Quarter to Midnight (A New Orleans Novel Book 1)

XAVIER TRIED TO relax. It wasn’t that Burke’s place wasn’t comfortable, because it was. They’d traveled to Des Allemands, then boarded a flat-bottomed boat that two of Burke’s part-time employees had waiting for them.

Then they’d all traveled by water to the camp, arriving just before it got too dark to see.

Manny had been excited to see two gators slicing through the water, but Carlos hadn’t been as keen. Xavier was simply too tired to care, although the swamp was beautiful with its cypress trees and hanging Spanish moss.

The camp itself was located on the bayou bank, elevated up on pilings, and seemed to kind of melt into the vegetation. The two men who’d come with them stayed to guard the place. Which made Xavier both reassured and more scared.

The camp was surprisingly nice, with three bedrooms, hardwood floors throughout, and all new appliances in the kitchen. The living room had a huge flat-screen TV and an Xbox. Which Carlos and Manny had commandeered, of course. They sat on big throw pillows on the floor, trying to best each other in Call of Duty.

Burke had claimed an ancient recliner that was literally held together with duct tape. It was out of place in the room where everything else looked brand-new. The PI business must be lucrative. Burke didn’t seem like he was hurting for cash.

Willa Mae sat in a rocker, knitting and occasionally humming to herself.

Xavier made a mental note to buy her some pretty yarn when this was over.

Her very presence had calmed him today. He’d sometimes forgotten over the years that she was a lawyer. She’d always been Miss Willa Mae, his mom’s best friend, and she’d never talked about her job.

His mother sat on the sofa next to him, unusually pensive. Xavier was most grateful for her. Grateful that she’d stood with him, grateful that she was alive period. This day could have ended so differently. Hell, if she and Dad hadn’t adopted him, his whole life could’ve ended differently.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She turned to him with a soft smile. “I was proud of you today, son. I’m proud of you every day, but today . . . Well, you’ve grown into an amazing man. I wish your father were here to see how well you’ve turned out.”

Xavier swallowed hard. “Mom. Stop it.”

She patted his hand. “I’m allowed to be proud. I’m allowed to be sentimental. Suck it up.”

He laughed, the sound surprising him. But the lightness evaporated quickly, leaving him cold. And scared. He was so damn scared. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.”

She swatted him. “You stop it. As if I’d be anywhere else.”

“What did you tell work?”

“I told them that I had a family emergency and was taking some of the leave I have saved. That was this morning, though. If the fact that Houston PD was searching our house made the news, they’ll know why I left.”

That was something that they hadn’t really discussed. Houston PD had been in their house. And at some point, they’ll want to talk to me. “Will you be in trouble?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I was taking care of my son. And if there is trouble, I can find another job elsewhere. Nurses are in demand these days.”

He shuddered, thinking of his mother losing her job. “What if this takes a long time? What if we’re stuck here for weeks?”

“And what if we’re not?” she said softly, then glanced at Burke. “You planning on throwing us out anytime soon, Burke?”

Burke grinned. “No, ma’am. You’re welcome to use this place as long as you like. I mean that.”

“What will Houston PD do?” Xavier asked, still scared shitless. There were so many ways this could go wrong. More wrong.

“They’ll come and talk to you,” Willa Mae said without looking up from her knitting, her needles moving so fast that Xavier had a hard time following the movement. “You’ll tell them exactly what you told Captain Holmes.

You’ll tell them that you had no idea why that guy was following you—and at the time, you didn’t. If they want to make a case against you, they’ll have to dig.” She did look up now, her eyes piercing. “They won’t find anything, will they?”

“No, ma’am. I’ve never even smoked a cigarette. Never even bought a beer until I was twenty-one.”

“I can attest to that,” Carlos said. “He always said no, no matter how many times I begged.”

“You are a bad influence,” Willa Mae told Carlos, but she was smiling.

“You’re also a good friend. You’re going to tell HPD that you saw the man’s hands and he had a gun. And that there could have been two men, but you were so scared, you ran without finding out.”

“That’s true,” Carlos said, uncharacteristically solemn. “I was scared shitless, and that’s a fact.”

