Shadow Woman A Novel Page 0,54

he had to get out of here before he did something beyond stupid.

Less than twenty minutes after letting himself into the house, Xavier let himself back out. It was still raining, which was a godsend. The surveillance car was still in the same place, but he couldn’t see any movement inside it. Maybe the rain had lulled the guy to sleep, despite the coffee. Maybe he was concentrating on pissing into a bottle. Xavier had been on surveillance himself, so he knew how it went. He was glad he wasn’t the one having to sit in that car.

He silently locked the kitchen door, both locks, then eased around the back of the house, going from shadow to shadow. When a couple of houses were between him and the surveillance car he picked up speed, wanting to get back to his truck and check the laptop, make sure the trackers were working. Then, assuming everything was working as it should, he’d go home and grab a power nap before Lizzy woke up and got started on her day.

He had to be prepared. Lizzy was waking up in more ways than one, and the shit was about to hit the fan. He knew which way he was going to jump. He’d made his choice years ago, and right or wrong, he’d stand by it.

Lizzy was alive, but she hadn’t been living.

Fuck it all, neither had he.

In her dream, he parted her legs wider with his knee, and then he was there, plunging deep. She gasped, not in pain but in relief and pleasure and a sense of connection she’d never known before. She was part of him; he was part of her.

A mirror she hadn’t noticed before—she was pretty sure it hadn’t been there before—was suddenly over the bed. It was as big as the bed, reflecting the dream back at her. The face … which face did she wear? The old one or the new one? Did it matter?

She could close her eyes to escape the unsettling image, but instead she focused on X, on the broad shoulders and muscled back and hard, round ass. He had the best ass she’d ever seen. Their bodies were entwined on the bed, his tanned skin making hers look so pale, his hard body making hers look so soft, what she could see of herself. He was bigger, wider; he almost engulfed her. But as different as they were, they fit together.

She studied his strong legs; the way he moved … easier now, almost gently. Thrusting in and out in a slow rhythm that gradually, oh so gradually, increased in speed and power.

Lizette closed her eyes as she gave over and let herself come and come and come. She screamed, her back bowing as she clutched X to her, felt him come so deep inside her…

He whispered something, but she couldn’t tell what he said. She frowned at him, opened her mouth to say, “What?” Whatever he’d said was important, he wasn’t someone who chatted just to hear his own voice, but before she could form that one word, before he could answer—

She opened her eyes. Her body lurched, every muscle tensed … and then she relaxed, unwinding one muscle at a time until she was melting into the mattress. Every muscle in her body felt weak and heavy.

She needed to go to that Walgreens more often. If X regularly shopped there, maybe she’d run into him again. Maybe this time she wouldn’t freak and run like a scared rabbit. She could give him her number, ask him out for coffee, and then…

Yeah, right. Lizette Henry, sex-starved stalker. As if real life might possibly come anywhere close to a dream. As if a man like that one didn’t have a wife, or a girlfriend. Or both.

It was raining. She closed her eyes and listened to the raindrops on the window. The rain on the roof and the windows created a soothing sound that might lull her back to sleep, though the dark morning hours were winding down, edging closer to dawn. She wondered if she’d dream about X again or if that part of the night was done. She wondered if she’d forget the details of the dream, come morning.

Right now the dream seemed so real, she was almost positive she could still smell him.

Chapter Fourteen

Felice McGowan never wasted her time worrying about status or perks, or any of the other ego traps that kept the majority of people in D.C. so preoccupied. In