by Karen Kelley
“I talked to Dad earlier,” Jessica said, drawing Conor’s attention away from the suspects’ house.
As soon as he looked her way, he knew he was in trou ble. The only light came from the full moon and a small lamp in the corner of the living room, making it easy to see her expression. Right now it was soft, with a sleepy-eyed look that made him want to carry her up to bed and do more than tuck her in.
She’d pulled her feet up under her when she’d curled herself in the wing back chair and was hugging a heart shaped pillow. He couldn’t help wishing she was curled in his lap hugging him instead.
He gripped the arms of his chair, trying to focus. It wouldn’t surprise him if he totally blew this case. Damn, he’d always been able to gather enough evidence to get a conviction or, at the very least, enough proof that the suspects were innocent. He was afraid his clean record might get muddied the longer Jessica hung around.
“I spoke with your father, too,” he told her.
She hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Did he mention anything about who he thought the ringleader might be?”
It wouldn’t do a damn bit of good not telling her anything. Hell, he already knew her knowledge about the case was nearly as much as his.
“No, he doesn’t have a suspect yet.”
She was quiet a few minutes. He could feel her watch ing him.
“But you do.” She spoke quietly.
She was good at reading people. He’d always prided himself on being unreadable. He briefly wondered if he was mistaken in other areas as much as he had been about her innocence. No, he didn’t think so.
“Yeah, I have a few people on my list,” he finally ad mitted.
“The mayor?”
“Your father doesn’t seem to think so.”
She rested her head against the back of the chair, and for a moment he lost his train of thought. A lock of pale blond hair fell forward. She casually brushed it behind her ear. God, she was so damned beautiful.
“My father says the mayor is a jerk. He doesn’t think he’s guilty. Not of the robberies, anyway. You know they went to school together, don’t you? Same grade and everything. I don’t think Dad wants past rivalries to cloud his judgment, but it might be working in reverse.”
“You think the mayor might be involved?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t ruled him out.”
He crossed his legs and leaned back to a more comfortable spot. He’d never discussed an ongoing case with anyone outside law enforcement, but he reasoned that since her father trusted her with information, there’d be no harm, and she was right—technically, she was still a cop. Besides, he found himself curious to know how Jessica’s mind worked.
“But what about the fact his house was robbed?” He watched her face and saw she kept her expression bland. She was pretty good at hiding what she thought, too. “It hurt his campaign,” he went on.
“And a good way to throw off any suspicion. The crim inals have cashed in on a lot of money since they began their crime spree. More than the mayor could make as a public servant.”
Okay, so they’d wondered the same thing. That still didn’t make her a good cop. “So, why is your father not convinced? I know the chief suspects shady dealings involving the mayor. Like contracts going to some of his friends.”
“It’s hard not to have dealings with people you know in a town of less than a hundred thousand. He wants more proof.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“But you can’t stay awake all night, and all day, too. You have to go to bed sometime.”
His heart pounded when he thought of the heart-shaped bed upstairs. “I’ll be fine.” He glanced at his watch. Nearly midnight. “Why don’t you go to bed,” he said as casually as his racing pulse would allow. He pictured her lying naked in the middle of the bed, pale skin against a background of red satin sheets. Not that he would do anything about it. “Go on to bed. You’re about to fall out of your chair.”
She straightened, eyes opening wide. “I’m fine… really…” She stifled a yawn.
God, she was like a delectable pastry. He was getting more hungry each minute he spent in her company.
“You’re right,” she admitted wryly. “Do you think any thing will happen tonight?” She nodded toward their neighbors’ house.
Absolutely not! It took him a second or two to realize she was talking about the suspects. He drew in a deep breath. “They turned off the last light an hour ago. Everything’s been as lifeless as a morgue. They’re probably sound asleep.”
“Wake me up when you get sleepy, and I’ll take over the watch. I can at least do that much. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
She was right. He would’ve taken turns with Angie if George hadn’t walked in on him and Jessica kissing. “Okay. When I get tired.”
