Split Second - Catherine Coulter [110]
Stop looking at his open trouser button. “Hey, you want your T-shirt back? Looks like you’re in need here.”
He absently scratched his chest. “I heard you moving around. You in any pain, Lucy?”
“I took some aspirin; it’ll kick in soon. Look at this bruise on my jaw. Was it there before?”
He walked to her, lightly cupped her jaw in his hand, and lifted her face to the direct light. But he didn’t look at the bruise, he looked at her, and he knew immediately it wasn’t a good idea.
Who cared?
He leaned down and kissed her.
Lucy forgot about her bruises, forgot about the pain in her head, forgot about every sore muscle. They’d been circling each other for months now, despite what she’d heard about him, despite her distrust of him, and, to be honest with herself, she’d thought about this kiss for a long time. It wasn’t the right time to come in for a landing, but here they were in the guest bathroom, of all places.
Who cared?
She was here and he was here, kissing her with lovely enthusiasm, and she had her arms around his back, her hands stroking him, learning how he felt, and she discovered he felt quite wonderful.
Not a single red alert flashed in her mind. When he tried to pull back, she held on tight, kissed his chin, his nose, his neck, and went back to work on his mouth, hers open now, and so was his, and she poured herself into this awesome madness.
“I’ll let you have your T-shirt back.”
Where had the words come from? Surely from her own mouth, but wasn’t her mouth in very close contact with his?
“Yeah, that’s a fine idea,” he said, and he pulled it over her head. There was a good thing about beginning not more than a dozen feet from the bed, Lucy thought. When they fell on it together, Coop cushioning her as best he could, she let out a yip of pain, and laughed. “I guess it’s going to have to be easy going tonight, Agent McKnight. I’m still a mess.”
When she at last fell into a dazed sleep, pressed against his side, her head on his shoulder, her palm flat on his belly, she slept deeply, without nightmares, without pain, and with a sense of rightness she didn’t think she’d ever felt before in her life.
The mattress felt as soft as a cloud.
CHAPTER 54
Friday morning
At exactly seven o’clock in the morning, Lucy danced barefoot into the kitchen, already showered and dressed, her hair still damp and tucked behind her ears to hang loose down her back.
Two people had tried to kill her yesterday, but today she felt buzzed and happy, thinking of the huge smile on her face when she’d looked at herself in the bathroom mirror thirty minutes before. She smelled coffee, nearly shuddered with pleasure at the thought of it, and laughed, marveling at how the most special moments in life came at you out of left field. It took nearly getting herself killed to finally take the big step with Special Agent Cooper McKnight.
She called out, “You’re a coffee god. I will worship at your feet if I can have some.”
He was speaking on his cell. He looked up at her and smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of smile she was expecting, it was a distracted, perfunctory smile, one that didn’t say anything like Wowza, that was great, let’s do it again, right this very second. He was saying, “Sure, Savich. Hold on a second.”
He picked up a pen from the kitchen counter and scribbled on his grocery pad as he listened. When he punched off his cell, he said, “Savich said they traced the VIN of the burned van to the last registered owner, a woman named Claudette Minsk. She lives in Welling, Maryland—actually, just about four miles from your grandmother’s house in Chevy Chase. She was a florist, owned several shops, but her family is selling them now. She’s seventy-nine years old, and unfortunately, she’s developed Alzheimer’s.
“The son said he sold