“No. Did I hurt you?”
She pretended to solemnly consider the question. “I think I felt a twinge in my shoulder the third time, but it went away quickly. Or maybe I was just distracted.” Her teeth sank playfully into his shoulder. “Gee, did I hurt you?”
“No, you aroused me. Want to go again?”
“Soon.” She nestled closer. “Lord, you have stamina. I need a little break.”
“Okay.” He sat up in bed. “I'll go get my sketch pad.”
“Don't you dare.” She jerked him back down. “I'm not about to pose nude.”
“Just your face,” he whispered. He kissed her. “I want to remember your face like this. You . . . glow.”
She swallowed to ease the sudden tightness of her throat. “Yeah, sure, and someday when I least expect it, I'll find myself in a gallery window.”
“No. If I did a nude of you it would be just for me. I'm feeling very possessive.” He kissed the hollow of her throat. “Just your face . . .”
“Maybe later.” She pulled his head down to her breasts. “Suddenly, I'm not feeling tired anymore. . . .”
8
Fairfax, Texas
If he was supposed to look for something unusual at this factory, then the trip was a washout.
Scott moved quietly down the hall, pausing for a moment to glance into the labs as he passed. No chemicals. Lots of electronic gadgetry. Charts . . .
He went into one of the labs and checked a chart. Nothing definitive. No names or places, just numbers, graphs, and percentages. No wonder they had been left behind when the plant had been closed down. They told absolutely nothing. Galen was going to be disappointed.
He dialed Galen's number. “No luck. No chemicals. A lot of electronic gadgets, a few graphs that tell nada.”
“Have you covered the entire factory?”
“First and second floors.” He opened the door and started down the stairs. “I'm going down to the basement now.”
“What about the night watchman?”
“No sign of him. I'm keeping a lookout, but so far I can't see why they'd need one.” He reached the landing and started down the second flight. “Long flights of stairs. Deep basement . . .”
“Were there any notes or papers in the desks?”
“Clean as a whistle. The drawers looked like they'd been cleaned by a Shop-Vac.” He'd reached the door and tried it. “Hold on. The basement door's locked. I've got to open it.”
He got out his skeleton keys and patiently tried a dozen before one opened the door. “Got it.” He swung the door open. “Now, let's see—dammit.” He jumped back into the stairwell. “I almost fell in.”
“Fell in where?”
“I don't know. I just felt myself going.” He shone the flashlight into the darkness of the basement. “Holy shit.”
“Talk.”
“It's weird. There's no floor. The basement is huge. It probably runs under the plant and the grounds around it. It's just dirt and holes, deep holes that seem to go clear to China.” He shone the light around the walls. “That's all there is here. Just dirt and those holes. I'd say this qualifies as unusual. I'll take a couple pictures and you can see for your—”
Hot pain exploded inside him. “Christ!”
He should have watched his back. Only amateurs . . . He should have . . .
Alex rubbed her cheek back and forth in the hollow of his shoulder. “Who's Runne?”
Morgan went tense. “What?”
“He must be someone pretty important to you to make you talk in your sleep.”
His muscles relaxed. “Is that where you heard the name?”
“Where else?”
“Runne sometimes seems to be omnipresent.” He kissed the top of her head. “He's just someone I used to know.”
“Which means you're not going to tell me.”
“Maybe someday. It's an ugly story and I'm not about to spoil a good thing when I've got it.” His hand covered her breast. “And it's a very good thing.”
Yes, it was. She had never had it this strong or hot or sweet. Full of stormy power and tension . . . and tenderness. She had never imagined Morgan as tender, but she had learned gossamer gentleness always followed the storm. “I . . . liked it.”
He chuckled. “You loved it. You just want to keep me in my place.”
“And what is your place? Every time I turn around you keep moving and expanding the territory.”
“But it's such intriguing territory.” He brushed his lips over her nipple. “And you certainly didn't object to my moving a little while—” His phone rang on the bedside table. “Shit. Galen better not just be telling us he has nothing to tell us.” He flipped on the phone. “What is it, Galen?”