The Silent Witness

The adrenaline seeped from her body. Badly shaken, she lay beneath him while a myriad of remembered emotions assaulted her. She selected anger and drew it on like a cloak.

How dare he scare her like this?

“Get off me!”

She shoved as hard as she could. Alex rolled away from her in the darkness. When she would have reached for the light switch, he stopped her, gripping her hand firmly.

“No lights.”

“Why not? What do you mean coming in here scaring me half to death in the middle of the night? Who do you think you are?”

“Your first lover?”

The words charged the silence with an arc of electricity that should have been visible to the naked eye.

“You bastard,” she said quietly.

“Not technically.” He stood up and sighed. “I’m sorry, Nicki. That was uncalled for.”

“Yes. It was.” She braced herself on her hands, halfway to a sitting position. “What are you doing here, Alex?”

In the darkness of the room, she sensed him rocking back on his heels. “Tonight? I need to know why Osher thinks you are an eyewitness to the murder last night.”

Hurt primed her anger, pushing aside all the other emotions. Even though it was too dark to make out more than shapes and shadows in the room, she covered her bare breasts with the sheet and sat up, suddenly all too aware that she was naked beneath the thin bit of linen.

“Why don’t you go ask him? He has my statement.”

The whistle of Alex’s pent-up breath was loud in the silent room.

“I’ve done all the talking with Osher that I plan to do. Talk to me, Nicki,” he coaxed. “Tell me what you saw last night.”

There had been a time when she would have told him anything. Everything. A time when she would have cheerfully lied for him or worse. But she wasn’t sixteen any more and he wasn’t the brash young Alex Coughlin she’d loved so desperately.

No. Now he was the brash mature Alex Coughlin. And that made him twice as dangerous.

“Get out of my house, Alex.”

“I can’t do that, Nicki. You were in your shop last night. You would have had to break speed records to get upstairs to your apartment before those shots were fired. That means you didn’t see the crime. Unless you opened the back door. Is that what you did, Nicki?”

“How do you know what I was doing last night?”

“You know the answer to that,” he said after a moment.

“I want to hear your version.”

He sat down on the bed, much too close to her. She could feel the heat of him against her hip right through the sheet. A heat she would have welcomed with open arms once upon a time.

“No games, Nic. This is too important.”

“I’d say so. A man died last night.”

“Yes. Now exactly what did you see?”

Nervously, she tugged on the sheet, aware that his eyes tracked the movement despite the darkness of the room.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were doing here last night. Tell me why you were watching my shop. Why last night when you’ve been in town for months?”

“You knew that?”

“That you were back?” She hoped he didn’t hear the pain she tried to bury deep in her heart. “Have you been gone so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in a small town, Alex? I knew you were back an hour after you breezed in on that motorcycle, acting like the world owed you big time. I can’t believe you’re still thumbing your nose at the police. I would have thought you’d have outgrown that phase years ago. Think your father would be proud?”

The carefully chosen barb struck its target. She heard his indrawn hiss. He reached forward suddenly and grabbed her forearms in a grip she couldn’t break.

The moment his rough palms touched her skin, her body seemed to go wild. The rush of sensual memories mixed with an undercurrent of new fear. Why had she pushed him? Ilona had described the murderer clearly. Alex fit the killer’s description right down to the clothes he’d been wearing.

“You always did have more guts than brains,” he said softly. “Let’s leave my father out of this. I haven’t got a lot of time right now. Tell me what you saw.”

Fear raised the hair on her forearms. Alex could kill her right here and no one would know. There wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him. The implacable hardness she sensed in him went deeper than she would have thought. Where was the young man she had loved so desperately? Didn’t any of him remain?

“I’m not telling you anything.” She refused to be cowed by Alex. Part of her didn’t believe he would harm her no matter how much he’d changed. But there was another part that wasn’t quite so certain.

“Stubborn. My God, you’re stubborn.” His hand stroked her cheek. The caress made her shiver. “But you’re still as soft as midnight.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

She didn’t want to respond to his touch, but it would have been easier to stop breathing. She stared into the darkness of his eyes and tried not to want him anymore.

“We aren’t the same people, Alex.” But the remembered feel of his hands on her was erasing time and stirring forgotten yearnings to life.

“Yes we are.”

His mouth descended, covering hers. Firm, hard lips demanded a response. For an instant, she yielded. Only, this wasn’t the kiss of her dreams, or even the kiss of her memory. This was an assault of raw, hard passion.

Nicki went still, even though her body clamored in instant recognition.

Alex broke away the moment he realized she wasn’t reciprocating. Rife with self-loathing, he leaned back, running a hand through hair that was already tangled and windblown from his ride over here.

What was he doing? For one crazed second, the exotic scent of her had driven him over some edge. He’d lost control in a way he hadn’t done since that summer all those years ago. One taste. One incredible taste, and it was fifteen years ago all over again. He wanted her with a longing that stunned him.

Alex stood and stepped away from the bed. Now he was the one who was shaking. He slicked his hands down his jeans, trying to still the crazy waves of desire that demanded more.

He’d always had excellent night vision, so despite the darkness, he saw how wide her eyes were. Wide and accusing. The sheet had slipped to reveal most of one rounded breast. She’d wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. She was still shaking as well, he realized.

“What do you want, Alex?”

The soft question lashed him with the barbs of her fear. He’d scared her.