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Ellie’s heart slammed hard against her ribs as he leaned over and turned off the light. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
    Talk? She didn’t want to talk. “Why are you doing this, Vic?”
    From his heavy footsteps, he was returning to his chair. When he didn’t answer, her heart hardened. Well, damn.
    *     *     *
    Vic barely slept all night. The image of El’s perfect breasts had been burned into his brain, keeping his mind active. Sure, she’d drunk too much, but it shouldn’t have been enough for her to lose all of her inhibitions. Or had it? When she’d left his office, and again at lunch, she acted as if she could barely stand him. Then all of a sudden, she has a few drinks, and she wants to have sex with him?
    Something must have happened in those few hours to make her change her mind, but what? Perhaps she’d spoken with Charlotte, or maybe she’d called Wendy and her friend had convinced El to enjoy herself while she was in Montana. But why? If Wendy was the stalker, did she hope El could distract him into not working on the case? That made less sense than El’s actions. Shit, but he needed some strong coffee.
    Hmm. Did her best friend have designs on the gallery? If El moved out to Montana, Wendy could slip in and run the place. That had potential. Then again, so did all the other suspects.
    Christ. He needed to wake up. Vic had battled with himself all night about whether he should have taken her up on her offer, but he respected her too much to take advantage of her in an inebriated state.
    Light had already eased around the edges of the curtain. Vic probably should leave, but he didn’t want her to wake up alone. He was quite confident she’d feel like shit, and having someone near might help lessen the incessant pounding.
    As soon as she remembered showing him her breasts, she’d be mortified, and he wanted to assure her she was safe with him. What he wouldn’t tell her was that it would take every ounce of his military training to keep his distance.
    El moaned, and Vic sat up. If he thought she’d sleep another few hours, he’d have gone in search of some aspirin and coffee. She groaned, rolled onto her back, and had the wherewithal to keep the covers up to her neck. She licked her lips and his body woke up.
    Her eyes cracked open as she lifted onto her elbows. “What are you doing here?”
    How much did she remember? “I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”
    “Am I?”
    He chuckled. “You’re alive. That’s a good thing.” El never was a morning person. “How about you take a shower while I order us some breakfast?”
    “What happened?” she said, her voice muffled.
    “You might have had a bit too much to drink.”
    She looked around the bed, probably for her clothes. “I vaguely remember some guy in a suit. Or did I imagine him? God, but I feel like shit.”
    “You were laughing and enjoying yourself with him at the bar last night.”
    “Did I really? Can you bring me something to put on?”
    When they were first married, she liked when he’d pick out her clothes. God, but he’d fucked things up since those blissful days. At least he had Charlotte on his side again. His beautiful daughter had been quick to forgive. While she looked so much like El, the two were very different.
    “Sure.” He stepped over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer.
    Damn. Why was everything all lacy and pretty? The colors were soft—pinks, yellow, virginal white. He closed his eyes for a moment then plucked out a pair of pink panties and a white bra. He didn’t want them to match. From the next drawer, he chose a pair of worn jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweater that seemed too big. That should do nicely.
    He gathered them in his arms and walked over to the bed. “Get dressed and I’ll head downstairs and find us some food. After you shower, I want to show you something.”
    “What?”
    “You’ll see.”
    Vic couldn’t leave fast enough. If he didn’t, he’d be tempted