“ ‘Night, then.”
She uncurled from the chair, and like a cat, stretched as she stood. Languidly, she sauntered toward the stairs, but stopped and turned when she reached the doorway.
“You’ll be up soon? I won’t need more than a few hours’ sleep.”
His insides tightened at the thought of crawling between the red silk sheets and snuggling close to Jessica, then waking her up with a long, passion-filled kiss.
All of a sudden, burglars and law enforcement were the last things on his agenda. Instead, he wondered what she wore to bed. He swallowed. If anything.
“Yeah, I’ll be up shortly.” He was amazed there was only a slight crack in his voice. It was a miracle he could speak at all.
Darkness swallowed her, making him wonder if he’d imagined her slow, seductive walk. Inhaling, he caught a whisper of the fragrance she wore. Mysterious and sinful.
Shaking his head, he tried to concentrate on the facts. Number one, they weren’t really married. Two, he had a job to do. Three, making love with Jessica should be the furthest thing from his mind.
Then why couldn’t he think about anything else?
He heard the distant noise of the upstairs shower and had to adjust his pants as he pictured her standing under the spray of water, the soap sliding over her body, leaving tiny bubbles in its wake. Her skin would be slick, his hands could easily slide over the soapy surface of her body.
She turned off the water, but not his fantasies. A few minutes later a whirring noise came from upstairs. Blow dryer? A sudden vision of her getting ready for him, her hair soft and fluffy, sent a longing inside him that he found hard to control.
His hand shook as he raked it through his hair, imagin ing what it would be like with her pressed close. Her lips would graze his bare skin. Her tongue…
Get hold of yourself! It should be up to him to be the professional. Damn! He’d been the one to bring sex into the equation when he tried to run her off. Now it seemed that was all he could think about. He’d only wanted to scare her into running back home to her safe apartment. At the very least, make her see this situation was impossible and she’d better leave the first chance she got.
The tables had turned. Maybe she didn’t realize what she was doing, but all the signals were there. His sixth sense told him that she craved this as much as he did.
Maybe she was the type for a casual affair. If he wasn’t on a stakeout, the circumstances couldn’t be better. Neither one expected a commitment from the other. She’d al-
ready told him she didn’t want to get involved with a cop, and he certainly didn’t want a long-term relationship. No one would be hurt.
He stood and went to the phone, dialing the number of the station.
“White Plains Police Department,” the dispatcher said.
“Officer Richmond. I’m going to take a quick shower. Have an unmarked car cruise the area.”
“Sure thing, Conor.”
He shook his head. Coming from a large department to a smaller one had been a shock he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. They certainly didn’t stand on ceremony.
He glanced one more time at the house next door before making
his way up the stairs. He combed his hand through his hair and straightened his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he eased the door open and stepped inside.
The bathroom door stood slightly ajar, bathing all but the shadowed corners in a soft, dim light. He ambled toward the bed, trying to appear nonchalant.
His steps faltered. If Jessica was under those covers, she’d shrunk. A soft snore drew his attention to the bedroom directly across from this one.
“What the hell?”
Surely she wasn’t sleeping on the floor. He walked across the hall. The bedroom door was open. Apparently she shared his aversion to small, closed-off spaces. On closer inspection, he saw she was on a twin-size air mattress. No wonder her blasted suitcase had been so big and heavy.
Not a blow dryer, but something to put air in the mattress. What an idiot. It looked like she’d had the last word again. Disappointment filled him, but he couldn’t be angry with her.
At least now he knew what she wore to bed. The room was a little warm and apparently Jessica was hot-natured. He grinned at the thought. Hadn’t he already suspected that when she’d returned his kiss, then had the audacity to grab his ass?
She’d shoved the covers to the side. Her cotton pajamas even had feet in them. It must’ve taken her at least ten minutes to button the row of tiny buttons that stretched all the way to her neck.
