“Did you come right from the airport?”

“Yes.”

“Not much luggage for almost a week.”

Rica smiled wryly. “Well, Detective Wayne, that’s because most of it is still at the airport waiting for me to pick it up later. I didn’t want to drag it all over here, so I just grabbed what was easy.”

“What’s the hurry?”

Contemplatively, Rica sipped her wine, very aware of Carter’s thigh resting lightly along her own. “I don’t know. I woke up in the middle of the night with this… feeling, that I needed to come back. Right away. All I could think about was seeing you.”

“This just came to you out of the blue?”

“Not exactly. Just the urgent sense that I needed to come home. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Despite her resolve not to let her feelings get out of hand, Carter felt a twist of desire. “You’re making me a little bit crazy here, Rica. What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you. But first…” Rica set her glass aside and cradled Carter’s jaw in the palm of one hand. “I really have to kiss you.”

Carter moaned at the softness of Rica’s mouth and the delicate tease of her tongue along the inside of her lip. She was instantly wet, painfully aroused. “Christ.”

When Rica drew back, she was breathing quickly and her face was flushed. “When did you take the picture?”

“Wait…what?” Carter’s head wasn’t working right, and considering that most of her blood had rushed to a few inches between her legs, she wasn’t surprised. Then her brain clicked in. Pareto had obviously told Rica about the photo and, fleetingly, she wondered if he’d told her the rest. She hadn’t counted on Rica knowing, but there was really no reason not to tell her the truth. “I took it that first morning while you were asleep. With the camera on my cell phone.”

“For one of the reports you were going to turn in?” Rica asked acerbically.

“No. By that time, I knew there wouldn’t be any report on you.” Carter shrugged. “I took it because I…I don’t know. Habit, I guess. It was a crime.” She emptied her wineglass in one deep swallow and refilled it. “It was more than a crime. I guess I just wanted something on him.” She met Rica’s appraising stare. “Taking it without your knowing was an invasion of your privacy. I apologize.”

The corner of Rica’s mouth twitched. “There are a number of things you could apologize for. I don’t think this is one of them.”

“Maybe you should tell me what the other ones are.” Carter held up her hand. “No. Wait. Maybe you could kiss me again first.”

Rica laughed softly. “I don’t think so. I tend to get too distracted, and there are things I want to know.”

“All right.” Carter took Rica’s hand and was relieved when Rica allowed her to hold it. The small connection made her feel more in touch with herself than she had been all week.

“Why did you do it? Why send it to my father?”

“Because I wanted him to know that you weren’t safe.” Carter looked away, the muscles in her jaw bunching as she swallowed her anger. “Because I couldn’t keep you safe.”

Rica stroked Carter’s face. “It’s not your job to do that.”

Carter whipped her head back so quickly Rica jumped. “It wasn’t about the job. I love you.”

Rica closed her eyes. “I don’t want to hear that right now.”

Right now, Carter thought, feeling a glimmer of hope. She didn’t say she didn’t want to hear it at all. “Let me know when you do. Just in case.”

“Don’t try to charm me into forgetting why I came here. Why was my father so sure it was Enzo?”

Carter considered her answer, suddenly aware that Rica didn’t have all the information. She considered any number of stories before realizing that there could be only one answer. Now. Ever. She told her the truth. “I wrote a note on the back.”

“My God, you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you?”

“Some. Yeah.”

“What did it say?”

“Enzo’s handiwork. And there’s more at the gallery.”

“What?” Unconsciously, Rica looked in the direction of her gallery, as if she could see it through the walls and across the blocks that separated them.

“Not that one. The one in Manhattan. We think…” Carter winced. “Some people think Enzo had a sideline, probably selling drugs or other contraband on his own and laundering the money through your gallery. Maybe even passing the goods that way.”

“The bastard.” Rica very carefully placed her wineglass on a stone coaster that sat all alone next to the pizza box. “We were about to have an accountant go over the books.”

Carter shook her head. “He’s not that dumb. You might have found a few irregularities, but I’m sure he didn’t leave a paper trail.” She looked pained. “Of course, that wasn’t about to stop our illustrious leader from looking for one.”

“You’ve been watching the gallery,” Rica said accusingly. “God, is there no end to this?”

