How to Save A Life

Chapter 7

What the... She pushed her hair back from her face and held her head. Then she remembered.

"Trey!" She scrambled out from under the covers, terror gripping her in a frigid clasp. He was down there. She dashed out of the room, oblivious to the fact she was half-naked. In her haste, her bare foot snagged on the carpet and she tripped. She grabbed the railing, caught herself, hair falling in her face, then stumbled down the rest of the stairs.

The front door was still secure. Blankets were in a heap on the floor and Trey was nowhere to be seen. Her glance ricocheted around the room, then she lurched into her kitchen. The back door stood open, the cool night air blowing in and raising goose bumps on her bare skin. She ran to the door and grabbed it, using it to hold herself up, her legs shaky, knees weak.

"God, no," she whimpered looking out into the darkness. Frantically she searched her small dark yard for Trey, but saw nothing. "Oh. Oh, no."

She grabbed the cordless phone off the charger on the counter and, with fingers shaking almost uncontrollably, she punched in 911, running back out onto her deck to scan the yard. She was gasping out answers to the operator's calm questions when Trey appeared on the steps of the deck.

"Son of a bitch." He bent at the waist, panting. "He got away." He lifted his head and looked at her. "Get back in the house, for God's sake. You have no clothes on."

She looked down at herself, then back at him. "Who cares? Jesus, you're bossy."

"Marli, someone just tried to break into your house. Again. Listen to me."

She backed up, and he came toward her, slamming the door shut behind him. It bounced open again. The lock had been damaged so it wouldn't close. "Shit," he muttered.

The alarm was still wailing. "Is it connected to the police?" he asked as she scurried to the control panel.

"Yes. I already called them." She punched in the code, this time remembering it, and silence descended.

She looked at Trey as she hung up the phone. "I can't believe this," she whispered. She covered her face with her hands. "I just cannot believe this."

He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "God, Marli, it's okay. You're okay, and I'm here. And I'm not leaving. I don't care what you say."

That was fine with her. She might have protested earlier, but now? No way. He could stay forever.

"After the cops come, I'm going to nail the door shut for tonight," he said. "We'll get you a new door tomorrow. And on second thought, I'm not staying here tonight."

Her heart dropped to her toes. "You're...you're not?"

He shook his head. "And neither are you. I'm taking you back to my hotel with me. Even with an alarm this place isn't safe."

"He won't try again tonight. He can't be that stupid." She was afraid even to think about going to Trey's hotel room with him.

"No, he's not stupid," he agreed. "And he likely won't try again tonight. Even so, we're leaving. Get dressed."

Man, he liked to give orders. Funny, she'd never noticed that about him when they'd been talking and laughing at Cactus Jack's. But put the man in a crime scene and he was spouting commands and orders all over the place. She did what he said, though, his forceful, self-assured presence only adding to the sense of security she felt with him.

Trey dealt with the police, boarded her back door shut, and then carried the small duffel bag she'd packed for the night out to her car. He drove back to Cactus Jack's. The neon sign was dark, the bar closed.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"Getting my vehicle. Barnes probably knows your car, so I don't want to take it to the hotel."

He parked her car on the street in front of his, and they got into his car and drove the few blocks to the Rocky Harbor Inn. They walked through the deserted lobby to the elevators.

They rode up in silence. He was intensely aware of her in the elevator, images of her in her white lace bra and panties flashing through his mind. Diamonds flashing in the shallow indentation of her navel. Jesus. That was not where his mind should be right now. There was a lunatic killer after her. And it was his fault.

He slid his key card in and out and shoved down on the lever to open the door. He hit the switch on the wall and a lamp illuminated the dark space.

The king-size bed dominated the room, but a small, nicely furnished sitting area occupied a corner in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Sliding doors opened onto a small balcony looking out over the Pacific Ocean. Fronds of a palm tree swayed just next to the second-floor balcony railing.

The sky was the deep, intense dark blue that preceded dawn. Man, what a night.

He turned to Marli, dropping her bag onto the dresser. He moved over to her.

