Hotter Than Hell(81)
“I want answers,” Frank said, “and I want them fast.”
And that was probably why Ethan hated personal connections. Hard to do your job properly when someone closely connected rode your back.
I glanced at the file in my hand. The teenagers had gone missing from Wild Dog Creek, a small beachside town about ten minutes beyond the popular Apollo Bay. “Getting accommodations at the height of summer holidays is going to be a problem.”
“My sister-in-law has a guest house. She’s putting you up there.”
I glanced briefly at Ethan. He still wasn’t giving much away, but the taste of his displeasure was thicker in the air. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“Mari won’t get in the way of the investigation.”
The problem wasn’t so much his sister-in-law or the investigation. It was more me staying with a man I was only barely resisting.
“Why the two of us?” I asked. “I can handle a missing person case by myself. I don’t need Ethan to babysit.”
Frank raised his eyebrows at that. “Do you have a problem with Ethan?”
Yeah, he was too damn sexy for my own good. I had a hard enough time resisting the man in the few minutes our paths crossed each day—how much more difficult was it going to be if I had to spend all day and all night with him?
Spending that much time together could only have one result—us in bed, getting hot and heavy. My sex drive was perfectly normal, even if the works were a little rusty, and there was no denying the fact I did want him. I just didn’t want to end up getting hurt. Thanks to my parents, I wasn’t very good at the casual stuff, and Ethan was the sort of man I could fall for. Except he didn’t seem to want a relationship of any kind.
“I just think it’s a waste of resources,” I said, then realized just what I’d said the minute Frank’s expression darkened.
“It’s my company and my people, and I’ll send who I damn well please to find my nephew.” He glared at me for several seconds, then said, “Now get going.”
I got. Outside the door, I said, “This is going to suck big time.”
“The job, or the fact that I’m going with you?”
I glanced at him, saw the amusement playing about the mouth I so wanted to kiss again. “What do you think?”
“I think your psi abilities mesh extremely well with my pragmatism and innate ability to track a killer, which is why Frank put us on this one.”
“Probably.” I punched the elevator button and crossed my arms. And tried not to think about constricted space and what had happened not so long ago. “It still sucks.”
He leaned casually against the wall. And managed to look so damn hot my hormones started their crazy cartwheels again.
“Why are you so afraid of being alone with me?”
“I’m not afraid of being alone with you.”
He smiled. A long, slow, dangerous smile. “Then it’s game on, Ravioli.”
I knew in that moment my resolution to keep him at arm’s length was in big, big trouble.
CHAPTER 2
THE SO-CALLED GUEST HOUSE TURNED OUT TO BE A tiny little cabin barely big enough to contain the ancient old brass bed that dominated the main room. A creaky-looking wooden table and several chairs were squeezed into one corner, and in the other, a small kitchenette. The door leading to the bathroom was at the other end of the tiny house, on the left side of the bed.
Which was my side. Heaven only knew I’d need plenty of cold showers to get through the night without giving in to the delicious temptation that would be lying beside me.
“What can you tell me about the night your son disappeared, Mrs. Symmonds?” Ethan said, throwing his sports bag on the bed beside my case.
He’d packed light. I’d packed heavy. Lots of layers was now my motto, whatever the actual temperature.
Mari took a shuddery breath, and exhaled it softly. She was a small, pale woman with even paler hair. Not an albino, because her eyes were brown, but she still possessed that almost ethereal delicateness albinos often had. It was rare for a cat shifter to give off that sort of vibe, because they were usually the independent, don’t-you-worry-about-me types, but maybe it was simply the stress of the situation.
“He went to bed at ten, as usual. His light was still on at eleven, so he was probably online, chatting.” She shrugged. “He does that most nights.”
“And you went to bed when?” Ethan asked, his voice all business, all matter-of-fact.
Which should have put me at ease, but didn’t. After the long, close-quarters drive down here, I was still far too aware of the man. I blew out a breath, and tried to concentrate on her voice, listening for anything out of place in her answers that might help find the missing teenagers.