She had work to do, but when he looked at her that way, nothing else mattered. “Definitely in the mood to think about something besides death and murder for a while.”

“In that case, if you’ll come this way, I’ll demonstrate the many ways this suite can be useful to us.”

Sam took his hand and followed him into their large, marble bathroom. He positioned her in the middle of the long vanity, so she was looking into the mirror as he stood behind her.

“I want you to watch,” he said, kissing the side of her neck before raising her sweater up and over her head.

Sam shivered at the hungry way he gazed at her breasts, contained in a lacy bra that she’d recently bought online and had sent to Tracy’s house. Nick hadn’t seen it yet, but judging by the way he studied it, he approved.

His hands moved from her hips to slide up over her ribs to cup her breasts. “Someone has been doing some shopping.”

Her nipples tightened in anticipation of his touch, but he was in no hurry. “Maybe.”

“I’m digging it.”

“I thought you might.” She sighed when she realized he was going to torture her and enjoy every second of it.

He touched her everywhere but where she most wanted him to, making her squirm against the tight press of his body against her back. Her knees felt weak, like they might give out at any second, but he’d never let her fall.

She knew that with a certainty she’d never experienced with any boyfriend or lover before him.

“Is my baby feeling eager tonight?” The heat of his breath on her neck sent a shiver through her that landed as a tight ache between her legs.

“Your baby is feeling murderous.”

Chuckling, he said, “Nah, you’d never murder me. Too much paperwork.”

Sam laughed and then gasped when he cupped her breasts, holding her breath in hope that he might touch her nipples. But he denied her again. “Nick!”

“What, honey?”

“Come on.”

“All in good time, my love.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t have time. She had a murderer to catch. But he wouldn’t want to hear that. Not now, anyway. And besides, it wouldn’t compel him to move things along. When he was in this sort of mood, he took his own sweet time.

“You need to relax and let it all go for a few minutes,” he whispered.

“Not sure I can.”

“You can. Just look at me. Look at us. Let it all go.”

He was good. She’d give him that. He always knew what she needed to hear and was the only person alive who could truly distract her when her mind was occupied with murder, especially one that had struck so close to home. With a twist of his fingers, he released the front clasp on her bra and pushed the straps down her arms until the garment fell onto the floor.