Always a Suspect by Susan Vaughan

Author:Susan Vaughan [Vaughan, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Contemporary, Love, Murder, Mystery, Romance, Romantic Suspense, Thriller, Maine, Crime, Susan Vaughan, Series
Publisher: Susan Vaughan
Published: 2015-10-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Later that evening, Michael sliced tomatoes for their salad. Fresh vegetables didn’t last long on his winter camping trips, so while in civilization, he found them essential. They were finally going to eat the Yule log cake and that mouthwatering pork pie she’d made for Christmas Eve.

He’d never felt this way, had never wanted just to hold and be held like that. She’d revealed the reasons for her inexperience. Farnsworth and Santerre hadn’t looked past the beautiful facade to the beautiful inside. They were fools. She was a passionate and enthusiastic lover.

If it hadn’t been for the animals, they would have made love until neither one could move. But Alley’s pitiful whine reminded them the dog needed to go out and the kitten needed food.

Even though it was Christmas, that morning Michael had driven to MCU to fill out a report on the attack and to check on the bomb analysis. Results could have taken days, even weeks, but they’d gotten lucky. Most of it he could share with Claire, but for now he wanted only the pleasure of her company.

For him, for this day, she abandoned her widow’s weeds in favor of a clingy pink sweater. The way her black leggings displayed her legs, he didn’t even mind their color. In the afterglow of sex, she appeared even more beautiful, her complexion luminous, her vibrant spirit free of defenses.

Claire reached around him to snatch a carrot strip. He grabbed her hand and kissed it before pulling her into his arms for a more thorough embrace. Heat licked through him from every pulse point, from every touch of skin. His need for her was insatiable, like an all-consuming wildfire.

“All this for stealing a carrot? In that case I may turn to a life of crime.”

Too close to the truth for him to laugh, but her sly smile tempted him to drag her upstairs again.

“I know it’s not funny.” She trailed her index finger across his furrowed brow. “But these days, gallows humor is all I have.”

He did laugh then before releasing her.

She was arranging their dinner on a tray. “Before we eat, tell me what you learned this morning. I don’t want my Christmas dinner spoiled with detecting.” She folded each napkin precisely around the silverware.

“All right.” He leaned against the counter. “The explosive was RDX, a volatile and tricky plastique only a professional could use.”

“And that takes the hook off me?”

“To Pratt’s regret, yes, it lets you off the hook.” He grinned. “A sensor under a mat was hooked to a timer, set for probably two or three minutes. It started the countdown as soon as someone stepped aboard.”

“You triggered it.”

“And your arrival saved me.” He reached for her.

“Oh, no,” she retorted, backing away. “You will distract me. Tell me everything first. Who planted the bomb?”

“MCU may be on the trail. Early yesterday morning, a man gained access to the Rêve by showing the boatyard owner a fake MCU badge. From the description, it sounds like a known hit man.

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