He switched the car off and pulled on the hand brake. “Just let me get Josh out of the car seat and I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Don’t disturb him. He’s sleeping so peacefully,” she said softly, turning to look at his son in the baby seat. “And don’t lock him in either—just stay with him. It’s about eight feet to my front door. Honestly, I’ll be fine. I do it all the time.”
Chivalry fought with fathering instincts—could he let a woman walk to her door alone, even if it was only a few steps away? But he looked at Josh in the rearview mirror, and fatherhood won. And perhaps avoiding a doorstep scene was wise—this might not be a date, but would he be able to resist kissing her?
He turned back to Lucy. “Once you’re inside with the door locked, call my cell. I’ll wait right here till I hear from you.”
“That’s very sweet,” she said.
Sweet? He almost laughed. She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew the thoughts that were currently bombarding him. Thoughts about the things he’d like to do with her, starting with peeling those clothes off her body, piece by piece. Underneath he knew she’d be luscious and petal-soft....
He cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind of its impure thoughts at the same time. It didn’t work. Distraction, that was the key. He needed to say something, preferably about a neutral topic. “Thank you for today—Josh had a great time.”
“I had a good time, too,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her mouth suddenly seemed so close, and he began to lean in before summoning his control and pausing. As she realized his intent, her pupils dilated. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered like crazy. Still, he held—not leaning in farther, but not able to move away. Her moist, full lips were slightly parted, inviting him. A groan worked its way up from deep in his chest. Desire like this, that consumed, engulfed, had been absent from his life for a long time. He wanted nothing more than to give in to it, grasp it with both hands, to grasp Lucy with both hands and sink into the sensations she evoked in him.
But he couldn’t let his guard down and think of her as a woman. He had an investigation to run and involvement with Lucy Royall would compromise his objectivity. Compromise him. He was ethically bound to keep emotional distance between them.
He clenched his jaw tight and leaned slow, excruciating inches back.
“Hayden?” she asked breathlessly.
He gripped the steering wheel until his fingers hurt, trying to anchor himself to something. “Yes?”
“Were you about to kiss me?”
His heart stuttered to a stop. He should have known Lucy wasn’t the type of woman to let things lie, to choose the sensible path. “There was a moment, before I thought better of it,” he admitted.
“I wish you had.” She said the words softly, but there was no flirtation in them—they were honestly delivered and all the more powerful for it. Desire still tugged hard in the pit of his belly, demanding that he follow through and kiss her, but he couldn’t give in. Wouldn’t.
He muttered a curse and closed his eyes to limit the number of senses being assaulted at once. “Don’t say that.”
“But it’s the truth,” she said, her Southern accent thick. He opened his eyes in time to see her pink tongue peek out and moisten those lips that drove him crazy. “I’ve been wondering what kissing you would be like.”
“Lucy, don’t.” There was a harshness in his voice that he hated, but was powerless to help. He was on the edge; every muscle vibrated with the effort of holding them still. If she pushed much further, he’d consign his ethics to hell and reach for her.
“What sort of kisser are you, Hayden?” She turned in the seat, facing him, pupils large in the dim light. “Soft and gentle? Strong and demanding?”
He groaned and banged his head back on the headrest. Was she trying to kill him? “This can’t happen,” he growled. “I can’t compromise my objectivity.”
“What if I never tell?” Her voice was pure temptation, full of invitation and delicious promise, making his thundering heart thump even harder in his chest. For a moment, he wondered...could he? A shudder ripped through him. Could he? He glanced out the window, seeking a sign, maybe permission.
Instead he saw a fashionable D.C. street, and it struck him with the force of a blow.
D.C.
He was in this town to do a job. He’d been employed by Congress, damn it.
He scrubbed his hands down his face and refocused on what was important, then turned to Lucy to make sure she understood, as well. “I’d still know. And things would be different between us.”
One corner of her mouth curved up into a half smile. “You don’t think they’ll be different after this conversation?”
“You’ll notice I tried to stop this conversation before it started.”
“Oops,” she said and bit down on her lip, looking anything but sorry. “What should we do now?”
“Pretend it never happened.” It was the only option left.
There was silence for long seconds as she watched him with a small line between her eyebrows. “And if I can’t?”
“We don’t talk about it.” He slashed a hand down to rest on his thigh, hoping he appeared more decisive than he felt. “Never let the topic come up again.”
“Can you do that?”
“Yes.” Sure, he could avoid mentioning it, but the look on her face now in the dim light of the car interior would be burned into his memory, and there was nothing he could do to avoid thinking about kissing her. Dreaming about it.
She picked up her hold-all handbag from the floor and held it close to her chest. “I should probably go inside.”
“Yes,” he croaked. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, that would be best all around.”
“Okay, then.” She opened the car door with only a brief glance over her shoulder.
