“No.” She’d temporarily forgotten about the arsenic case in the kerfuffle over the puzzle box, her mad crush on Reese and the whole kissing-in-the-squad-room fiasco. “Is it going to be bad for him?”
He shrugged. “There could be press. When is it ever good when reporters and cameras are around?”
Yikes. Not encouraging.
She led Reese into her sitting room, which she’d decorated like an English country cottage. The furniture was casual and cozy, a blend of old and new. The sofa and curtains were a buttery-yellow floral print, but their femininity was balanced by the masculine weight of the massive stone fireplace.
“Pretty room,” Reese commented.
“It doesn’t give you hives to be surrounded by all this girly stuff?” she asked doubtfully.
“I happen to like girls quite a lot. In my experience, they tend to come with girly stuff.”
She smirked. “Sort of like men come with smelly socks, empty beer cans and butt-crack scratching?”
“You really don’t like men much, do you?”
Her gaze fell away from his. “I like you.”
“Why don’t you like men in general?”
She sighed. “You’d have to be a single, reasonably attractive woman of dating age to understand.”
“Try me.”
“In high school and college, too many guys I knew were hopelessly immature and focused mainly on getting laid as often as possible. The word no wasn’t always in their vocabulary. Some of them got angry and aggressive.” She shrugged. “A girl learns to be cautious.”
“Cautious how?”
She shrugged. “You don’t take drinks or food from strange men in case they’re drugged. You don’t go to parties alone—always go with a couple of girlfriends—and for goodness’ sake don’t leave alone. Take a girlfriend to the bathroom with you. Don’t engage with guys who smell like booze—I could go on, but you get the point.”
“Didn’t you meet any education-focused guys interested in pursuing serious careers and whose parents taught them how to treat a woman right?” he asked.
“I probably did, but I was so turned off by the other kind that I couldn’t see the good ones hiding among the bad ones.”
“We’re out here. You just have to look for us.”
“No offense, but you were the biggest jerk of all when I got to the department. Although, in your defense, you never came on to me.”
“I’m sorry if I came off like a jerk. I just wanted you to make it, here. I should have trusted you to be able to handle being the first woman in your position.”
“Is there still resistance to me in the department?”
“Not after today.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’d prefer to be judged on my professional merits and not how I kiss.”
He reached out and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingertips traced the rim of her ear lightly. “Never fear. Everyone thinks you’re scary smart and darned good at your job.”
Thank goodness. “That’s a relief, at least.”
He smiled warmly at her.
“Why was it I hated you, again?” she asked.
“Because love and hate are only a hair’s breadth apart?” he offered.
Love? Whoa. That was a big word. But he had a point. The sizzling friction between them this whole past year had morphed into something much more sexual and intimate in the blink of an eye. That wouldn’t have happened if a lot of that simmering tension hadn’t already been driven by attraction, unconscious or otherwise.
She cast about for a more neutral topic of conversation and ended up blurting, “What are you going to do for a partner once Jordana leaves the department?”
Reese froze, staring at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Surely, she told you first. She’s moving to Chicago to open up an office for my future brother-in-law’s security firm.”
“I…she…sonofabitch.” He whirled away, shoving a hand through his dark hair, standing it up on end.
“Ohmigosh. She hasn’t told you, yet. God. I’m so sorry.” She stepped forward and touched Reese’s arm tentatively.
He whirled, all but knocking her over with the violence of the movement, and ended up having to wrap his arms around her tightly to keep from knocking her right off her feet.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“No, I’m sorry. I just assumed. I’m so stupid—”
He kissed her ferociously, and she absorbed his anger, and what felt like something akin to grief, into herself in silence. But then his anger shifted. Intensified. Turned into something dark and sexy and dangerous.
He surged against her, kissing her with his whole body, and she flung herself at him in return. She couldn’t get enough of this man. He backed her up against the front door and planted his thigh between hers, effectively pinning her in place. Not that she minded one bit. Her nether regions rubbed against the rough denim and her breath caught at the delicious sensation.
His hands plunged into her hair and his tongue plunged into her mouth, and she returned the favor, inhaling him even deeper into their kiss.
He must have realized he was crushing her for he turned suddenly, dragging her with him until his back was against the door and it was her turn to press into him, kissing him with all the pent-up intensity that had been building between them for months.
His mouth slashed across hers and she met him halfway. Their kiss was wet and hot, a sparring match between two aggressively attracted people who were rapidly spinning out of control. And it was glorious. The ridge behind his zipper was big and hard, and she pressed her belly hungrily against it. The peaks of her breasts rubbed against his chest, and her entire body felt light and energized, tingling and eager for more.
Gradually, Reese’s mouth eased away from hers, and his hands stilled their roaming path across her back. She leaned back to look at him questioningly.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have fallen on you to take out my frustration.”
She smiled a little. “Depends on what kind of frustration you’re talking about.”