“I don’t plan on allowing HPD to talk to you, Xavier,” Burke said quietly,

“if it makes you feel better. I have no idea where you are.”

It did make him feel better, actually. Except . . . “André knows that’s not true. What if he tells them where to find me?”

“He won’t,” Burke said, seeming confident. “Not without warning me first. And if he does, it’s a big bayou and I know lots of hidey-holes, so don’t you waste a minute worrying.”

“But what if HPD tries to hang something on Xavier even before they question him?” Manny asked. “That’s had me worried all day.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Willa Mae declared. “If they try, we’ll fight them. You have the advantage of someone who knows how they work. I know just about all the prosecutors in Harris County, so I know

what approaches they might take. I’m not worried right now. If I get worried, I will be honest with you. Trust me on that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Carlos set the game controller on the carpet. “But I’m still confused about the guy who called himself Paul Lott. He went to all the trouble of making a new ID. That had to have taken him a little while. Like maybe he planned ahead or something. But Lott was only killed last night.”

“Probably shortly before Xavier called him,” Burke agreed. He sat reclined with his feet up, his eyes closed, and his hands folded over his stomach, looking for all the world like a dad taking a snooze. “That’s a very good point, Carlos. I’m wondering if whoever killed Lott knew about you earlier, Xavier. If they’d already planned to impersonate Lott before you called.”

“Like that makes me feel better,” Xavier muttered.

Burke shrugged, eyes still closed. “Not trying to make you feel better.

Trying to keep you alive. Had you received any other communication from Lott’s office?”

“No. Just the one call to my burner cell. The one I used with Rocky. Lott told me that he was sending some paperwork to the UPS box address, except he didn’t know it was a UPS box. I just let him think it was my real mailing address.”

“If I was an evil bad guy,” Burke mused, “and I wanted to find you because you were a witness to a murder I’d done back in Katrina, and I’d already made an ID with Lott’s name on it, planning to impersonate him, I’d check his files for any correspondence with you. And when I found that address where Lott sent your inheritance check, I’d have checked that out, too. It would have taken no time at all to find that it was a UPS box.” He was quiet for a moment, continuing to look like he was snoozing. “I’d check out that UPS mailbox location. And if I were truly smart, I’d send you a piece of mail with some kind of tracking device.” His eyes popped open. “Have you checked that box recently?”

Xavier shook his head. “Not since right after Rocky died and Paul Lott called me on my burner phone to tell me that he was sending me the papers.”

“Where is your burner phone?” Burke asked.

“At my house. I kept it in a lockbox in my closet.”

“Maybe that man this morning was looking for that burner phone,” Willa Mae said, her needles back in motion. “Maybe he was hoping you’d pack it.”

Burke nodded. “You could be right, Miss Willa Mae.”

She smirked. “I usually am.”

Burke closed his eyes again. “I’ll have Molly drive to Baton Rouge and check the box. If Lott’s killer was hoping to lure you there, maybe we can get some information about him.”

“What if Lott was involved?” Cicely asked.

Xavier frowned. “Rocky trusted him.”

Cicely shrugged. “I trusted Rocky. But I didn’t know this Lott character. I mean, he’s dead now, so he’s probably no longer a threat even if he was involved, but . . . what if?”

Burke made a humming noise. “It’s a valid question. I’ll have Molly add it to the list. She’s good at lists.”

Cicely smiled. “She was all about that whiteboard this afternoon.”

“That’s her thing,” Burke said. “She’s a thinker, and she organizes information in ways that make sense. It’s one of the things that made her a great cop and one of the reasons I wanted her to come work for me.”

Abruptly he stowed the recliner’s footrest and stood. “I didn’t get much sleep last night myself, so I’m going to hit the hay. I think you all know where everything is. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen or anywhere else. But I don’t recommend taking a walk outside. Gators, y’know. They’re on the move in the night.”

Carlos made a face. “I didn’t need to be reminded of that, thank you very much.”

Burke’s grin was slightly wicked. “Wouldn’t want you becoming gator food, now would we? I’ve got all the perimeter alarms set. If anyone comes close, I’ll know, so y’all can sleep well.” He sobered. “I’ve also got my two part-timers standing watch outside. I trust them with my life and yours. They shouldn’t bother you, and they’ll stay outside. So sleep well.”

