But Krista Mackie hadn't been so lucky.
Every murder victim touched something inside Trey, but he'd learned over the years to shut off that part of him. He couldn't do his job if emotion distracted him. But knowing Krista was Marli's best friend and seeing the pain in Marli's face made him able to clearly imagine the last moments of Krista's life.
Guilt ate at him. Marli's friend would still be alive if he hadn't been wallowing in self-pity that night at the Pinto Club. He hadn't told Marli that part yet. He so did not want to tell her that part.
He sighed.
Marli stirred in the bed, and he glanced over at her. Her eyes flickered open. She looked so different without mascara on those gold eyelashes. Softer...vulnerable. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
"Hey," he said softly, "you're awake."
"Yeah." She pulled the covers up under her chin and stayed there.
He wondered if she was shy about getting out of bed with him there. "Do you want me to...uh...go out on the balcony?"
She stared at him blankly for a moment, then laughed. "God, no." She threw back the covers and swung her long, long legs over the side of the bed. She sat there, hands on the edge of the mattress, leaning forward. "How long have you been awake?"
"Couple of hours. Do you feel better?"
She nodded and pushed a hand through her hair, ruffling it in an attempt to smooth the tangled curls. She yawned and stood up.
He hadn't had a chance to fully appreciate her body last night, or this morning. She was all long, lean muscles under smooth skin, slim-waisted, full-breasted. His eyes were drawn helplessly to those sparkly jewels piercing her navel. When she walked toward the bathroom, the long muscles in her thighs flexed, and the view from behind as she walked away was just as outstanding. Tiny lace panties barely covered firm, rounded cheeks.
He gulped. He had to keep her here, but it could be problematic sharing a hotel room and keeping his hands off her.
She grabbed her bag as she went into the bathroom. He heard water running, the toilet flushing. Then she reappeared, still clad only in bra and panties. So much for shyness.
She sat back down on the bed and looked at him. "So? How long are you going to keep me here?"
"You're not a prisoner."
She laughed. "I'm kidding. Believe me, if I want to leave, I'll leave."
He had no doubt of that. She seemed to have recovered from the traumatic events of the previous day.
"It so happens I'm feeling in need of protection right now," she said lightly. "So I'm in no hurry to leave."
"Oh. Okay. Good."
"I am hungry, though."
Hell. He hadn't even thought about food. Now that she said it, though, he realized he was ravenous, too. He reached for the room service menu and handed it to her.
She opened it up and flipped the pages. "Waffles." She snapped it closed and handed it back to him. "Orange juice and coffee. Lots of coffee."
He grinned and picked up the phone. He added bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausages and toast for himself.
When he hung up, he looked back at her. "Uh...are you going to get dressed?"
She shot him a sultry smile. "Am I bothering you?"
His lips curved up in response. "Hell, yeah."
Her smile widened, but she stood up and searched the room for her clothes. "I put your stuff in the closet," he told her. She looked like a damn supermodel as she strode on those long legs to the closet. She pulled on the same yoga pants and tank top she'd been wearing when they arrived, leaving off the hoodie for now.
Somehow, even though she was dressed, it didn't help take his attention away from her. The tank hugged her breasts and left a strip of smooth flesh bare between its hem and the low-riding drawstring of the pants. Fortunately, room service provided a distraction by delivering their food.
He put away his laptop, and they spread their breakfast feast across the table, pulling up two chairs. Marli poured them each a cup of coffee from the thermos, adding cream and sugar to hers. She topped her waffle with all the whipped butter and then looked at his.
"What?" he asked.
"Are you going to use that butter?"
He looked down at his pancakes. "Yeah."
"Oh." She shrugged her slim shoulders, and, before he even knew he was doing it, he picked up the little container of butter and handed it over. She rewarded him with a radiant smile. He shook his head.
"I thought I had a big appetite," she said, indicating the plates full of food in front of him.
He laughed. "I lost some weight after...a while ago. I'm still trying to get back up to fighting weight."
She looked at him with frank appreciation. "You look good."
He flashed back to the night they'd met at Cactus Jack's. She'd said that then, too. That night, he hadn't been sure how to take that comment. Today, the warm admiration in her eyes left him no doubt.
Warmth spread from his chest downward. He ducked his head and started cutting his pancakes. When he looked up at her, she was smiling.
"Marli..."
"What?" She looked at him with innocent eyes and slowly put a piece of waffle into her mouth with her fork.
"Are you flirting with me?"
And just like that, her gaze shuttered. Shit. "What?" he asked, confused. "What did I say?"
She put down her knife and fork and stared at her plate. Then she looked back up at him, her lips firming, eyes clear. "Yes," she said. "I guess I was flirting with you. I'm sorry."
"Jesus, don't apologize! I'm not complaining. I just wanted to be clear...because, if you're flirting with me, you'd better be prepared for what might happen."
Chapter 8
"What might happen?" Her voice came out husky.
She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. He looked back at her, clearly debating how to answer. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough. "I might rip all your clothes off and fuck your brains out."
His reply shocked her, thrilled her, but she smiled, still watching him. "I might not mind that," she said softly.
Their eyes met and held across the table, sexual tension rising in her until she ached with need. Then he shook his head. "Finish your breakfast."
She kept smiling, but turned her attention back to her food. She was starving and it felt good to be hungry for a change. She, too, hadn't been eating much lately. Although, despite her appetite, she found she actually couldn't eat as much as she wanted to. She had to leave some of the huge Belgian waffle untouched. She sipped her coffee and watched Trey devour his own food.
When he'd cleaned every plate and leaned back in his chair, she grinned.
"Feel better?"
He smiled back at her. "Yeah. That was good."
"So, what's the plan now?"
Trey glanced at his watch. "I'm going to make a couple of calls, then I'm going to the FBI office in LA. You can wait here."
"Uh-uh. I'm not staying here alone."
"You'll be safe here." Although he didn't appear entirely convinced of that when he eyed the sliding glass door. They were only on the second floor, which was not difficult to access. "Okay, you can come with me."
"Can I have a shower first?"
"Sure. I wouldn't mind a shower, too."
She looked at him and she knew he could tell what she was thinking.
"Go," he said, pointing at the bathroom.
Grinning, she helped pile their dishes back onto the tray and tossed garbage into the wastebasket.
She showered and shampooed her hair, the hot water pummeling her body like a massage therapist, easing out tension and knots. She stayed under the spray for long moments, trying to let her stress swirl down the drain along with the foamy shampoo suds. She used the hotel hair dryer to dry her hair partially, but her curls dried better if she just left them alone. She'd packed so quickly she didn't have her anti-frizz serum with her, so she ran conditioner through her damp hair and hoped for the best.