"Interrogating a murderer isn't?"

She rested her head on his shoulder. "All right. I'll lend you my credit card, in case you run into a locked door here and there."

He held her tight, and when he caught sight of the police car driving by he dropped to the floor with her in his arms.

Shea laid her head against his chest. "We'll start first thing in the morning," she said.

That meant they had tonight.

* * * The blinds were closed tight, the house was cool and dark and Shea couldn't sleep. Her mind was spinning. Tomorrow. Everything would happen tomorrow. One of Nick's neighbors was a killer, and come tomorrow she was going to find herself face-to-face with him. Or her.

Her plan had been put into motion. She'd called Mark, as promised, knowing that if her brothers bothered to check with the cell phone company they'd only be able to tell that the call came from this area. And it was a very big area. Dean might have access to equipment that could trace her to a specific location if she stayed on her phone long enough, but he was too straight-arrow to use it to track his sister when he knew she'd left his "protection" on her own. It wasn't like she'd been kidnapped again.

Come tomorrow morning, Mark would call Boone with the news that he'd heard from Shea, who was heading to Montana by bus to find and interview Nick Taggert. They'd believe it, too, and while she was interviewing the residents of Teakwood Court, she wouldn't have to keep looking over her shoulder for those three familiar heads of dark hair.

Mostly she thought about Nick. He had become so important to her so quickly that her newfound feelings scared her. She loved him. What else could make her heart beat this way? Why else would she be so incensed over every injustice he'd ever suffered? She wanted to fix his life, and then she wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to make all his dreams come true.

She listened as he came in the back door, locked it behind him and stepped carefully through the kitchen to the foyer and the stairs. At the foot of the steps he hesitated, and she held her breath. What if he didn't come to her? What if he decided he should sleep on the couch or keep watch all night? No matter what happened tomorrow, this might very well be their last night together.

Finally he began to climb the stairs, and when he reached the second floor he turned toward the room where she waited. Her eyes were trained on the doorway when he appeared there.

"What did he say?" she whispered.

"He said yes. They're going to contact everyone tomorrow and say they're throwing an impromptu engagement party."

"Do you think everyone will come?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders and walked into the room. The blinds were closed, but they couldn't risk a lamp or even a candle. She was getting accustomed to watching Nick in nothing but dark shadows.

He barely limped anymore, and as he undressed she felt a rush of relief that the bullet had only creased his flesh. That wound, and the resulting blood loss, had been bad enough. If the bullet had gone through muscle he would have dropped right there in the courthouse and wouldn't have been able to walk for weeks.

Everything would've turned out differently if that had happened, if the deputy's aim had been a little better. Nick would've been taken immediately into custody, he would've been sentenced a few days later and no one would ever know that he was innocent.

Naked, as she was, he climbed into bed with her, slipping beneath the comforter and taking her in his arms. Their bodies came together easily, beautifully, and neither of them said a word as they settled into and against one another. Nick knew, as well as she did, that tomorrow everything would change.

So they held one another tightly, bodies close, legs entangled, hearts pressed together and beating fast and hard. Shea buried her nose in his neck and took a deep breath. Heavens, she loved the way he smelled. The scent of his skin was comforting and arousing, and she was terrified that after tonight she'd never have this luxury again.

They hadn't used any kind of protection this afternoon. Things had spun out of control so quickly that by the time she'd thought about the single remaining condom in her duffel bag it had been too late. She had no regrets. She loved Nick and she wanted all of him.

There was a touch of desperation between them, but neither of them mentioned that this might be their last night together. That come tomorrow, if their plan was unsuccessful, Nick might have to go on the run again. The thought made Shea panic, until she made a momentous and calming decision. She was not giving him up. This was not their last night together.

That decision made, she relaxed and melted in his arms. Nick kissed her, softly and sweetly. He touched her and trailed his mouth down her body. Licking and kissing and nibbling, he made his way to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and took a nipple deep into his mouth. Shea pushed the comforter down. In spite of the air-conditioning and the cool night air, she was hot, her skin and Nick's generating their own heat. She kicked the comforter to the foot of the bed, and a moment later Nick kicked it onto the floor.

They spread across the big bed, arms and legs together and then apart, mouths tasting and exploring.

This afternoon they'd come together impatiently, but tonight was different. They had all night, and some things should not be rushed.

"Nick?" she whispered.

He hummed a disinterested response.

"Up there on the mountain, when you fired that shot at me..." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Would you really have shot me if I'd kept running?"

"No," he said quickly, without hesitating. "I could never hurt you."

"I knew it," she whispered with a smile as he turned his attention to her neck.

Shea tried not to think about tomorrow, tried not to think about what would happen when this was over, but tomorrow was on her mind. The only way to remedy that problem was to make the confession that would change everything.

