Stop Me by Brenda Novak Page A

she identified so deeply with Fornier’s background? Because she admired his courage and resourcefulness, sympathized with the regret he dragged around like a ball and chain? She’d married Harvey out of obligation, overwhelming gratitude and the desire for companionship. The two relationships she’d had after her brief marriage had afforded the same benefits. But never raw desire. Nothing half as potent as this sudden and confusing attraction to a troubled stranger.
    Curling her fingers into her palms, she fought his effect on her. “Sorry, I don’t use sex as a bargaining chip.”
    That cynical grin returned. “Somehow I thought you were going to say that.”
    “I like things simple.”
    “No, you like them safe.”
    “No safer than you.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because you don’t really want what you just asked for.” A scowl creased his forehead. “Wanna bet?”
    “If you did, you wouldn’t have asked for it in that way.”
    “You don’t even know me.”
    “What are the odds of a woman agreeing to what you suggested?”
    “There’s always a chance.”
    “But you provided yourself with an escape hatch.” He leaned against the wall. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “Just in case I surprised you and happened to agree, you set up the encounter to be so mechanical it wouldn’t be any different than carrying on as you’ve probably carried on so far.” She gestured with her hand so that he got her point, which provoked a genuine-sounding laugh.
    “It’d be a lot different. I promise.”
    As far as she was concerned, Satan himself couldn’t have been more alluring.
    She was actually beginning to wonder if one night really mattered. The desire to soothe a soul even more damaged than her own was strangely appealing.
    But indulging in that kind of intimacy would be a mistake. She doubted he’d let her comfort him, anyway. He was too busy proving he didn’t need anyone.
    She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be good.”
    His grin slanted to one side. “Try me.”
    She wanted to do just that. But it was too reckless, too irresponsible to give in to that urge. “Tempting but not tempting enough.” 55

    Releasing a dramatic sigh, he rubbed a hand over his stubble-covered jaw. “So we’re back to your sister, right?”
    “Right.”
    She knew he wasn’t really disappointed. He’d been testing her, using sex to create a diversion, at the least, an escape at the most.
    “What is it you want to know?” he asked.
    “Tell me about Moreau.”
    “His house was a couple of miles from ours in the Garden District. He lived alone, kept to himself.” His monotone suggested he was attempting to distance himself from the subject. “He had a prior arrest record for molesting a little girl when he was about twenty and a young teen when he was twenty-five, but no convictions.
    He was as twisted as they come and, although I’m the first to admit I was wrong for doing what I did, society should thank me for the favor. That’s it.”
    “Any other suspects?”
    “A few. But there was no physical proof that any of them had my daughter in his house.”
    Jasmine sat on the bed. “Are you angry at Huff for bungling the search?”
    “No. Huff took a calculated risk—and lost.”
    “Which meant you lost, too.”
    “Without the physical proof he discovered, there wouldn’t have been enough evidence to charge Moreau in the first place.”
    “The cops couldn’t have got what they needed in the morning, after the judge signed the affidavit?”
    “Moreau had seen Huff watching his place earlier in the day. He was already spooked and would’ve burned it or gotten rid of it somehow.” A muscle twitched in Fornier’s cheek. “It was the system that failed me, not Huff. A proven predator’s rights turned out to be more important to the state than an innocent child’s.” She heard that sentiment often in her line of work. “Was anyone else privy to all the details of the case?”
    “Like