Free The Alibi by Sandra Brown Page B

you
    may think about me, I want you to know that... that
    this isn't something I do casually or routinely."
     
    Softly he said, "It doesn't matter."
     
    She looked at him then, turning only her head. "It
    matters to me. It matters to me that you know that."
     
    Moving carefully, he rested his hands on her
    shoulders and brought her around to face him. "Do
    you honestly think it was just a ride on the Ferris
    wheel that brought us to this?"
     
    As though to keep her lower lip from trembling,
    she pulled it through her teeth and shook her head no.
     
    Placing his arms around her, he drew her close and
    hugged her. Just that. And he held her for a long time,
    with his cheek resting on the crown of her head, toes
    touching, sharing body heat. Barefoot, swaddled in
    his T-shirt, she seemed smaller and daintier than before.
    Embracing her like this made him feel virile and
    protective. In fact, since meeting her, he had felt like
    goddamn Conan.
     
    He chuckled at the thought. She raised her head
    from his chest and looked up at him. "What?"
     
    "Nothing. Just thinking how good you make me
    feel." Then his smile was replaced by a worried
    frown. "What about you? Are you all right?"
     
    She tilted her head in puzzlement. "Yes."
     
    "I mean . . . with . . . you know."
     
    "Oh." Her gaze dropped to his Adam's apple.
    "Yes. Thank you for doing the responsible thing."
     
    He kept a box of condoms in the nightstand
    drawer. But never had one been so difficult to open
    and put on. Embarrassed now by his clumsy
    wrestling match with the stubborn thing, at a time
    when he had wanted to be at his suavest, he muttered,
    "In the nick of time."
     
    Surprising him, she rested her hands on his chest
    and stroked it lightly. Hardly above a whisper, she
    said, "For me, too."
     
    Desire was manifested in a low moan as he cupped
    her chin in his hand and tilted her head back for his
    kiss. Passions sparked again. Ignited. Burned. Hotter
    than before.
     
    The whispers intensified the intimacy.
     
    "You like this."
     
    "Yes."
     
    "Too hard?"
     
    "No."
     
    "I didn't realize."
     
    "Neither did I."
     
    "I'm sorry."
     
    "It didn't matter."
     
    "But if I hurt you--"
    "You didn't. You won't."
    "Do you mind if..."
    "No."
    "Jesus. Look at you. Beautiful. You're already--'
    "Yes."
    "So--"
    "Oh..."
    "Wet."
    "I'm sorry, sorry."
    "Sorry?"
    "Well, I mean ... you ..."
    "Don't be sorry."
    "Let me touch you."
    "No, let me touch you."
    CHAPTER
    7
     
    with steffi driving, she and smilow reached
    Roper Hospital in record time.
    "How many did they say?" she asked as they
    jogged across the emergency room parking lot toward
    the building. She had missed the details when
    she left the hotel conference room to retrieve her car.
    She had picked up Smilow at the main entrance to
    Charles Towne Plaza.
    "Sixteen. Seven adults, nine children. They belong
    to a touring church choir from Macon, Georgia. They
    ate lunch early in the hotel restaurant before setting
    out on an afternoon walking tour of downtown. They
    returned a couple hours later, after the kids began getting
    sick."
    "Stomach cramps? Vomiting? Diarrhea?"
    "All of the above."
    "You don't forget food poisoning if you've ever
    had it. I did once. Cream of mushroom soup from a
    reputable deli."
    "They traced this back to a marinara meat sauce
    that was used on the pizza the kids ate. It was also on
    the pasta special."
    Almost at a run, they entered the hospital emergency room. For a Saturday night, the waiting room
    was relatively calm, but there were a few patients. A
    uniformed cop was guarding a man in handcuffs. The
    man had a bloody bath towel wrapped around his
    head like a turban. His eyes were closed and he was
    moaning, while his wife provided laconic answers to
    a nurse's standard questions regarding medical history.
    A young mother and father were trying in vain
    to pacify their crying infant. An elderly man was sitting
    alone, sobbing into a handkerchief for no apparent
    reason. A