“ ’Night, Burke,” Xavier called as the man headed toward his room at the back of the house. “Thank you.”

Burke just waved.

Xavier sighed. “I know I need to sleep, but my brain is too wired.”

“I’m going to try,” Manny said. “At least Burke didn’t ask me to give up any of the weapons I brought with me. If anyone comes after us, I’ll be ready.”

Xavier didn’t want to think about using his father’s gun again. Even if Molly hadn’t taken it so she could get rid of it, the memory of using it the night before had left him queasy. “Maybe we should find a baseball bat or a golf club for Carlos. He was badass with those things. Wielded them like freaking swords.”

Carlos laughed. “All that playing Luke Skywalker with a light saber paid off. Sometimes being a geek works out. Come on, X.” He stood up and held out his hand, tugging Xavier to his feet. “Let’s try to sleep. Manny and Burke have us covered.”

“Don’t count me out,” Willa Mae said. She leaned down to rifle through her yarn bag, taking out her handgun. “So your mama’s safe, too.”

“Thank you, Miss Willa Mae.” Xavier leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“ ’Night, Mama.”

“Sleep tight, son. Things will be better tomorrow.”

Central Business District, New Orleans, Louisiana

TUESDAY, JULY 26, 9:15 P.M.

“We’re here,” Molly said, parking the rental car in the hotel’s underground garage. Turning in her seat, she nudged Gabe, who’d fallen asleep a half hour into their drive. She hated to wake him. He looked so peaceful. And handsome.

Lord help her, the man was hot. She caressed the hard line of his jaw, his stubble scraping her skin in the most pleasant of ways, before brushing a loose red curl from his forehead.

And she needed to stop admiring her client and get him up to his room where he’d be safe. This garage had 24-7 surveillance by the hotel’s security,

and she’d driven a long time to ensure that no one had followed them, but it still wasn’t safe for Gabe.

She shook his shoulder harder. “Gabe? Wake up.”

He grumbled something she didn’t catch. “Gabriel Hebert, wake up this instant,” she commanded sharply.

His eyes opened slowly. “Where are we?”

“Hotel in the Central Business District.”

Gabe straightened in his seat, glancing at the car’s clock in confusion.

“That’s, like, ten minutes from your office. We’ve been driving for an hour.”

“Needed to make sure we weren’t followed. Let’s get upstairs and then you can sleep for real.”

She needed to, for sure. She hadn’t been this tired in a very long time.

She forced her feet out of the car and shouldered her duffel bag. Gabe followed, still blinking. She linked her arm through his and guided them toward the elevator to the lobby. “We’re all checked in. We can head straight up to our rooms.”

“Rooms?” he asked, disgruntled. “Why two?”

She grinned up at him, all while she kept watch. She’d spotted one security guard at the entrance and another deep in the shadows of the garage.

No one else seemed to be down here, which was just the way she liked it.

“Why, Mr. Hebert. Are you saying you want to share a room with me?”

His lips quirked. “I’d like to share more than a room. But I’m a gentleman, so I won’t push.”

“I’m a lady, but I’ll push if I want to.”

He chuckled at that, then stiffened when a shadow moved in front of them. Molly went on full alert, her free hand moving to the gun holstered at her hip. Gabe had come to a halt, his body moving into a stance she recognized from her own martial arts training. Good to know. Even sleepy, he had good instincts.

But their vigilance wasn’t necessary. It was only a third security guard.

“Sorry,” the man said, eyeing Gabe’s attack-ready posture. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Quite all right,” Molly said smoothly, even though her pulse was now racing. “Maybe don’t sneak around in the shadows, though.”

“Yes, ma’am. Have a good evening, ma’am,” he said with enough sarcasm to make Molly wish that Gabe had attacked him.

“Asshole,” Gabe muttered when they were in the elevator. “Yes, ma’am,”

he mimicked.

“I’m used to it,” she said, then rose on her toes to give his cheek a peck.

“Still, it’s nice to see you ready to defend me. Nice moves.”

He grumbled under his breath, but she could tell that he was pleased.

“Better than last night. I nearly had a panic attack when that guy tried to hurt Shoe.”