He smiled reluctantly. “I just—losing another partner—it was a surprise—didn’t see it coming.”
“Another partner?” she echoed. “You’ve lost one before?”
She was still sprawled all over him, so she felt his entire body tense. His eyes shut down as if he’d just flipped an off switch in his brain. Whoa. She stepped back quickly, snagging his hand and pulling him away from the door and over to the sofa.
“Sit down. Talk to me, Reese. What giant nerve did I just hit?”
He shook his head and started to stand up, but she pushed on his shoulders, pressing him back down to the cushions. Not that she could brute force him into doing anything, of course, but he went along with her pressure.
“Talk.”
He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and when he opened them again, they were bleak. “I lost my first partner a few years back. She died. Shot in an arrest gone bad. I saw the gun. Too late. Tried to draw my own weapon. Wasn’t fast enough. She went down.” He stared over her shoulder at nothing, obviously seeing the whole thing again in his mind’s eye. “So much blood. Bullet hit her aorta. She died in under two minutes. No time for an ambulance to get there. No backup. Just me holding her as her life slipped away…”
“Oh, Reese. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I’m such an idiot.”
“You had no way of knowing.”
She said in a more upbeat tone, “Well, Jordana isn’t dying. She’s just moving away to be with her fiancé. Clint proposed today, by the way.”
“Good for them. I hope they’re happy.”
She said dryly, “They’re freaking delirious. It’s disgusting.”
Hah. That got a tiny smile out of him, at least.
&n
bsp; She said, “She’ll be back to visit all the time. Her whole family is here in Braxville. You’re family to her, too.”
“She’s the irritating sister I never had,” Reese said ruefully.
Thank goodness it was Jordana who’d been relegated to that role and not her. She channeled her mother for a moment and asked him, “Can I get you a cup of tea? Or a stiff shot of whiskey?”
He snorted. “You are a Colton, aren’t you? When in doubt, offer food or drink.”
“That’s us. Always stuffing our faces.”
“Then how do you stay so tiny?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
Yep. He was doing better. The first shock of finding out his partner was leaving the force had passed, and he was going to be okay. She waved a casual hand at him. “I only dine on the souls of my enemies and drink the blood of small children. Keeps me trim.”
That made him laugh reluctantly. “You don’t fool me. You’re not the evil ice queen folks in the department make you out to be.”
“Don’t tell them that!” she exclaimed in alarm. “I’ve worked hard to cultivate that image.”
“Why’s that?” Reese asked.
“Have you counted how many single, horny men there are in the Braxville PD? This is a small town, and eligible women are few and far between. The last thing I needed was for the whole police force to try to date me.”
“Jeez. I’m sorry—” he started, moving to rise.
She grabbed his arm quickly. “You’re fine. We have a truce, remember?”
“Right. Truce. You’re sure you don’t want to stop this—whatever this is—before it goes any further?”
“Positive,” she answered immediately. More hesitantly, she asked, “How about you? Do you want to call things off?”
“Absolutely not.”
They traded looks that were by turns warm and abashed. He cleared his throat. “Well okay, then. I’m glad that’s settled. And now, I really do need to get out of here.”
“But if we just decided to extend the truce—”
“If I stay any longer, we’re going to pass way beyond a truce to a full-blown peace treaty,” he interrupted.
“What’s wrong with that?” she demanded.
He stood up, moving swiftly for the door. “I’m not a one-night-stand kind of guy. If we do this, we’re going to do it right.”
She frowned. “We’re not doing anything right now.”
“Patience, Yvie.”
“Have you met me? I don’t have a patient bone in my body!”
He laughed low and husky. “Ahh, this is going to be a fun ride.”
She scowled darkly at him. “You’d better buckle up, buster.”
“Roger that.” Grinning, he reached for the doorknob.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked rhetorically.
“You’re going to come over here so I can kiss you good-night and thank you for that delicious dinner, and then you’re going to show me out. Otherwise, the neighbors are going to wonder whose truck is in your driveway in the morning.”
“I barely know my neighbors’ names. Stay.”
“Don’t tempt me. I make it a policy never to sleep with a woman on our first date.”
“I thought sorting files in my lab was our first date.”
He laughed a little, sounding pained. He drew her into a hard hug and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Ahh, you are a firecracker. You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
“Baby, I’m no firecracker. I’m a tactical nuclear bombshell.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” he replied, grinning.
She did, indeed, walk him to her front door. A soft glow came from outside, peachy light from the streetlamps illuminating the blanket of fresh snow that had fallen in the past few hours.
Reese drew her into his arms, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. She kissed him back, throwing herself into the kiss with abandon. She loved everything about how he felt against her, his body hard and fit, his mouth warm and resilient, his tongue wet and sexy and impudent.