She had one hand tucked under her head, the other curled beside her. Pale blond strands of hair had fallen forward to curtain her face. He stifled an urge to reach down and brush the hair aside, afraid he might waken her. And if he did, Conor didn’t know if he could stop himself from carrying her to bed… cotton pajamas and all.
He wanted her too much. A shudder of longing swept through him. It had been a long time since he’d spent the night with a woman snuggled close to him.
Idiot! She’d already said she wouldn’t get involved with a cop, and he wasn’t about to change. His life was littered with impossible relationships. He didn’t need another one to add to his list. No, best to get all notions of her out of his mind.
He glanced once more at Jessica. Then again, she might just be worth it. He took a deep breath before walking back across the hall, and going inside the bathroom. He shut the door behind him. Turning on the shower, he stripped and stepped under the warm spray, wishing the water would wash away his forbidden thoughts.
As the bathroom door creaked, Jessica dragged her eyelids open and watched through a veil of hair. She had a perfect view straight in to Conor’s room and the bathroom. Was she dreaming? Had Conor emerged from the bathroom, a towel carelessly slung around his hips? She inched her hand to her arm and pinched, then grimaced. This wasn’t a dream. Droplets of water clung to Conor’s hair and slid down his chest.
Jessica had wondered if he was dark all over or only tanned. Tanned was nice, too. Slowly, her gaze traveled over him. Broad shoulders, washboard stomach, slim hips.
She tried to keep her breathing natural, but he made the simple act of inhaling and exhaling almost impossible. She devoured him with her eyes at the same time her body longed for what he could give her.
He ambled over to the bed. Just before he sat down, the towel dropped to the floor.
He was beautiful. No, gorgeous. She wanted him with every fiber of her being. Her thighs trembled with her need to feel him buried deep inside her.
Breathe!
In and out. In and out. That was worse! She almost groaned aloud. Slow, deep breaths. Stay calm, she told herself. He has a body, just like every other man. Her insides quivered. No, not like every man. The same parts, maybe. Conor would never be like everyone else. Magnificent was too tame a word to describe him.
Lord, she’d never be able to get that image out of her mind. Did she want to? At least he didn’t know she’d been staring. She’d never be able to look him in the eye if he knew she’d seen him in the buff. Or worse, what she was thinking.
“Go to sleep, Jessica.”
His words were so softly spoken that at first she thought she might have imagined them. When she realized she hadn’t, that he knew she’d seen him, her face burned. Oh lord, she must’ve inadvertently made some kind of noise that clued him in.
How long had he known she was awake and keeping tabs on his every move? Was his goal in life to irritate her? Dumb question. Of course it was. He didn’t want her here. She flopped to her other side and yanked the covers up to her chin, even though the pajamas she wore were stifling.
“As long as the show is over, Conor, I might as well go to sleep. And you could at least turn the bathroom light off. It shines right in my eyes.”
The mattress squeaked as he got up. She glanced over her shoulder, then hurriedly ducked her head as he switched the light off.
Yeah, right. Like she’d be able to go to sleep now. Sleep was the last thing on her mind.
Fool! Why’d you look again?
She’d take a cold shower, but Conor would know exactly what she had on her mind. Like it would do any good after that show. Hell, he probably already knew she wasn’t immune to his physical attributes.
And what attributes they were! Bronzed skin, a broad chest she could easily imagine resting her head against. Lean and hard. Oh yes, Officer Conor Richmond had very nice attributes.
Ones she would ignore if it killed her.
Damn, it was freakin’ hot in here. Her pajamas were suffocating. She flipped to her back and began the task of unbuttoning her protective suit. She barely registered the light spilling from his room. She refused to look in his direction.
After finally getting each button undone, she wiggled and squirmed out of her bunny pj’s. Much better, she sighed with relief, and tossed them into the corner before pulling the sheet under her arms.
