Page 62 of Secrets in the Dark
“Well, we don’tknowit,” Della said.
“Yes,” he told her quietly. “I think we do.”
“Mason, we will get him.”
“But I don’t want him to murder anyone else!”
“I know. Well, let’s frustrate him. We’ll talk about a press conference with François in the morning. We’ll make it damned hard for Jesse Miller to find a woman to kill.”
Della drank her tea and walked around to the sofa. Mason took a seat beside her. She closed her eyes.
She jumped, aware she had been starting to doze off.
Mason laughed softly. “It’s all right. I’m here. I’m awake. We only have another thirty minutes. I’m glad you had a little nap.”
“Ah, ulterior motives?” she asked him.
“You’re accusing me!” he teased.
“I’m ever hopeful,” she said.
Their last thirty minutes went by quickly. Sean came down, assuring them that François was taking second shift with him and would be down any minute.
They headed upstairs.
Della immediately turned on the shower and stripped as quickly as she could, only to discover that, of course, Mason had followed her.
Her clothing lay in a clump on the bathroom floor. His had been strewn across the bedroom.
She turned into his arms for a brief moment and then pushed him away.
“Shower!”
“Shower!”
He lifted her behind the curtain. She’d set the water hot, and it felt wonderful as it rained down upon them, the heat entering her muscles, soothing away tension she hadn’t known she’d been feeling. It had been such a long day. But now they were together. The shower was equipped with liquid soap, and they both filled their hands with it, adding the sleek feel of it to the water as they came closer and closer, teasing with every touch, and still...
Washing away the day.
“How’s the adrenaline?” Mason whispered.
“Keep working on it!” she teased.
“Hmm...”
She felt his fingers sliding over her, the warmth, greater than that of the water, in his lips as they trailed along her shoulder.
“My adrenaline is doing just fine,” she whispered. “Let me show you...”
“Oh, do be my guest!”
They touched, and they laughed, and they affirmed all that they felt for one another, and how they drew strength from just being together, speaking or in silence.
The water rinsed away the last of the soap. They emerged, drying one another as they had washed one another. Then, of course, Mason decided he needed to be romantic and dramatic, sweeping her off her feet, carrying her to the expanse of the bed.
And they made love. Beautiful, life-affirming love. Something that kept sanity in a world where they both knew that they had to continue fighting demons.
And later, when they lay just breathing and touching together, Mason murmured, “I’m afraid I’ve cut down on our sleeping hours.”