By sheer force of will, he let her walk up the three concrete stairs to her front door instead of drawing her back, keeping her beside him for even a few moments longer. Once she’d let herself in, he dropped his head to the steering wheel and cursed. He’d been stupid, stupid to let his guard down and consider kissing a key witness. What kind of investigator was he?
His cell phone rang and Lucy’s number flashed on the screen. He drew in a fortifying breath and thumbed the talk button. “You’re in?”
“Safe inside, with the door locked.” Her voice was smooth velvet, enfolding him in the dim lamplight. His eyes drifted closed, shrinking his world down to just the cell at his ear and Lucy’s voice.
“Good,” he said, which was about all he could manage.
“Hayden, about that conversation we shouldn’t have had...”
He knew he should hang up the phone now, knew he would regret this, but he couldn’t stop himself from replying. “Yes?”
“I’m glad we did.” He could just imagine her biting down on her luscious bottom lip as she paused, and his pulse spiked. “Though I would have been even happier if you had kissed me.”
His head swam. Hang up the cell, Black.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and summoned his willpower. “Good night, Lucy.”
“Night, Hayden.”
He disconnected, threw the phone on the passenger seat and started the car. If he wasn’t careful, this investigation might just kill him.
* * *
Three nights later, Lucy was in Hayden’s suite, sitting cross-legged on one of the sofas, reams of paper, scribbled notes and printed photos spread around her. Hayden sat on the other sofa a few feet away, his long legs stretched in front of him, ankles crossed on the coffee table, going through a different pile of evidence.
Hayden glanced up at her, his hair haphazard from dragging his fingers through it. “Did you talk to the receptionists?”
Over the past three days, Lucy had spent time with everyone she could corner who worked in support roles at ANS—people who might have had the opportunity to notice things that didn’t add up, and would hav
e been treated badly by Marnie and her friends. Today she’d asked Graham’s secretary, Jessica, to have lunch with her and the other executive assistants, after telling her that being Graham’s daughter was making it hard to make friends.
“I heard a lot of gossip about who’s sleeping with whom—I had no idea it was that much like a college dorm.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Any interesting connections?”
“Why? Fancy someone at ANS?” she asked with as much innocence as she could muster.
The heat that had been lurking in his eyes for three days blazed to life, but his voice was even. “I was thinking in terms of the investigation. Which you knew.”
She did know, but flirting with Hayden Black was dangerously alluring. Like touching a naked flame.
“If we’re talking about the investigation, then apparently Marnie had a fling with Mitch Davis. Since we don’t think Mitch had anything to do with the story besides being handed the toast to give at the inauguration ball, it’s probably not relevant.”
“Ames or Hall sleeping with anyone?”
“Brandon Ames was seeing one of the accountants, but she dumped him when she found out what he’d done. And I’m not sure if an accountant would have been much use with phone hacking, so I doubt she was involved.”
“Hall?” he asked, leaning forward.
“No one had heard anything. If he was seeing someone, it was probably outside ANS.”
Hayden swore under his breath. “Maybe it was too much to hope for a sexual link to lead us to the other perpetrators. But thanks for trying.”
“I’ve made friends with one of the custodians—or rather, Rosebud has—and I’m hoping to run into her tomorrow night again. She might know something about any late-night meetings that other people wouldn’t notice.”
“Rosebud comes in handy,” he said dryly, and she wondered if he realized she’d used Rosie to start a conversation that first day in the park.
She smiled noncommittally. “She sure does.”
Connections with other journalists came in handy, too—she’d heard back this morning from a friend she’d graduated with who’d gone on to work for a New York newspaper. Lucy had asked him to poke around and see if he could find any secrets in Hayden’s past for Graham’s exposé. Her friend had dug up someone who knew Hayden’s in-laws. Seemed they weren’t his biggest fans. They’d wanted their daughter to marry someone of her own class, not a boy—then in the military—who’d come from nowhere. The only thing they were happy about was that he’d put the money he’d inherited from his deceased wife into a trust fund for Josh. Nothing particularly explosive for the story, but her background research folder was growing.
Lucy sifted through more of the papers around her, documents she’d already read, searching for an evasive clue, until Hayden looked up sharply.
“Did you know Angelica wears contacts?”
“Doesn’t surprise me, but no.” And now that she thought about it, Angelica’s eyes were an unusual shade of blue—almost aqua.
He laid down the papers in his hand and picked up his coffee mug. “Why doesn’t it surprise you?”
“She’s vain, and very careful about letting anyone see her unless she’s wearing a full face of makeup. The other on-air journalists are always immaculately presented when they go on camera, but off air they’re more casual.”
He returned the mug to the coffee table. “It probably doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t trust her.”
“Well, I sure don’t trust her,” Lucy said. She’d seen her being nasty and vindictive—experienced it herself—far too many times for that. “Do you think she could be involved?”
“Could be, but it’s unlikely.” There was a definite note of frustration in his voice. “If she’d found the leads, would she let Ames and Hall take the credit? She’s ambitious and it was the biggest story of the year—surely she’d want her name attached.”