She hated the self-deprecation in his voice. “You were shocked, Gabe. I never thought less of you. But I’m glad that your instincts were good just now. That might save your life someday.”

His jaw tightened. “I thought less of me.”

The elevator doors opened, saving her from a response. Which was good because she didn’t know what to say to make him feel better.

“Come on,” she said, tugging him away from the front desk and toward the main bank of elevators. “This way.”

“We don’t need a key?”

“Not tonight. Just . . . wait till we’re behind closed doors. I’ll explain.”

He fell silent as they entered another elevator, watching as she pushed the button for the sixteenth floor. When the doors opened, she led him toward the room number that Burke had texted her.

She rapped twice on the door, paused, then rapped twice more, and the door opened.

Molly breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the six-foot, blond Norwegian woman whose skin was three shades paler than even Gabe’s.

“You look like crap, girl,” Val said in her typical brusque way, stepping back to let them inside, then shutting the door. “And . . . OMG, is that a wrinkle I see on your shirt?”

Molly chuckled. “Shut up. Gabe, this is Val Sorensen, one of Burke’s PI-slash-bodyguards, and one of my very best friends. Val, Gabe Hebert.”

Val stuck out her hand. “I have heard so much about you. Most of it good.”

Gabe blinked. “Um, thank you? But if you’re here, who’s guarding my cousin?”

“Gabe!” Patty flew from the adjoining room, throwing her arms around Gabe’s neck. “You’re okay. I just heard about today. About the guy on the highway pointing his gun at you.”

Gabe looked at Molly, confused again. “What’s happening right now?

Why is Patty here?”

“Val’s going to stand guard tonight so I can sleep. Patty can’t be left alone, so she’s here.”

A slow grin brightened his face. “Adjoining rooms?” he mouthed.

She grinned back. “Yep,” she mouthed back.

Val just snorted. Patty missed the entire exchange because her face was buried against Gabe’s neck.

Gabe pried Patty’s arms from his neck so that he could look her in the eye. “I’m fine. The gun was pointed at Molly, not at me. But we’re fine.”

Patty stepped back. “I kept imagining the worst when it took you so long to get here.”

“I’m sorry,” Molly said quietly. “I was making sure we weren’t followed.”

Patty nodded, flicking a glance at Val. “That’s what Val said. I still worried.”

“Who’s minding the Choux?” Gabe asked.

“Donna Lee has everything under control.” Patty braved a smile. “We might come back and find that we’re not needed at all.”

“Not true, and you know it,” Val said. “Sit down and rest, guys. There’s a minibar if you need a drink.”

“Not me,” Molly said. “I just need to sleep. I can’t run on two hours’

sleep like a college kid anymore.” She dropped her duffel bag on one of the two queen-sized beds in the room, toeing off her boots and arranging them next to the bed as she always did.

At least she wasn’t sleeping in her boots like she had in the Corps. That had sucked royally.

“Anything new?” Val murmured, sitting on the side of her bed while Gabe answered Patty’s flurry of questions on the other side of the room.

“When did Burke brief you?”

“He called me fifteen minutes ago.”

“Me too.” To tell her that HPD might show up tomorrow, expecting to interview Xavier, but that he didn’t plan to allow it. There was no reason to give HPD the opportunity to haul Xavier in for questioning where he might be in danger. Burke also told them that the Paul Lott impersonator might have been looking for Xavier’s burner phone. “So we’re both up to speed.”

“Plans for tomorrow?” Val asked.

Gabe and Patty sat on the edge of the other bed. “Yes,” Gabe said. “I’d like to know, too.”

Molly was afraid to sit. Exhaustion was already shutting her body down.

If she sat, she’d be out in a second. “I want one of us to be present when Cornell Eckert is arraigned tomorrow.”

“I will,” Val said. “You can stay here with them. If Eckert pulled a gun on you yesterday, he’ll recognize you tomorrow in court. I don’t want whoever hired him to be able to follow you back here.”

Molly weaved on her feet. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Val arched a brow. “Anything else before you fall over?”

“Yeah. I want to take Xavier back to his old neighborhood tomorrow. We need to know where the victim lived. I know he was young when it all happened, but he might remember.”

