Back In The Bedroom (The Wrong Bed #29)(39)

Hands shaking a little, he pulled back and put her seat belt on.

“Not here either, I suppose,” she said with a little sigh, leaning back as she echoed his earlier words in his office.

“Tess—”

“I know. Probably not anywhere, right?” She sat back and slipped out of her sweater. When she leaned forward to tuck the sweater down by her purse, her sleeveless, scooped-neck blouse gaped open enough to reveal the very top curve of her breasts, and her purple silky bra.

“We work together,” he said a little desperately. Did her panties match?

“Yep, we work together. We work and we obviously, as evident in your office earlier and also in the elevator a few days before that, do more.”

He shut her door and came around the car, sliding in behind the wheel. “It’s that ‘more’ that’s holding me up.”

“You don’t like making love?”

He jerked his gaze to her, then concentrated on merging into traffic because looking at her, seeing her need and hunger reflected in her eyes, a need and hunger that matched his own, killed him. “I like…making love.”

“Are you sure?”

Was he sure? The woman couldn’t see he had an erection threatening the very zipper on his pants? “Very,” he said tightly.

“Then what’s the problem? I mean, we’re attracted to each other, Reilly. Are you going to deny that?”

“No.”

“We’re also adults. So I don’t see why—”

“Because you deserve more than what I can give you.” He glanced over at her again. “Way more.”

“I don’t mean to sound contrary, but that’s my decision.”

His jaw started to twitch, a muscle reaction he hadn’t had since leaving the CIA. He put his fingers to the spot and said, “I’m an in-the-present type of guy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I can give you work. I can give you conversation. I can even give you great sex, but—”

“Great sex?”

She looked extremely intrigued. Damn it.

“How do you know for sure?” she asked. “Unless we try it…”

Oh man.

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I get it now. It was the L-word. I specifically said making love, didn’t I. Well, I’ll settle for wild, hot sex then. How about that, Reilly? Are you up for that?”





15




WAS HE UP for hot sex? Was she kidding? He was “up” all right. Reilly tried concentrating on the traffic, but for once there wasn’t much. He glanced at Tessa, who was waiting for him to answer. “You realize we nearly simultaneously combust every time we touch.”

She nodded. “Yes. Which I figure will come in handy in bed.”

Restraint sorely tested, he gave up reasoning with her and just drove. They were within a few minutes of her place when his cell phone rang.

Eddie’s number showed up on the display. “You get your wish,” Reilly said into the phone in lieu of a greeting. “I’m staying away tonight.” But he got no response to that, which was strange. Eddie had a response for everything. “Eddie?”

Still nothing. Not breathing, not a sound, nothing but a wide open connection.

With cool, calm precision, Reilly did a U-turn and got on the freeway northbound, heading toward La Canada. “Eddie,” he said again.

Still nothing.

Tessa was looking at him. “What’s the matter?”

A very bad feeling, for one. “Eddie,” he said into the phone. “I’m going to call 9-1-1—”

“Reilly.”

He nearly sagged in relief at the sound of his father’s whispering voice, even though it came from far away, signaling that Eddie wasn’t speaking into the phone at all, but at it. “Eddie, are you—”

“I can’t hear you,” Eddie whispered in an odd voice. “So I hope you can hear me. I dialed with my toes. I sure as hell hope you’re there and that you haven’t let some sweet young thing answer your phone for you. Wait, what am I saying, you don’t even like sweet young things.” He let out a little laugh. “Anyway, son, I’m in a bit of a bind, as you might have guessed. Literally. Don’t call the cops,” he said quickly. “You’ll see why when you get here. You are getting here, aren’t you?”

Reilly shook his head and pressed on the gas.

“I don’t want you to get upset or anything,” Eddie whispered, “but the police were wrong about Sheila. I’d call them myself and mention it, but…well, you’ll see.”

Reilly got off the freeway in La Canada and raced up Foothill Boulevard, going far above the speed limit.

Tessa’s fingers gripped the console, but she said nothing about his driving. “Is he okay?”

“I’m not sure.”

They turned onto Eddie’s street, but instead of pulling into the driveway, Reilly turned off the engine and kept his cell phone to his ear. Most of the La Canada Foothills were covered with growth indigenous to the mountains of Southern California. Eddie’s lot was no exception and the view of the house was blocked by tall, staggered oaks and pines. He turned to Tess. “Wait here.”