“What are you talking? What is that? What—”
A knife thrust toward her. So startled by the attack, she barely felt the pain in her shoulder. Frozen, she stared up at him in horror.
“No, stop, please … Stop!”
The knife struck again. She stumbled backward and turned to run. Too late. Agony in her shoulder and back. This time the pain was intense … urgent. Twisting around, Charlene screamed as she raised her hands to fight back, slapping ineffectually as the knife descended again and again. Slashing, ripping, destroying.
Blood was everywhere. He was ruining her beautiful gown. The pain was excruciating … unbearable. Why, why, why?
The floor appeared before her, slamming into her face. She lay, panting, too tired to cry, too stunned to speak.
A voice from above whispered silkily: “How about it, darling? Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
CHAPTER
TWO
“Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up.”
Samantha Wilde woke with a smile on her face. That sexy baritone growl did it to her every time. Rolling over onto her back, she blinked sleepily up at the harshly beautiful face of Quinn Braddock—surely the most perfect man on earth. Before she could kiss that perfection and entice him back to bed, her foggy brained registered that he was dressed.
“I thought you weren’t going to the hospital until later today.”
“That’s still the plan. Charlene called and asked me to drop by for a few minutes.”
Samantha grimaced in sympathy. She had never met Quinn’s ex-wife, but she had heard enough stories about the woman to make her glad she hadn’t. Not that Quinn would talk about her. Everything she’d heard had come secondhand. The only thing Quinn had ever said was that he never should have married her. The look on his face when her name came up was enough to keep Samantha from asking more. Quinn was a warm and compassionate man but a cold, hard look entered his eyes at the mention of his ex-wife.
Hiding her yawn behind her hand, Samantha gave a full-body stretch, wincing at her slightly stiff muscles. She had tackled a suspect yesterday when he’d tried to run. Though the perp had gotten the worse part when he had tried to fight her, she still had some aches she needed to work out.
“Still sore?”
Nothing got by this man. She’d once told him that if he ever wanted to leave medicine, he’d make a great cop. “Just a little. A hot shower will help.”
“I’ll give you a massage tonight.”
A shiver of anticipation swept through her. “All over?”
He lowered his mouth over hers and spoke against her lips. “Every soft, silky inch of you will know my touch.”
Groaning her anticipation, Samantha wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer. His mouth moved over hers for several long, satisfying seconds. She uttered a small sound of disappointment when he pulled away from her and stood.
“Gotta go.”
Samantha propped herself up on her elbows. “Something wrong at Charlene’s house?”
“No.” His voice went hard and abrupt.
She wasn’t put off by his short answer. She just hated that his day was starting off on such a sour note. Considering the things she’d heard about Charlene, Quinn’s relationship with his ex-wife was understandably strained. They’d been divorced for three years now, but Charlene had a tendency to call her former husband often. Samantha had no worries that Quinn would be tempted to go back to her. He might not have much to say about her, but if one read between the lines, his opinion of Charlene was just below that of his regard for slugs.
Hoping to get that hard look off his face, she said, “I’ll be working until at least nine tonight. Want to meet for a late dinner somewhere?”
As a new homicide detective, Samantha often had unpredictable hours. Fortunately Quinn’s hospital schedule was just as grueling and time-consuming, so he understood about her crazy hours and limited time.
He leaned over and pressed an absent-minded kiss to her forehead. “You’ll be too tired to go out. Come over to my place and I’ll have something for you.”
Another reason she had fallen in love with Quinn Braddock. He loved to spoil her.
Smiling her gratitude, she reached up and caressed his clean-shaven jaw. “I’ll bring the wine.”
He lowered his head again, moving his lips softly, confidently over hers. Samantha pressed upward, wanting a deeper taste. When he pulled away, her lips pouted her disappointment.
“Be careful. You’re half a second away from having this sheet stripped away and me inside you.”
A familiar delicious throb began.