He was right, which left them back at square one. Well, not exactly square one, because they’d eliminated some leads. Putting her hands in the small of her back, she stretched, trying to get rid of some of the kinks that sitting on the sofa had created. From the corner of her eye she noticed Hayden subtly watching and her pulse picked up speed. She turned her head a fraction, just enough to let him know she’d noticed. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze intensified. Her mouth dried and she moistened her lips—he watched that, too. Then, oh, so slowly, he drew in a breath and looked away, dissolving the tension that had risen. She steadied herself and followed his lead. Falling under Hayden Black’s thrall was a bad, bad idea for her sanity.
What was she supposed to be doing? The investigation. Who else could have been helping Troy and Brandon if it wasn’t Angelica. Right.
She rubbed her hands over her face, hoping it would help her focus. “If someone else is involved, it makes more sense that they’re more senior, not just another reporter.”
He riffled through a pile of reports until he found a chart she’d drawn two nights ago. “Tell me again about who was supposed to be managing Ames and Hall.”
She scooted over to his sofa and looked at the chart illuminated in soft lamplight. Heat emanated from his body. “This is the line of responsibility.” She reached across and touched a fingertip to the paper he held, and as she did, the sensitive underside of her wrist grazed lightly over crisp hairs on his forearm. A shiver ran up her spine.
She heard a sharply indrawn breath and looked to see his gaze locked on her, his eyes darkened with the same need she felt. For a charged moment, neither of them moved, and the only sound she heard was the pounding of her heart. He was so close—a whisper away.
“Lucy, we can’t.” His voice was torn from his throat.
Hearing he was as close to the edge as she was had the opposite effect from what he’d intended. She’d never been good at following rules, or doing what she was told. The day’s stubble on his cheeks beckoned, and she ran her fingertips across it to see what it felt like, what he felt like. His jaw was clenched so hard that a muscle in the corner jumped.
“I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to touch you,” she said, watching the path her fingers traveled over his jaw. “In fact, I wished for it.”
He winced as if in pain. “You should be more careful about what you wish for.”
“I was careful,” she murmured. Her fingertips feathered along the strong column of his throat. “I’m wishing for it again right now.”
He stilled, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “I swear, Lucy, you’d try the patience of a saint.” His gaze fell to her lips. “And I hate to admit it, but I’m no saint.” Finally, his hands crept under her hair to cradle the nape of her neck, lightly massaging, sending a spray of fireworks across her skin.
“No regrets yet,” she said, though she wasn’t sure her voice was strong enough for him to hear. He leaned in, his body tense, and his lips brushed across hers, the softest of caresses, yet enough to leave her trembling.
“Hayden,” she whispered with all the need inside her. A shudder ripped through his body. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her, the warm pressure of his mouth like nothing she’d ever felt. When his tongue moved against hers, the shimmering heat exploded inside her, and she crawled onto his lap. It still wasn’t close enough. At last, after all these days of hoping and nights of dreaming, Hayden was kissing her. Hungrily. Gloriously. And she was melting.
On a groan, he wrenched his mouth away and they both gasped to find their breath again, but she didn’t stop touching. Couldn’t. The skin on his neck, below where the stubble ended, was surprisingly smooth and oh, so warm. She pushed her fingers down past the collar of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel the strength of his shoulders, to know how they’d taste. But before she could make much headway, he brought her mouth back to his.
“This is a bad idea,” he murmured, lightly kissing the edges of her lips, lingering at the corner of her mouth.
He ir
oned a hand down her back and her pulse jerked erratically. “A very bad idea,” she agreed with a catch in her voice.
“But damned if I don’t want to do it anyway.” He cupped her face and the fine tremor that ran through his hands created an answering shiver that spread through her whole body.
“Oh, yes. Me, too,” she moaned.
He cursed under his breath, then gave a rueful half laugh. “I was hoping you’d be the sensible one.”
She caught his earlobe between her teeth and gently nipped. “There’s no fun in being sensible all the time.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” he said as he laid her down on the sofa, pressing her into the cushions with his body. He kissed along her throat. “But if we do this—”
“If?” she said incredulously, desire scorching along her skin at every point Hayden’s body touched hers.
He lifted his weight on hands that rested at either side of her head. “If we do this, we have to agree on a couple of ground rules first.”
“Anything.” She reached for him, trying to get him to bring his delicious heat back.
He didn’t move. “I’m serious, Lucy.”
“I can see that,” she conceded on a sigh and wriggled to sit up. Seemed they were having a conversation whether she wanted to or not.
Five
“So, ground rules,” Lucy said, her hands pressing against Hayden’s chest as they sat entwined on the sofa. For the moment, ignoring her body’s insistent straining toward him was her best option so they could get the talking part of the night over as quickly as possible. Then they could get back to the part where he was kissing her. She went a little dizzy just thinking about it.
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