"You're amazing," he said. She'd been through worse than he had and was still standing. She was pale and kept swallowing convulsively, but she was hanging in there.

"No, I'm not," she whispered.

When he touched his mouth to hers, she looked up at him with huge eyes, their sparkle dimmed by fatigue.

"We both need to get some sleep." He unzipped her black hoodie sweatshirt and pushed it off her shoulders. Underneath, she wore a thin ribbed white tank, the lacy cups of her bra clearly visible through it. He sucked in a breath, trying to remember that sleep was the goal.

He looked down and his fingers undid the drawstring tie of her black yoga pants, sitting low on her hips. Then he slid a finger inside them, tugging them looser until they dropped to the floor.

He reached down and yanked back the covers of the bed so she could crawl in. To his surprise, she did so without arguing with him, for once. Man, she was one determined lady. She should be a sniveling heap on the floor, yet she still stood up to him when he tried to tell her what to do. He couldn't help but smile.

"What's so funny?" she murmured, as she settled her head into the pillow.

"You are." He tucked the blankets around her. "You're awesome."

"Oh. Okay." Her eyes were drifting closed already. "Tell me more about that later."

Still smiling, he went and hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside of the door and flipped the security lock into place. Then he shed his own clothes and slid naked under the covers.

Remarkably, Marli's breathing had slowed, telling him she was asleep. She must have been exhausted. So was he, but having her next to him in the bed, the warmth of her body, the soft sounds of her breathing, was making him so horny he doubted sleep would be possible.

Trey woke up long before Marli did. For a while, he lay there watching her sleep.

She fascinated him. His eyes moved over her hair, so bright and shiny, long coils spread around her face on the pillow. He lifted one curl from her face and placed it behind her. Eyebrows and long, long eyelashes a darker shade of gold framed her eyes. Her skin was impossibly smooth and creamy. She was obviously not the typical California golden girl who baked in the sun. She lay on her side facing him and one slim shoulder curved out from beneath the covers, the thin strap of her bra slipping down. Her breast was falling out of the cup, the smooth, full curve enticing, the nipple almost revealed. With one finger, he could edge the cup back a little more and see all of her, but he resisted, determined to let her get as much sleep as she could.

A little mole marked her chest, just at the edge of her right breast, which he also longed to touch. He sighed. He was a patient man. He could wait hours at a hostage situation, question witnesses with endless endurance, pore over investigation material at length, but he found himself impatient for Marli.

He slid out of the bed and rummaged in his suitcase for clean underwear. He pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs, then a pair of baggy cargo shorts. He didn't bother with a shirt.

He found his laptop, plugged in to the high-speed internet connection provided by the hotel and booted it up. He started surfing the net, searching for news stories of Sheldon Barnes.

He learned as much as he could about the most recent murder, but he really needed to talk to the feds. He sighed. His suspension was over. Now he was on vacation, so maybe they'd talk to him.

As he surfed the net and read, he couldn't help but think about the night his life had all gone to shit. The night he'd let Sheldon Barnes walk out of that bar.

The woman Sheldon had been with that night had gotten lucky. She'd somehow convinced Sheldon to stop at a store so she could use the bathroom and had run like hell out the back door.

But Krista Mackie hadn't been so lucky.

Every murder victim touched something inside Trey, but he'd learned over the years to shut off that part of him. He couldn't do his job if emotion distracted him. But knowing Krista was Marli's best friend and seeing the pain in Marli's face made him able to clearly imagine the last moments of Krista's life.

Guilt ate at him. Marli's friend would still be alive if he hadn't been wallowing in self-pity that night at the Pinto Club. He hadn't told Marli that part yet. He so did not want to tell her that part.

He sighed.

Marli stirred in the bed, and he glanced over at her. Her eyes flickered open. She looked so different without mascara on those gold eyelashes. Softer...vulnerable. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

"Hey," he said softly, "you're awake."

"Yeah." She pulled the covers up under her chin and stayed there.