She sucked at his tongue, pulling it deeper into her mouth, and he groaned in reaction. Just when she thought she might have broken down his resolve to leave and convinced him to follow her back to her bedroom, he straightened all at once and took a hasty step back.
“Lord, woman. You’re more temptation than I can stand up to.”
And yet, he’d just backed away from her.
“Stay,” she said softly.
“Not tonight. But soon. When we’re more sure of each other.”
What more was there to be sure of? She was totally sure she wanted to sleep with him.
“Dream about me, tonight,” he said quietly, dropping a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
“Maybe I won’t dream about you,” she tossed out.
“I’ll bet you a dollar you do,” he tossed back.
“You’re such a know-it-all,” she groused, smiling.
“It’s not being a know-it-all if I actually do know what I’m talking about.”
Laughing, she walked to the edge of the porch where the snow got deep and his footprints sank deep into the fluffy blanket of white on her sidewalk. “You keep telling yourself that, big guy.”
“God, I love smart-mouthed women.”
“Smart being the operative word.”
He turned and strode back to her swiftly, kissing her hard and fast one more time. “Dream of me,” he ordered her.
Darned if she didn’t dream about him that night, too. Lovely dreams about dancing in the dark, smoking-hot kisses and laughter. Lots of laughter.
It was hard to be mad at him for being right, or for owing him a dollar, though, when she woke up the next morning with a smile on her lips.
CHAPTER 9
Reese looked around the lobby of the police building, which had been set up for this morning’s press conference. A raised dais held a podium and several light stands. In front of it, a dozen reporters already milled around, and more were coming into the building every minute. Broadcast vans lined the entire perimeter of the parking lot, their satellite-uplink dishes already pointed skyward.
He recognized several of the journalists from national news shows and winced. This was going to be a circus—a big three-ringed mess of one. He’d tried to warn Yvette obliquely last night, but he doubted she’d caught the hint as to how bad this was going to be.
Chief of Police Roger Hilton strolled up to him. “Everything ready to go? Colton knows what to do?”
Fitz Colton was turning himself in this morning to face charges in the arsenic-poisoning cases. The plan was to allow him to make a statement to the press first. Then, the police chief would speak. And then Reese would drop the bomb. A bomb he would’ve been fine lobbing a few days ago. But now that he’d gotten to know Yvette better, he was hating himself for having volunteered to be the bad cop in this scenario.
Fitz and his lawyer were in on the plan and had agreed to participate in it as part of his plea deal, but none of Fitz’s kids had any idea what was coming, today. It was important that the family’s reactions be authentic and believable if this little charade was going to work.
The lobby continued to fill as the nine o’clock start time for the press conference approached. Two of Yvette’s brothers, Brooks and Tyler Colton, walked in together and stood near the back, taking in the crowd with less than pleased expressions. Brooks’s fiancée, a schoolteacher, wasn’t here this morning. But Tyler’s fiancée, Ashley Hart, walked in with Bridgette Colton—Yvette’s other sister besides Jordana—and the two women made their way over to the Colton brothers. Neil Colton walked in with his girlfriend, Braxville mayor, Elise Willis, but they separated immediately as she headed for the press corps to say hello to some of the more famo
us journalists here this morning.
Jordana was at her desk right now, unaware of the circus forming out here. He would text her in a few minutes to come out if she didn’t wander out on her own to check out the rising din of close to fifty journalists milling around chatting with one another and making last-minute adjustments to makeup, lighting and camera angles with their crews.
Yvette was the only other child of Fitz Colton not here yet. And she should walk in any minute expecting to go to work. He hated ambushing her like this, but the plan required her to walk in unprepared for this fiasco.
Honestly, he was surprised she wasn’t here yet. Her workday technically started at nine in the morning, but she often could be found in the lab before seven o’clock. Perhaps his prediction had been true and she’d slept in late, dreaming of him. He smiled a little in anticipation of teasing her about it later.
A hand touched his elbow and he turned, startled. Jordana.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded under her breath.
“I guess word got out that your father was going to turn himself in, today.”
“Jeez Louise. What a mess. Can we get all these people out of here? It’s five degrees outside. They won’t stick around for long if we can move them outdoors. I’ll call my dad and tell him to delay coming in—”
“He’s due in any second. You need to let this play out.”
“The news cycle is as much about entertainment as facts. They’ll nuke him!”
“It’s too late to stop this thing,” he responded. “If you send away national media outlets at this late moment, they’ll make a story out of that and accuse the Braxville Police Department of a cover-up on behalf of your rich, powerful father. For your old man’s sake, you have to let this press circus happen. His arrest has to appear fair and unbiased.”
“I know that. But this sucks.”
He couldn’t resist giving his partner a tiny warning of what was coming. “Brace yourself. The worst thing you could do is intervene on his behalf with the press. Today—as long as the cameras are rolling—you have to be a police officer first and Fitz Colton’s daughter second.”
Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set Page 35