Val winced sympathetically. “That’s going to be hard on him. Pictures won’t suffice?”

“A lot of those areas have changed since Katrina,” Molly said. “Xavier might not recognize it from photos.”

Val frowned. “He might not recognize it in person, either.”

“I know,” Molly said. She’d thought of that already. “But the victim is the center of everything. Once we find her, the connections to all the other players will be clearer.”

Val nodded, but looked skeptical. “It’s worth a try, I guess. You’ll have support?”

“I think just me. It’ll be better if Xavier’s not with an entourage. He’ll attract attention.”

Val frowned. “Burke’s not going to let you go alone.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow, after I’ve slept.” Molly rubbed her forehead. A headache had taken root. “I’m not sure when Eckert is scheduled to be arraigned, but it’s normally first thing.”

“I know,” Val said gently, then lifted her voice to call to Patty. “Let’s let these two sleep.”

Patty kissed Gabe’s cheek. “I’m next door if you need me.” She waved at Molly on her way out. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

Molly smiled. “My job and my pleasure.” She waited until the door to the adjoining room closed behind them, then sank to the bed. “I’m running on fumes. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the bathroom first.”

Gabe made an after-you gesture. “Molly? Where do you want me to sleep?”

She paused in midstride. And really thought about her answer. She could say that sharing a bed would help her protect him better, but they both knew that was a big ole lie. So she went with the truth. “With me? I can’t promise anything’s gonna happen, but it would be nice to hold you and—”

He was at her side in a moment, his finger pressed to her lips. “Holding you is exactly what I want, too.” Moving his finger from her mouth, he cupped her cheek in his palm. “And when you wake up, maybe to kiss you again. That’s all.”

She nuzzled into his palm. “That sounds perfect.”

Fifteen minutes later, under the covers and nearly asleep already, she felt his arm curling around her waist, his body spooning her. He smelled of minty toothpaste, the hotel’s vanilla-scented soap, but mostly of himself, all spicy and clean. He kissed her temple, slipping his hand under her T-shirt to rest on her stomach while murmuring in her ear. “Sleep. Val is on guard duty. Let go and sleep.”

The rumble of his voice and the touch of his hand sent a shiver across her skin that was a wake-up call. Plus the reminder that Val was—at the moment

—responsible for standing watch had her remembering that kiss in the office.

That she wasn’t technically responsible for Gabe’s safety—at the moment—

was a really flimsy technicality for excusing what she was about to do, but she couldn’t make herself care. Gabe made her want . . . all kinds of things.

Suddenly sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Don’t want to now,” she murmured back. “Got a sexy man in my bed.”

She rolled to her back, staring up into his face. His hand had splayed wide over her stomach, his thumb tantalizingly close to the curve of her breast.

Just a little higher, Gabe. Please? “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“I’m far from perfect. You’re pretty damn close, though.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up and kiss me, Gabe.”

And he did. Sweetly at first. Chastely. More like the first kiss they’d shared. But then he made a needy sound deep in his throat.

Or was that me?

It didn’t matter, because he changed the kiss, covering her body with his own, going from sweet to full-on sex in a heartbeat. She reached for him, one hand threading through his curls on his head, the other the curls on his chest.

So soft, both places. Just as she’d hoped they’d be.

His skin against hers was warm, his lips firm and insistent, and she cursed that she needed air. She pulled away just far enough to draw in a breath.

“You’re good at this.”

His lips curved against hers. “You’re good for my ego. I was afraid I’d be out of practice.”

His thumb brushed a sizzling path a fraction of an inch closer to her breast, making her want to grab his hand and move it herself. But this was seduction, and she hadn’t been seduced in a very long time. “Practice never hurts.”

She bent one knee, bracketing his hip, lifting her own hips to feel how much he wanted her. She shivered, because, if the rigid length in his boxer briefs was any indication, he wanted her very much. Despite her exhaustion, her body flared to life, and she needed more. She slid her hand beneath the

elastic waist of his underwear, wanting to learn his body more intimately, exhaling on a hiss when she wrapped her fingers around him. He was big and hard and ready. Very ready.

With a quiet groan, he thrust into her hand. “The things I want to do to you.” He thrust again. “With you.”

