by Karen Kelley
White stone pillars gave the small, commercial building a more prestigious appearance. She bit her bottom lip. Some of the ceiling tiles needed to be changed—water damage, but the owner had replaced the roof. A couple of the interior walls had rather large, gaping holes, though. In fact, the inside of the building needed a major overhaul. Personally, she thought the asking price a little steep, but the facts remained: it was in a prime location, the Texas town was growing, and this district had the fastest rate of improvement.
Only one teensy-tiny problem. The eyesore across the street. Triple X’s flashed on the marquee of what used to be an old movie theater. If that wasn’t bad enough, three scantily clad ladies had arrived a few minutes ago to stand on the corner. She grimaced. That wasn’t good.
At least there were only three this evening. Two blondes, and she wasn’t positive, but the third hooker’s hair color looked deep purple. The one in question raised her hand and waved.
As unobtrusively as possible, Jessica motioned for them to leave. One cast her a grin and flashed a little leg. Great. She could see her sale gurgling as it choked its way down the drain.
Oh lord, he was probably staring at them right now. Maybe she could redirect his attention away from the women of the night, and focus it on the property once again.
She wheeled around.
His gaze riveted on her chest.
Well, her boobs practically thrown in his face had cer tainly drawn his attention.
Her hand automatically fluttered toward the next but ton before she stopped the nervous habit from making her more exposed. She pointedly cleared her throat. He didn’t seem in any hurry to raise his head or appear a bit embar rassed at being caught staring.
“Two hundred,” she stated, ignoring the little flare of desire that swept through her, and concentrated on the matter at hand. She wanted this sale. And actually, two hundred thousand wasn’t a bad asking price for the land and building. She bit her bottom lip and waited for his reply.
Damn, he was cute. Why did he have to be such a dis traction? Maybe they could get together after the deal was final. She inwardly smiled as naughty thoughts filled her head. She could easily picture them naked in bed, bodies pressed against each other. She sighed, wondering what he thought of her.
Conor Richmond thought the woman in front of him looked a little desperate. He wondered why she worked the streets. He figured her more for a high-priced call girl than a street hooker.
New in town, maybe? Like him?
Except she wanted to start a business. And the way she looked, it wouldn’t take her long to have a whole string of Johns begging for her favors and willing to shell out more than a couple of hundred dollars. If she cleaned up a little, that is, and bought some decent clothes. Her hose were ripped so bad she’d do better without them, and her skirt looked like she’d dug it out of the Salvation Army trash bin.
What had driven her to this way of life? Drugs? Her eyes were a little red-rimmed. She could be a user, although he didn’t see any track marks running up her arms.
But underneath the smudge of dirt on her face and the worn clothes, he saw a sensuous woman, and he had a hell of a time keeping his gaze from straying. The amount of cleavage showing beckoned him to bury his face in her lush curves.
The view only got better. Her long, silky legs drew his attention even if her hose were shredded. They were the kind of legs made to wrap around a man. Pulling him deeper and deeper inside her hot body. Yeah, she was made for sex. The kind that got down and dirty.
A carload of boys driving by whistled and honked their horn. She looked momentarily distracted, then tossed a saucy grin in their direction as they laughed and sped down the street.
The smile transformed her face. Meant to pull an unsus pecting male into her web. He wasn’t immune to her charms any more than the next poor sucker would be. But he wasn’t her next customer, either. Sometimes he hated his job.
“Don’t you think two hundred’s a little steep?” he asked.
She wet her lips, her gaze returning to his. A temptress. Conor inwardly groaned.
“Not for what you’ll get.”
The way she said the words, kind of husky, made him wish just for a few hours he could pretend he wasn’t a cop. Made him wish he hadn’t seen her standing on the sidewalk. And made him wish that for a moment he hadn’t thought she looked out of place and vulnerable.
Man, had he misjudged. She was a pro, all right. Her sultry eyes promised sinful delights. His gaze was drawn to her low-cut blouse when her hand moved toward the buttons… just as the gesture was meant to do.
His vision clouded as he remembered the way she’d walked down the sidewalk. Hell, how could he forget! Hips swaying seductively, and the way she’d slowly turned back around so he could see what he’d be giving up if she chose to keep going. He’d burned all the way down to his boots. No, she knew exactly what she did to him.
“And what will I get for my money?” he asked, want ing her to spell it out.
Her eyes widened innocently. “Why, everything, of course.”
Sliding his hand into his pocket, he emerged with a roll of crisp, green bills. Thumbing them, he drew two out and handed them to her. She took the money—looking a little confused, he thought—but decided it was part of her act. He pocketed the rest.
“A down payment?” she asked, staring at the bills.
Figured. She knew she had him by the balls. Why not twist a little harder? Get as much of his cash as she could.
“Is that okay?” He stepped forward. So near, her scent washed over him, bathing him with erotic fantasies. She might look like she’d been sleeping in the streets, but she smelled oh-so-sweet. She raised her head. Her lips so close. So kissable. He ached to pull her into his arms and see if her mouth was as hot as it looked.
