Fatal Justice by Marie Force Page A

late,” she said, her voice hoarse and sexy from sleep.
    “I tried to call, but I guess you couldn’t hear the phone over Bon Jovi.”
    She flashed him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
    Trailing a finger lightly over the bandage on her chin, he studied her face. “What happened?”
    “Me versus black ice. The ice won.”
    He winced.
    She tugged two badly bruised and scraped elbows out from underneath the comforter.
    “Ouch.” Dropping soft kisses on each elbow, he said, “Did you have X-rays?”
    “Nah. Nothing broken.” She made a brave attempt to bend each arm to prove her point. “Stop. That’s making me hurt just watching it. Anything else?”
    “Knees. Same as the elbows.”
    “Samantha, my poor baby.” He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “Did you put something on the road rash?”
    “Celia fixed me up.”
    “So this was really just you and some ice?”
    “Uh-huh,” she said, looking away.
    “You can either tell me the truth or I’ll tickle it out of you, which, in light of your injuries, might not be as fun as usual.”
    “You wouldn’t do that to an officer wounded in the line of duty.”
    He raised his fingers in a menacing claw over her ribs. “Try me.”
    “Fine! I was chasing Reese. He came back to his house when Freddie and I were doing another walk through.”
    “Without backup?” Nick asked, alarmed.
    “I had Freddie. Do you want to hear this or not?”
    He gestured for her to go ahead, and she told him the rest.
    “He fired at you?”
    “It was a wild shot. Missed by a mile.” Nick put his head down face first into his pillow and groaned.
    “I heard that, and you made me tell you.”
    Turning on his side, he faced her. “You wouldn’t have, though, would you?”
    Her eyebrows knitted with confusion. “What?”
    “You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t forced it out of you.”
    “I don’t like to upset you, and my job can be upsetting. I’m fine, so what’s the point in dumping it on you and getting you all wound up?”
    Reaching for her hand, he laced his fingers through hers. “The point is I want to know. If you get shot at or hurt in any way, I want to know. Deal?”
    “You promise not to freak? That was kind of an issue with Peter. I never told him anything because he always freaked out. But then he would find out from someone else, and that was always worse.”
    “I can’t promise not to be upset, but I won’t freak. At least not at you.”
    “Or anyone else from the MPD.”
    He hesitated.
    “Nick…”
    “Or anyone else from the MPD, unless—”
    She silenced him with a kiss. “No unless. We have a deal.”
    “Where’d you get this?” He held up the book she’d been reading and couldn’t believe it when his brave, competent cop blushed.
    “You weren’t supposed to see that.” She took the book from him and dropped it to the floor.
    Careful to avoid her injured chin, he gently turned her face to force her to look at him and raised an eyebrow in question.
    Sighing in defeat, she said, “I’ve lived in this city all my life, just a mile from the Capitol, but I don’t really know what goes on there.”
    “I could tell you.”
    “I wanted to be able to talk to you about it,” she said with a shy glance that staggered him. “I wanted to know what your day would be like.”
    His heart galloped in his chest as he brushed his lips over hers. “I love you,” he whispered and was thrilled when her mouth opened under his to welcome him in. Her injured arms encircled his neck, and Nick sank into the kiss. “So what did you learn?” he asked many minutes later as he sprinkled kisses over her face.
    “That a filibuster is a technique used to prolong debate in order to stop or postpone a vote,” she said with a proud smile. “I’ve always wondered what that was.” Her smile transformed into the coy grin he loved so much. “Do you think you’ll ever get to filibuster?”
    “I don’t know,” he said, laughing. “I suppose if desperate times