“Yes,” Blake said hoarsely.
Rick checked the man’s pulse anyway, then glanced over his shoulder at Hodges. “Get the coroner in here. And tape off the scene. Forensics will need to do a sweep.”
Still holding Sam, Blake got to his feet. “I’m getting her out of here.”
“Blake, we need her statement—”
“Later,” he cut in. “I’m getting her out of here.”
He held her in his arms as if she were a fragile piece of china and carried her out of the room. Ignoring the cops streaming inside, he walked purposely out of the greenhouse.
Detective Carol Samson followed them, and much to Blake’s displeasure, started taking Sam’s statement the second they stepped into the late-afternoon chill.
He set her on her feet, his arms cold and empty without Sam in them. He sucked in a lungful of oxygen and took a step to the side, turning to stare at the massive greenhouse behind them. How could a man who grew such beautiful flowers be so damn ugly on the inside? When he’d first entered the greenhouse, he’d been caught off guard by the beauty of the roses filling the space. He’d almost stopped—no pun intended—to smell the roses.
And then he’d heard Sam cry out.
He could still hear that note of terror in her voice, playing over and over again in his head like a bad sitcom rerun.
He took another shaky step back.
“Blake?” she said, noticing him edge away.
“I’m just going to speak to Rick,” he replied roughly. “Go ahead and finish giving your statement to Detective Samson.”
He moved away, but rather than heading inside to find Rick, he just stood on the icy path leading to the greenhouse and rubbed his temples. He watched as Sam softly recounted the events to Detective Samson.
His chest squeezed with relief. He’d almost lost her. God, he’d almost lost her.
“We’re all done,” Sam said in a quiet voice. She approached him from behind and wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders.
At the entrance of the greenhouse, the coroner’s people were wheeling out the stretcher that contained Grant’s body, covered with a black tarp.
Sam watched the scene, her expression unreadable. “I can’t believe it’s over,” she murmured.
“It’s not,” he found himself choking out. “It’s not over.”
Sam lifted her head. What on earth was he talking about? Francis Grant was dead. The Rose Killer would never hurt another woman again, and it was all thanks to Blake Corwin.
Blake had rid the world of the evil that had lived inside Grant, but that wasn’t the only thing he’d gotten rid of. In a couple of short weeks he’d succeeded in ridding Sam of the plague she’d lived with for six months: fear.
How could she ever repay him for making her feel alive again?
“Of course it’s over,” she said in a firm voice. “You killed him, Blake.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said gruffly.
She ignored her speeding heart rate. “Then what do you mean?”
“I lied to you, Sam.”
She gulped, wanting so badly for him to continue but at the same time hoping he wouldn’t. What if he finished the thought only to push her away again? Her heart told her that Blake couldn’t be that cruel, but he’d been so adamant about ending their affair, so sure that she deserved something more than he could give, and she found herself falling prey to doubt and insecurity.
She finally found her voice. “You lied?”
“When I told you I wasn’t whole. I didn’t want to see it at the time but…I was wrong, Sam. When I’m with you, I am whole.”
Her mouth went so dry it felt as if it were filled with cotton balls. Swallowing heavily, she met Blake’s earnest gaze. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to be with you.” He brushed his hand over her cheek, and she almost melted into a puddle on the cold ground. “I’m saying that I love you.”
His words penetrated right through her clothing and heated her heart. “You love me?”
“I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. I love everything about you, Samantha. Your strength and your laughter and your scars and—” He broke off, took a long breath. “Everything about you.”
Their eyes locked, and she nearly fell over backward. The emotion brimming in his whiskey-colored eyes made her weak.
“When I got home today and found you gone—” His voice cracked. “It was like someone tore my heart right out of my chest. The thought of losing you…” He drifted, the look in his eyes almost frantic.
He stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know I acted like an irrational fool, but I promise you, Sam, I’m thinking clearly now. I’m always going to be stubborn and serious—I’ll probably still be a demanding jerk from time to time—but I can promise you I’m not going to push you away again. I promise that I’ll smile more often and I’ll never play golf, and if you want to watch some Brad Pitt movies, I’ll make the popcorn, okay?”
Laughter spilled out of her throat. “Those are some pretty hefty promises.” Her chest suddenly clenched as she thought of something. “What about Kate?”
“Kate is gone,” he said softly. “And it’s time to let her go. She wouldn’t want me to walk away from you.” He gave a wry smile. “Actually, she’d be furious if she knew what I put you through.”
“And the risks that come with your job?”
“You told me you could handle it.” His probing gaze was filled with trepidation. “Did you mean that?”
She took a breath, nearly drowning in the pool of love reflected in his eyes. He looked so sexy standing there in front of her, his magnetic dark gaze awash with sincerity and his rough voice thick with emotion.
Could she handle the danger of his job? God, if it meant spending her life with this gorgeous, incredible man, she could handle just about anything.
“Yes, I meant it,” she said firmly.
“Good.” He paused for a beat. “Then I think that maybe we should get married. I don’t think I can stand not waking up in your arms every morning.”
Her head snapped up, but the surprise his comment evoked was quickly replaced by amusement. “Are you serious? That proposal was almost as bad as your snow angel.”
He laughed. “I could get down on one knee if you’d like but the ground looks kind of cold.”
She couldn’t help but return the laugh. “How about kissing me, instead?”
His breath hitched. “Put me out of my misery first, sweetheart. Is that a yes?”
She took a step closer and twined her arms around his neck. “Yes.” With a grin, she added, “You might be stubborn and demanding, but I love you, Blake. With all my heart.”
And then she kissed him.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3820-0
SILENT WATCH
Copyright © 2009 by Leeanne Kenedy
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Elle Kennedy, Silent Watch
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