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extract himself.
    She continued to work her lips gently against his—so soft, so warm . Her lips parted, her tongue probing into his mouth, and he moaned. Her chest expanded with deepening breaths.
    Finally her lips opened and released, and her head sank onto the pillow. He could feel her skin warming, and her heart beating solidly against him.
    His hand closed over her waist, and he took a slow, tremulous breath, trying to steady his own hammering heart.
    *   *   *
    Ross’s eyes opened suddenly, and he found himself staring into Abby’s smiling face. Her straight blond hair, free from its usual twist, tickled his bare chest.
    But Abby wasn’t looking at him.
    Gazing down, he discovered Tess’s head resting on his chest, her hand splayed across his sternum. Her fingers stretched, lifting at the tips, and she turned her face to Abby, blinking in the morning light.
    Relief mingled with surprise at finding Tess curled up against him. Both of them were damp with sweat.
    â€œThank God,” murmured Abby, touching her face.
    Tess nestled against him, nose brushing his chest, and she drew in a breath through her nose, smelling him. Not exactly the reaction he’d expected. Was she really awake? Did she think he was someone else? Again he held still, afraid of what would happen if he broke the spell.
    Tess gasped. She shot away from him, pressing her back against the windows next to the bed. Her eyes opened wide. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and the color stealing over her pale cheeks.
    â€œGood morning, Doctor.”
    *   *   *
    Agent McGinnis sat up and combed his hands through his dark hair. Tess’s breath caught. She was sure keeping fit was some unwritten job requirement—maybe even a written one—but wow, the man was ripped. Not in a gross, exaggerated way. More of a tight, sexy, the-better-to-hold-you-with-my-dear way.
    She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “What are you doing in my bed?” The throaty, morning-after timbre of her voice caused her to flush again.
    She glanced around at the unfamiliar, spare furnishings and then at Abby. “Whose bed am I in?”
    No one answered right away, and she looked down, noting with a hiss of alarm the low-scooped, green chemise stretching across her breasts. What had she missed? Had she and Ross…? No, not possible.
    Abby grabbed the top blanket and wrapped it around Tess’s shoulders, sitting beside her.
    â€œDo you remember what happened with the Echo? Ross got you away from him.”
    â€œNo,” muttered Ross. “He let her go.”
    Tess closed her eyes, grasping, and finally it came rushing back. He let me go. She hadn’t thought them capable of leaving a victim alive.
    Her eyes snapped open. “Ross, you didn’t shoot him?”
    â€œNo, Doctor. He’s very much alive.”
    â€œTess,” said Abby, “we thought we were going to lose you. Ross and I have been taking care of you all night.”
    She read the reassurance in her supervisor’s gaze. There’d been nothing compromising. No inappropriate behavior. Apparently she and Ross hadn’t gotten drunk and fallen into bed together. But then why was her head pounding like a fraternity house hangover? And why wouldn’t Ross look at her?
    She watched him rise from the bed, boxer briefs stretching over his thighs and backside. He walked to the dresser and slipped on a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. It was the first time she’d seen him in anything but a jacket and tie. The funeral director uniform suited him, but this—this was much better. He looked like a real person. Like he had a soul and a beating heart. Of course she’d heard his beating heart for herself, just moments ago.
    Ross turned slowly, eyes settling on her face. He looked confused and unsure—another first. “I can make coffee,” he said. His lips curved