Northern Lights by Nora Roberts Page B

was her husband, David, standing beside her, gently rubbing the small of her back.
    He saw her laugh at something the receptionist from the clinic said to her. And he saw the way she looked up, met her husband's eyes. He saw the warmth of love beat between them, and he felt cold, felt alone.
    He'd never had a woman look at him like that. Even when he'd been married, the woman he'd thought was his had never looked at him with that open, unrestricted love.
    He looked away from them.
    His eyes scanned the crowd as cop's eyes do—measuring, detailing, filing. It was the sort of thing that kept him apart, and he knew it. It was the sort of thing he couldn't stop doing.
    He saw Ed, and the allegedly snooty Arlene. Mitch of KLUN, with his streaky blond hair in a ponytail, and his arm around a girl who wasn't as pretty as he was. Ken was wearing a Hawaiian lei and having a lively discussion with The Professor, who wore his usual tweed.
    Fellowship, Nate thought. Some of it drunken at this point, but it was still fellowship. And he was Outside.
    He caught a hit of Charlene's perfume, but she followed up on it too fast for him to brace or evade. Curvy female was wrapped around him, warm, glossy lips were sliding silky over his, with a sly hint of tongue. His ass was stroked and squeezed, his bottom lip gently nipped.
    Then Charlene slithered off, smiled sleepily at him. "Happy New Year, Nate. That was just in case I can't get my hands on you at midnight."
    He couldn't quite form a word and was half afraid he might be blushing. He wondered if her obvious, and inappropriate, come-on had pushed embarrassment through the black.
    "Just where have you been hiding?" She laced her arms around his neck. "Party's been in gear more than an hour, and you haven't danced with me."
    "I had . . . things."
    "Work, work, work. Why don't you come play with me?"
    "I need to speak with the mayor." Please, God, help me.
    "Oh, this isn't the time for town politics. It's a party. Come on, dance with me. Then we'll have some champagne."
    "I really need to deal with this." He put his hands on her hips, hoping to nudge her back out of intimacy range, and searched the crowd for Hopp—his savior. His gaze struck, and locked onto Meg's.
    She gave him that slow, two-step smile, and lifted the glass she held in a mock toast.
    Then dancing couples whirled in front of her, and she was gone.
    "I'll take a rain check. I—" He spotted a familiar face, and latched on like a drowning man. "Otto. Charlene wants to dance."
    Before either of them could speak, Nate was beating a fast retreat. He made it to the other side of the room before he risked taking a breath.
    "Funny, you don't look like a coward."
    Meg stepped up beside him. She held two glasses now.
    "Then looks are deceiving. She scares me to death."
    "I won't say Charlene's harmless, because she's anything but. Still, if you don't want her tongue down your throat, you're going to need to say so. Loud, clear, in words of one syllable. Here. Got you a drink."
    "I'm on duty."
    She snorted. "I don't think a glass of cheap champagne's going to change that. Hell, Burke. Just about every soul in Lunacy's right here."
    "Got a point." He took the glass, but he didn't drink. He did, however, manage to focus on her. She was wearing a dress. He supposed the technical term was dress for the skin of hot red painted on her. It showed off that tight, athletic body he'd imagined in ways that might have been illegal in several jurisdictions. She'd left her hair down. Black rain to milk-white shoulders. Sky-high heels the same color as the dress showcased slim, muscular legs.
    She smelled like cool, secret shadows.
    "You look amazing."
    "I clean up good if the occasion warrants it. You, on the other hand, look tired." And wounded, she thought. That's how he'd struck her when she'd seen him come down the stairs. Like a man who knew there was a huge, gaping wound somewhere on his body, but didn't have the energy to find it.
    "Haven't