Don't Walk Away (DreamMakers #3)

Damn it. Time to try a different ploy. “What is it with you rent-a-cops all wanting to sneak a peek at my credentials? My I.D. doesn’t give my measurements. Not that you couldn’t pretty much take my pulse right now, along with whatever info you want.”


She squirmed a little to prove her point.

All she accomplished was to knock the shoulder off her cover-up, along with giving her complete and utter proof that her human flytrap was rocking one hell of a pumped body. Including one hell of a solid in the groin, if that thing digging into her hip wasn’t a concealed weapon.

God, guys really did walk around with a boner ninety percent of the time.

“I recognize you,” he said softly.

Shit. “Probably not. San Francisco is a big town, and I’m pretty new and—”

He put his lips to her ear. “I used to work with the police department. My sister is friends with your boss’s fiancée.”

“Really? Small world after all.” She was so annoyed she’d been spotted. “So, you mind letting me go, then?”

“Not so quick, sweetheart. Why are you here?”

“To swim?” She sucked for air when he chuckled, his rough jaw rubbing her bare shoulder. “You said you know who I work for. Why do you think I’m here, Einstein?”

“That’s the trouble, I don’t know for sure.” He stood and lifted her off her feet, twirling them into a hidden alcove beside the stairwell. Damn him, he shoved his leg between hers again, the heavy weight of his body sealing her to the wall like concrete paint.

And now the equipment she’d been trying to ignore was pressed to her belly and there was no pretending it didn’t exist. Still, she tried. “I’m following her ladyship on the specific request of his lordship. Clear enough?”

He caught hold of her chin and forced her head up. Damn, the man was cut and gorgeous, steely blue-gray eyes fixed on hers.

“I know who you used to work for as well.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m a civilian now,” she insisted. When he didn’t move, she lost her temper and snapped at him. “Go ahead and search me if you think I’ve managed to get in here with my assault rifle. Maybe it’s in my bikini top. Maybe you should strip search me.”

For a split second his focus wavered, his gaze drifting down the gaping cover-up and lingering on her curves.

Taking full advantage of his distraction, Gillian raised the knee between his legs hard, and as he crumpled backward, shoved herself off the wall. Two steps took her through the exit door, and then she was flying down the emergency stairs to freedom.

Well now. That had not been boring.

She skipped returning to the changing room for now—she’d grab her clothes out of the locker another day. Now she just had to explain to Parker why she’d left the building without her equipment, and a rush of frustration struck again.

Damn the man.

Not Parker, but the wall of sexy who’d gotten the jump on her. The urge to retaliate was strong, and she fought it for all of thirty seconds. Screw being nice—she wanted a name for her nemesis.

Maybe the rest of the day wouldn’t be so boring after all. She had some digging to do to find out exactly who it was that had messed up her assignment.

And it seemed she’d be starting with a call to Suz…





Chapter Five


Emma spent the rest of the day trying to focus on work, which proved impossible when her mind was still obsessing over Dean Colter. Instead of getting anything done, she found herself pacing her rented executive suite, wearing a hole in the carpeting as she wandered, too antsy to sit down.

She was renting the suite until the New Year, and although she’d only been living there for a couple of weeks, it was already showing signs of her organized-mess approach to life. Sketchpads and tracing paper were strewn on the dining-room table, along with the hundreds of photographs she’d taken around the city since she’d gotten there. She still wasn’t sure which direction to go in, but she’d found inspiration usually struck when she least expected it, and she had no doubt the Bay Area line she was in the process of designing would be as successful as her previous creations.

But no inspiration was striking today, not when she couldn’t stop obsessing over everything Suz had told her.

I don’t think you could make the man blink with any request, but no matter what he’s doing, it’s all about worshiping women. In bed and out.

Suz was wrong, though. Dean didn’t worship anyone but himself. He’d made that painfully clear eleven years ago.