Protector, Lover...Husband?: In the Dark / Sure Bet / Deadly Exposure. Heather Graham
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“What happened?” Nigel Thompson demanded.
“Well, he was drinking too hard and too fast, that’s for sure,” Hank Adamson commented.
“We were at a table together,” Jay told Nigel. He pointed around. “Seth, John, Hank, David and myself. David’s phone rang, and he decided to take it outside. I needed to pick up a few things, so I headed down the street, and then…” He looked at the other two who had shared the table.
“I went to the men’s room,” John Seymore said, and looked at Hank Adamson.
“I walked up to the bar.”
“When did Granger leave the bar?” Nigel asked.
His answer was a mass shrugging of shoulders.
“Hell,” Nigel muttered. “All right, everyone back inside.”
David was already on his feet. He reached a hand down to Alex, his eyes dark and enigmatic. She hesitated, then accepted his help.
She realized, as she stood, that John Seymore was watching. He gave her a little smile, then turned away. It seemed that day suddenly turned to night. She shivered, then regretted it. David slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You all right?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said coldly.
“Alex, you don’t have to snap,” he said softly.
She removed his arm from around her shoulders and followed the others. She meant to find wherever John was sitting and take a place beside him.
Too late. Zach was on John’s left, Hank Adamson on his right. There was one bench left, and there was little for her to do other than join David when he sat there.
She suddenly felt very cold, and, gritting her teeth, she accepted the light windbreaker he offered. She instantly regretted the decision. It felt almost as if she had cloaked herself in his aura. It wasn’t unpleasant. It was too comfortable.
The sheriff’s phone rang. “Thompson,” he said briefly as he answered it. A second later, he flipped his phone closed. “Well, it’s bad news but not unexpected. He was pronounced dead at the hospital.”
“Mind if we go over Mr. Granger’s movements one more time?” Nigel asked.
“He came, he drank, he fell in the water,” a businessman who’d been on the dive said impatiently.
“Thanks for the compassion, sir,” Nigel said.
“Sorry, Sheriff,” the man said. “But the guy was rich and being a rude pain in the you-know-what all day.”
“Well, thank goodness not everyone who’s rude ends up drowning,” the sheriff said pointedly. “I’d have myself one hell of a job,” Nigel commented.
“Sorry,” the man said again. “It’s just that…we’re all tired. I only met the man today on the dive, and he wasn’t the kind of person to make you care about him. And I’m on vacation.”
“Well, then, I’ll get through this just as fast as I can. First things first—those of you from Moon Bay. Anyone checking out tomorrow?”
No one was, apparently. Or, if so, they weren’t about to volunteer the information.
“Good. Okay, I’m going outside. One by one, come out, give me your names, room numbers and cell-phone numbers, and I may have a quick question or two. Then you can reboard and get going.”
Squeaky wheels were the ones oiled first, Alex determined. Nigel asked her whining diver to come out first.
“This is kind of silly,” a woman who had been on the dive complained. “A pushy rich man got snockered and fell in the water. That’s obvious.”
“Nothing is obvious,” David said, his eyes focused on the woman. Alex felt the coiling heat and tension in his body before he continued. “Nigel Thompson is top rate. He’s not leaving anything to chance.”
The woman flushed and fell silent.
Alex felt as if she were trapped, so aware of David in the physical sense that she was about to scream. In this room full of people, in the midst of this tense situation, she found herself focusing on the most absurd things. Like her ex-husband’s toes. His muscled calves. Legs that were long and powerful. When he inhaled, his flesh brushed hers.
She forced herself to look across the room at John Seymore, instead.
In the room, conversations began. David turned to Alex suddenly. “You all right?” he asked softly.
“Of course I’m all right,” she said. He was studying her gravely. Then a slight smile curved his lips. “Why?” she asked cautiously.
His head moved closer. His lips were nearly against her ear. When he spoke, it seemed that his voice and the moisture of his breath touched her almost like a caress. “You’ve been undressing me with your eyes,” he told her.
“You are undressed,” she informed him. “And what I’m thinking about is the fact that a man drowned.”
“Did he?”
“Of course! Damn you, David, we were both there.”
“We were both there to pull the body out of the water, but we weren’t there when he died.”
“He drowned,” she insisted.
“Isn’t this getting to you just a little bit?” His voice lowered even further. “You’re in danger.”
“And you’re going to protect me?” she demanded.
“You bet.”
“Are you going to keep sleeping on my porch?”
“No, you’re going to let me into the cottage.”
“Dream on. I don’t know what this absurd obsession with me is, but do you really think you’re going to scare me into letting you back in my bed?”
“Only if you insist, and if it will make you feel better.”
In that moment she hated him with a sudden intensity, because she had been so secure, so ready to explore a relationship with another man, and now…
David had played on her mental processes. She knew he could make her feel secure…that his flesh against her own could feel irresistibly erotic, compelling…She wanted to curl against him, close her eyes, rest, imagine.
“You’ve got some explaining to do, too,” he informed her. Suddenly his eyes reminded her of a predatory cat.
She stiffened. “I have to explain something to you?”
“About Danny Fuller.”
“Danny