Page 96 of Critical Doubt

"I'm exhausted but also wired. And, to be honest, after we almost died earlier, I had this thought that I can't seem to let go of."

"What's that?"

"I didn't want the last time we were together to be the last time."

"I was thinking the same thing," he murmured.

"So, it won't be the last time."

She put her hands on either side of his face, feeling the stubble of his beard under her hands, loving the way the waves of his hair fell over his brow. His lips parted and she could feel his warm breath and that little bit of heat spread all the way through her.

"Are you going to kiss me any time soon?" he teased.

"I'm getting to it. I like looking at you, Ryker."

"I like looking at you. But I love doing more than looking."

She pressed onto her toes and gave him the kiss they both wanted. It set off the explosive sparks it always did, which made it really difficult to go as slow as she wanted. But she had this feeling down deep in her gut that this time might be the last time, and she wanted to remember every second of it.

So she fought the feelings of impatience and need and took her time tasting his mouth, molding her body to his, letting the anticipation build higher and hotter.

But Ryker wasn't on the same page, his eager hands running up under her top, his mouth demanding more. She might have been able to resist his mouth, his hands, but when he lifted his head, when he looked into her eyes, when he said, "Savannah," in a husky, rough voice, her heart melted. And when he added, "I need you," she was completely lost.

"I need you, too," she admitted. "It's scary."

"Terrifying," he murmured. "I'll protect you if you protect me."

It was the most honest, most vulnerable, most amazing thing he could have said to her. He'd made them equal. He'd respected her in a way no one else had. She did the only thing she could do—she pushed him toward the bed. When the back of his legs hit the mattress, he sat down, and she moved onto his lap, straddling his legs, taking another long, deep kiss.

And then he shifted, tossing her onto her back, pulling up her shirt, and pressing his mouth against her stomach, lighting every nerve on fire. Then he lifted his head and said, "You're going to remember this."

"So are you," she said with a promising smile.

He grinned, then undid the button on her jeans and slid them down her hips, taking her panties along with them.

They made love twice, which was the number of condoms he had in his bag. He really should have brought more, Ryker thought as he held Savannah in his arms, Thursday morning, watching the light break through the slit in the curtains. It had been a great night. They hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, but he wasn't complaining. They'd made every touch, every kiss, every time they'd lost themselves in each other completely memorable. He wasn't worried about forgetting anything about her anymore.

He was now more concerned with not being able to forget her. In the crazy world that he was living in, Savannah had become an island of truth in a sea of lies. He trusted her. She might be the only one he could trust.

His mind drifted to Paul, to the moment when Paul had looked into his eyes and said he wasn't supposed to get hurt. That he would have never fallen for the lie.

What was the lie? What had made Paul do what he'd done?

It had to be a huge lie, an incredible but obviously believable fabrication.

And Paul had thought his wife and kid would be better because of the lie.

What about the other guys?

Did they know someone had gone to Chesapeake Beach to kill him? Or, like Paul, had they thought someone was just going to scare him? Scare him away from what? Investigating? Searching for the truth? Had his questions to Mason and Hank worried someone—perhaps even one of them?

He wanted to believe that if Todd or Hank or Mason had known he was going to die that they also would have stepped in and tried to stop it. But Paul had been alone.

The buzzing of a phone took his gaze to the nightstand. It was Savannah's burner phone that was vibrating. He was about to give her a nudge when she woke up, her eyes flying open, as she rolled out of his arms. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her bare back as she reached for the phone.

"Hello?" she said, her voice breathless. She listened for a moment and then said, "What? All right. I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She paused. "I'll ask Ryker and text it to you."

She set down her phone and turned toward him, giving him a sleepy look as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "That was Parisa. They checked all the hospitals in the DC area and talked to the police near Larimer Square where Hank was allegedly struck by a car."

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