“Tell me,” she whispered.

“I want to touch you,” he whispered back, his voice gone deeper, his accent thicker. Richer. His fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, making her shiver in anticipation. “Can I touch you, Molly?”

There was only one answer for her, here in this moment that was just for them. “Yes. Please.”

His hand finally cupped her breast, his thumb lightly flicking her nipple.

“I want to touch you all over. I want to learn what you like. I want to taste you. I want to be inside you, and I want to hear you moan for me.”

She couldn’t have silenced her moan if she’d tried. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Central Business District, New Orleans, Louisiana

TUESDAY, JULY 26, 9:55 P.M.

Yes. Yes, please.

Molly’s words echoed in his mind and it was all Gabe could do to keep his touch gentle. He’d held himself in check all this time, ever since she’d first walked into the Choux, contenting himself with only looking.

Not touching. Not tasting.

Not having.

But she’d said yes.

Hands trembling, he urged her arms over her head and pulled her T-shirt up and over her breasts. And let himself take a moment to stare. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

“So are you,” she whispered back, then made a needy little noise. “Gabe, come on.”

He flashed her a grin. “Impatient.”

“Damn straight.”

“I thought of you,” he confessed. “Every time you’d come into my place, I’d watch you and then I’d think of you later.”

Her lips curved slyly. “Did you jerk off when you’d think of me?”

His eyes widened, his cheeks heating. Hell, they were on freaking fire.

But he nodded. “I did.”

She licked her bottom lip. “I might have thought of you a time or two.

When I was lying in my bed. All alone.”

Shuddering at the mental image, he kissed her lips, then kissed the curve of her jaw. “You’re not alone now.”

“No, I’m not.” She rocked her hips, rubbing herself against him, and he groaned softly, conscious that her friend was on the other side of the adjoining door, likely listening for anything that sounded like trouble. “Kiss me, Gabe. Stop thinking and kiss me.”

Not waiting for him to comply, she shoved her fingers through his hair and pulled him down, crashing their mouths together.

He stopped thinking, drowning in the taste of her. It had been so long. Too long. But anyone who’d come before had faded into a distant, fuzzy memory.

He ripped his mouth away, panting. “I want you.”

She was panting, too. “Then hurry.”

He wished there was more light so that he could see her better. Next time, he thought. Kneeling between her legs, he pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor, next to the bed. He reached for her sleep shorts, but she distracted him, lifting up enough to run her hands over his pecs.

“I like your chest,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss his collarbone. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” The word came out strangled, but clear enough that she kept going, kissing across his chest until she got to his left nipple, giving it little licks that sent a jolt of sensation right to his cock. “Good.”

It felt so good. Better than good.

He felt her lips curve against his skin, her chuckle a puff of warm breath that made him shiver. “Mmm. We’re down to one-word utterances. I think you like this.”

She made her way to the other side of his chest, sometimes kissing and sometimes sucking so hard that he was sure he’d have marks. Finally, she got to the other nipple, this time interspersing the little licks with light bites that sent jolts of pleasure down his body.

“Fuck.” The word came out on a shudder and his body was in motion, driven by instinct and the desire to see her completely bare. He grabbed the waist of her shorts. “Lift.”

She did and he yanked the shorts down her legs, taking her panties with them.

“Molly.” He stared down at her, taking in her luscious curves, the flare of her hips, the neat patch of blond hair between her legs. He swallowed hard, unable to find the words. “Molly,” was all he could say.

She didn’t give him any more time to look, though. “Off,” she muttered, pulling his boxer briefs to his knees, making his cock bounce against his stomach. She drew in a breath. “Oh yeah.” She leaned in and licked him, base to crown, and he couldn’t control his shout.

“Fuck.”

She glanced up, meeting his eyes in the darkness. “Is that what you want?”

He swallowed again, his mouth watering with how much he wanted. “I have a condom.”

He was afraid she’d wonder why. Afraid she’d think him forward.

Presumptuous.

But she didn’t, flopping back to the pillow in a move that sent her breasts bouncing hypnotically. “Then get it.”

