Free State Secrets by Linda Lael Miller Page B

Holly,” David said watching her. “I’m a man, not a mystery to solve.”
    Holly said nothing. She couldn’t deny that he was a man, but the part about his not being a mystery was certainly open to debate.
    Lunch, eaten in a plant-filled restaurant overlooking Riverfront Park, the site of a world’s fair and Spokane’s coveted antique carousel, was a stilted affair.
    Holly was as annoyed as she was selfconscious. Hadn’t David said he wanted to talk to her? No, in fact, he’d said he needed to talk to her. So why didn’t he?
    His glass of white wine seemed to fascinate him; he turned it in one strong, sun-browned hand, watching the ebb and flow. The silence lengthened.
    “I thought you said we were going to talk!” Holly blurted out impatiently. What was it about this man that undid her so? She felt sure that it was more than her rising attraction to him, more even than her doubts about his motives for spending time with her.
    He chuckled and the sound was hollow and humorless. “You’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t you, Holly? Or, I should say, someone very close to you is. Why won’t you let me help you?”
    Holly bit her lower lip. She wasn’t about to make any admissions about Craig and her involvement in his many troubles, but she wanted to. She wanted to let everything pour out. “I don’t need any help and I’m not in trouble,” she said stubbornly when David’s indigo eyes impaled her with an unspoken challenge. “What gave you that idea?”
    He made an exasperated sound. “I’m not an idiot, Holly. I was there when this person called, whoever they are.”
    If Holly felt alarm, she also felt a paradoxical sort ofcomfort. Could it be that, for all her imaginings, David really didn’t know that her caller was Craig? “I think we should leave,” she said stiffly.
    “Fine,” David replied, setting his wineglass down with a jarring thump and rising from his chair to draw back Holly’s.
    The flesh on the back of her neck tingled as it was brushed briefly by the hard wall of his midsection. Even that small contact stirred the melting warmth deep in Holly’s middle and made her heart beat at a faster pace.
    She was still shivering when they reached his car.
    “Take me home, please,” she said, struggling not to fling herself into his arms like some helpless bit of fluff and sob out all the things that were tormenting her.
    “Don’t worry,” he replied in a terse whisper.
    But, at the house, he lingered. Against her better judgment, Holly invited him inside for coffee. Just passing through the living room, where they had so nearly made love the night Craig called and ruined everything, made Holly’s face burn.
    She was grateful to reach the cookbook-cluttered, sensible kitchen. What could happen here?
    Too late, Holly remembered the first soul-jarring kiss. That was what could happen here.
    She busied herself with the coffeemaker, filling the decanter with cold water, putting a new filter and fresh grounds into the basket. She was so very much on guard that her shoulders ached.
    “Holly.”
    She stiffened as she felt David approach, but could not bring herself to turn around and face him. His hands closedover her shoulders and began gently working the taut muscles there.
    “Scary, isn’t it?” he asked in a low voice, his breath brushing Holly’s ear and part of her cheek.
    “Wh-what?” Holly hedged. She knew she should break out of David’s hold, but she didn’t have the spirit to do that. Besides, the massage he was giving her felt so good.
    “The way we need each other.”
    Holly lifted her chin, barely able to keep from letting her head roll as the muscles in her shoulders were forced to relax. “I don’t want to need anybody,” she managed to say.
    “Neither do I,” came the prompt, gruff reply. “But there it is.”
    He was close, the length of his body comfortingly hard and strong against Holly. Suddenly his hands stopped working her shoulders to cup her breasts with