“I’m oddly complimented by that.”

“You should be. I hate people. But I love the hell out of you.”

Nick pressed a kiss to the center of her back. “You loving the hell out of me has made my whole life. I hope you know that.”

“Is it better than being president?” she asked with a coy smile.

“That had better be a rhetorical question,” he said, giving her a light slap to the ass that made her gasp from the charge it sent through her body.

“Oh, my baby liked that.” He did it again and again, until she was writhing beneath him as he moved in her.

If you’d asked her if she had a round two in her a few minutes ago, she would’ve said no way, but leave it to him.

The second orgasm was even more epic than the first, and as she came down from the highest of highs, she felt like a bowl of Jell-O.

Nick withdrew, cleaned her up and helped her to bed.

She felt like she could sleep for a week. So much for getting some work done.

He followed her into bed and curled up to her back. “What do we think of being creative while our loft is off-limits?”

“Mmmmmm.”

“I’ll take that as a positive review.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Love you, Samantha. Forever and ever.”

“Love you more.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

She fell asleep with a smile on her face and a persistent ache in her heart for Angela, Spencer, their children and all that had been lost.

At nine the next morning, Jake made the call to the 504 number he’d been given by the bar manager.

“Rosa residence.”

“Hi there, my name is Jake Malone, and I’m an old friend of Tom’s from the DC police department. I’m in town for a few days and wondered if it might be possible for me to see him?”

“Let me get Mrs. Rosa. She decides who gets in and who doesn’t. Please hold.”

Jake waited five minutes.

“This is Amanda Rosa. Who’s this?”

He went through the introduction once again. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but Tom and I are old friends, and when I heard he was ill, I came down hoping to see him.” That was only a slight white lie.

“He’s never mentioned you.”

“We worked together a long time ago, but those were good years. Very good years.” He winced as he poured it on thick, hoping it would help to sway her.

“Let me have your number, and I’ll speak to Tom when he’s awake.”

Jake recited his number.

“I’ll get back to you when I can.”

“Thank you.”

The line went dead.

He wondered how long he’d have to wait to hear from her and whether Tom would want to see him. If he didn’t, he might die with information they badly needed, a thought that spiked Jake’s anxiety. That happened whenever he thought about the absolute mess Stahl had left for them. He suspected they’d seen only the start of it, and with the U.S. Attorney reviewing past convictions tied to Stahl’s shoddy investigations, he expected things to get much worse before they got better.