Keep Her Close. M.J. Ford

his own history, she knew little. He’d grown up in Somerset, and the accent remained. His parents, who had separated when he was seven, were both dead. He had a sister, in New Zealand now, with whom he spoke a handful of times a year. His friends in Oxford were mostly in the same line of work. He wanted, ultimately, to own his own landscaping company, but he was in no rush. At twenty-eight, Jo hadn’t been either.

      She wondered, in moments of self-doubt, what he thought of her. Over a decade older, weighed down by the pressures of work, one seriously failed romantic life behind her. She hadn’t told him about the counselling, not because she was ashamed of it, but because it might have meant talking more about what had happened that night in Sally Carruthers’ barn. Anyone with eyes and ears to take in the news was aware of the basics, of course. She and Lucas had met during the case – he’d been a helpful witness in the search for a suspect. But it hadn’t been until four weeks after, and the bruises had faded, that he’d left a message through the front desk, that his offer of a drink was still open. Dimitriou had overheard, and found it hilarious. And though every instinct had screamed at Jo that it was a bad time, she had taken him up on it, having run a thorough criminal record check, of course. She couldn’t help herself. Besides, Lucas was as clean as they came. The fact he looked like a Greek God cast away on a sun-kissed desert island helped.

      She finished her wine and put the glass by the sink with the empty bowl of pineapple. Peeling off her clothes in the bedroom, which smelled faintly of smoke too, she walked naked to the bathroom door. It was thick with steam inside, but she could make out the shape of Lucas in the shower. For a moment, she remembered Malin’s bloody handprint across her mirror.

      Pulling back the shower curtain, she climbed in behind him stealthily, then threaded a hand over his rib cage and taut stomach, making him jump.

      ‘Now you’re scaring me,’ he said, turning and pulling her towards him, into the flow of hot water.

      She ran her fingers through his hair, and kissed him tenderly, glad to be free of her thoughts – for a little while, at least.