He wondered if she was shy about getting out of bed with him there. "Do you want me to...uh...go out on the balcony?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then laughed. "God, no." She threw back the covers and swung her long, long legs over the side of the bed. She sat there, hands on the edge of the mattress, leaning forward. "How long have you been awake?"

"Couple of hours. Do you feel better?"

She nodded and pushed a hand through her hair, ruffling it in an attempt to smooth the tangled curls. She yawned and stood up.

He hadn't had a chance to fully appreciate her body last night, or this morning. She was all long, lean muscles under smooth skin, slim-waisted, full-breasted. His eyes were drawn helplessly to those sparkly jewels piercing her navel. When she walked toward the bathroom, the long muscles in her thighs flexed, and the view from behind as she walked away was just as outstanding. Tiny lace panties barely covered firm, rounded cheeks.

He gulped. He had to keep her here, but it could be problematic sharing a hotel room and keeping his hands off her.

She grabbed her bag as she went into the bathroom. He heard water running, the toilet flushing. Then she reappeared, still clad only in bra and panties. So much for shyness.

She sat back down on the bed and looked at him. "So? How long are you going to keep me here?"

"You're not a prisoner."

She laughed. "I'm kidding. Believe me, if I want to leave, I'll leave."

He had no doubt of that. She seemed to have recovered from the traumatic events of the previous day.

"It so happens I'm feeling in need of protection right now," she said lightly. "So I'm in no hurry to leave."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

"I am hungry, though."

Hell. He hadn't even thought about food. Now that she said it, though, he realized he was ravenous, too. He reached for the room service menu and handed it to her.

She opened it up and flipped the pages. "Waffles." She snapped it closed and handed it back to him. "Orange juice and coffee. Lots of coffee."

He grinned and picked up the phone. He added bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausages and toast for himself.

When he hung up, he looked back at her. "Uh...are you going to get dressed?"

She shot him a sultry smile. "Am I bothering you?"

His lips curved up in response. "Hell, yeah."

Her smile widened, but she stood up and searched the room for her clothes. "I put your stuff in the closet," he told her. She looked like a damn supermodel as she strode on those long legs to the closet. She pulled on the same yoga pants and tank top she'd been wearing when they arrived, leaving off the hoodie for now.

Somehow, even though she was dressed, it didn't help take his attention away from her. The tank hugged her breasts and left a strip of smooth flesh bare between its hem and the low-riding drawstring of the pants. Fortunately, room service provided a distraction by delivering their food.

He put away his laptop, and they spread their breakfast feast across the table, pulling up two chairs. Marli poured them each a cup of coffee from the thermos, adding cream and sugar to hers. She topped her waffle with all the whipped butter and then looked at his.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you going to use that butter?"

He looked down at his pancakes. "Yeah."

"Oh." She shrugged her slim shoulders, and, before he even knew he was doing it, he picked up the little container of butter and handed it over. She rewarded him with a radiant smile. He shook his head.

"I thought I had a big appetite," she said, indicating the plates full of food in front of him.

He laughed. "I lost some weight after...a while ago. I'm still trying to get back up to fighting weight."

She looked at him with frank appreciation. "You look good."

He flashed back to the night they'd met at Cactus Jack's. She'd said that then, too. That night, he hadn't been sure how to take that comment. Today, the warm admiration in her eyes left him no doubt.

Warmth spread from his chest downward. He ducked his head and started cutting his pancakes. When he looked up at her, she was smiling.

"Marli..."

"What?" She looked at him with innocent eyes and slowly put a piece of waffle into her mouth with her fork.

"Are you flirting with me?"

And just like that, her gaze shuttered. Shit. "What?" he asked, confused. "What did I say?"

She put down her knife and fork and stared at her plate. Then she looked back up at him, her lips firming, eyes clear. "Yes," she said. "I guess I was flirting with you. I'm sorry."

"Jesus, don't apologize! I'm not complaining. I just wanted to be clear...because, if you're flirting with me, you'd better be prepared for what might happen."