Chapter One
Six months earlier
Officer Georgia Fox switched on the patrol car lights and hit the siren. Pulling over a driver on the cold winter night was the last thing she wanted to do, but after three years with the Atlanta Police Department, she knew that even the smallest things could make a difference in not only her safety but that of others.
The Mercedes’s right turn signal flashed as the driver pulled off the road onto the side of the highway. She could see the silhouettes of two men in the front seat, but couldn’t make out any details. After calling in her location and status, she opened her car door and got out. Her partner, Mack Horton, remained in the patrol cruiser and ran the license plate number through the computer system.
She approached the vehicle carefully, her palm over her holstered gun. Although she doubted anything bad would happen, her training had taught her that it was better to be prepared than sorry. The driver put down his window, his hair blowing at the blast of wintery air.
“What seems to be the problem, officer?”
Georgia scanned the handsome man behind the wheel and checked for any signs of inebriation or other trouble. A second perusal, however, was all for her benefit. Rarely did she see a man that could take her breath away, but he was one of those. He had tanned skin with dark blond hair that caressed the lobes of his ears. Although he wore a coat, she could tell he was all muscles beneath the worn-to-perfection leather. Judging from his height, even while sitting, she guessed he was several inches over six feet tall. The laugh lines around his green eyes crinkled with his wide smile. Better yet, it was a smile that held no malice.
She felt her body stiffen with an unfamiliar sensation. Heat hit her even though she wore her heavy policeman jacket and was used to the cold December weather. In fact, if the heat got any stronger, she’d have to start stripping off a layer of clothing. That would be hard to explain to the captain on her shift.
“May I see your identification and registration, sir?” She bent a little lower and got a good look at the passenger. He was just as yummy as the driver. His hair was darker, but he had the same chiseled chin, the same piercing light green eyes. If she had to make a guess, she’d say they were related, possibly brothers. Finding not one, but two hot men during a routine pull over was unusual. Not that she’d do anything about it, but it made her shift a little more interesting. Interesting in a good way, which beat the hell out of interesting in a bad way.
A quick check of the interior of the vehicle found nothing out of the ordinary. She took a moment as she always did to check her gut. Listening to her instincts had saved her more than once. She suspected that they weren’t hiding anything.
“Here you go, officer. Could you tell me why you pulled me over?”
His voice was like smooth whiskey in front of a roaring fire. It went down like silk, but if a person didn’t watch it, it could pack quite a punch. She gave him another once-over, quickly imagining him leaning over her while she stretched out on a luxurious fur rug.
She mentally brushed the enticing image away and took his information. A glance had her noting that she’d guessed correctly. Paul Casing was six feet, three inches tall. His license said he hailed from a town in Texas called Pleasure. It was an odd name for a town, but a memorable one.
“Mr. Casing, one of your brake lights is out.”
“Is it?”
Damn, that voice could make a woman drool. It was more like a fine wine than whiskey. It was intoxicating, making her want to lean over with her lips parted, ready for a kiss. Ready for anything.
Irritation flooded her. When had she ever felt that way? Especially while on duty?
She frowned as she jerked her mind back to the conversation. She’d almost forgotten what they were talking about.
“I didn’t realize. Thanks for telling me. I’ll tell the rental company about it tomorrow.”
She looked again at his paperwork, intent on keeping her mind on her duty. The car wasn’t registered in his name. If it wasn’t a rental, maybe stolen, then Mack would let her know. Her instinct told her that he wasn’t the car thief type.
“Are you in town for business or pleasure, Mr. Casing?” Somehow the title of mister didn’t fit. She wasn’t sure why, but he deserved a loftier title, one that would command obedience. Yet she had no clue what that title would be.
The moment she looked up and their gazes met, she was sure he’d say he was there for pleasure. Pure, unadulterated, steamy and sultry pleasure. Something about Paul and his friend reeked of pleasure of a very sinful kind.
“Business.” He took her in, giving her a good once-over. “Unless you’ve got other ideas.”