She heard what he wasn’t saying. Putting her on leave stopped her from digging deeper, while casting a discrediting shadow over her. If she continued to raise concerns, she could be written off as a disgruntled employee. And, if she just happened to have an “accident” while visiting her grandfather several hours away from the city, no one would connect the two.
Fortunately for her—assuming Varro had followed her to Pine Ridge with an agenda—that wasn’t a possibility any longer. At least not from Varro.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “So we’re back to who killed Varro?”
It was the same question she’d asked him at the waterfall, right before… yeah.
“That, I don’t know.”
“Thanks for showing me this, but we should probably call it in.”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
They stood there, an awkwardness between them that was new. One that hadn’t been there prior to her losing her mind and kissing the daylights out of him.
“I should probably go.”
His blue eyes met hers, looking far deeper than she wanted them to. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Just need to think some things through.”
“Okay. You know how to reach me.”
“I do.”
She walked back to her car, pleased that he wasn’t pushing her while kind of wishing he would. Was she the only one who’d been so affected yesterday? Or had it just been another instance where a woman practically forced herself on him? Had she somehow turned into the flirty barista who’d looked at Patrick with the cow eyes that day?
So wrapped up was she in that thought that she didn’t sense his approach until he was right behind her.
“Morgan.”
“What?” She turned around only to find himright there, his much bigger body crowding her personal space. Then one hand was gripping her waist; the other cupping the back of her head as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
It wasn’t a kiss.
It was a possession.
The kiss lasted a minute. An hour. A month. Who the hell knew? When he finally released her and stepped back, she felt dizzy and weak in the knees and had to lean on the car to stay upright.
“Tag,” he said softly. “You’re it.”
Then he opened the door, helped her inside, and waited until she drove away.
28
PROVENANCE
PATRICK
Patrick’s lipscurled into a smile, reliving the moment the day before when he’d taken Morgan in his arms and kissed her. He’d caught her off guard. Her eyes had widened. Her lips had parted. For a moment, he’d worried he’d gone too far.
But she’d softened almost immediately. Fitted her body perfectly against his. Returned the kiss with equal fervor.
His body responded now like it had then. Hardening. Craving more.
But they weren’t there yet.
She was so in control all the time. Maybe—and this was just a theory at this point—she appreciated handing over the reins once in a while. Sometimes strong women appreciated not having to be strong all the time. At least, that was what Rileyhad told him once in a soul-baring moment after the guy she was seeing turned out to be a dick.