SHE SHOULDN’T BE IN HERE. Ryan rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. She looked like hell, definitely needed some rest. His brow furrowed into a frown. He wondered if she’d even eaten today. He forced his attention back to his time line. She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself, he reasoned. It was none of his business whether she’d slept or eaten. They were working a case together. Nothing more. And, had it been up to him, she wouldn’t even be doing that.
He tried to recall the months they’d worked together before…before they’d become lovers. What was the point? Even then he’d been mesmerized by every little thing about her. The way she smiled…her laugh, the way her mouth quirked when she wanted to laugh and knew she shouldn’t. Everything about her made him want her. The curve of her cheek, the taste of her lips, the heat of her sweet body as he sank deeply inside her. His lips tightened into a thin line of self-deprecation. How could he still think that way?
She wasn’t his anymore. As soon as he solved the mystery surrounding her daughter’s disappearance they wouldn’t see each other again.
He’d go back to Chicago and she’d go back to…to whomever she’d turned to since she’d walked away from him. His frown deepened. Where the hell was the child’s father now when Mel needed him most? Ryan snapped the cap onto the black marker he’d been using with enough force to crack it. Why did he even wonder? Somehow he had to get past this ridiculous feeling of possessiveness. He’d even caught himself studying the child’s photograph to see if he could find any resemblance to himself. Of course there was none. The child was a carbon copy of her mother. Why had he done that?
He’d spent the entire afternoon, he glanced at his watch, and a good part of the evening closed up in this office with her. The subtle scent of her perfume was driving him crazy. It was the same fragrance she’d always worn. Sweet, light, natural. He wanted desperately to thread his fingers into all that silky blond hair. To taste those pink lips while he stared into those eager green eyes.
He massaged the back of his neck, the muscles tight and knotted there. He had to get out of here before he did or said something he’d regret. “I’m calling it a night.” He turned to face Bill and Mel. “We could all use some rest.” He sent a pointed look in her direction. She merely lifted her chin and glared back at him.
Bill closed his notebook. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve probably got time to have dinner before Carter gets back. I want to look at those files tonight.”
Ryan resisted the impulse to shake him. Didn’t Bill get it? He’d had all the Melany exposure he could take today. “Fine.” Ryan headed toward the door. “I’ll see the two of you in the morning.”
“I thought we could take Mel to dinner and see her safely home,” Bill put in quickly, stopping Ryan dead in his tracks.
They were going to have to have a talk. But not right now. Not in front of Mel. The last thing Ryan wanted was for her to know that she still affected him…on any level.
Ryan pinned Bill with a look. One he hoped relayed the depth of his irritation. “I’m sure you two can manage without me. I have things to do. Calls to make.” He turned to Mel. “You have my number. Call me if you need me.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable.
He didn’t want to wonder what she was thinking, but he did. He walked out anyway, paused in the corridor and took a long, deep breath. He had to stay focused on the case…not Melany. He had to keep the face of the child before him…not the mother. It was the child who needed him. Whether she was dead or alive, he had to find her. That was his job. Holding Mel’s hand was not part of the deal. Bill would just have to see to that task himself.
Ryan exited the building and unlocked his rental car. He opened the door, but hesitated before getting inside. He cursed himself for the hesitation. Mel was strong, she could handle this, he assured that irritating little voice in his head. She didn’t need him, anyway. Hadn’t she been the one to walk out? Besides, if she wanted a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold, why didn’t she just call up the father of her child?
He gritted his teeth at that thought. Damn. He didn’t want to feel this. He just wanted to do the job and get the hell out of here.
“Ryan, wait!”
Mel.
He turned in the direction of her voice. She was hurrying toward him, her face pale, her eyes suspiciously bright. Something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name shifted in his chest. He stood there, staring at her, until she’d reached him and caught her breath.
“Was there something else?” he growled.
She shook her head. “No, it’s just that…” She paused and grappled for composure. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for agreeing to help me.”
His fingers tightened on the door. Why hadn’t he already gotten in and driven away? His own emotions were too raw and close to the surface to deal with this. “There’s no need to thank me,” he told her flatly. “I’m only doing my job.”
She pushed a handful of silky hair behind her ear. She’d always worn it up around the office. Seeing her with it down like this reminded him of the time they’d spent together. Alone. Intimately.
“I know you didn’t want to take this case.” She looked away, but couldn’t hide the tortured expression that had claimed her features. “You probably think I’m crazy just like everybody else, but I know my daughter’s alive.”
He flinched at the tormented sound of her voice, then grabbed back control. This was business, he had to make sure it stayed that way. “I don’t think anything at this point,” he said with more clinical detachment than he’d thought possible. “And, if I remember correctly, you were the one who didn’t want me on this case.”
Color rose in her pale cheeks as she looked up at him once more. “I was wrong.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “I didn’t know how I would handle seeing you again.”
An eyebrow shot up his forehead. “Why would you worry?” he demanded sharply. “We have been over for two years.”
She looked away again, and he could have kicked himself. Where the hell was his control?
“I know.” The words were hardly more than a sigh. “But I was worried anyway. We were—”
“Were being the operative word,” he interjected roughly. This was going nowhere. Neither of them needed this right now. “Your appreciation is duly noted. Get some rest, Mel, you’ll need it.”
He got into the car, closed the door and drove away. There was nothing else to say about the past and one of them had to be big enough to admit it.
He just hadn’t expected it to be him.
Chapter Three
Melany sat in Katlin’s room that night.
She’d taken a long hot soak in the tub to ease her stiff muscles. Now, she just sat there, trying not to think. Or feel. She rolled her head, stretching her neck. It didn’t help. Her head still ached, not like before, but just enough to be annoying.
The minute hand on the Little Mermaid clock sidled one notch closer to the hour. Twelve minutes before 1:00 a.m. She really should go to bed. She was exhausted. She needed to sleep. But why bother? If she slept, she would dream. If she dreamed she would have to remember.
She didn’t want to remember. She wanted to focus on tomorrow and the day after that. Focus on finding Katlin. Bringing her home. She moistened her lips and clasped her trembling hands in her