He wasn’t there. Listening to the silence of the house, she decided he’d already gone. He’d said something last night about finishing some work early and spending her day off with her. Maybe he’d be back soon. She frowned. She was getting too attached too quickly, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted to blame it all on the sex. It was unbelievable. Heady. Powerful. She stretched, little aches zinging through her body to places that hadn’t been so well used in, well, ever. She grinned. Yep, blame it on the sex. Imagine her surprise when Mr. Taciturn turned out to be fascinating, even if she did have to drag information out of him. He’d been everywhere investigating whatever it was he investigated. She frowned again. That was apparently off limits. She understood client confidentiality and all that, but surely he could talk about it in general terms. He looked for missing people. Couldn’t he talk about the ones he’d found? He claimed to always locate whoever he went looking for, too.
