“Good.” He dropped his hand and retreated, stepping between the cars and striding away in the dimly lit parking garage.
I let my jelly knees go a bit and leaned against my car. What the fuck was that? I couldn’t figure him out, couldn’t even begin to follow what was going on in his head. One second he seemed ready to rip my clothes off, the next he was the hardass, and then he was a mix of both. My head spun almost in time with my heartbeat. Dizzying.
My phone chirped, bringing me out of my horny yet confused stupor. I checked the text as I sank into the car. It was from him. Case meeting. 3 p.m. My office.
I dropped my head against the headrest. He was relentless. Absolutely relentless. And now he’d thrown down the gauntlet on what it would take to get his touch again, his mouth, his everything. I shuddered at the memory of his words before groaning at the clusterfuck of a situation I’d gotten myself into.
What could I do? I already wanted to break, to give him the okay. No. I shoved my key into the ignition a little too hard. He wouldn’t win. I wouldn’t let him.
I drove the whole way back to the office while scream-singing along with the local rock radio station. I couldn’t sing on the best of days, but my rock act was even worse than usual. I didn’t care. I needed to pump myself up for the meeting. He’d barely given me time to make it back, much less to his office, before 3 p.m. hit. I hurried down the hall, gaining a small slice of satisfaction from elbowing past a scowling Yvonne. I was very busy and important, after all.
I stopped before I rounded the corner to Wash’s office and composed myself. Terrell lifted an eyebrow at me through his door, but I shook my head. Later. He gave me a two-finger salute and went back to typing.
Once my heartbeat calmed, I walked through his open door. He had taken his jacket off and loosened his tie, and the top button of his shirt was undone. Gorgeous. He was playing hardball. I could take it, despite the flush creeping up my skin trying to convince me otherwise.
“You’re late.” He smiled, the dimples so close to the surface that I was certain if I’d cracked an off-color joke, they’d make an appearance.
“Traffic.” I kept my sex jokes to myself and took a seat.
“Tell me what you thought about Luke.” He began rolling up one of his sleeves, the dark hair along his arms drawing my gaze like a magnet.
I crossed my legs and stared out the window, though I could see his reflection just fine. He kept rolling.
“I thought he was a nice guy. I felt bad for him. Having a brother like that must be hard on him. Why, what did you think?”
He put his bare arms on his desk and clasped his hands. “I saw the same things you did. Older brother disappointed in the younger one. I’m just not sure how accurate his information is going to be. He’s a smart man. He didn’t get to the top of that building with just the easy demeanor he showed us. And therein lies the lesson.”
I turned back to him and barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. “What’s the lesson?”
“In this line of work, everyone you meet is going to lie to you.”
“I don’t think so. He fell right into my trap. If he was hiding something, why did he give me the information I wanted?”
“He wanted to make you like him. It worked.”
I shrugged. “I guess you got me, Sherlock. Yes, I thought he was a nice guy.”
“Well, then, Watson, try not to be so elementary. What would a guy like him have to hide? What would he want to protect? Family? Money? Figure out why they’re lying and you have a much better chance of figuring out what they’re lying about.” He pointed to my briefcase. “Go through your notes and listen to the audio again—send me a copy, too.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“I want to hit Tyler’s last known haunts first thing. Meet me in the deck tomorrow morning at seven. When regular folks are getting up and moving about is when people like Tyler go to ground. We might be able to catch him napping.”
He leaned back, his chest expanding with the movement and making him appear larger than life. “That’s all for now, Ms. Montreat. Unless, of course, you have anything else?” He smirked, cocky beyond belief. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I glanced down to my turtleneck and slacks. I’d been demure for one day. But not anymore. Right then and there I decided I’d make him regret even setting up the game board, much less putting the pieces into motion. It was time he learned who the real hardass was.
Chapter Nine
Caroline
I slid into Wash’s car, ignoring the rising hemline of my skirt. He’d watched me walk from my car, taking in every one of my movements with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I wore a short gray pencil skirt and a black top with a V-neck. I would have worn some ridiculous heels, but since we were going to be doing field work, I chose a more modest pair of pumps. I’d thrown some ballet flats into my bag, just in case. But those were only for emergencies.