Page 70 of Healing the Heart

Sure enough, the check arrived before 10 a.m. the following morning. By that afternoon, she had an agency scheduled to come out and give her an estimate for her crime scene cleanup. They tacked on an additional biohazard charge when in the prescreening call, she had to answer yes to the question, “Does the scene contain chemical or biological toxins?”

Ew! Just thinking of someone maliciously doing that on her bed made her sick.

Within two weeks, the agency had the apartment cleaned, all the broken furniture removed, including the DNA-laden mattress, and the walls painted. But Noah didn’t release her to go home. His security made his place far safer for her to live in.

So, she continued to sleep in Noah’s bed every night and wake in his arms every morning. A fact she wasn’t about to complain about.

While Fiona worked with her kids close to fifty hours per week under the watchful eye of a Rossi Security specialist, Noahkept busy with consultations at the hospital for his group. If, coincidentally, he was around at noon when she took her break, they had lunch together. The rest of the time he wasn’t with her, he helped with the investigation, which had stalled.

At quitting time every day, when her bodyguard du jour handed her off like a baton in a relay race, she’d look at him expectantly and ask the same question, “Any news?”

He’d shake his head, a muscle jumping in his cheek the only outward sign of his frustration, but she knew it was there because she felt it too.

“Maybe he’s moved on to his next con with someone else’s identity,” Fiona suggested during the first week.

“Mmm, maybe...” he echoed, not sounding convincing.

While Noah worried, Fiona fully embraced her new life with him, finding it a little taste of heaven. For the first time since she was seventeen, she had someone to come home to. She slept in his arms every night and woke to his kisses every morning—so much better than a cat. They had breakfast and dinner together and actually talked while they ate. And they went to the club two nights a week.

They might have gone more often, but her late shifts twice a week made for long days. When she came home and yawned through dinner, Noah would tuck her in bed directly after. If she made it through the meal without falling asleep in her plate, they would cozy up on his big comfortable couch to watch TV. But the moment she stopped moving, her eyes would grow heavy, and she was out. When she woke in bed the next morning, it was without memory of how she got there, but she suspected Noah carried her. It was so romantic, and she hated she missed it.

One night, when she woke past midnight needing to use the bathroom, she found his side of the bed empty and cold. She went looking for him and found him in his office.

A single floorboard creaked as she stopped in the doorway. Noah glanced up from his laptop, his eyes meeting hers. “Kitten. Did I wake you?”

“No. Something else did. What about you? Couldn’t you sleep?”

“I don’t need much; four or five hours seems to be enough. It’s not healthy, but that’s how it’s been all my life.”

She yawned, unable to help it. “If I don’t get a full eight, I’m practically nonfunctional.”

“I remember when you went two days without sleep. You were so woozy, you couldn’t think straight.” He rolled back from his desk and beckoned her over with the crook of his finger. “Come here.”

Fiona approached slowly, glancing at the notes and files scattered over his desk. “You were working and I’m disturbing you.”

When she was close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. Leaning her back over one arm, his free hand slid up her leg and under the hem of her short nightgown.

“You should be.”

She blinked in surprise. “What?”

He grinned. “You apologized for disturbing me, remember?”

“Oh... Well... That’s what people say when they’re trying to be polite.”

“Your presence disturbs me.” He bent close, buried his face in the bend of her neck, and inhaled deeply. “And your scent drives me wild. What is it?”

“Vanilla-lavender aromatherapy body wash.” She gasped as he nibbled her throat. “It’s supposed to be relaxing.”

“False advertising,” he groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair and breathing it in. “Your hair smells like it, too.”

“It came in a gift set.”

His head came up. “Since you disturbed me, it’s only fair that I return the favor, but I don’t plan on being polite.”

Sliding his hand farther up her nightie, he hooked her panties and pulled them down then lifted her and plopped her bare butt on the edge of his desk. “Lean back, heels to ass, and spread your knees wide.”

He made a few adjustments, pressing her legs down to the surface of the desk, which opened her pussy. The AC in the room wafted cool over her hot, wet skin.

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