“Too hot for you, Jessica?”
She jumped and turned to her side. Conor stood in the doorway, fully dressed.
“You know, it’s only going to get worse. You want me and I want you. Eventually we’ll have sex. Why not leave in the morning and save yourself some regrets?”
Damn it, he was reading her mind again. At least part of it. She did want to make love with him. She doubted she’d have any regrets, though. “Go to hell, Conor. Just wake me up in a few hours, and I’ll take the next watch.”
Chapter 9
When Jessica opened her eyes the next morning, the night before came rushing back. Could her life get any worse? Damn, he’d caught her staring. How embarrassing.
She’d been able to face him better when she was half asleep and he’d wakened her to take over the watch. After brewing a pot of coffee, she grabbed a book and sat in front of the kitchen window. She’d managed to stay awake until four-thirty when he slipped downstairs and made her go back to bed. She glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty.
She pulled the covers over her head, wanting to stay in bed the rest of the day, but the darkness brought visions of a tanned, naked body sauntering around the bedroom. Just what she needed—erotic images for breakfast.
As delicious as those thoughts were, hiding because she didn’t really want to face him in the light of day would be taking the coward’s way out, and she wasn’t, and never had been, a coward. Still, she cautiously looked across the hall before getting up. She didn’t see him anywhere. The bathroom door was open, so he wasn’t in there.
Good. At least she could put off facing him until she had herself under control. She scrambled off the air mattress and rushed to the bathroom.
“Eghhh!” She skidded to a stop, slapping a hand to her chest and staring at her reflection. It was obvious she hadn’t gotten any beauty sleep last night. She’d tossed and turned so much, her hair stuck out worse than if she’d put her fin ger in a light socket.
She stripped out of the shorts and cotton top she’d put on after Conor went downstairs to take the first watch. Much cooler than the blasted bunny suit she’d bought. Besides the fact it hadn’t worked to keep her thoughts pure.
After adjusting the water, she climbed in the
shower. The hot water felt wonderful on her sore muscles. The air mattress wasn’t even close to being as comfortable as her bed, but she had no alternative. She’d suffer it until they caught the burglars red-handed.
As much as she enjoyed the soothing spray, all things had to end. She got out, towel dried, and quickly brushed her teeth. After dressing in dark green tights, running shoes, and a loose white, sleeveless shirt over a midriff-hugging spandex top, she fastened her hair back with a gold clip and deemed herself presentable.
As she passed the mirror, she couldn’t help frowning at her reflection. She didn’t want to look stuffy. She unbuttoned the top button. Better. Then the next one. Much better. Kind of like saying, yeah, I saw your ass. So what?
Now she could face the day… and Conor. Well, maybe not Conor, but the longer she waited, the harder it would be. She groaned. Two words she didn’t want to think about in the same sentence. Conor —and hard.
The rattling of pans and the aroma of frying bacon drew her down the stairs and toward the kitchen. Hesitantly, she entered.
“Good morning,” Conor said, glancing in her direction, then turned his attention back to the skillet of sizzling bacon. “Coffee’s on the counter. Cups in the cabinet to the left. Hope you like bacon and eggs.”
It was amazing how at home he looked standing in front of the stove with a blue-striped dish towel tucked into the waistband of his jeans. She never would’ve thought he’d be the kind of man who cooked.
Some of her uneasiness at facing him evaporated. Conor acted as if nothing had happened.
“How do you like your eggs?”
She strolled to the coffeepot, sniffed, then opened the cabinet and reached for a cup.
“Unfertilized,” she muttered, then louder, “I don’t usu ally eat breakfast. Just coffee.”
His hand stilled in the process of turning the bacon. “You’re joking?”
Jessica shook her head. “No, that’s all I eat. I like to run every morning. Jogging and a full stomach don’t mix.”
“You won’t make an exception? I cook a mean egg.”
I bet you do. In fact, she figured he did most things ex tremely well.