Raven's Cove - Jenna Ryan by Intrigue Romance Read Free Book Online

night.
    A glance at her cell put the time at 12:05 a.m., five minutes into the witching hour in a town where legends ruled and ravens sacrificed feathers to convey death messages.
    Securing her blowing hair, she glanced at Rogan. “Can we take this inside? I assume Daniel’s not here or you’d have mentioned it.”
    “He’s not here. Is there a hotel in town?” Rogan asked Boxman.
    “There’s a house with rooms. Birdwoman of Alcatraz runs it. I met her earlier tonight in a bar called the Raven’s Perch. House sits on a cliff on the east edge of town, but if you decide to crash here instead, we could always make it a party.” He offered a wicked smile. “It’ll be like old times, minus the irritating nits.”
    Nits, Jasmine recalled, was his term for anyone who adhered too closely to the rules. Like Rogan, Boxman preferred to fly solo. Unfortunately, as far as she knew, he’d never been allowed to do so.
    It took her a moment to identify the sensation settling over her as disappointment. Did that mean she’d wanted to be stranded with Rogan? Alone? That she hadn’t really come here to find Daniel? “Do I even want to know?” she muttered in disgust to herself. Catching Rogan’s eye, she summoned a smile. “Tired.”
    He held her gaze for a moment, then set a hand on her back and steered her toward the door.
    Maybe Boxman’s presence was a plus, she mused. Because one touch from the man behind her, and her good sense was already threatening to fly out the window.
    Rogan passed a flashlight over her shoulder. “Boxman’s checking the backyard sheds for a generator.”
    On the threshold and resigned, Jasmine played her beam over stack after precarious stack of newspapers, magazines and books.
    She moved with care along the narrow pathways. “Trust me, this is Daniel’s idea of organized.”
    “A pack rat with a system, huh?”
    “It was one of our many differences. My mother was, for lack of a better term, a collector until the day she flew off on her retirement adventure. I spent my childhood learning to appreciate the value of empty space.”
    “So it makes sense you’d marry a man who’d fill it up again.”
    “Or bury the secret in his parents’ basement until we got back from our honeymoon in not-sunny Spain. Within days, a moving van carrying half a million books showed up on our doorstep, and it occurred to me there might have been one or two questions I’d neglected to ask.” Angling her beam upward, Jasmine sighed. “Like how many journalists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”
    Rogan perused the overflowing phone desk. “You trusted Daniel to be truthful. Be glad he didn’t have a deeper, darker secret stashed in that basement.”
    She didn’t realize he’d left the desk until she felt his knuckles graze her cheek.
    “You smell like tropical flowers, Jasmine. I’ve never figured out which ones, but I’ve always thought I’d be able to pick you out of a crowd by your scent alone.” Easing her hair aside, he bared her neck. “Do you want me to make Boxman disappear?”
    Did guns have triggers? “I don’t think…” she began, then caught her breath as he kissed the sensitive spot below her earlobe.
    “I’ve missed you, love. You’re in my head every night when I try to sleep.”
    Although her mind wanted to haze, she held tight to her last thread of reason. “Night turns to day, Rogan, every time. Moon and stars vanish and take you with them into the great unknown. The only time I knew you’d be there without fail was at the safe house. And even then I understood why you were training Boris. You’d leave, he’d stay, and that would be the end of it. It’ll be the end again when this mess we’re in now is sorted out. I’m not going to live my life on a carousel that you come to and go from whenever a situation requires your attention.”
    Rogan didn’t push her, but he didn’t move away, either. “What about Boxman?”
    “What about him? He’s here, we’re