There wasn’t a prettier view of New Orleans than from the bridge. With a little shiver, she prayed this wouldn’t be the last time she saw it. “Cold?” One hand on the steering wheel, Parker reached with the other and rubbed her thigh. “No,” she said, wondering why it was so easy to confess her deepest feelings to him. “Scared.” “Me, too.” He tapped the signal, then switched lanes. She had a hard time imagining Parker Simms afraid of anything. It was comforting, having him admit to a weakness. “I can’t stand the thought of you going back into that man’s house, Caron.” Scooting closer, she linked their hands. He laced their fingers and pressed their palms together. A knot shifted into her throat. Too tender! She changed the subject. “You didn’t tell me.” The medication had kicked in. But was that why she was feeling better? Or was it Misty? “How’d the meeting go with Linda Forrester?” “All in all, I suppose it was productive. She’s hiding something, and she’s scared witless.”
