A Profiler's Case for Seduction - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,52

stir of morning light filtered in through the nearby window.

He was on his back, Dora by his side, her hand on his chest as if at some point through the night she’d sought the feel of his heartbeat.

She was beautiful in the morning light, not like a twenty-five-year-old woman might be beautiful, without lines or character on her features. Dora looked like the mature woman she was, with tiny faint laugh lines radiating out from her eyes even in sleep. Mark found each and every one of those lines beautiful.

Emotions he’d never felt with Sarah buoyed up inside him as he remained motionless, watching Dora sleep. He wanted to be inside her head, know every thought in her brain, each and every desire she entertained. He wanted to know every inch of her both inside and out.

He’d told her he wasn’t eager to try a relationship again, but he realized now he’d been wrong. He and Sarah had known they’d made a mistake in the first year of their marriage, but by that time Sarah had discovered she was pregnant.

They’d agreed to try to work it out for the baby’s sake, but ultimately they had never been right for each other and he was only grateful they’d escaped the marriage relatively unscathed, with Grace as a bonus prize.

Dora felt right in the way Sarah never had. He could look forward ten years in time and see her by his side. He could look forward twenty years and she was still there.

All he had to do was figure out how to make her see what he saw so clearly at the moment—that they belonged together, that they were two halves of a whole.

Suddenly he was looking into the depths of her soft, sleep-laden gray eyes. “Good morning,” he murmured softly.

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and snuggled closer against him, as if reluctant to have a new day begin.

He was definitely reluctant to begin a new day. The last thing he wanted to do was leave this bed, release Dora from his arms. But he had an early-morning briefing and could only indulge in this sweet existence for a little while longer.

He breathed in the scent of her, the faint wildflower fragrance that he knew would haunt him for a long time after he left this small town and this woman behind.

Unless he could somehow make her see that they belonged together, that it was okay for her to let down her guard, to let him into her life completely, when it came time to go, he’d leave here all alone.

“I wouldn’t mind waking up right here every morning,” he said softly.

“Hmm, nice,” she replied, obviously still half-asleep.

They remained like that for another twenty minutes or so and then Mark knew he had to get up and get ready for the day ahead. He needed to get back to his motel room, shower and change into clean clothes before heading to the war room in the county courthouse.

Reluctantly he withdrew his arms from around her and rolled away. She mewled like a kitten who had just lost a ball of yarn. “I’ve got to get back to the motel and head in for work,” he said as he got out of the bed.

She rolled over on her back, her sleepy gaze watching him as he grabbed his clothes off the floor and began to dress. “This is the best way ever to start a new day,” she said while he pulled on his slacks.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replied with a grin. He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that his wish was that they start every day this way, but he was afraid of her response, afraid that by pushing her too quickly he’d never have a chance for something more.

He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, and realized that he had fallen off the cliff, that he was in love with Dora Martin and he wasn’t sure what to do about it, wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about it.

When he was dressed, he walked over to her side of the bed and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. “I’ll check in with you later today, okay?”

“I’ll be at the bookstore tonight until eight-thirty,” she replied. “And if I was a good woman I’d get up right now and fix you a quick breakfast before you leave.”

He smiled down at her. “You are a good woman, Dora, and I’ll grab a doughnut at