Free Her Last Chance by Toni Anderson Page B

look
after yourself?”
    “I’m hungry, you idiot.” Angry at
being so unfairly judged lit a fuse within her. “And I know how to look after
myself.” She planted her finger on his chest. “I’ve had plenty of practice
looking after myself and aside from this stupid freaking serial killer on my
tail, I do a pretty good job of it.”
    People streamed around them in the
street. Marsh swept a pitying glance over her frame, from her Doc Marten boots
to her favorite army jacket. She glared back, wanting to cross her arms over
her chest, but knowing that would put her on the defensive rather than the
attack.
    “You’re too damn thin. I could push
you over with one finger.” He copied her move and stuck his index finger in her
sternum, between her breasts.
    The world stopped. Time hovered.
The people rushing past them ceasing to exist. There was nothing but the heat
in his eyes and the energy that sizzled and circled between the points of
contact of each finger on each chest, round and round, firing sparks through
her heart and breasts, making her breath squeeze tight into a tiny ball.
    Suddenly it was the flat of her
hand against his white cotton shirt as if holding him off—but she wasn’t and he
knew it. He dropped his hand slowly away from her.
    Speechless for once in her life,
she finally let her hand drop away.
    “Come on, woman.” He took her elbow
gently and steered her down the sidewalk. “Let’s get some food.”
     
    ***
     
    They settled on a
small Irish pub. Marsh ordered a steak sandwich. Josephine ordered beef pie,
French fries and orange juice.
    Marsh sipped water as they sat in
silence. That pulse of desire that had rushed them on the street rattled him.
Six months ago, he’d let her get way too close and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get
over it. Lust for her had clouded his judgment, affected his thinking and made
him break the law. Not to mention nearly gotten his agent killed. Right now, he
couldn’t afford distraction, because this time it would be Josephine who wound
up dead.
    A huge mountain of food arrived in
front of them and they both dug in. No way was she going to be able to eat all
that. First she smothered the fries in vinegar, then ketchup, and she started
eating like she was ravenous. One French fry after another disappeared between
those delicate lips. She licked salt off with a darting pink tongue.
    She looked up. “What?”
    Marsh shook his head and stared at
the rapidly disappearing food. “I hope you’re not doing that to impress me.”
    “I’m starving.” Wiping a napkin
over her mouth, she paused. “And you know I rarely do anything to impress
anyone.”
    “Except Marion?” He watched her
reaction.
    The fork paused in midair, and she
went completely still. “I’d have done anything for Marion” she admitted.
    “What happened to your real mother,
Josephine?”
    Pain was buried beneath the angry
look she threw him and he immediately regretted pushing her when she put down
the fork and stopped eating. The woman needed building up. She was thinner than
she had been in the spring. Couldn’t afford to drop another pound.
    He didn’t understand why she
attracted him so much. She was too skinny and had issues the size of the Empire
State Building. The pulse above her collarbone fluttered delicately as she
shrugged and he wanted to kiss her there.
    “She took off.” Her eyes flicked
right, which would have been great except Marsh knew she was left-handed and the
physical clues for lying usually got twisted around.
    So why lie?
    “How old were you when she left?”
He watched her lips pucker as she thought about his question.
    “Nine.”
    Same age as when she’d been knifed.
    “So what? Your mother abandoned you
just after some psycho attacked you?” What kind of woman did that?
    Silver blonde hair fell around her
face as she shook her head. She picked up the fork again and stabbed a piece of
beef out of the rich fragrant gravy.
    “She left before that.” She put