Hotter Than Hell(80)

“You’re determined to twist everything I say, aren’t you?” he said, deep voice edged with amusement.



“Yes.” Because sarcasm was my only line of safety. I was far too susceptible to this man’s charms otherwise.



I ducked under his arms as the elevator finally halted and the doors opened. The simple act of walking was an effort, because my heart still raced a million miles an hour and my legs were all fluid and wobbly. It was just as well Frank’s office was down the far end of the hall—at least it gave me time to gather some sort of composure.



Ethan reappeared by my side, his long strides curtailed to match my shorter ones.



“Why?” he said. I was still so attuned to him his voice seemed to flow over my skin as sensually as a warm summer breeze. “The attraction between us is getting stronger, and you can’t keep denying it exists.”



I could, and I would. For as long as we had to work together, and maybe even after that. “There has to be hundreds of women working in this building. Why don’t you go try your luck with the half you haven’t sampled?”



Something flashed in his eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like annoyance. “Because I’m attracted to you, not them.”



Attracted to the challenge more than the person, I suspected. “Yeah, well, I have no intention of becoming another notch on your bedpost.” As much as my hormones danced excitedly at the very idea.



“What if I promise to make that notch worthwhile?”



His grin was pure cheek, and I couldn’t help responding in kind. The man might be a dangerous rogue, but he was undoubtedly a sexy one. “Not even then.”



He stopped to open Frank’s door then ushered me through, his fingers searing my spine though his touch was feather light.



“The more you challenge me, the more determined I get,” he murmured.



His words sent another tremor racing across my skin. Lord, if what he was doing now wasn’t determination, what was? And how was I going to survive it?



Janet, Frank’s secretary, glanced up as we both walked in. “Go straight through,” she said, her gaze lingering appreciably on Ethan.



“Thanks, Janet,” he said, voice so intimate the older woman blushed.



I shook my head, and continued on through the second door. Like most werewolves, the man just couldn’t help flirting—and that was part of the problem. If I’d had any reason to believe he was after anything more serious than a quick roll in the sack, then maybe I’d reconsider—



I scratched the rest of that thought from my mind as Frank, our semi-bald boss, glanced up.



“Sit down,” he said.



“What’s the problem?” I crossed my legs so that my feet pointed away from Ethan. Even an accidental touch could be deadly given the aroused state he’d so easily worked me into.



“We’ve got a couple of missing kids I want you to look for.”



“When and where?” Ethan asked, voice becoming cool and businesslike.



Something inside me relaxed. This Ethan I could handle. It was the flirty, oh-so-sexy version of his personality that got me all flustered and out-of-sorts.



“The first was three nights ago.” Frank shoved several files across the desk. Ethan leaned forward and picked one up, quickly scanning it before handing it across to me.



I was careful not to touch his fingers and amusement flared briefly across his lush lips. The basic details were all there—name, location, and the particulars of where and how he’d gone missing.



I looked up. “Were there any threats? Ransom demands? Anything to suggest this was a standard crime?”



Frank shook his head. “The kid disappeared from his bedroom in the middle of the night. No evidence of a break-in, and all the doors and windows were still locked in the morning.”



“From the inside?”



He flicked a glance my way. “Yeah.”



Meaning someone had a key. Ghosts might be able to get past locked doors and windows, but humans—large or small—couldn’t.



“Why were we called in?” Ethan asked. “The official investigation would still be underway. We usually don’t get pulled in until after the dust has settled.”



“A second teenager went missing last night under the same circumstances.” Frank pushed the other file closer. “That teenager is my nephew.”



“Ah.” Ethan’s voice was neutral, and yet as attuned as I currently was to the man, I sensed his distaste. He hated jobs that involved personal connections—though he’d never actually said why.