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Something about the whole setup still didn’t feel right to Taylor. She didn’t know anyone named Edward Delglisi. Didn’t remember that name in co

The answers were there; Taylor could feel them lurking in the deepest recesses of her mind. She was just too ex

hausted to think things through clearly.

She decided to put it aside for now. To enjoy her free

dom. There was plenty of time to figure everything else out. She didn’t even want to start thinking about what she’d missed back in Nashville. Weddings were meant to be rescheduled, right?

It was a sign, she was sure of that. Though there was no way she was going to bring that one up with Baldwin anytime soon.

Thirty-Eight

New York, New York

Monday, December 22

10:58 p.m.

Checking into a hotel in the city was a no-brainer. Neither Taylor nor Baldwin wanted to accept the kindness of the detectives from the 108th, who would have been happy to let them bunk overnight at their homes. Once the debrief was finished, Eldridge had personally driven them across the Queensboro Bridge into Manhattan. Baldwin had called ahead to the W Hotel on Lexington for a single overnight reservation. It was Christmas season, the hotel was booked, but the concierge somehow found a room for them. Eldridge had looked at him strangely for a moment, as if he wanted to ask how Baldwin had that much pull, but changed his mind.

To be honest, Baldwin would have much rather tossed Taylor on the FBI plane and gotten her home as quickly as possible, but there were too many loose ends to wrap up. He glanced at Taylor; she sat in the back of the un

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marked car silently, staring off into the night as they crossed the bridge over the East River.

Baldwin was pleased the W could accommodate him. There was no sense in doing anything less. It wasn’t every day that he got to spend a romantic evening in New York with his bride-to-be. And he enjoyed that he could pull off something to comfort her. He hoped it would comfort her. Jesus, now that he had her back, he didn’t ever want to let her out of his sight again.

The city was dressed and lit in its Christmas finery, but the weather had turned. Snow was coming, flakes were be

gi

They shook hands with Eldridge, thanked him for the hospitality and made plans to meet for breakfast in the morning. The marbled lobby was warm, the discreet fountain separating the space from the restaurant trickled serenely, and Taylor left Baldwin’s side to stand in front of it, head cocked as she watched the water flow. The desk clerk was icily polite, fingers snapping on the keyboard, a room key generated. He asked if there were any special requests, Baldwin declined. No sense adver

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tising who they were to the clerk. They were just another couple who’d had too much to drink in the city and didn’t want to make the long drive back to suburbia. He was worried about Taylor. He’d seen the look in her eyes before, a certain detachment, a faraway gaze that in

dicated she was looking inside herself for answers. He’d listened to her talk about the kidnapping ordeal back at the precinct. He cringed when she described the man who had isolated her, threatened her with ultimatums. He felt the anger and fever that consumed her when she explained about breaking the guard’s neck and making her getaway. He knew how she felt about it—that she wasn’t so upset about taking a life as she was at being forced into that corner. Taylor was a tough woman; she knew the risks of her profession well. Murder, mayhem, all were within her reach. She would have been a good operative—able to compartmentalize her emotions, do what was necessary to get the job done and move forward without regret. But the hand-to-hand combat, mortal combat, was another beast entirely.

The key was in his hand now, and he led her to the ele

vators, distinctly aware that she was restraining herself. He figured the minute that door was shut, a scream would erupt, some sort of loosening of the emotions that tightened her face.

She stayed silent, watchful, guarded.

The elevator’s muted ding alerted him that they’d reached their floor. He beckoned to Taylor, motioning her out of the elevator and into the hallway. He counted down the numbered doors—1515, 1509, 1507, this was their room. He inserted the key into the locking mechanism, the light flickered green and the door popped open slightly. 308

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He pushed the door, held it for Taylor and entered the suite behind her, letting the door swing shut behind him. A short hallway led to the living room, but they didn’t make it that far.

Taylor was on him before the door lock clicked to let them know they were safely ensconced in the womblike area.

Her ferocity astounded him. She took his collar in her hands and forced him back against the wall, her mouth hot on his, her hands traveling the length of his body. He was ready in an instant and it seemed to take forever to get her out of her clothes, though he knew that wasn’t the case—

he heard something tear just before her smooth skin melted against his.

His clothes joined hers in a pile on the floor and they were wrapped around each other, fusing, sucking, touch

ing. Baldwin lifted her by the buttocks and swung her around, forcing her back against the wall. Taylor was like a wild woman, an animal, starved for at

tention, starved for food. Wrapping her long legs around his body, she demanded more. She bit into his neck and he thrust against her, her hips melding into his, her back scraping the expensive paper.A painting fell off a foot away, their hurried coupling shaking the very walls.A scream, deep and guttural, emanated from Taylor’s throat as she climaxed, then she was in tears. Baldwin followed suit, lost in her, lost in himself. He came back, realized he had Taylor pi

He lifted her, never taking his eyes off hers, navigating 14

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the steps through the sitting room, into the bedroom. Still joined, he laid her gently on the bed and moved slightly, the exquisite oneness of them nearly overwhelming him. She took, and took, and he gave all he could, sensing somehow that it wouldn’t be enough to exorcise the demons from her soul. They moved in ways they never had, co

The knock on the door started her awake. She was deep in the bed, covers pulled high on her neck, an arm lodged under Baldwin. He slept deeply, untroubled. She thought back to their frantic sex and smiled. That was a whole new level for them, the desperate clawing passion. She enjoyed it, felt a little guilty that a death had caused such furious excitement within her. Comfort, she thought. That’s what I wanted.