He stilled, his muscles tensing under her body. She slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.
“I love you,” she repeated.
He grinned, his face lighting up with joy. “I love you, too.”
She cleared her throat, ready to spill her sordid past to him. Her throat tightened with fear and she kissed him instead.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” He brushed the hair away from her eyes.
“What?” she breathed.
“I’m going to make love to you all night long.”
***
The cell phone chirped and vibrated. Sloan blinked his eyes open and slapped his hand across the nightstand trying to locate the blasted thing.
His hand made contact and he snatched the phone up.
Seven o’clock. The number was the police department.
It was his day off. Why would work be calling this early on his day off?
“Hello?”
“Sloan. You need to get down to the police station right away.” The police chief’s voice held an edge of uncertainty.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“A lot.”
“All right. I’m at Grace’s . . .”
“Bring her too.”
“Is this about the case against Chris Meadowbrook?”
“Yes and no. Just get to the station ASAP.”
***
“I don’t understand. What’s this all about?” Grace wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
“I guess we’ll find out once we walk in.” He gave her a reassuring smile and laced his fingers through hers.
They walked through the front door. Grace froze. It looked like the whole town was crammed into the police station, all trying to talk at once. She met Felicia’s gaze.
Felicia’s eyes widened. A slow smirk spread across her mouth.
Grace’s heart stuttered in her chest. Something wasn’t right.
“All right, all right. Everyone simmer down.” The police chief yelled through the bullhorn he snatched off the receptionist’s desk. Everyone covered their ears and cringed. He lowered the bullhorn and cleared his throat.
“Listen up, people. This doesn’t involve the whole town so everyone needs to get on home.” The police chief motioned for everyone to leave.
“It most certainly does involve our town. That’s why I told everyone to come today.” Felicia shot him a glare.
Chief pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath.
“You see, we have a criminal living among us,” Felicia yelled.
Everyone gasped and looked at each other. Grace’s stomach hit the floor. The coffee that Sloan had made was threatening to come right back up.
“And she is right there.” Felicia pointed her perfectly manicured finger at Grace.
Grace couldn’t breathe as the blood drained from her face.
“Felicia, shut up. No one wants to hear your lies.” Sloan took a step forward. Grace couldn’t move, her limbs were like concrete.
“It’s not a lie. See?” She held out a pamphlet.
Grace’s heart stopped as she recognized the familiar piece of paper. It was a pamphlet from the New York Ballet.
“I brought this back from one of my trips to New York. It’s a pamphlet from one of the ballets I watched. And it has a Miss Jennifer Montclair as one of the dancers.”
Grace’s head felt light and she swayed against Sloan. He wrapped his hand around her to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“You see, our Grace Witherspoon is not who she says she is. Her name is not even Grace Witherspoon. It’s Jennifer Montclair.” She stared at Grace. “Isn’t that right?”
Everyone turned their accusing eyes on Grace.
“I also took the liberty to do a little digging to see why someone would change her name. As it turns out, Grace, I mean Jennifer faked her own death.”
“Grace?” Sloan’s hand slid away from her and he took a step back. “Tell her that’s not true.”
She met his gaze. “I can’t.”
The crowd erupted. The chief grabbed the bullhorn and tried to calm everyone down to no avail.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me for help?” Sloan’s hand dropped from her waist. He stared down at her with hardened eyes.
“I couldn’t. I was scared.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth tasted like ashes.
“I’m a cop, remember? My job is protecting people.” His gaze bore into her soul.
“I realize that. But it goes deeper.”
He took a step back. “I’ll say. You just don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone.” Her voice wavered.
“I see that.” He shook his head, hurt etched across his handsome face. “I’m a fool. I guess what we had wasn’t real.”
She couldn’t move. She felt dead inside. She didn’t care that the entire town hated her, that didn’t’ matter. What mattered was she just lost Sloan.
“Miss Witherspoon, err Montclair, whoever you are.” The chief laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you some questions.”
“I know.” She swallowed and looked into Sloan’s hurt-filled eyes.
“I think it’s safe to say you’re not to leave town until we straighten this out.”
She met his gaze. “Where would I go?”