His eyes traced over my features, as if he was memorizing them. As if he was never planning on seeing me again. Maybe he wasn't. The idea made my heart twist, but I kept my face smooth and expressionless. I hadn't survived this long by wearing my heart on my sleeve. I didn't plan on doing it now. Not even for him.
Finally, Donovan held out his hand. I took it, His fingers felt hard, strong, capable against my own, and heat from him warmed my whole body. Donovan dropped my hand like it burned him. Maybe it did, to want me so much, the woman who'd killed his partner.
He nodded at me a final time. Then the detective turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving my gin joint and heart a little emptier and colder than they had been before.
Web Of Lies by Jennifer Estep
