She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want him to go to that prison hospital somewhere in Maine. She didn’t want to lose him because she loved him.
The adoring expression they shared caused pea-green envy to skip through my veins and an ache to pierce my heart. I wanted my own man to love.
“What do you want, Mac, an apology in blood? I already explained…”
He’d had a mini-seizure. Just when he was about to make love to a beautiful woman he wanted so badly . . .
I didn’t want to anger the grief-stricken constable who was bemoaning the senseless way Sarah had died, alone and exposed to the cool autumn evening.
She not only wanted her husband out of the house, she wanted him out of the bank her family owned. Stripped bare; let’s see what woman would want him then?
What he wanted to do was drag her into his arms. Same reaction he’d had when he first met her, but he sure as hell didn’t date anyone involved in a case.