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she had no business even thinking about. The way her mind latched onto the details of his handsome face or that incredibly hard body made her want to scream. She understood her mind’s need to escape reality, but this was not the time to indulge her long neglected libido.
    She rubbed her hands on her hips and started to pace. Detective Treadwell would think she was guilty when she didn’t return his calls. Her friends would be worried about her. Was taking her phone really necessary or overkill? The image of her car exploding loomed in her mind. Those men who killed Desmond had known him, personally as well as professionally. The one had called her by name almost immediately after spotting her and somehow they had followed her to the motel. If she’d led them to a friend or to her hometown, the disaster would’ve multiplied.
    No matter what she thought she should be doing, the fact was she should be grateful to Mike Stone—no matter how pushy he was. Whatever business Desmond had been conducting, in addition to his talent agency, it wasn’t legal and it had almost gotten her killed. She had no experience in dealing with that sort of trouble.
    Lauren flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, pondering her options. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw that poor woman’s face. Even now, in the quiet, secure bedroom of a safe house, her screams echoed through Lauren’s head. She trembled against the awful memory. Was she still alive? Was she the witness? If so, why didn’t she just tell the truth? Lauren certainly wouldn’t be a person of interest if she had.
    Restless, she sat up and went through every detail, every sensation about last night once more. She couldn’t remember seeing anyone else in the building. On the street, crowded with emergency vehicles and flashing lights, she had no idea who might have been watching. Where had the police found a witness if not the woman who’d been on Desmond’s couch? Lauren wanted to go to the station and clear up the outrageous accusations. They couldn’t pin a homicide on her when she hadn’t even been in the room.
    She kicked off her shoes and stretched her toes and calves. It might be smart to find a lawyer. She didn’t want to contact either of the lawyers with Desmond’s agency since they weren’t criminal specialists. They probably couldn’t represent her anyway. She could reach out to a friend or two for a recommendation. The only good news was that her show was finished shooting until after the holidays. If Mike helped her clear this up right away, the producers wouldn’t have cause to fire her.
    The idea that Christmas was swiftly approaching broadsided her. What a hell of a way to spend the days leading up to one of her favorite holidays. She’d been looking forward to spending some of her time off with her friends. That wouldn’t happen now. She’d be lucky to still be alive at Christmas.
    “No use feeling sorry for yourself.” She hopped off the bed and decided to explore the house.
    When she opened the door, Mike was there. “Join me in the office.”
    “Has something else happened?”
    “I have pictures ready for you in the office.”
    She braced for more bad news. “I assume your assistant found something?”
    “Sooner than I expected, yes.” He stepped back and guided her away from the bedroom.
    Lauren had to avert her gaze as they strolled down the hallway. Maybe it was the tension, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off his backside. The way he filled out those jeans was inspiring. Did he snap orders in bed? The errant thought startled her and she felt the heat creeping into her cheeks as he opened a door opposite the formal dining room. She really was not herself.
    “Have a seat,” he said, turning the desk chair for her.
    She complied, leaning to the side as he reached around her and moved the mouse, bringing up a blue screen on the monitor. He was close enough that she caught the scent of soap on his skin and the lingering