Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [129]
“Oh, sure,” she growled, snapping back to reality. The reason she was still interested in him was because he was forbidden fruit, the great taboo of her life. His secrets fascinated her; his bad-boy charm seduced the hell out of her and reduced her to the state of being just another foolish woman. Disgusted, she refused to think about how he could drive her crazy with desire, or how with one glance from those stormy eyes he caused her to fantasize about him. And him to fantasize about Marquise?
What was it Eve had said, that Thane had never severed his ties to Mary Theresa? That she suspected that he still loved her—that they were still connected? Why? What was the link that kept them bound?
A headache started to pound with the questions that haunted her. She washed herself, closed her eyes, and let the soothing water grow cool around her. She tried to concentrate on her sister’s whereabouts, attempted to piece together what little she knew, but thoughts of Thane and the magic of his hands and mouth kept getting in the way.
She dozed for a second and woke up to cold water and shadows filling the room. She couldn’t forget she was here with a purpose, that Mary Theresa was the reason she was in Denver. She climbed out of the tub and was reaching for a robe when she heard the door to the suite open. Quickly she threw on the short robe and hurried to the living room.
“Well?” she demanded, as Thane yanked off his gloves. He’d been striding into the room but stopped when he caught sight of her, and she was suddenly embarrassed, aware that she was barely dressed.
He tossed his gloves and jacket onto a chair. “I didn’t learn much.” His gaze strayed to her throat, where the neckline of the robe overlapped. “The convenience store clerk was a bust. Not even sure if Marquise did stop by. Laslo seems on the up and up, and the gardener and housekeeper worship the ground she walks on. I stopped by Syd Gillette’s hotel, but he wasn’t in, and he and I never did get along.” Abruptly he met her eyes again. “How ’bout you?”
“Not…not much better,” she admitted, and had to clear her throat. He brought with him the smell of the outdoors and his hair was ruffled, falling over his forehead in a boyish manner that reminded her of a summer long ago. “But I still want to talk with her agent and psychiatrist. The people at KRKY seem to care about what happened to her, but who knows?” She looked him squarely in the eye and couldn’t forget making love to him. “You know, I’ve been fooled before.”
“Cheap shot, Mag,” he said, then walked to the bar, found a bottle of scotch, cracked it open, and poured himself a drink. “Want one?” he offered.
She was tempted. The muscles in the back of her neck were tight, her head still ached a bit, and being around Thane made her edgy; but she’d never been one to rely on alcohol, had seen too much devastation in her own family to be much of a drinker. “Make it small.”
One eyebrow lifted as he poured. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
He shook his head and grinned. “Testy today, aren’t you?” He crossed the room and handed her a glass. “To you, Maggie,” he said, touching the rim of his glass to hers.
“To Mary Theresa,” she said automatically, and took a long swallow as one of his eyebrows inched upward. Smoky scotch seared a path to her belly.
“Whatever.” Sipping his drink, he turned on the fire and glanced into the mirror over the fireplace. In the glass he stared at her for a long, uncomfortable heartbeat. Maggie took another quick drink. Being this close to Thane was a bad idea. He knew her too well, was too familiar, too damned irresistible. “I think I’d better move into another hotel,” she said, surprised that her voice had grown husky.
“Why?”
“You know why. This”—she shook