She rolled over, pushing Nick onto his back and holding her face close to his. She kissed him, softly, then again with the fierce hunger she felt.

Holding his face in her hands, she barely touched her nose to his. "I love you," she whispered.

"Don't." The single word was harsh, but the hand that settled in her hair was tender. Gentle and loving.

And she didn't let that word deter her. "If we find the murderer tomorrow and you're cleared, then everything will be fine. If we don't and you have to run again, I want to run with you."

"No," he whispered.

"I would rather live my life on the run with you than live it anywhere else without you." Heaven help her, it was the truth. She would give up everything to be with this man forever. Living without him would be sheer misery.

Nick didn't bother to argue with her again. He rolled her onto her back, spread her thighs and continued his most thorough exploration.

Her confession made, Shea's mind cleared, and for now-for now there was only this. Nick's wide bed and her love for him and the way they touched.

And touched. Nick kissed her in places she'd never been kissed before. He trailed his fingers over every inch of her body. She touched him, as well, following his lead and being bold. Fearless. Smiling softly when he shivered or took a sudden deep breath. Glad to know that she could arouse him with something so simple as a well-placed kiss or a gentle caress.

Her body was alive, her mind was foggy, her heart was full. And they all belonged to Nick.

He trailed kisses from the valley of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s down her torso, his hands beneath her hips, his mouth moving unerringly downward. He paused at her belly b.u.t.ton, circling his tongue around it, then below it.

When he placed his mouth on her intimately, she gasped in shock at the sensation. His fingers caressed her inner thighs as he aroused her with his tongue. He found the nub at her entrance and teased her, hard and then gentle, fast and then slow. He tormented her, moving away when she was close to completion, returning a moment later to begin again.

When his fingers joined his tongue she climaxed quickly, coming off the mattress and crying out hoa.r.s.ely as he brought her to an intense climax.

She was still breathless when he raised his head and kissed her inner thigh, the skin beneath her belly b.u.t.ton. Then he wrapped his arms around her and slid slowly upward.

Shea trembled; he felt her response. Absorbed it. And did not stop. Her words, I love you, echoed in his ears. No matter how he tried to forget what she'd said, no matter how he tried to convince himself that what she felt wasn't real, still he heard the words.

"Nick," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair, arching her back when he took a nipple into his mouth and gently suckled before resting his head on her shoulder.

She wasn't content to lie there for long, breathless and satisfied. Her hands skimmed down his sides, and she slithered beneath him, bringing her mouth to his neck, sucking and kissing and licking. Moaning and writhing beneath him.

She reached for him, and he grabbed her wrist. If she touched him he was lost. If she stroked those soft hands on his length once, he would lose control.

His erection, hard and long past ready, touched her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close, into her slick wetness, and he closed his eyes as he plunged deep. She stretched and grasped him, took him inside her body and met him, stroke for stroke. He felt and savored her fiery response, which came as quickly and undeniably as his own. She held on, took quick, shallow breaths and arched into him.

She came again, moaning deeply. Her inner muscles caressed him, milked him as he gave over to his own release. And on the dying waves of their shared climax she said it again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "I love you, Nick. No matter what happens, I love you."

Their bodies still joined, he raised up to look at her, what he could see in the dark. Not enough. Not nearly enough. * * *

The sun rose, slowly but surely. It was a day Nick wasn't certain he wanted to see.

But it was here.

Shea slept with her head on his shoulder and her arm across his midsection. Even in sleep, she held on. And she looked so content by morning's light. She looked so happy.

She thought she loved him, and deep in his heart he wished it was true. He wished he could start over again, one more time, with Shea in his bed and his heart.

Maybe he loved her, too. Maybe he just wanted to so badly that it felt real. Last night he'd had to bite his tongue to keep from saying, "I love you, too." The truth was, he'd never told a woman he loved her. Not Lauren, not any of the women who'd come before her.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For believing in me when no one else did. For loving me." And then he knew it was true. He could deny it out loud, but not here. Not now. "For letting me love you back."

One thing was true: he loved Shea enough not to ask her to live with him if he had to run again. He wouldn't take her family and her career and her friends from her and ask her to live day to day, always wondering who was close to capturing him again.

He wouldn't make her a fugitive.

And if they did find the real murderer? It was what he wanted most of all, but he had his doubts. It had been almost a year since Winkler had been murdered. Any evidence was long gone, and what were the odds that Shea could wrest a confession from the real killer? Not good. And even if she could ... she would have her own kind of notoriety once this was over, and so would he. How could they ever have a normal life?

He watched her until she came awake, cuddling against him, raking her fingers down his side. Her eyes opened a few minutes later and immediately landed on his face.