“I wasn’t watching it, but it’s been watched, yes.” Carter put her glass next to Rica’s and took her hands. She automatically smoothed her thumbs back and forth over the tops of Rica’s fingers as she held them in her palms. “Have you talked to your father in the last day?”

“No. I’ve been traveling. My return was sudden. He doesn’t even know that I’m back.”

“So you weren’t due to come back today,” Carter said, just to be sure.

“No. Not until the day after tomorrow.”

“I don’t know all the details, Rica, but there was a fire in the Manhattan gallery. I doubt there’ll be any records for anyone to find.”

Rica leapt up. “A fire! My God.” She stared at Carter. “What about the inventory? The artwork?”

“I don’t know. I just heard myself.”

“I need to call my father. My father will know.”

“Wait a minute,” Carter said as Rica fumbled in her briefcase for her phone. “There’s something else you need to know.”

“What more could there be?”

“We think Enzo’s dead. A car accident early this morning.”

Rica blinked and stared, then dropped the briefcase on the floor. Wordlessly, she sat down again next to Carter and curled her fingers around Carter’s thigh just above her knee. Her hand trembled and Carter slid an arm around her shoulders.

“You okay?” Carter said after a full moment of silence. “Rica?”

“My father sent me away. Me and Angie. So no one would be at the gallery this week. So we would be far away when something…happened.” She stared at Carter, her eyes dark with pain. “That was the reason for the trip, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know, baby.” Carter skimmed her fingers through Rica’s hair and kissed her softly on the lips. “I don’t know, and this is one thing you don’t want to know.”

“But you knew. You knew if you sent that picture what he would do.”

Carter shook her head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know how much he loved you.” She took a deep breath. “I only knew what I would do if I were him.”

“What? What would you do?”

“I’d make sure Enzo never did anything to hurt you again, in any way.”

“You’re a cop, Carter. Cops don’t work that way.” Rica raised their joined hands and rubbed her cheek against Carter’s. The warmth comforted her.

“I’m not a cop anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I quit.”

“I…you…why?”

“You know why. Don’t make me say it, when you already told me you don’t want to hear it.”

For a second Rica looked perplexed, then she shook her head violently. “For me? No. I can’t let you do that for me.”

“Not just for you.” Carter freed one hand and stroked Rica’s face. Her fingers trembled as violently as Rica’s. “For me too. For whatever’s left of my sanity.”

While Rica struggled to take in everything she was hearing, she found herself more and more drawn to the way Carter’s lips curved as she spoke. To the strength of the fingers holding hers. To the pulse that raced in Carter’s throat. Her brain was on overload but her body was singularly focused. “I want you to make love to me.”

“Rica.” Carter willed herself not to move, because everything in her wanted to take Rica into her arms. “You’ll be sorry later, and that will kill me.”

“No,” Rica whispered. “I won’t.” She leaned into Carter, drawing Carter’s arms around her. She nuzzled Carter’s neck and kissed the soft skin of her collarbone. “I’ve never been sorry that you’ve touched me. Ever.”

“I’m going to take you home. We’ll talk some more in the morning.”

“On one condition.”

Carter grinned wearily. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”

Rica kissed her again, possessively this time, her mouth searing over Carter’s. “I want you to stay the night with me.”

“I don’t know why I ever think I’ll figure you out.” Carter tilted her head back so Rica could kiss her way down her throat. “Because I’m always wrong.”

“Is that so bad?” Rica murmured as she nibbled on Carter’s neck.

Carter groaned, her legs shifting restlessly as pleasure rushed through her. “Christ no. It’s good. Very good.”

Chapter Thirty-One

It was close to nine p.m. by the time Rica and Carter collected the rest of Rica’s luggage from the airport and reached Rica’s place.

“Let me get some air in here,” Rica said on her way through the living room to open the windows. “I’ve forgotten how good it feels to come home.”

“It’s a nice change to be here when one or the other of us isn’t banged up,” Carter said.

“Isn’t it.” Rica smiled at Carter over her shoulder. “Would you mind taking the lighter stuff up to my bedroom? I’ll be up in just a second.”

“Ah…” Carter wasn’t sure the bedroom was going to be such a wise choice. She couldn’t even look at Rica without aching to touch her.

“I’ve been traveling since five this morning and I want a shower.” Rica crossed to Carter, who stood surrounded by luggage, and kissed her. “And forgive me for saying this, not that I really mind, but you smell like you’ve been working all day and might like one too.”