Free Sensuous Angel by Heather Graham Page A

was something that he had learned to live without her—with the aid of his faith. If he could help, it had to be the living whom he helped. But no matter what his faith, he was human. He wanted the murderer caught. He wanted his brother to lead a saner life. And, God help him, more than anything, he wanted Lorna Doria to live and come out of everything okay.
    Luke drew in a deep breath and continued. “This has cost you a great deal of personal happiness. It’s cost everyone…so much. Donna is a problem, but I think if it’s explained to her properly, she’ll accept it all and just lay low. The truth will be the best bet, Andrew. I don’t think she’d accept anything but. And if she nosed around elsewhere, you could be out of a good cover. The newspapers would hop all over the story.”
    “Yeah,” Andrew said thoughtfully. “I guess I’d better make the best possible impression.” He paused for a minute, then gazed at his brother again. “They want to see you down at headquarters again.”
    A pained expression passed quickly over Luke’s handsome features. “I’ve tried, Drew. You know that. I just come up with a blank wall.”
    “Different case—and I don’t need help on the other one. I know what’s going on. I just have to figure out how to prove it.” Andrew shook his head, as if to clear it from the problem that had long plagued his days and nights. “They need help bad on what they suspect to be a kidnapping. No clues except a scrap of cloth.”
    “Tell them I’ll be in on Monday,” Luke said.
    “They’ll appreciate it.”
    “Yeah. I think they’re afraid of me.”
    “No.” Andrew laughed. “Not you, Luke. They’re a bit in awe of you. You’re a priest, and I guess they really think you have a direct line to heavenly assistance.”
    “Great,” Luke muttered.
    “Hey, what difference does it make? You can help sometimes, and you know it.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    Andrew stood regretfully, looking back at the comfortable, well-padded Victorian chair. “I guess I’ll go haunt St. Patricks, then head downtown. Got another cigarette?”
    “Take the pack.”
    Andrew accepted it, grinning. “Poor Mom and Dad! They were hoping for a lawyer and a doctor and they got an overgrown hippie and a crazy guru.”
    “Speak for yourself!” Luke laughed. “My bishops would be horrified by your description of one of their priests!”
    Andrew chuckled again, then slipped silently out the window, the same way he had come. Luke stared after his brother a long while, then thoughtfully stripped down to the buff and crawled into bed.
    He didn’t sleep. He stared out the window to the garden beyond and watched the way the moonbeams created shadow and light. He hadn’t felt quite so restless in a long time.
    It was the girl, of course. He hadn’t felt quite so affected by a woman in a long, long time. Maybe never. When he was near her, all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her. He smiled in the darkness, fully aware that she felt the same tension drawing them together and that it horrified her.
    He rolled over suddenly, wondering why he had decided to trust her when it threw a new problem right in his brother’s lap. No, he’d had little choice. She might have gone elsewhere. And she might have wound up in all the wrong places at all the wrong time.
    It was strange. He had just met her, but she had already eased him somewhat. For the first time in months, he hadn’t thought about April, not until Andrew’s arrival. That was the way of things, he told himself wryly. Life went on for the living. Human nature. A time to mourn, a time to live again. A new love—not to replace the lost, but to exist strong and sure on its own.
    Luke laughed aloud and twisted around to lie comfortably on his pillow. Love! He’d just met her. But he was attracted. So attracted, he was almost afraid of being close. She’d really be shocked if a priest swept her into his arms, tossed her onto her bed, and made