Christmas Male(17)

Fiona narrowed her eyes on the two men. “They passed as a gay couple.”

“Yes. Of course, in his line of work, Chance has run these kinds of cons before. He’s very good. But in the Baghdad case, he gives the credit for the success of the operation largely to Campbell. My question is…can you work with him?” Natalie asked. “This is a very high-profile case. Once the media gets wind of the attempted theft, we’ll have a PR circus on our hands.”

Fiona knew her captain well enough to know that Natalie had sensed the tension between D.C. and her, so she met her boss’s eyes. “I’d be a fool not to work with him. He’s good. He keeps on top of things. And he has connections. His brother is ex-navy, special ops, and he runs a security firm in Manhattan. D.C. has asked him to run a background check on Amanda Hemmings.”

Natalie smiled slowly. “Sounds like he could be a real asset to your investigation. So, you’ll find a way to handle your attraction to him.”

Fiona swore silently to herself. Her boss was a very perceptive woman. She shifted her gaze to D.C. She was almost getting used to the instant flare of heat she felt each time she did. The aching spurt of hunger was new and no doubt, due to that kiss.

On the walk to the Blue Pepper she’d nearly succeeded in pushing the kiss out of her mind. Thinking about it only made her head spin. First she’d tried to convince herself that D.C.’s effect on her senses must have been an aberration. No other man had ever made her feel that wanton. That wild. But the temptation was there burning deep inside of her like a bullet to see if it would happen again the next time he kissed her. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’ll deal with it.”

She just had to figure out how.



FIONA GALLAGHER WAS going to be a definite problem for him, D.C. mused. Hadn’t he reminded her, while they’d been handling those young punks, that you had to be careful what you wished for? All he’d wanted was a little adventure to relieve his boredom. And fate had served him a double whammy. A mystery surrounding one of the world’s most famous diamonds and a woman who stirred his blood just by being there.

Why? He wasn’t so much baffled by the question as intrigued. He’d been attracted to beautiful women before. Many pleasurable times. And Fiona certainly was beautiful. The fair skin, the dark hair, the face that might have served as a model for an Italian cameo—and that list was just for starters. Once they’d arrived at the Blue Pepper, she’d slipped out of her coat and he’d gotten a good look at those long legs, the sexy compact body and swimmer’s shoulders. A lesser man might have had to stop his tongue from hanging out.

The red dress left as much skin bare as it covered, and it clung in just the right places. In the cramped office where Chance had escorted them so that his man could authenticate the diamond, D.C. had been so close that her arm had brushed his when she’d taken the Rubinov out. His palms had itched with the desire to take her hand and turn her into his arms. The impulse to touch her right there, right then, had been unprofessional and almost overwhelming.

To control it, he’d stuffed his hands in his pockets and sincerely regretted not having given in to the temptation to run his hands over that combination of cool silk and warm skin earlier, when they’d kissed.

Then there was the kiss itself. No other woman had ever pushed the limits of his control that way. D.C. prided himself on being able to handle almost anything life sent him. But Fiona Gallagher was making him rethink that.

There was something about her, something that he was determined to understand. He figured he had time since they were going to be operating as closely together as Siamese twins.

There wasn’t a doubt in D.C.’s mind that he and Fiona would kiss again. And more. One of the things that made a cop a cop was insatiable curiosity. Both of them had it, and both of them would be compelled to discover if lightning could strike more than…twice? Three times?

The possibility had him wishing for a swallow of the cold beer Chance had offered and he’d refused. Instead, he selected a crispy fried shrimp from the plate he’d loaded up from one of the buffet tables.

“So what do you think of Lieutenant Gallagher?”

Chance’s tone was casual, but D.C. had been expecting the question ever since Natalie had spirited Fiona off to a nearby table. Before an interrogation, one always separated the subjects. “I think she has good friends who are worried about her. I imagine that your wife is asking Fiona a similar question.” D.C. chewed, swallowed and helped himself to another shrimp. Fiona had been right. The food was excellent.