Page 4 of Forbidden Heat

But she shakes her head and turns her attention back to the tray. “Eat what you like,” Mrs. J says, “and don’t worry about the rest.”

“All right. Thank you.” She considers for a moment, then picks up one of the BLT pieces and takes a bite. Her eyes close as she chews, a blissful expression spreading across her face. “This is delicious.”

Mrs. J knows she’s an excellent cook, but she still looks inordinately pleased. I give her a nod of thanks and she makes to withdraw, saying, “Just put the tray outside the door when you’re finished, Miss Morgan.”

“I will.” She takes another bite, her eyes going to me when I pull up a chair next to the bed. “Are you staying to make sure I eat?”

“Yes,” I say placidly. She shakes her head again, but doesn’t respond. I wait while she finishes the half BLT, some of the fruit, and half a grilled cheese, along with the milk. With every bite, something in me settles.

“Comfort food,” she says at last. “I wish I could eat it all, but I’m stuffed now.”

“All right.” I rise and take the tray. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

“Good night.” She watches me go, looking as though she’d like to say more, but holds her peace.

I close the door behind me, wondering how long our unspoken truce will last. I’m halfway down the stairs when my cell phone signals an incoming call.

Very few people have this number, and even fewer would contact me this late. I set the tray down and take the call. “Thorne here.”

“It’s Vince. We’ve got a situation.”

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