Jenna Ryan - Mistletoe and Murder

“Are you serious?” He trapped her wrist before she could search for her keys.

“It’s for a Christmas play, Jacob. Pageant in the Park. The deputy mayor’s wife put it together. Tonight’s only a dress rehearsal, but I promised I’d be there, and I never break a promise, especially not to a seven-year-old child.”

He held fast even when she gave her wrist a tug. Romana knew she could have made a more determined effort to release herself, but her skin felt oddly warm under his fingers, and there were fiery little arrows currently racing up her arm to her throat.

“Huh.” She paused for a moment to marvel. “Didn’t expect that.”

Jacob’s expression altered slowly, went from exasperated to intrigued. He loosened his grip, but didn’t release her. Instead, he drew her closer and looked down into her eyes.

The pulse at the base of her throat beat like an erratic drum. Logically speaking, she should feel uneasy about this. After all, wanting to believe wasn’t the same thing as actually believing. Jacob had no alibi for the night Belinda Critch had died. But he did have the most riveting features, especially his eyes, sea-green with the barest hint of gray. And then there was his mouth…

“I’m…uh…hmm-lost the thought.” And possibly her mind with it. But right then she didn’t care. She was too busy wanting to pull that incredibly sexy mouth of his down and kiss him until she couldn’t think about anything else.

She’d wanted to kiss him almost from the first time she’d met him. Being married, she’d felt guilty about that, so she’d made a point of not looking any more than necessary-until Connor had cheated on her.

“Probably a good thing,” she murmured.

Jacob’s eyes fixed on hers. “Good things have the potential to turn bad, Romana. His lips twisted slightly. “Voice of experience.”

She tipped her head to regard him. Surely one kiss couldn’t hurt. She was no longer married-thank God and Grandma Grey-and dress rehearsals, even when run by political figures, seldom came off on schedule.

As was her habit, Romana deferred to her feelings, or in Jacob’s case, her hunger. Maybe it hadn’t been appropriate at the time, but she couldn’t deny that she’d fantasized about the gorgeous, dark-haired cop who’d made detective even before she’d entered the Academy. She’d glimpsed him from time to time at the station, had actually worked with him once on a murder investigation. But she’d been young back then, painfully inexperienced and probably fortunate that her male partner had watched over her like a scowling papa bear.

Romana eased forward, smiling as his eyes heated up. Danger spiked through anticipation. Her skin was already hot, and he’d barely touched her yet.

She rolled her hips, just a bit. “Are you going to let me seduce you, Detective?”

His eyes strayed to her mouth. “Thinking about it.”

Large flakes of snow drifted from a starless sky. The traffic noise became a distant buzz in her ears. As she raised her head, he ran his thumb and fingers upward along the curve of her throat until they formed a V beneath her chin.

Excitement glimmered. The desire she felt for Jacob had been in hibernation for a long time, and it wasn’t taking much to wake it up. This probably wasn’t a good idea, or a smart one. But it was just forbidden enough to be irresistible.

A blanket of snow covered the ground. The city glowed silver and gold. The night air had a bite, but it was nothing compared to the jolt that ricocheted through Romana’s system when Jacob took that last step and lowered his mouth to hers.

Her head spun in delicious circles. He tasted like sex and cool water, a tantalizing contrast. His tongue made a thorough exploration of her mouth, and she felt a sigh rise up in her throat.

Now this, she thought hazily, this was a kiss. A wicked, soul-stirring, heart-hammering kiss. And it was exactly what she’d wanted, what she’d needed from him tonight.

But even off balance, there were limits. Giving his lower lip a nip, she pulled away. It was either that or move the whole thing into his SUV.

“Guess I still have a few lingering fantasies.” She disentangled her hair from his hand. “You’re a great kisser, Detective Knight-for a man who prefers his own company.”

He ran a thumb over her jaw. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me, Romana?”

She shimmied her hips against his. “I don’t need to try. I already have.” She gave him another quick nip.

His eyes tempted her to do it all again-until she spied the gleam deep inside them.

She took a wise step back. “I need air, Jacob. You’re making me dizzy.”

“Sounds promising.”

In spite of herself, Romana couldn’t resist hooking two fingers in the top of his waistband. Smart was one thing, but there was no need to end the moment in a blind rush.

“You’re such a conundrum,” she murmured as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I have a feeling I’m going to…” The thought died when she spotted the object several feet in front of her. Rectangular shape, bloodred color and all too familiar to her these days. “Oh, damn,” she breathed.

“What?” Jacob swung his head, followed her gaze to the windshield of his SUV.

“That’s one of Critch’s envelopes.” She made a quick sweep of the lot. “And I swear it wasn’t here a moment ago.”

Jacob yanked it free and handed it to her even as he stuffed his gun into the top of his jeans. His eyes never stopped moving.

Romana regarded the flap, visualized briefly, then opened it. Her hands wanted to tremble, but she sucked it up and steadied her nerves. This was a scare tactic, an effective one, but she’d be damned if she’d play Critch’s game, no matter how rattled she felt.

Still scanning, Jacob drew her into the shelter of his large vehicle. He gave her a few seconds to read the message before he murmured, “Out loud, Romana.”

She frowned at the poorly printed words. “‘If you’re keeping score,’” she read, “‘this is your second threat.’” She turned the paper over, searched for more. “What threat?”

As if cued, a pair of projectiles whizzed past her ear. She heard two soft thwacks, then found herself on her knees in the snow. Jacob held her firmly in place while he combed the shadowy fir trees on the perimeter of the lot.

“Why did I ask?” She pushed at his hands. “I’m not going to jump up, Jacob. Do you see him?”

“No.”

Crawling forward, Romana stole a look around the bumper. “There aren’t any vehicles over here,” she said. Then she raised her sights, and her heart gave a single, hard beat. “Ah-well.”

“What?”

“I found our second threat.”

Still on her knees, she indicated Jacob’s windshield-and the pair of neat, round bullet holes Critch had fired through it.

Jacob woke with a hiss and an image in his head that had him reaching for his gun before his eyes were fully open.

It was the same dream, always the same-his father shouting, his mother closing doors to keep the worst of it in.

Monsters under the bed had nothing on Jacob’s father in a rage. As a boy, he’d been willing to join the hidden demons so he wouldn’t have to hear what he knew would come next.

He remembered the way his heart had thudded. That helped block the sound. Beside him, Kermit sang in his silly frog voice. He thought it was good to be green. Jacob thought it was better to pretend.

The dream rolled forward. Morning came. Everything seemed fine, back to normal-except his mother wore a long-sleeved, high-necked shirt in mid-July, his father snarled into his coffee cup, and no one spoke, not even Jacob’s chatty Muppet frog.