“I… suppose.”
Too bad.
In one swift motion, he reached behind him, drew the handcuffs from the leather case hooked to his belt, and snapped them shut over her wrists.
A damn shame he couldn’t have met her in another place. He had a gut feeling they would’ve been good together.
“Lady, you’re under arrest for solicitation.”
Chapter 2
“What the hell are you doing?” Jessica demanded glancing down at her wrists, handcuffed in front of her “I’m a cop… Officer Conor Richmond. You have the right to remain silent..”
Damn, not John, Troy’s brother. Oh hell, he’d probably thought she’d been looking for a John. She frowned. “I’m familiar with the Miranda Warning.”
“I just bet you are.” He finished it anyway.
Smart-ass.
Her father had mentioned a new officer when she’d had lunch with him last Sunday. In fact, all he’d talked about was how he’d like them to meet. The name Conor Richmond sounded embarrassingly familiar.
He tugged her toward his car. The three women across the street started yelling obscenities and laughing. Great, an audience. Her brow creased. They might come in handy if she needed their help, though.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Buster.” She dug in her heels. “Just because you claim to be a cop, it doesn’t make you one. You’re out of uniform, and I’ve never seen you before.” She wanted to see some identification.
He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a thin, brown wallet. Flipping it open, he flashed a badge and ID.
“Here’s your proof.”
She read the bold print under his picture. Officer Conor Richmond. The license looked legit. Okay, so this was the new man on the force.
When he looked at her, her pulse skipped a beat. She sighed deeply. His gaze strayed to her chest again. Her nipples tightened in response.
Too bad she’d sworn never to get involved with a cop. If she didn’t want to be one, then she damn well didn’t want to have a relationship with one, either. But it might’ve been nice having him pressed against her. Feeling the ripple of each sinewy muscle beneath her hands as she explo
red his body.
Apparently, he wasn’t immune to her, either. In fact, he reminded her of a little boy with his nose pressed against the glass of a candy store window. He suddenly shifted his feet and cleared his throat.
“It won’t work.” He met her gaze. “And just because you’ve been arrested a few times doesn’t mean you know all the officers. This is my first week, though.”
She didn’t mention she’d figured that one out. Her father had extolled the new officer’s qualities until she’d eventually tuned him out. She frowned. He’d blatantly hinted Officer Richmond happened to be single. Her father hadn’t described him, though.
Not the sexy green eyes or the thick black hair or the way a woman would ache to run her hands over his firm, muscled body.
She cleared her mind when she realized the direction her thoughts had strayed. Her father had only mentioned his name. Maybe he should have listed the officer’s other qualities as well?
No, no, no! She wasn’t about to get involved with a cop.
“What won’t work?” she wanted to know as she refo cused her attention.
“Trying to seduce me.”
Oh really! His ego was slightly inflated.
The situation was too funny. She’d love to see his expression when he hauled her in front of her father with handcuffs…
No, that would be cruel. She quickly dismissed the thought scampering across her brain, but it popped right back up.
A quirky sense of humor ran in her family, so it wasn’t her fault that all sorts of possibilities were going through her mind. You might even call it an inherited trait. Totally out of her control. And right now she really couldn’t help herself, and besides, she did need a ride since her car was locked.
Lowering her voice, she said, “Is that what I’m attempting to do?” She slid her tongue slowly over her upper lip. “Seduce you?”
His mouth parted slightly and he swallowed. The air sizzled between them as his gaze swept over her, raw and hungry. It started at her shoulders and moved downward, touching her breasts and causing her nipples to ache.
Slowly his gaze lowered. She caught her breath when it lingered on her hips, before moving downward. Her legs trembled with the need to feel him pressed between them.
The radio in the front seat crackled with static.
She expelled her breath in a whoosh and shifted from one foot to the other. Furiously, she began twisting the second button on her blouse. When the cuffs jangled, she jerked her hands down. Damn habit!
Okay, this game had gone on long enough. Time to end it. “You’ve made a mistake. In fact, you couldn’t be more wrong. My name is Jessica Ne…”
“You can tell it all to the chief.”
Stubborn man! She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Fine, she hadn’t talked to her father since last Sunday, so she’d be able to kill two birds with one stone. He was always saying she didn’t visit him at the office enough.
Reaching through the open window on the passenger side, Conor grabbed the microphone off the seat. “One-fifty-six will be in route with a ten-ninety-five in custody.”
He looked over his shoulder. She followed his gaze, but the other three women had quickly departed.
“Your friends got lucky this time,” he told her.
“They’re not my friends.”
“Don’t try to deny it. I saw you wave at them.”
She didn’t try to explain she’d been attempting to wave them away so they wouldn’t lower the property values. He probably wouldn’t believe her anyway.
The radio crackled. “Received one-fifty-six.” He dropped the mike on the seat and opened the back door.
Jessica hesitated. He must have thought she’d do something foolish, like try to run, because he took a firmer grip on her arm.
“Do you want to go to the station the easy way, or the hard?”
