Secretly Craving You(26)

"Okay." Nick turned on the black flashlight. "I'm going out first." He pulled a large stainless steel pistol from the back waist of his jeans.

A renewed surge of icy fear rushed over her.

"Stay back until I tell you it's safe," he said.

She swallowed hard and nodded. What if she caused Nick to step out into the sights of some deranged killer? "Be careful." She briefly touched his warm, bronzed skin and the Celtic symbols tattooed on his upper arm.

He sent an intense glance back at her. "Right. Stay down." He slipped out the door, crouching low. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

He directed the flashlight and gun around the walled courtyard garden, then checked behind two yew shrubs.

"All clear." He motioned her out with his head. She found his tough guy, cop actions pretty hot.

Carrying the spade, she moved toward a corner flowerbed. "I think it was right here. Damn, I'll have to dig up my begonias."

She placed the spade point into the ground and, with her foot, shoved it beneath a big plant and lifted it from the ground, then did a second one. Once these were out of the way, she started digging a hole.

Nick removed the beam of light from where she was working and directed it around through the darkness, along the house, toward the street. A gate there allowed views into the garden.

"Do you leave the gate unlocked?"

She glanced at it, seeing that it was closed. "No, but there's an easy trick to opening it. Which, by the way, Jared knew about." She breathed hard from the exertion.

Nick shined the light on her. "Do you want me to dig?" His voice sounded deep and intimate in this spooky gloom.

"No, I don't mind. It shouldn't be too deep and the dirt is soft. Besides you have to watch for the nut-job." Exercise would probably be good for her, though she'd need another shower afterward. It was a muggy night. She doubted the temperature was much below eighty.

The point of the spade thumped against something hard. She would say it was a rock, but there was no clang. She placed the tool under the object and pried it out.

"What is this?" she whispered, bending to pick it up. Something wrapped in a small towel. She unrolled the object within. An oblong stone in a plastic bag fell into her palm. "Bingo."





Chapter Eight


"That's it," Nick said, eying the phallic shaped object in Emily's hand. "Come on. Bring it inside." He glanced around, making sure the killer wasn't lurking somewhere, beyond the reach of the lights. He pushed her toward the back door and inside. Her safety was his primary concern.

Emily's hands were covered in black soil as was the gallon sized plastic bag containing the object. She turned on the tap in the laundry sink and washed off the dirt. "It appears to be a marble…penis. Just as that psycho said."

"Don't remove it from the bag. It could have fingerprints on it," Nick said.

She nodded and held it closer to the counter light. "Why would Jared bury it there? Surely a bank vault would be a safer place for this." She stroked a thumb over it, up along the shaft and over the head. She gasped.

"What?" Nick asked.

"Nothing. It just appears so detailed."

Nick grunted, glad the impending groan didn't emerge. She looked so hot touching that marble penis. And he was insane for thinking such a thing was hot.

"How old do you think it is?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Let's go do some research in my room." She bolted out of the laundry room and toward the stairway.

"Research?" What kind of research could they do in her bedroom? His mind went crazy with the possibilities. After checking to be sure the backdoor was locked, he followed her upstairs and found her sitting on the bed, typing on her laptop.

He slid onto the high bed beside her, trying to ignore the fact this was her bed, where she slept every night. Did she ever sleep naked? A rush of arousal surged through him.

Dammit, he'd only had an orgasm about fifteen minutes ago in the shower. What was with his powered-up libido? He couldn't help it. This bed easily brought back memories of what he'd done to her that morning—stroking her until she'd cried out in pleasure. He almost moaned, but cleared his throat instead.

Emily pointed to the laptop screen. "Here's a picture of a similar marble phallus. It says it was used in ancient fertility rituals. The penis was an important symbol to ancient cultures."

"Hmph." Every time she said penis or phallus, his own grew harder despite the dangerous situation. He leaned back, trying to alleviate some of the pressure in his jeans.

"There are huge phalluses all over Great Britain."

He snorted. No wonder he couldn't concentrate on the important things. He'd blame it on her. "I'm sure British men would be flattered to hear you say that."