“You and me, Cruz, we’re dangerous together, and—”

He saw her swallow.

“And we were flirting with danger just by dating.” Now she was lying; he could tell by her polished movements, by the high pitch of her voice. She looked at him with those dark, intelligent eyes. “Now, let me go and leave me alone. I never want to see you again! Got that, Cruz? Never.”

He didn’t buy it for a second, and to his shock, he yanked her close and kissed her hard on the lips. Warmth invaded his blood, and she sighed into his mouth, hers opening under his.

He closed his eyes for a second and felt her release, the gentle pressure of her lips, the flick of her tongue, and for just a second she leaned into him. Surrendering to the fire that had always been there.

He groaned, hands splaying.

In a heartbeat, it was over.

She stiffened in his arms. “No!” she whispered, pulling away, staring at him in horror. “This can’t happen.” She backed up quickly as if stricken. “Oh . . . no . . .” She was shaking her head so quickly her veil trembled.

“Wait!” He wasn’t going to lose her again. Not when he still had so many questions, so many unresolved feelings. “Lucia—”

“I mean it.”

He grabbed the crook of her arm. “Then call me.”

“No.”

He rattled off his cell number, anyway, an easy one to remember, ending with the digits of the year she was born. “You won’t forget.”

“I will,” she said, and pulled her arm back, forcing him to release her. “Go away, Cruz, and don’t ever come back here! Never!” She nearly tripped as she scrambled away from him, running through heavy doors.

Cruz, his blood still pounding in his ears, turned to spy Sister Charity glaring down at him from an upper balcony. Her face said it all. Chalk-white against her black veil and twisted in disapproval . . . no, something more.

The paragon of virtue’s features were set into an expression of disgust, as if she’d just seen something so vile and repulsive she couldn’t speak.

As her eyes held his, she made the sign of the cross over her chest, leaving Cruz to wonder why the benign action seemed like a threat.

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 29

It was late afternoon by the time Val and Slade headed to St. Elsinore’s convent. The sun, hidden partially by clouds, was hanging low in the sky, threatening rain again as Slade drove toward the parish where Valerie and Camille had been adopted.