The officer was starting to annoy her. She batted her lashes and in her sexiest voice said, “Oh, the easy way, of course. I’d hate to think I’d made anything hard on you.”
His brow creased into tiny lines.
“If you think you’re being cute, think again. Maybe you don’t realize just how much trouble you’re in.”
“This isn’t my first trip to the police station.” Jessica tossed her blond hair over her shoulder, winked, and eased down onto the light blue vinyl seat.
“Why do you do it?” he asked, his tone suddenly seri ous as he leaned forward.
She turned. Their faces were only inches apart. His lips were set in a grim line. This charade needed to end here and now.
“Listen, this isn’t what you think…” she began, only to be interrupted.
“I won’t change my mind.”
If that’s the way he wanted it. At least no one could say she hadn’t tried to warn him. She shrugged. “A girl has to make a living somehow.” She was almost certain she’d re gret that remark.
With a look of disgust, Conor slammed the door. She tried to stop the grin from spreading across her face, but couldn’t. Maybe if she hadn’t known what to expect. If she’d been just a little frightened, things might have been different. But, Jessica had a good idea what would transpire once they arrived at the station.
A niggle of guilt tickled her spine, but she ignored it. She hadn’t instigated any of this. What happened would serve him right for not letting her explain the situation. She glanced down at her clothes. Okay, so maybe some of it was her fault, but she certainly hadn’t awakened this morning and decided to end her day looking slutty and getting arrested.
He opened the door on the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel. The car purred to life when he turned the key. After looking to make sure it was clear, he eased into traffic.
“You know, there’s no reason for you to continue in this line of work.”
Jessica met his gaze in the rear view mirror. He had the deepest, darkest green eyes she’d ever seen. They grabbed her, making it hard to look away. Not that she tried.
“I bet there’s a lot of things you’d be qualified for,” he continued, making a left at the stoplight.
“You mean—me?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“Sure.” He turned his attention back to the road and took the entrance to the freeway, increasing his speed as he merged with the flow of traffic.
She’d seen the expression on his face. Like he was preparing himself to explain the real facts of life. She’d only heard it all a zillion times from her father ever since she’d reached high-school age: the importance of being a productive citizen.
Year after year, the same tired speech, even though she was twenty-seven years old. Why did all cops want to save the world? Officer Richmond didn’t appear any different.
And real estate was a good, honest profession, even if it wasn’t the job her father wanted for her. She’d tried it his way, but it hadn’t worked out.
They passed the mall and garden center. Well, it would be over soon. They were almost to the station.
Maybe she really should attempt to explain one more time that she wasn’t a hooker. He was new in town. What would it hurt to cut him a little slack?
Ah, what the heck? If she did convince him that her profession was perfectly legal, the fun would end before it ever really started. And she wanted to see Conor’s expression when he discovered who she was. Her father had a great sense of humor so he’d get a good laugh out of it.
“I bet there are a lot of jobs you’d be good at,” he continued. “And all legal. You could be a waitress or care for the elderly.”
And here she’d thought her college degree showed. She frowned and glanced downward, turning her foot to the side. Maybe it was her three-inch black heels? In her profession, sensible loafers would work better, but she had a fetish for shoes—heels being on the top of her list. They made her feel like a lady, even if they were murder on her feet and it’d taken a month of practicing to walk in the blasted things.
He looked like he expected her to comment on
his brilliant idea. She knew her sarcasm would be lost on him. “Or what about a high-powered real estate agent who sells expensive properties and makes a bundle on commissions?” A little stretch of the truth. She hadn’t made a bundle of money yet. The sale of the commercial property would’ve been her first major deal.
“Well… yeah.” Slowing, he exited on Rifle Road. “But you’d probably have to go back to school. The main thing is the life you’re leading can get you killed.”
“Ha! And yours won’t?”
“That’s different.”
When she opened her mouth to argue, he sent her a quelling look. She clamped her lips together.
He turned his signal light on and pulled into the park ing lot in front of the red brick police station. She noted that most of the day shift had left. There were only five patrol cars and around ten personal vehicles. Jessica knew who owned three of the cars.
Officer Richmond didn’t speak again until he’d pulled to a stop and helped her out. “I really hate doing this, but it’s my job. Someday you might even thank me.”
Yeah, but he’d kill her. “Listen, Officer Richmond, I’ve been trying to explain something to you. I really don’t think you want to do this. It will hurt you a lot more than me…”
“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Her gaze lowered naughtily. It didn’t appear to be, but she could change that if given a moment alone with him.
His grip tightened on her elbow as he led her down the hedge-lined sidewalk and up a short flight of steps. After opening the double glass doors, he nudged her shoulder so she’d go inside.
“Okay, it’s your funeral,” she muttered, stepping into the cool interior of the building. Her heels clicked across the black-and-white tiled floor.
The dispatcher, seated behind a smudged glass window, casually raised her head. The widening of her eyes was the only indication that everything wasn’t quite right.
Mike Winslow stepped from one of the closed rooms. He barely spared them a glance as he looked at the report in his hand.