Her smile grabbed his heart. Her eyes were so warm and loving he could too easily take her up on her offer. He could love her. He could sweep her up and run from this place and not look back.

But he knew what he had to do. "Good morning," he said coolly. There was no smile to soften the emotionless words, no kiss. He couldn't afford either.

Shea's smile faded as she sat up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine and dandy." He turned his back on her and rolled from the bed. "A little tired. d.a.m.n, woman, you wore me out last night."

"Last night was..." she began.

"Fun," he snapped, turning to glance down at Shea as he interrupted. "That's all it was, sugar. One last night of diversion before it hits the fan."

She went pale. "Diversion." Shea was not the kind of woman to beg, plead or cry, thank G.o.d. She took the news stoically.

His back was to her as he dressed. "After ten months in jail I was pretty hard up, if you know what I mean. When I kidnapped you I really didn't intend for things to turn out this way, but I can't say I'm sorry they did."

"Really?" she said softly, and with just a hint of anger.

"You're hot stuff, sugar. Those brothers of yours are gonna have a tough time keeping you virtuous now that you know what good s.e.x is like."

The bed creaked, and he wondered if she'd come up behind him and hit him. He almost wished she would.

"Well," she said, her voice in complete control. She recovered fast, his Shea. "It was a way to pa.s.s the time, since we couldn't very well risk turning on the television or a single light. There aren't many diversions to enjoy in the dark."

"Only the one," he said softly.

"I hope you didn't take any of my ... my confessions seriously."

He glanced over his shoulder. Shea was still pale, but she was strong. She'd do fine without him, no matter what happened.

"Of course not," he said, forcing a small smile that hurt his face and his heart. "Part of the game, that's all."

"Part of the game," she said, turning her back on him and heading for the bathroom and a long, hot shower.

Chapter 17.

O kay, maybe she was an idiot, but she could be a professional idiot. The story was all that counted. Finding the truth was all that mattered.

Shea told herself this on Sat.u.r.day morning as she knocked on Carter Able's door. There had been no suit in her duffel bag, but she had thought to pack a pair of dressy black trousers, a lightweight, red knit blouse and a comfortable pair of black sandals that suited the occasion. She would start here at the Ables' house and work her way around the circle, ending with Polly Winkler's. The Able kids were playing down the street, and Carter and his wife, Amanda, were at home alone. Nick waited out back, watching and listening for his chance to slip through the back door.

She'd tried to convince Nick that she didn't need him along, that she was perfectly safe without him, but he didn't agree. Stubborn, obstinate, pigheaded, insensitive man.

The door swung open and she smiled widely. "Hi," she said in her peppiest voice. "I'm Shea-"

"I know who you are," Carter said, obviously stunned to see her. "Nick kidnapped you. It was all over the news." He looked over her shoulder. "Where's your car?"

Shea was unfl.u.s.tered. "I had my cameraman drop me off. This is just a preliminary investigation for a special show I'm going to put together. I didn't want the camera to scare people off."

Carter nodded and opened the door wide. "Come on in."

"I'd really like to talk to you and Mrs. Able together, if that's okay."

"Sure."

Carter went to fetch his wife, and Shea took a moment to gather her thoughts and study the living room. It was well kept, considering the Ables had three children. No toys scattered about, no crumbs, no snack cake wrappers. Her own living room wasn't this clean. If there had ever been any evidence in this house, it was long gone.

Carter returned with Amanda, a pretty, dark-haired woman dressed in shorts and a Soccer Mom T-shirt. She was as openly interested as her husband in Shea's investigation. They sat together on the sofa, and Shea perched on the end of a matching chair with her notebook in her lap.

They spoke eagerly about the barbecue the night of Winkler's death, but added nothing Nick hadn't already told her. They talked about Gary and how he'd flirted with Lauren, about Nick and his temper, about the fabulous ca.s.serole Mrs. Ca.s.son had brought. Gary held his wife's hand while he told Shea what he'd seen the next morning, after Gary's body was found. The entire time they both remained wide-eyed and anxious. If these people had anything to hide, they were fabulous actors.

As Shea listened to the Ables, she also listened for Nick. The faint sound of a slipping lock, a footstep in the kitchen. She heard nothing, and eventually began to wonder if he was in the house at all.

It didn't matter if he was here or not. It didn't matter if he did run to Montana or Canada or Mexico.

She was going to see this through to the end, no matter how he felt. No matter what a jerk he was.

She smiled as Carter and Amanda told her about what had happened after the police arrived on the scene, but she was already set to move on. As far as she could tell they were being completely honest.

Unlike some people she knew.

She said her goodbyes, and when Amanda asked if they were going to be on television, Shea winked and a.s.sured them they would.