Blindly he reached for his wallet on the nightstand and fumbled for the foil packet he’d stored there more than a year ago. His hands no longer trembled, thank God. With sure, deliberate movements, he tore the packet, retrieved the condom, and slid it down his length.

All while she watched him hungrily.

He settled himself between her legs, his heart pounding so hard it was a wonder it didn’t leap from his chest. Be a good man. Make sure this is what she wants. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—”

She hooked her legs around his hips. “I’m sure.” A moment later he was blinking up at her, having been rolled to his back. “Are you?”

He grinned so wide that he thought his face would break. “Yes. Are you gonna ride me, Molly?”

She braced her hands on his chest. “That’s my plan.”

They both groaned as she took him inside her body. She was warm and tight and . . .

“Ohmygod,” he muttered, his words running together, and she laughed, her happiness filling the space between them. Filling his heart.

He could fall for this woman.

Maybe he was already starting to.

Then she was moving, sex and grace and . . . joy. Watching Molly Sutton taking her pleasure, uninhibited, was something he didn’t ever want to end.

But all too soon his body got caught up in the moment, in the pleasure. He gripped her hips, thrusting up to meet her every downward bounce.

So good. But he wanted more. More contact. More skin. More of her.

Crunching his abs, he sat up halfway, sucking her nipple into his mouth, feeling her fingers digging into his shoulders. Hearing her gasps and pleas for more, more, harder.

He was barely aware that she was no longer gripping one of his shoulders until she gave a keening cry. Looking between them, he saw her touching herself, furiously rubbing her clit. He barely had time to register how damn hot that was before her back arched, her head falling back as she moaned, long and low.

That was it. That was all he could take. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled them back over and began thrusting in earnest. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t neat, but he couldn’t care. He didn’t know when he’d felt so good.

His orgasm hit him like a crashing wave, pulling him under as his body spasmed and he thrust one more time. Then he exhaled, careful to keep his weight on his forearms as he lowered his body. He shuddered as a final spasm rocked through his body.

“Mmmm,” she murmured. “You okay?”

He chuckled tiredly. His whole body felt limp and . . . good. So good that he was still thinking in—what had she said? Oh, right. One-word utterances.

“I think so. You?”

“I know so. If that’s you out of practice, I can’t wait to see how you improve.”

So they’d do this again, which was a relief. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t experience this again. But he was crushing her, so he carefully pulled out, tied off the condom, and tossed it in the trash can next to the bed.

She snuggled up against his side. “I think we should sleep now.”

He just might be able to now. His mind was shutting down, too tired to worry about what tomorrow would bring. He pulled her closer, content when she rubbed her cheek against the coarse hair on his chest.

He could get used to this. Holding her while she slept.

“You’re a nice pillow,” she murmured sleepily. “I like this. Like you.

More than I should.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep, Molly. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

TUESDAY, JULY 26, 10:30 P.M.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ashley bit her lip, looking around the plush hotel room as she contemplated his request. Lamont had arranged for her to meet him there, saying he needed her help to save some children. Which was exactly the right thing to say, because punishing child abusers was the reason Ashley had given when he’d first interviewed her for his assistant. Having endured abuse herself as a child, taking abusers down was her passion.

But she wasn’t fierce. Joelle would have jumped at the opportunity to role-play before his money had spoiled her. Ashley, however, was deep in thought.

“If you can’t help me,” he murmured, “I’ll understand. This isn’t your job.

But there’s really no one I trust more than you to help me pull this off.”

Again, that was the right thing to say, because her cheeks tinged pink, her smile shy but bright. “I want to help you, and I will. I’m just thinking about the questions I need to ask first.”

He sat back in the chair next to the bed. “Ask away. Your safety and comfort with the situation are my priorities.”

“Well, okay. Why aren’t the police handling this?”

“Good question.” It really was. Dammit, Ashley. “They are. They’ll be backing you up.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “But don’t they have undercover policewomen?”

Her questions came as a surprise. He’d honestly expected her to say yes without the third degree. If she said no to his request, he’d have to kill her tonight. That he’d end up killing her at some point was a foregone conclusion, despite what he’d said to Jackass. What else could he have said, what with the man looking at him like he was crazy?

I’m not crazy. In fact, I might be the only sane one in this mess. He might be the only one truly thinking.

