If all the so-called proof was as flimsy as this, they’d be out of here before her hormones had a chance to embarrass her, and she’d be heading back to the desk, which, although she hated it, was a far safer prospect than spending the afternoon with A.J. But as long as he kept his distance, she was fairly certain she could handle her hormone eruption. “What else does the insurance report say?”
He scanned it again. “There’s a note here about frayed wires in an electrical outlet behind the counter.”
Sam slid behind the partially burned divider. She inspected the wiring inside an electrical outlet box dangling from the wall. The coating on the wire wasn’t melted. Since fire didn’t damage unexposed wiring, she had to assume the electrical box was removed after the fire.
As she checked the wire, she felt A.J. squat beside her. Instantly, her nerve endings came to life. She dropped the wire. A.J. was pressing lightly against her. A tingle raced down her side. She wanted to move away, but with all the debris that had been torn from the walls by the firefighters, she couldn’t move without pushing him backward.
She took a deep breath, then curled her nose against the musty odor of burned materials that had been wet, then grown moldy in the Florida heat. She turned her head slightly. Instead of the musty smell, she encountered the smell of a man: woodsy, rugged and way too virile for her peace of mind. Waves of desire washed over her, nearly swamping her with their intensity. She struggled to keep her head above the emotional flood waters.
“So, is the wiring the culprit?” A.J. hadn’t looked at her. Instead he remained squatting beside her with his pen poised above his notebook to make notations. “It doesn’t look bad.”
Thankful that he had unwittingly released a bit of his emotional hold on her, Sam reached for the wire to show him the lack of evidence of fire damage, but instead of grabbing wiring, she grabbed warm, masculine fingers. A.J.’s.
Electricity, so strong she wondered if the outlet were live, shot up her arm. She closed her eyes against the yearning that was building inside her. It swelled and threatened to erupt. She couldn’t let anything happen. She couldn’t. She had to be strong. Fight it. She had to—
Then she felt his thumb drawing small, slow circles on the back of her hand. The electricity returned, shooting to all points of her body, bringing them to life in a way she had never experienced, even with Sloan. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold.
In a last-ditch effort to stop what seemed inevitable, Sam made a feeble attempt to force him to halt. “A.J…. I…we…you… Don’t—”
“Why, Sam? We both want it.” His breath feathered her face, warm and sweet. His mouth… Lord, help her, his mouth. It was so close, so very close. So tempting, so—
She closed her eyes.
Then it happened. A.J. was kissing her, and she was kissing him back with all the pent-up desire she’d buried inside her. She knew she should be fighting, but all common sense had been swamped by the heat coursing through her. And suddenly, she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted more, much more.
Then he was gone, and she found herself cold and empty. She could hear him on the other side of the counter. He was pacing, and she could imagine him raking his fingers through his hair. From the sound of his hurried footsteps, the kiss had shaken him as much as it had her.
Slowly but surely, she gathered her wits about her and, even more slowly, the deluge of conflicting hot flashes and chills brought on by the devastating kiss faded. Her heart rhythm slowed.
When she had herself under control again and felt as if she could face him, she crawled from behind the counter, then straightened. “I guess we can leave. We’ve done all we can do here.”
As soon as the words passed her lips, she realized the suggestiveness they inadvertently transmitted. Her gaze shot to A.J.
He smiled. “Not quite.”
Instantly, her pulse rate accelerated.
A.J. steered the car into his designated slot in the parking lot of the OGPD, where he finally allowed himself to think about what had just happened with Sam at the bookstore. He licked his lips and could still taste her on them. His fist doubled up and pain shot through his arm. Only then did he realize he’d slammed his hand against the steering wheel. With a long sigh, he laid his head back against the headrest.
What the hell were you thinking?
And there lay the crux of the entire situation. He hadn’t been thinking, not with his head anyway. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed her. Problem was, when he got that close to Sam, his brain shut down, and his body took over his thinking process. That offer of a job with the BCI was looking better all the time.
Worst of it was, he still had to face Sam later that night at Luke and Rachel’s. He picked up his cell phone, intent on calling Rachel and telling her he couldn’t make it. Before he’d punched in the last number, he snapped the phone closed and squeezed it in his fist.
He was many things, but he wasn’t a coward. He’d go, and he’d face Sam. Hopefully, he wouldn’t do anything else that could be added to his stupid-things-I-did-today list.
Even in the dark, Sam never had a problem finding Rachel’s house. She’d recently taken up gardening as a hobby, and her flowers were the most profuse and prettiest on the entire street. As Sam pulled into the driveway of the Sutherlands’ house, she noted a vehicle parked in the shadow of the house beside Luke’s pickup. She got out of her car and, as she rounded the bumper of the pickup, she recognized the other vehicle as the same make and model that A.J. drove.
Involuntarily, her heart rate sped up. She paused in the driveway. Had Rachel said he’d be there and had Sam pushed it from her mind so she wouldn’t have to deal with it? Did she want to see him after the kiss at the bookstore? What would she say? Calling herself every kind of a coward, she decided to act as if nothing had happened. After all, what good would come of bringing it up and embarrassing both of them in front of Luke and Rachel?
If she’d known he’d be here, she would have dressed differently, but it was too late to change that now. At the front door, she tugged on the cuffs of her white linen shorts and adjusted the pink camisole top to cover most of her midriff. Satisfied she looked presentable, she pushed the doorbell half-hidden beneath a spray of dried flowers hanging on the door frame. Seconds after she heard the chime echoing inside, the door flew open.
“Aunt Sam!” Maggie cried and threw herself at her.
Over the child’s head, Sam could see Rachel watching them closely from midway down the hall. Though Maggie was doing better, Rachel still hadn’t gotten over her being kidnapped and kept a vigilant eye on her child.
Missing from Rachel and Luke’s daughter’s arms was the patchwork teddy bear that had been her lifeline during the time she’d been the captive of arsonist and kidnapper Charlene Daniels. When she’d given up possession of the bear to her baby brother Jay, it had heralded a big milestone in Maggie’s psychological recovery from her ordeal.
Over a year had passed since Maggie had been returned to her mother and father. With the help of a very good child psychologist, she was rapidly turning into a happy little girl again. Rarely did any of them glimpse a shadow of the silent child who’d been taken from her
