“I feel awful about the bad timing yesterday morning,” Rachel told him.

Frankel let out a sigh. “Duty calls, I guess.”

“Duty sort of sucks if you ask me.”

“Pretty damn much,” agreed Frankel.

So when she had called him at the Covent Garden Hotel that night and asked if he wouldn’t mind some company, Frankel hadn’t hesitated.

He had told her to head right on over.

And this time, he made damn sure that he kissed her.

Chapter 20

20

Rachel woke up to the first rays of light coming through the window. For a moment, she needed to shake the cobwebs out of her brain and get her bearings.

She had slept the last three nights in completely different places—none of them her own. Going from the passenger seat of an unmarked police car to the 777’s window seat and now in the comfy queen bed at the Covent Garden Hotel—she was entitled to being a little out of whack. Not that she was complaining.

She turned to see John still asleep beside her.

The sex had been alternately passionate and tender—exactly the way she would have imagined and desired if she’d taken the time to consider what she was getting herself involved in.

The past few days had been such a whirlwind that Rachel hadn’t thought about where things were headed; hardly her norm. She usually explored any given situation from every angle, trying to make an informed decision before making any definitive move. She would invariably regret her choice and spend the next few hours, days, sometimes even months thinking about the road not taken.

But this time Rachel had thrown caution to the wind and didn’t regret for one second where she now found herself.

Except that it was almost seven in the morning and she was certain her father was wondering where the hell she’d disappeared to.

“Hey.”

She glanced from the clock on the nightstand back over at John.

His baby-blue eyes were half-open. She felt a fluttering deep inside.

“Hey,” she said back.

John stretched, then gently reached for her. She folded into the crook of his arm and shoulder—where she fit quite nicely, thank you very much.

He smiled. “That was . . .”

This time they said it at the same time.

“. . . unexpected.” Both laughed.

John looked past her at the clock.

“You’ve got to go, I bet.”

“They taught you well in detective school.”

“Graduated top half of my class.”

“Higher than that, I bet.”

John gave her a tiny shrug. “First, actually.”

“False modesty,” Rachel said with a smile. “I sort of love that.”

“We aim to please.”

“You did just fine in that department.” She kissed him on the cheek. More than a peck; she let her lips linger, then eased herself out of his arms. “I really have to go.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“And I’m really glad you said that.”