Flawless (New York Confidential #1)(46)

They lay in silence for several minutes—probably necessary since she could barely breathe, much less speak. He pulled her close to the slick dampness of his body and smoothed her hair before he spoke again.

“Whatever my punishment might be, I’ll accept it gladly,” he said softly.

That roused her from the cloud of mist and magic that had surrounded her in the aftermath of their spontaneous union. She rose up on an elbow, staring at him. “I’ll never say anything,” she promised vehemently. “I’d never risk your job.”

That drew a smile from him, and he reached up to touch her hair with something like reverence. “I don’t kiss and tell, either, Miss Finnegan.” He laughed. “And I certainly have no intention of risking the mighty wrath of the brothers Finnegan. Not that I’d ever deceive your brothers. But do you honestly think that I’ll ever be able to look at you and not feel, not remember, what just happened between us? As far as my feelings for you go, I don’t intend to deny anything, just to be careful enough so that no one decides I need to be reassigned.”

She frowned at that. “I understand that I’ll be called as a witness when the thieves you caught that night go to jail, but the case doesn’t really involve me anymore.” She bit her lower lip. “You’re looking for the copycats now, and they don’t have anything to do with me or Finnegan’s. You’ve been great, helping me after the whole subway thing, but that’s not an FBI matter, is it?”

He didn’t answer, and that scared her.

“You don’t really think I’m in danger, do you?” she asked.

Again he held silent, but only for a moment that time. “No,” he finally said.

She didn’t feel convinced. “You only escorted me home to protect me from reporters, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pulling her back down to his side. As she lay there curled against him, he spoke again. “And no,” he said softly. “Or... I’m not sure.”

“Craig...”

He smiled suddenly. “You’ve finally used my first name.”

“It finally seemed appropriate—really appropriate.”

His smile deepened, and he said, “Let’s just say I’m suspicious by nature and leave it at that,” he said, pulling her closer.

As much as she liked the feel of her naked flesh next to his, she pulled away. Her bedroom light was off, but she hadn’t closed the door and they were bathed in a glow from the other room. That was enough for her to see that, just as he had tried to reassure Julie earlier, he was trying to be casual now and not arouse her fears.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” she said.

He let out a long breath and rolled to his side to look her in the eye. “Let me do the worrying, okay? You just be careful. I studied the video surveillance footage from the subway. I watched the guy in the hoodie you told the cop about. The footage is difficult to follow, but he does move around, just as you said. And he did end up behind you just before Shirley Martin started screaming and ended up on the tracks.”

“Oh, my God,” Kieran breathed. “I felt that he was there, but I didn’t want to believe it. Do you think that means something? I mean, people move around on the platform all the time. Do we even know for certain that Shirley was pushed? You’ve taken the subway. People always surge forward when a train is coming.”

“They do,” he agreed.

*

Craig tried to concentrate on her words, on the potentially life-threatening situation.

But at this moment, he knew they were safe.

The light from the hallway created a halo of fire around her hair, turned her flesh to porcelain and highlighted her exquisite beauty. And the way she felt against him...

“Trust me, believe in me,” he said, and pulled her closer.

His lips found hers. His hands slid down her porcelain flesh, but it wasn’t really like porcelain at all. It was silk; it was warm and vibrant. She touched him in return, and soon they were making love again. The problems of the world seemed far away. It was as if they had entered a time warp, moved into a different dimension and existed in their own intimately urgent universe.

But, of course, eventually they were forced to come back to earth.

“I just can’t live like...this. I can’t be afraid of every man in a hoodie I see.”

He pulled her close. “Let’s worry about that tomorrow. Right now we need some rest.”

“Did you set an alarm for five again?” she asked him.

“Seven.”

“A little better,” she said, curling close. He held her, staring at the ceiling. He tried to remember the last time he had lain so with a woman and felt this way, but he couldn’t.

“Wrong,” she murmured.

“Very wrong,” he said. “But sometimes it’s good to be wrong.”

He saw the slight curve of her smile as she lay with her head on his chest. He kept an arm around her, feeling every little thing, the way her hair fell across his chest, the pressure of her body, the feel of her long, long legs.

He stared at the ceiling.

Oh, yeah, this was very wrong. And he had every intention of going on being wrong.

He felt her relax as she finally slept.

Eventually he drifted to sleep himself.