Fatal Series 01 - Fatal Affair

could no longer resist, he put his arms around her. “What?”
    Again her cheeks burned with embarrassment and discomfort, but this had to be said. “That I think of what we do…together…as fucking.”
    “Baby, come on. I know that.”
    “Because it’s so much more than that,” she said, looking up at him.
    “Yes.” He brushed his lips over hers. “It is.”
    “I love you, too.”
    He went perfectly still. “Yeah?”
    Pleased to have caught him off guard, she nodded. “Since that night at the party for me, too. I shouldn’t have married Peter for many reasons, but mostly because I always loved you. Always.”
    “Samantha,” he whispered, leaning in for a deep, passionate kiss.
    “No PDA on duty, or any other time,” she mumbled when she came to her senses and remembered where they were.
    “Very special occasion.” His hands slid down to cup her ass and pull her tight against his erection. “Does that door have a lock?”
    With her hands on his chest, she tried to push him back. “Don’t even think about it.”
    “I’m way past thinking.”
    She went up on tiptoes to roll his bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
    Groaning, he released her. “I’ll hold you to that.”
    “Um, what he said about me…at the end… We should probably talk about that.”
    Nick rested a finger on her lips. “Later.”
    Grateful for the reprieve, she took a deep breath. “So what’s with you and my dad?” she asked, grabbing a half-empty bottle of soda from her desk.
    “We’ve reached an understanding of sorts.”
    Raising a suspicious eyebrow, she studied him. “What sort?”
    “That’s between me and him.”
    “I don’t like the sound of that.”
    He tweaked her nose. “You don’t have to.”
    A knock on the door startled them.
    “Enter,” she called.
    Gonzo opened the door. “Um, sorry to interrupt—”
    “You’re not interrupting anything,” she said with a meaningful glance at Nick. “What’s up?”
    “There’s a woman here to see you. Wouldn’t give her name, insists on seeing you and only you. Looks shook up.”
    “All right. Bring her in.” To Nick, she said, “Do you mind taking my dad home? I’ll be along soon.”
    “Sure.” He leaned in for one last kiss.
    “Don’t talk about me with him.”
    “Dream on,” he said, laughing as he left the room. “Put some ice on that neck.”
    Sam took in the view of his fine denim-clad ass and sighed with delight. That he was hers, all hers, was something she still couldn’t believe. She wished she had time to indulge in the happy dance that was just bursting to get out.
    Gonzo accompanied a distraught woman to the door and showed her in. “This is Sergeant Holland.”
    “Have a seat.” Sam gestured to the chair and dismissed Gonzo with a grateful nod. “What’s your name?”
    The woman’s manicured fingers fiddled with her designer purse as she looked at Sam with dark, ravaged eyes. “Andrea Daly.”
    “What can I do for you, Ms. Daly?”
    “It’s Mrs . Daly.” She looked down at the floor, sobs shaking her petite frame. “I’ve done an awful thing.”
    Sam came around her desk and leaned back against it. “If you tell me about this awful thing, maybe I can help you.”
    Andrea wiped the tears from her face. “The night the senator was killed…”
    The back of Sam’s neck tingled. “Did you know him? Senator O’Connor?”
    Andrea shook her head. “I’ve never done anything like this. My family means everything to me. I have children.”
    “Mrs. Daly, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is you think you’ve done.”
    “I was with Terry O’Connor,” she whispered. “I spent that whole night with him at the Day’s Inn in Leesburg.” She wiped her runny nose. “When I saw him on the news being brought in this morning… I couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t do it.”
    “I know.”
    Incredulous, Andrea stared up at Sam. “I risked my marriage and my family and you already knew? ”
    Sam reached out to her. “You did a brave thing coming here. It was the right thing.”
    “A lot of good that’ll do me when my husband reads about it in the paper.”
    “It won’t be in the paper. If your husband finds out, it’ll be because you tell him.”
    “Do you mean that?”
    “Terry O’Connor doesn’t remember you. He was so drunk he couldn’t even offer a description of the woman he said he’d been with. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it’s the