Christmas Male(23)

She was going to give in to it. It wasn’t that big a deal, really. After all, she’d nearly given in to it last night at the Blue Pepper.

She turned the faucets off and then pressed a hand against the nerves jumping in her stomach. Usually, when she made a decision, that was it. She didn’t have second thoughts or feel the need to rethink it over and over.

Nor had she ever before wondered if the decision had been hers to make—or if it had been ripped away from her the moment she’d first seen him standing on the other side of the Rubinov diamond.

No. She was not going to entertain that possibility. She was going to stick to the facts. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around her hair, then used another one to dry off. Number one, they were mutually attracted to one another. Two, trying to ignore what they were feeling was…distracting and might interfere with their investigation.

And ignoring the attraction might turn out to be impossible in any case, nagged a little voice at the back of her mind.

Fiona firmly pushed aside the thought. As it was, the chemistry between them was so volatile, it might burn out right after they had sex. Problem solved. And if it didn’t…?

The nerves in her stomach did another annoying little jig. Grabbing a robe from the hook over the door, Fiona ran fingers through her still-damp hair as she headed for her small galley kitchen.

She poured a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and blew on the hot liquid as she strode back into her bedroom. She’d made her decision. Taking a fortifying sip, she selected clothes, then began the next phase of her morning routine—blow-drying her hair.

The pounding on her door began just as Fiona was fastening a gold hoop in her ear. Who…? The tightening in her gut answered her question before she even released the deadbolt and opened the door to the length of the security chain.

D.C. grinned at her through the crack. “Good. I see you’re up and ready.”

“What are you doing here?” She shot back the chain and opened the door. He was wearing black denim jeans, a turtleneck and a black leather jacket. He nearly filled the doorway.

And he was going to be hers. As the decision solidified inside of her, some of her nerves settled. Others started a little jig. To cover them, she said, “I thought we were supposed to meet at the hospital.”

“I figured it would be more efficient if we went in the same car. Safer, too. There’s about four inches of snow out there, and I’ve got four-wheel drive. You don’t. Besides, traveling together will allow us to discuss what we’ve learned, strategize. I figured it will save us time. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

He smiled then. “But it’s your call.”

“Okay. We’ll go in your car.”

“Good.” D.C. noted the hint of nerves in her eyes as he moved past her, and they settled some of his own. “Got any coffee?”

“Help yourself.”

After he spotted the half-full pot, he kept his back to her as he searched her cupboards and located a mug. The simplicity of using one car and the fact that they’d soon be dealing with the media had been two of the reasons he’d given himself for driving over instead of meeting her at the hospital.

The most comfortable ones.

The one that caused him the most concern was that he’d awakened with an inexplicable need to see her. Why? The n word bothered him a bit, but not enough to dampen his curiosity.

The other reason he’d come here this morning was that he didn’t want to give her too much time to decide whether or not they were going to become lovers. And he was prepared to influence her decision if he had to.

He found sugar in the third cupboard he opened. Then he located milk in the refrigerator. She kept a tidy kitchen, but he found absolutely nothing edible to go with the coffee.

Turning around, he leaned a hip against the counter. “What do you usually do for breakfast?”

“I pick it up on the way to the station.”

She’d remained standing against the door she’d closed behind him. They were both keeping their distance. Sipping coffee, he studied her in the first rays of sunlight pouring through the window.

Gone was the red dress, but she still looked like a fashion plate. The dove-gray jacket and slacks were neatly tailored. The killer shoes had been replaced by practical low-heeled boots. The result was neat and professional. Today, the only hint of the passion he’d discovered beneath that cool surface was the bold purple color of her blouse.

He sipped coffee again, then set his mug down. “I also wanted to find out what you’ve decided about us. We’ll be busy once we get to the hospital.”

Her brows rose. “I didn’t know there was a deadline.”