Deadly Touch - Heather Graham Page 0,109
her, turning her around to face him.
“I’d love something similar for us,” he said softly, kissing her lips.
“Is that a proposal?”
“An assumption, but an educated guess,” he said.
She grinned. “I think you’re supposed to be on your knees, and maybe have a ring to offer me, something like that.”
“Really? You don’t get down and ask me?” he asked.
She grinned. “Hmm. Cocky, aren’t you?”
“Well, no, not really. I mean, well, I don’t have the ring—yet. The thing is, I know why nothing else has worked all my life. I know what I want. Being with you. Dealing with the complicated, the good and the bad, handling the painful together, and all that’s good and sweet and wonderful, as well. I like to believe you feel the same way—without being too cocky.” He suddenly fell to his knees with a dramatic finesse. “Marry me, because you are the love of my life, my soul mate, my heart mate, and...”
“And?”
“Frankly, because you just might be crazy enough to be with me—for all of our lives.”
“The first part was the best!” She laughed. “Sure. I’ll marry you. Who else would be crazy enough to marry me?”
“At least I started out being eloquent!”
“Eloquent.” She shook her head. “I’ll teach you eloquent.”
She kissed him. The kiss deepened, and they were breathless when they parted, ready to tear off their clothing and take that kiss where it was destined to go.
“Hmm,” he murmured, eyes golden and teasing. “That was a deliciously eloquent kind of silence.”
“I can demonstrate it some more if you’d like,” she said.
“Please do!”
She did.
And that night, she remembered back, when she had wondered if lying beside him each night could be her life, how much she had yearned for this, a lifetime with him, sleeping beside him, waking with him, learning his thoughts, being a part of his life.
She curled into his arms, and she was saddened as she thought about Jennifer and Jordan again.
Saddened, and grateful. She had learned from them.
They had the gift of life. And the gift of love.
The future would bring hard times, new cases, puzzles, trials, work and more. Ups and downs.
Life.
Love.
And the unique and precious beauty of both.
* * *
Keep reading for an exclusive peek at the next spine-tingling tale in the Krewe of Hunters series by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham.
Dreaming Death
When rookie agent Stacey Hanson has a dream that predicts the next victim of a serial killer, she teams up with agent Keenan Wallace to stop the violence, even if it might mean coming face to face with a nightmare.
Available September 22, 2020, from MIRA.
Dreaming Death
by Heather Graham
Prologue
A monster had come.
His eyes burned like twin globes of fire.
He was big and moved with purpose. All she could see was the red of his eyes and the bright red and pitch black of his demon face.
She’d seen him before...seen his face.
Somehow, she realized he wasn’t a demon. He was wearing a mask, a dark shirt, dark pants, a long jacket, and there was a bulge at his hip.
She thought he was carrying a gun.
She was grateful to realize he couldn’t see her. She was hidden, looking out. She couldn’t fathom her hiding spot, but he couldn’t see her. She knew because she was looking right at him, watching him, and he couldn’t see her.
He was in her father’s office, tearing things apart, jerking drawers from the desk, letting them crash to the floor. He rifled through the papers that fell from them, searching with the urgency of desperation.
Yes, she’d seen this as well...the demon-man tearing the place apart.
He went to the computer, swearing when he found it was password protected, sending it flying to the floor as well.
Then she heard her father’s voice. He was talking to someone.
Her mother.
The man with the burning red eyes went still, and he drew his gun, aiming it at the door.
This was new. She hadn’t seen this before.
It was then she started to scream. She had to warn them. She had to stop them from coming.
Her voice rose with urgency.
But the demon didn’t hear her; her parents didn’t hear her.
The door began to open.
“Stacey! Stacey, sweetheart! Wake up!”
Her mother was holding her. Her father was beside them. While her mom spoke and held her, her father smoothed back her hair.
“Baby, it’s a nightmare,” her dad said.
Her mother looked at him anxiously. “David, this is the third time. We’ve got to do something. We’ve got to get help.”
“Stacey, stop shaking! It’s a nightmare. Just a dream,” her father said firmly.
“No.