Wicked All Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

me?”
    â€œ
Meow.
”
    â€œDon’t look at me like that. I fed you before I left. I didn’t leave you for that long.” When the cat meowed again, she sighed. “Give me a minute, and we’ll go to bed. Why you can’t find the bed without me is a mystery.”
    As Decker grinned, she started across the floor again, and the click of her shoes progressed past the guest room and down the hall. In the master bedroom, he heard the smart tap of her heels stop before she dropped them on the floor and moaned in relief.
    A minute later, he heard her set something on a hard surface with a gentle plop, then a door closed. The shower began to run.
    Rachel was going to get naked. Fuck if that didn’t turn him on all over again.
    Decker yanked his brains out of his jeans and waited about sixty seconds before he crept from the closet. No sign of her. He heard the water splashing inside the stall and the sound of her singing a peppy, upbeat pop tune about someone calling her maybe. He couldn’t fight the grin on his face as he made his way into her bedroom.
    Here was a good place to start his search for clues. The cat lounged on the bed and raised his head with a yawn. Damn hairball got to sleep with Rachel tonight. Hell yeah, he was jealous.
    Hustling across the room, he found her phone on her nightstand. No password protection. He shook his head and accessed her texts. It didn’t take long to scroll through them. A message from Shonda earlier in the day detailing her party at the nightclub. Her mother asking whether she’d be coming home for Thanksgiving. Her neighbor begging her to cat-sit. Decker yawned until he came to Owen. It didn’t take him long to surmise that this was the name of her ex-barfbag, and didn’t he sound like a real fun guy.
    Did you take my box of books in the closet of my study when you left? I am missing several crucial texts relating to relativistic quantum fields, two-level atoms, and condensed matter.
    He was a physicist? Wow, if Rachel went for the studious type, Decker figured he wouldn’t last long with her. Of course she’d claimed she was thrilled he wasn’t into such things . . . But from about the tenth grade on, he’d devoted himself to T
&
A
.
    After a brief stint as a juvenile delinquent, he’d graduated from high school and joined the military. His dad wasn’t around to care, and his mom had been too exhausted working three jobs to say much. Since he had an aptitude for fighting and sneaking around, he’d gotten into Special Ops, which eventually led to a stint with the CIA. All that had made him get his shit together, but he was never going to be a bookworm.
    He glanced through Rachel’s exchange with her ex. It was a lot of blah, blah, blah. Owen was on the short list for the Wolf Prize in Physics, whatever that was, and he had notes in those texts he needed. Everything was pretty civil until, after looking for the books again, Owen insisted that she must be lying. He asked sharply if she was trying to sabotage his career, hinting that she’d always resented his work.
    Rachel had stopped responding at that point. Decker wished she’d told the asshole to get fucked.
    Less than an hour later, Owen had texted her some stiff, stupid-ass apology, saying that he’d found his textbooks—and he didn’t appreciate her impolite lack of response, but he wasn’t surprised in the least.
    As evidence went, it was thin. A DA would find it circumstantial at best, but the divorce, coupled with this kind of stuff, might add up to motive.
    With a frown, Decker placed the phone back where he’d found it, then peeked inside her nightstand.
Well, well, well
 . . . Under a wrist brace and an old copy of
Vogue
, he found a battery-operated clit stimulator, a slender vibe that would be too weak to really get her off, and an electronic reader chock-full of BDSM romances. So beautiful Miss