Undercover Hunter(93)

                She knew what she should answer, but it was too late. His words had stoked desire in her instantly, pushing it from the back burner right to the front, and it was set to a high flame.

                “This is insane,” she heard herself mumble.

                “Maybe.” But instead of dropping the subject, he came toward her and held out his hand.

                Now that they’d crossed the first line, she could no longer pretend to herself that he wasn’t a fabulous figure of a man. Broad shouldered, narrow hipped, his chiseled face softened with a small smile.

                But it was more than that that drew her to him. Despite their rocky start—and she had to admit she’d set out to be difficult because she had misinterpreted him—he had remained on an even, respectful keel. Not once had he attempted to diminish her mind or her skills. Truly a new experience for her. The few men she had dated— mistakes!—had always eventually tried to find some way to reduce her. When the power plays and the criticisms had begun, she’d invariably taken a hike.

                But she’d been in close quarters with Cade for days now, and not in the least little way had he tried to devalue her.

                That made him unique in her experience.

                He was still holding his hand out to her, and she reached for it. Whether they were burning bridges or building them, she had no idea. She just knew she couldn’t pass this up.

                * * *

                Cade was past arguing with himself. The bug had bit. He wanted this woman again, craved her. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on what was so special about her, but she was special. Attractive, yes. Smart, certainly. A good detective, among the best. She consistently impressed him, and without her thorns he’d dropped his caution.

                Maybe that had been a mistake, but the mistake had already been made. She might never want to see him again after this case, might even have good reason, but at least they could steal a few blazing moments of pure delight in between rounds of shadowboxing with this killer.

                At that point he was past caring whether she’d learned something important that day or if they were headed to another dead end. Events would unfold one way or another, but right now he wanted to bury himself in her.

                One thing for sure, reality wasn’t going away. Hell, maybe what was happening between them was real, too. Maybe it wasn’t just a fleeting attraction and a need for brief escape from the ugliness they were forced to deal with.

                He liked her, he wanted her, and he decided to put his head on hold for a while and just enjoy the next hours with her. Little enough to ask when they’d been thrown into the vile maelstrom of a serial killer.

                The bedroom was still dark, the curtains drawn. Some light seeped in around them, enough to guide them as they faced each other and undressed. The air became pregnant with expectation and the enticing scent of growing arousal. Even before he had shucked his jeans, he was throbbing so hard he thought he’d burst. His entire being seemed to exist between his legs, everything becoming irrelevant except the woman who faced him, steadily revealing her exquisite charms.

                And they were exquisite. Keeping herself in shape had kept her shape perfect. Life had endowed her with just enough womanly charm—full but not overlarge breasts with brown, engorged nipples, a small waist and flaring hips. Height had given her long, graceful legs and gently tapering lines, the sight of which made his mouth grow dry.

                He filled himself with the sight of her, and then she startled him with a small laugh.

                “Cade,” she said, “I’m cold again.”