She listened carefully, and when he was finished, she told him not to worry, that she would come up with a new, even better
plan. "But something less complicated this time," she promised. Then in a voice that sounded like a dove cooing, she said,
"I miss you, darling."
"I'll see you soon?"
"Of course."
"I love you."
She smiled again. "Yes. I know."
She disconnected the call, dropped her towel, and went into the bathroom to shower. Wrapping herself in a terry-cloth robe,
he called housekeeping to come and clean up the mess she'd made. The cost of the damage would be put on her credit card.
Two hours later, when Monk walked into the room, she was ready for him. She wore a black chiffon dress and high heels, but
had decided against undergarments. When she stood in the doorway with the light spilling out from the bedroom, she knew he could see through the filmy material. She'd checked to make sure.
Monk was weary by the time he got there, but as soon as he saw the love of his life, he was rejuvenated. He knew the trouble she'd gone to just to please him. She had instinctively known he would need to make love to her and had prepared the bedroom. There were candles burning to set the mood, and she was wearing his favorite dress. It was identical to the red one she used to have, until he'd torn it. As he strode toward her, he told himself not to ruin this one.
He watched her mouth. She was slowly rubbing her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. She knew he liked that too.
Their lovemaking was wild and crude. Like animals in heat, they tore at each other. Her dress fell to the floor in tatters.
And when he was finally satisfied, he rolled off her, threw his arm back, and closed his eyes.
She had pleased him, and now it was his turn to please her. "I think we should wait a couple of days," Jilly said, "and then, after you're rested, you can take care of Carrie and the judge. They'll be all settled in and feeling safe by then. Don't you agree? It shouldn't be too difficult for you to get in and do what needs to be done."
"I need at least two weeks to organize and plan."
"Did I just make you happy, Monk?"
"You know you did, darling."
"Then make me happy. I could wait maybe a week, but I'd go crazy if I had to wait any longer. Carrie was smiling when they lifted her into the ambulance. I didn't like seeing her smile."
"I understand."
"She told the police about me. Now they know I'm alive, and they'll be looking for me. You were right," she whispered.
"I shouldn't have insisted on the letters, and I shouldn't have let her see me. But I thought she would die in the explosion, and
I wanted her to know…"
"Don't cry, Jilly," he said as he took her in his arms. "It's going to be all right."
"Yes," she said, cuddling up against him. "As soon as she's dead, everything will be all right. She's made me so unhappy for such
a long time. Promise me you'll kill her soon."
"I promise," he answered. "You know I'll do anything for you."
She smiled against his neck. Her hands moved skillfully over his body. "Then we'll go to Sheldon Beach."
Monk's desperation to please her was making him frantic, but at the same time he felt he could do anything and succeed
because of her faith in him. She often told him how brilliant she thought he was and how he underestimated and undervalued himself. He realized now that she was right. He could pull it off. He could get in and out without being noticed, no matter how many FBI agents were there. He could even become invisible.
Chapter 35
The drive to Florida took three days. They could have pushed it, but because they had the time, they took the more scenic back roads through Georgia.
They spent two nights in clean but no-frills motels tucked away in small towns. The first night they each had their own room. Avery hadn't invited John Paul to share her bed, and he hadn't asked or assumed. She was desperately trying to distance herself from him because she believed it would make their final parting less painful, but it wasn't working. She was only fooling herself. She loved him and didn't know what to do about it. She didn't sleep at all that first night, tossed and turned until she made herself dizzy, and by morning, her disposition was as charming as a rhino's. The second night, John Paul didn't ask. He simply paid for two rooms while Noah talked to one of his superiors on his cell phone.
John Paul followed Avery into her room and dropped his bag next to hers. She didn't argue but said, "We're just going to sleep.
No sex."
Smiling, he stripped out of his clothes and headed for the shower. "Did I ask?" he said before shutting the door in her face.
The air conditioner in the window was cranked up, the room was freezing, and around two in the morning she woke up in his
arms, feeling toasty warm and amorous. He was simply irresistible. They made love, and it was even better than the last time because now each knew what the other liked, and within minutes they were perfectly attuned to each other's needs.
The wall separating their room from Noah's was paper thin. She tried to be quiet, but when she felt those first tremors of
exquisite pleasure coursing through her body, the feeling was so intense she bit his shoulder to keep the shout of ecstasy from escaping.
It was so wonderful that when she awakened at six, she rolled into his arms and, as Margo would say, she jumped his bones again.
He went back to sleep. She went into the bathroom, and after she'd showered, she stood in front of the mirror looking at her face. Her cheeks were red from rubbing against his whiskers, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.
Sighing, she shook her head and whispered, "Hi. My name's Avery, and I'm a sexaholic."
She couldn't blame anyone but herself. Vowing to leave him the hell alone, she picked up her toothbrush and tried not to think about him as she got ready for the day.
John Paul was in a much better mood as they started out. He was almost pleasant to Noah. Not quite, but almost. Avery thought the two men acted like adversaries in some kind of contest, but it didn't take her long to realize they both got a kick out of trading insults.
After they had stopped for lunch, she got into the backseat, put on her baseball cap to block the sun from her eyes, and decided to take a nap.
The men lowered their voices so they wouldn't disturb her. Noah knew about Jilly. He'd read Avery's file, and he'd come prepared.
They speculated about how she had connected with Monk and what their relationship might be. Noah, of course, knew all
about Skarrett too, and thought that maybe he was calling all the shots. John Paul disagreed, pointing out that once Monk had taken the contract, he did things his way.
One topic led to another. "Are you going to lose your job because you're helping us?" John Paul asked. "The FBI's looking for Avery."
"I don't work for the FBI. I'm what you might call an independent contractor."
John Paul was exasperated. "No, you work for the FBI. What the hell do you think that badge is for?"
"Better parking spots. It's the only reason I carry it."
"Get serious."
"Do you ever miss it?"
"Miss what?"
"The action."
"Hell, no."
"You still living in the swamp?"
"I live in Bowen."
"In the swamp."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"You think she'll want to live there?"
He pretended not to understand. "Who?"
He had forgotten how blunt Noah could be. "The woman you're sleeping with. The woman you can't take your eyes off even when you're driving. You've been looking in the rearview mirror every ten seconds since you got behind the wheel. You're gonna get us killed if you don't pay attention to the road."