Free Saving Grace by Elle Wylder

complicated, I move on. Somehow Walker maneuvered around
my defenses. He got under my skin and in my heart before I could stop him.
    And now...now I have a much more serious problem. Problems.
Plural. First there is the matter of Walker’s violent past. I’m not quite sure
how I feel about that. I’d sensed it, suspected it and had that confirmed in my
nice, not so tidy office in Atlanta. I thought it wasn’t a big deal, it’s
something I can deal with. But here, facing him I am a little scared at a
completely primitive level. I don’t think I’m in any danger from him, but I
can’t help that little kernel of fear. The fear makes me angry with myself.
Haven’t I come farther than this?
    What really pisses me off though, is being kept in the dark
about this secret past of his. He had the perfect opportunity to come clean
during our last argument—he didn’t. It’s stupid to feel hurt over that. I’m the
one always insisting on keeping things impersonal, on not exchanging past
information and secrets. I refuse to acknowledge the change has anything to do
with how I feel about him and insist to myself it is all about the current
situation. This is information I need for my own safety not to mention solving
the murder.
    My anger includes my cousin, too. I’ve talked to Honor and
Lynn, managed to talk them into staying here rather than visiting me in
Birmingham or Atlanta. I’ll let them know I’m here tomorrow. I have so many
unanswered questions.
    Lynn never discusses Walker’s past, and she has to know
more. They are both mentioned in the police file—Lynn as the first officer on
the scene, Walker as a suspect in Hugo’s murder. Of course, Lynn doesn’t have a
clue that I was hired to investigate the murder, but as family, she could have
given me some kind of warning about what kind of man I’m sleeping with. I know
about the fights. I suspect a lot more. But a murder suspect? I’m certain Lynn
would tell me if she thought Walker is a danger to me, but still a heads up
would have been nice.
    And then there is the case. What should be an objective, dry
investigation into an old murder is anything but. My cousin was the responding
officer, my lover was a suspect and now someone is trying to kill me or at
least scare me off.
    “Hey, you still with me here?”
    Walker’s deep, mellow voice shakes me out of my thoughts,
his arms slide around my waist and he pulls me close. Overcome with
emotions--fear, anger, confusion, love--I lay my head against his chest and
listen to the rapid pounding of his heart while trying to get a grip on mine.
At least he isn’t as unaffected as he appears. I push my hands into his back
pockets and take a deep breath, enjoying the comforting feel of him. I swing so
wildly from one extreme to the other with Walker--lust to irritation to fear to
comfort. My own slice of insanity. I take a deep breath. There are more serious
things to worry about right now.
    “I need to find out who killed Hugo,” I say said softly,
turning my face into Walker’s chest and rubbing my nose against the scratchy
material of his shirt.
    “Later,” he murmurs.
    As usual when in such close proximity, no matter how angry I
am, my body rushes to respond to him. My nipples tighten, my pussy creams and
clenches, and I shift closer, pushing my pelvis against him. He sucks in a
ragged breath when I brush against his cock, already engorged and hard. He
moves one arm to circle my shoulders while he grips the back of my neck with
his other hand. Tilting my head back, he meets my gaze.
    His eyes are hot and needy and I feel a feminine thrill wind
through me. I know that look. He wants to fuck me, long and hard and half the
night. That works for me. I need the release. I need the contact, need to feel
connected to another person. No, not just any person. Walker. I need Walker.
Shit. I’m in trouble, but with my breasts aching for his touch and my cunt
practically begging to be possessed, I can’t dredge up much