Once he’d presented his dilemma with Burke Broussard to her, she had information that could hurt him. But he’d really hoped for at least one more roll between the sheets.

Ashley was very enthusiastic in bed, and he’d miss that.

He frowned at her. “If you’re not willing, I can find someone else.”

“No, no, no,” she said hastily. “I never said I wasn’t willing. Just asking why a policewoman isn’t handling this. I’m just an office assistant.” She grimaced. “I’m not even your office assistant anymore.”

Ouch. Nice aim, Ash. “The policewoman involved was compromised,” he lied. “Her cover was blown. I’ve been working with NOPD, and they asked for my help.”

Which was also a total and complete lie, of course. Not that Ashley would know that. She was a genius with spreadsheets, but her common sense was lacking.

“Okay,” she said, clearly still doubtful. “All I have to do is call this Broussard guy first thing in the morning and tell him that I need him to

investigate a case for me. That someone tried to kill me, and I think it’s related to the murder of my sister JoAnn back during Katrina.”

“Exactly.” He smiled the way she liked best. “That’s my girl.”

She smiled back, happy to be useful to him. “And this will lure him out of hiding so that you can grab him?”

“It will.” It had to. If Broussard suspected, it would be even harder to lure him out.

“And this Broussard is guilty of trafficking kids?”

“He is. But he’s never harmed a woman, so you’re in no danger. You’ll wear a wire and we’ll be waiting outside.” That much was true. He’d already made calls to the most reliable names on his list, both as personal security for himself and to take care of Eckert. One of his men would be waiting outside so that they could follow Jackass’s men when they tailed Broussard, because his partner could not be trusted. “As soon as you come out of his office, we’ll whisk you away.”

Her brow furrowed again. “What if Broussard asks me why I chose him?

He might be suspicious.”

“Tell him that you were visited by a cop named Rocky who was investigating your sister’s murder. You tried to call Rocky, but he’s dead.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s dead? How?”

“Shot himself. Very sad. He was a good cop. Tell Broussard that Rocky told you that if anything bad happened to you, to go to Broussard because they were partners in the NOPD.”

Her eyes widened further. “Broussard was a cop?”

“He was.”

Her jaw tightened, rage filling her normally placid expression. “Then he deserves to be thrown in jail. Maybe one of the criminals he arrested will give him justice.”

He smiled, this time sincerely. “I like the way you think, Ash. So you’ll do it?”

“I will.”

“You can’t use your real name. You’re Alicia Rollins and your sister was JoAnn.” Not Nadia Hall, because he’d never say that name again. Plus, there

really had been a JoAnn Rollins who’d died during Katrina, so if Burke checked, his suspicions would be satisfied. Kind of fitting since Rocky had done the same thing—giving his boss the name of a Katrina victim instead of Xavier Morrow when he’d been pressed for the eyewitness’s identity. “Got it?”

“I do.”

“I’ll send you a fake address that you can give him when he asks where you live.”

Lamont had received both the names to be used and the address from Jackass an hour before. It was a house in a small South Carolina town, not too far from where Gabe Hebert’s lady PI used to live. If Margaret Sutton got curious and went to investigate, she’d receive a little present, courtesy of one of Jackass’s trusted operatives.

Lamont hoped it worked. And if it didn’t, none of it could be tied to him.

No harm, no foul.

“And,” he added, “you can’t give Broussard any details over the phone except for—”

“Except that someone tried to kill me and it’s due to the murder of my sister during Katrina. I got it. I promise.” Her lips curved seductively. “And now that we’ve taken care of business . . .”

He pushed away the irritation at being interrupted and glanced at his watch. “I can stay for a little while.”

She tilted her head, trying—and failing—to look nonchalant. “And your wife?”

“I’m going to divorce her.” More or less. “But I have to wait until—”

She sighed. “After the election. I know, I know.”

He reached for her hand. “She’s watching me too closely. I can’t risk her having any ammunition against me. Against us. She’s not a nice person.”

Ashley laughed bitterly. “I figured that out for myself.”

“Let’s not think about her right now. We have this lovely room and complete privacy.”

She nodded firmly. “You’re right. Let’s have some fun.”