in police custody for questioning, although he obviously hadn’t been arrested. This time.
“Come on, Anna,” he coaxed, pushing off the side of the garage. “Let’s go for a ride. Feel the wind in your hair and the rush of power between your thighs. We can just forget everything for a few minutes.”
Between my thighs. Surprisingly enough, I don’t think he meant it as a come-on or an innuendo. The idea of being free and away from life for a short time was beyond enticing. Just to not think.
He gave that smirk that had ticked me off earlier and straddled the bike, kicking it free. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me, his face full of dare. How many times through the years had I dreamed of him asking me for a ride on a motorcycle? Would it be as good as I fantasized?
I’ve never claimed to be anything other than human.
Without a word, I tossed my purse back into my car and strode to him, taking the jacket and putting my arms through the sleeves. It was way too big and smelled like him. Wild and free. Then I took his hand and hopped up behind him. The feel of the hard leather against my legs caught me first, and then I slid my hands around his waist. His abdomen was flat with ripped muscles that made me bite back a groan. He levered up and then down, starting the bike, and it came to life with a fierce roar that vibrated throughout my entire body.
“This is such a mistake,” I muttered, wrapping my arms more securely around him. Around Aiden Devlin.
He laughed, the sound low and masculine. “Hold on, Angel.” He flipped around and drove down the drive.
Exhilaration rushed through me and I held on tight, throwing my head back to feel the rush. It felt beyond amazing. We reached the end of my drive, surrounded by trees, and he slowed. I settled my chin on his T-shirt.
He spoke over his shoulder, his mouth close to mine. “Hold on tight, go loose against me, and just enjoy the ride. Trust me to take care of you.” Then he turned the powerful beast, opened the throttle, and let loose.
I tightened my hold and relaxed against him at the same time, letting his body steer the bike around the twisty turns of Tamarack Lake road. Trust him? I did. It was probably a mistake, but with the roar of the bike and rush of the wind, I really didn’t care right now. I was free and safe and wild and all me. There were no cases, no anniversary cards, no stress.
Just the wind and the incredibly hard body I was holding.
I turned my head to rest my cheek against his muscled back, closing my eyes just to feel. I’d be lying if I said the danger inherent in both the man and the ride didn’t call to me on some level. My shrink could worry about that tomorrow.
It took about half an hour to reach the opposite side of the lake, and Aiden pulled off into an empty camping area. I looked around, spotting the tire swing hanging from an old pine tree that had been there forever. He cut the engine. I slowly released him and sat back.
In a move that was as fast as it was smooth, he twisted, hooked an arm around my waist, and pulled me around to face him on the bike with the handlebars cradling my back. His thighs bracketed mine, and his hands on the bar bracketed, well, me.
I gave a surprised yip. Then I grinned. “You have used that move before.”
His eyes twinkled the darker shades of the blue spectrum as the sun went down. Birds came back to life around us, but other than that, we were alone. “Not with you.”
Charming. Definitely charming. With his hair mussed and his face more relaxed than I’d seen it so far, he drew me in a way I couldn’t explain. Wouldn’t want to. Yet, I had questions. “Did you kill Randy Taylor?”
He drew back slightly, his brows rising. “No. Did you sleep with Nick Basanelli?”
Surprise caught me, but I hid it. “No. Did you kill Cheryl Smythers?”
His face softened a fraction, and he looked me right in the eye. “Absolutely not. Even if I had killed her numbnuts of a boyfriend—which I did not—I could never kill an eighteen-year-old girl. Not in a million years.”