He hauled her against him with one final thrust. “My God, you’re sexy as hell.”
She moaned in exhaustion, and he lowered himself onto her, his body a warm blanket. He kissed her neck before lifting up and off her. “You’ve a great ass. Sweet.” His lips were warm as he brushed them against the side of her bottom.
Her body was lead. She pushed off the desk and pulled her skirt down. He had already zipped his trousers and was tucking in his shirt. As he straightened his tie, she walked to the mini-bar.
“Water?” She lifted up a bottle.
He nodded, and she returned with two. She uncapped and tilted her bottle, tapping his. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Maxwell.” She leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. “So exactly what does this mean?” She’d like more, like to ask about the chance of continuing to get to know each other, but expected him to go back to business as usual, dismiss this union , and discuss the complaint.
He sunk into the chair. He rubbed his forehead and leaned his head back. He was still breathing heavy.
“Truthfully, there wasn’t a complaint filed. I wanted to meet you and thought we might go out for drinks or dinner if I came down here on a ruse. Any chance of that happening?”
She giggled but had enough sense not to admit she’d done the same thing for weeks.
“Thornton, you know romance and seduction go hand in hand. Just because we enjoyed desert first doesn’t mean we can’t sample the other menu items.”
His wicked smile returned. “And now I’m all the hungrier. How about a main course later?”
“My schedule is open. Say eight o’clock?”
He stood up and his eyes burned with a devilish gleam. “But next time I tell you not to come, you’d better mind me.” He got up and pulled her to him. He slammed his mouth down on her lips. He toyed her tongue with his, kissing her until she clung to his shoulders.
She regained her breath. “If you have any more questions, you know where you can find me.”
He released her. “Eight sharp.” He patted her bottom.
She winked and winced a little as she took her seat, and then she returned back to the slush pile.
Chapter Two
Claire blinked. Her cell phone rang, breaking her concentration. It was early Sunday morning. She didn’t recognize the telephone number displayed, although the area code was from her hometown back in North Carolina.
“Hello?” Claire’s mind lingered somewhere in her story.
“Miss Robertson?” It was an unfamiliar voice.
“Yes, this is Claire Robertson.” She stood and stretched. She rotated her neck from side to side.
“Claire, this is Bob Chase. We went to school together.”
“Yes…Bob. I remember you. How’s it going?”
“Claire, I’m well. But I’m not calling about me.” He paused. Something in his tone made her ears prick. Her journalism skills were honed to focus upon rises and dips in voice modulation. This pattern said something serious—something bad. She shivered.
“I wish there was an easier way. Claire, your parents were killed today. I’m very sorry.”
“God, no. Please. What happened?” Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor.
“There was an accident. While they were coming back from church. They didn’t suffer. I’m sorry. I phoned you as soon as the sheriff called me.”
He was mistaken and now she had to tell him. This was some terrible error. “I think you’ve got the wrong Claire. I don’t understand. Why were you notified?”
“I represented them on some issues, including drawing up their will. You know how small Mill Spring is…Curtiss Howard was the responding officer. He was a year ahead of us in school. A friend of—”
She cut him off. “Yes. I remember him.” Claire grasped at memories of school, of home, of her mom and dad. She closed her eyes.
Time, the kitchen table, and this conversation receded. A faint buzzing grew louder inside her head. Fleeting thoughts. She didn’t know. Had she heard him correctly? Slowly, her brain made room for this news.
“What should I do? I mean now?” Claire looked out the window, the city lights twinkled against the early morning sky. Inside, she felt numb. Her mind didn’t want to hear anymore.
“Everything’s being taken care of. They were taken to Mill Spring Medical Center. Don’t worry about trying to make plans, most of it has already been decided. I’ll just need to go over their wishes with you and your sister.”
Claire rested her head against her palm. She rubbed her brow, trying to make sense of this moment. She’d just spoken to her mom and dad. She could hear their voices, her mother’s questions, her father’s advice. They couldn’t be gone.