at Reilly, unsure if she should beg off and leave his family to their traditions. He nodded once and smiled at her as if to say, “I want you to join us.”

  Carey’s heart warmed in her chest. “That sounds like fun.”

  She followed Jane to the living room where Doc was holding the tree by the trunk and Harris was beneath it, affixing the stand.

  Jane knelt by a red plastic container with a green lid, popping the sides open and lifting it. The inside was filled with colored ornaments, red, green, gold and silver. Jane hooked a few ornaments and carried them to the tree. Reilly turned on Christmas music, playing it low.

  Carey was unsure of where she fit in here. Everyone else seemed to have a role. She was the outsider.

  Reilly motioned for her to come over. He handed her an ornament with his name scrawled across it. “I made this in the third grade.”

  She examined the gingerbread man with silver writing on the front. “That’s pretty good handwriting for a boy.”

  Reilly lifted his brows. “I always was an overachiever.”

  Brady snorted. “You mean you’ve always had girly handwriting.”

  “You’re just jealous because no one can read your writing,” Harris said, nudging Brady in the ribs.

  Carey listened to their familiar banter and smiled at their teasing. Being an only child with one parent had been lonely at times. She’d never had that warm familiarity with anyone.

  Carey walked to the tree and placed the ornament near the center, turning it so Reilly’s name faced out. She started when he set his hands on her hips and brought his mouth close to her ear. “Looks great.”

  Turning, she pushed his shoulders slightly. She felt his family’s curious gazes. “I can’t take credit for that. I didn’t pick the tree and I put on one ornament.”

  He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “What makes you think I was talking about the tree?”

  Her cheeks flushed hot, knowing his family had heard but were pretending they hadn’t. Something had changed between her
and Reilly in the last few days, their relationship moving to deeper levels, faster than she’d thought possible. His positive outlook had started to rub off on her. She wanted to believe her problems would work out, that Mark and the Vagabond Killer would be caught and jailed and she’d be safe to live her life out in the open—no hiding, no running—with Reilly at her side.

  * * *

  Reilly couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Carey was beautiful. He’d thought it from the first moment he’d met her and seeing her with his family felt right. She fit.

  He’d tried to ignore the attraction. He’d tried to maintain his distance. But it had been futile. They belonged together.

  “Is this a Christmas Eve Truman family tradition?” Carey asked, taking a seat on the floor near the fireplace.

  “This and the town Christmas party,” Brady said.

  Reilly shot his brother a silencing look. Carey had asked about the banner announcing the town’s Christmas party as they’d driven in and Reilly had waved off the question. His family attended every year, but they wouldn’t this year. Carey would be noticed as an out-of-towner and people would ask questions they didn’t want to have to answer.

  “It’s a small get-together held in the mayor’s barn. We weren’t planning to attend,” Doc said and Reilly mentally thanked his father for knowing he wouldn’t want to go.

  Carey narrowed her eyes and looked around the room. Everyone refused to make eye contact with her. “Because of me?”

  Reilly took her hand, the contact elevating his body temperature and stirring his emotion. He would do anything to protect her. She didn’t need to lump more guilt onto herself. Carey’s safety was more important than a holiday gathering. “It’s safer for us to stay here.”

  Carey pulled her hand away. “Everyone doesn’t need to stay with me. You should go. All of you. I’ll be fine here by myself. I’ll find a good holiday movie on TV and relax on the couch.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jane said. “We’re not leaving you alone on Christmas Eve.”

  They fell silent except for the sound of the crackling fire.