Page 53 of Peak’s Code

“What do you need?” she asked.

“The truth.”

Maeve’s gaze searched his. “About what?”

“Last night.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t look away. “What about it?”

“Tell me it wasn’t something you did because you were scared or lonely,” he begged.

She took her time before answering. “I was scared.” Peak waited. “And I was lonely.” His chest tightened. “But that isn’t why.”

The pressure eased. “Why, then?”

Maeve’s thumb moved across the back of his hand. “Because I wanted you.” The honesty in her voice stripped away the last of his uncertainty. “I still do,” she added quietly. Peak wanted to kiss her. He wanted to drag her closer, roll her beneath him, and forget every danger waiting outside the room. Instead, he touched his forehead to hers; there would be time for everything else, or he would damn well make time.

“I wanted you too,” he said.

“You made that fairly obvious.”

He laughed. “There’s that smart mouth.”

“You like my smart mouth,” she teased.

“More than I should.” Maeve relaxed against him again and for several minutes, neither spoke.

Peak listened to the rain and felt her breathing gradually settle. The motel room was cold without power, but the blanket and the warmth of her body made it bearable. He should have been checking the parking lot, examining the coded message Captain had brought, or figuring out whether his bike was still transmitting a location signal. Instead, he allowed himself to stay where he was—just for a few minutes.

Maeve broke the silence. “Tell me about your house.”

Peak frowned. “My house?”

“You said you inherited it.”

“I did,” he said.

“What’s it like?”

“Too big.”

“That isn’t a description,” she insisted.

He sighed. “It’s an old estate house near the water.”

“How old?”

“Mid-eighteen-hundreds.”

Maeve lifted her head. “You live in a mansion?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” he said.

“How many bedrooms does it have?” she asked.

Peak hesitated. “Eight.”

She stared at him. “Eight bedrooms”