Free Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) by Melody S. Monroe Page B

year of her marriage to Carlton had been as lifeless as Travis Simmons’ dead body.
    After a moment of rest, she got up and sorted through her purchases to decide what to wear. Whether she looked presentable or not shouldn’t matter, but somehow her appearance had become important to her. She hadn’t minded wearing a baggy sweatshirt and equally ill fitting pants back at the town house, so what had changed? The day at the beach? The hamburger he’d gone out of his way to bring her? Nothing about his relationship with Peter Caravello had been different, so should she trust him because he’d saved her life?
    She refused to address her own internal dialogue and went back to organizing her clothing. Ten minutes later, Stone stepped out of the bathroom and all thoughts of what to wear disappeared. Did he clean up nice or what? He was dressed in tight jeans and a body-fitting T-shirt. Her first reaction was that he’d make a great cover model, and she blinked to clear her head.
    Her eyes told her to trust him, but the lawyer in her said to hold back judgment a little longer. She suspected something inside her might snap if she believed in Stone. She just might give into her desire to have his luscious body under her control. God knows she could use a good time in bed to take her mind off her problems.
    “Next.”
    He had the nerve to smile, as if he could read her mind. She wasn’t staring that hard, was she?
    Head held high, she picked up what she needed and brushed past him into the steamy bathroom. A hint of mint and lemon mixed with the steam sent her thoughts in the absolute wrong direction. He’d been naked in here. Wet and naked. A big, fluffy towel lay wadded on the floor. For a brief moment she was tempted to pick it up and smell his scent, but the sane side of her said to undress before she got herself more confused.
    She made sure to lock the door. The last thing she needed was for Stone to accidentally on purpose come looking for something he theoretically left in the bathroom, and she’d be completely undressed with soap clinging to her breasts and between her thighs. She’d never been tempted to play with herself sexually until she’d laid eyes on Mr. Eye Candy himself.
    Move. Getting out of the stinky clothes was wonderful, but the sensation didn’t compare to the hot shower. While she wanted to spend an hour in the bathroom, they couldn’t afford to stay in one place long. She washed her hair as quickly as the pain allowed and dressed in record time.
    As she stepped out of the bathroom, Stone had his feet on the small table, his arms across his chest and a smile of his face. Without a brush to pull through her wet tangled hair, she must look like Methuselah.
    His eyes widened. “Nice.”
    She couldn’t tell if his comment was sarcastic or not, so she let it slide. “Thanks. Can we go now?”
    He jumped up. “Sure. You’re the boss.”
    “As if you believe any part of that statement.”
    “But I do.”
    He picked up her suitcase, along with his duffel and held open the door. As was his usual procedure, he scanned the parking lot while she got in the car. The man did take his job seriously.
    He backed out of the parking space. “While you were in the shower, I called T-Squared.”
    “Who?”
    “Tom Traynor, or T-Squared for short. We work together.”
    She appreciated he didn’t keep this phone call a secret. “Because?”
    “I had asked him to get the names and addresses of the remaining jurors, which he delivered. Turns out only three are on the east coast.”
    “You still think it’s a good idea to warn them? The Bureau might not appreciate the interference.” She needed Stone safe, too.
    “I don’t have a choice.” His jaw clenched. Never a good sign.
    An ache rippled up her spine. “Can’t the Bureau assign each of them a bodyguard?”
    “Contrary to popular belief, we don’t have unlimited resources. I already asked.”
      “If I hadn’t been injured, would I have been on