Legal Heat

Chapter Sixteen


“You didn’t have to carry me. I can walk perfectly well.”

Katy clung to Mark’s neck as he carried her into his apartment. Over the threshold. Like newlyweds.

“You’re supposed to rest.” He locked the door with her still in his arms.

Katy looked around the bright, spacious penthouse. The minimalist décor didn’t suit him. Stiff brown and tan leather sectionals, wooden cube tables and geometric prints. A few artfully arranged sculptures dotted the shelves and a massive brown granite island gleamed in the kitchen. Cold and impersonal. Unlived in and unloved. Still the view took her breath away. His penthouse took up the entire top level of the building. Floor to ceiling windows showcased Coal Harbor and Stanley Park only a stone’s throw away. “It’s…nice.”

Mark huffed a laugh. “It was a show suite. I didn’t have time to buy furniture and decorate it myself, and I’m rarely here except to sleep.” He jerked his thumb toward a massive wooden double door at the far end of the open-plan living space. “The bedroom is down that way, which is where you’re going to be spending the next few days. I called your babysitter and she’ll bring Melissa and Justin whenever you feel up to seeing them.”

Katy swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You didn’t have to do this. I have friends who could have helped out.” His care and compassion, and his easy acceptance of her children touched her deeply.

“People work.” He settled her on a carved wooden bench in the hallway and removed her shoes.

“So do you.” She had recovered all her memories, save for the day before the shooting. But Dr. Watson had been optimistic it wouldn’t take long.

“You’ll discover one of the benefits of partnership is not having to answer to anyone for your time. I don’t have anything pressing this week…unless you sent over another court application behind my back.”

Katy blushed and shook her head. She didn’t want to think about work, or the case. She felt safe here. Hidden away from the world.

A wave of fatigue hit her. Maybe she wouldn’t fuss about lying down after all. But she would have to borrow a shirt from Mark. All she had to wear were her clothes from the hospital. Steven had refused to pack her a bag and had forbidden the children from bringing her clothes.

She looked down at the faded cotton shirt the nurse had given her from the charity box to replace the shirt and jacket the paramedics had cut off in the ambulance. Not a very good match for her suit skirt. If she hadn’t been so desperate to get out of the hospital, she might have taken Mark up on his offer to buy her something to wear.

“What’s this?” She brushed at a flaking, dark brown stain on her skirt. Where had it come from? She hadn’t noticed it at the hospital, but then she had dressed as quickly as she could in case Steven found out she was leaving.

“Blood.”

Katy startled at Mark’s gruff tone, and a shiver crept up her spine.

“Blood?” She didn’t deal well with the sight of blood. Steven had always been the one to fix up major cuts and scrapes.

“The gash on your head bled a lot. Martin bled on you. Your shoulder…” His voice cracked. “There was so much blood…I thought you were dead.”

Her gasp echoed in the quiet apartment. “Martin?”

“He didn’t make it.” Somehow she had known the answer, but hearing it brought a wave of emotion to the surface.

Oh God. I’m covered in a dead man’s blood.

“Get it off! Get it off!” she shrieked, pushing herself off the bench. She struggled with button in the back. “Mark, please, get it off me,” she begged.

He crossed the hallway in a heartbeat, ripped the button open and slid the skirt over her hips. Then he scooped her up and carried her into a huge marble bathroom, cradling her in his arms while he turned on the water.

Less than a minute later, stripped bare, she stood under the warm, soothing spray of his enormous shower. Mark undressed and slid in behind her, pulling her down onto his lap as he settled himself on the marble bench. Under the soothing cascade of warm water, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

For the longest time, they didn’t move.

Katy closed her eyes and felt her tension ease under the pulsing beat of the shower and the steady beat of Mark’s heart against her back.

She shifted on the bench, wiggling to find a more comfortable position. Mark gave a sharp groan and pulled her closer, his erection pressing firmly against her bottom.

Raw need replaced fear. Dr. Watson hadn’t said anything about avoiding sex. She wiggled again, slowly this time, grinding herself against his shaft.

Mark unlocked his arms and slid her forward, away from him. “This wasn’t such a good idea,” he rasped.

He trickled soap down her back and massaged gently, taking care to avoid her shoulder. Katy breathed in the familiar sandalwood scent and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Were you at the courthouse when it happened?”

“Up.” He helped her stand and placed her hands against the glass wall of the shower. All business, he rubbed shampoo into her hair and massaged her scalp until her eyelids briefly slid closed.

“I got there just after you were shot.” He rinsed her hair and then ran his hand down her back to cup her bottom.

“And James? Is he involved because of Martin?”

He bent down and lathered her legs with long, firm strokes. “He asked his sergeant to take on the case as a favor to me.” He rubbed toward her inner thighs, and her insides tightened. She must be well on her way to recovery if all she could think about was sex.

“Mark?” Her voice was soft, questioning.

“No.” With a gruff bark, he shoved her legs together and pulled her back against his chest. Soapy hands smoothed over her stomach, around her ribs and across her hips. She lifted her arm, drawing his attention to her breasts.

A sharp pain quelled her arousal.

“My shoulder.” She pointed to the huge wad of bandages covering her left shoulder and upper arm. “Should I be in the shower?”

“Probably not, but Trixie is coming over later to change the dressing. Just keep it still.” He cupped her breasts, sliding his slippery fingers around them in a satin caress. How could anything feel so good? Her head dropped back against his shoulder and his fingers teased her nipples into hard buds. Katy groaned in frustration.

“You can’t say no and then touch me like that.”

“I can do anything I want. You’re too weak to fight me.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the teasing note in his voice. “I’m not that weak. I’m pretty sure I could—”

“And I like the little sounds you make.” He nuzzled her neck and pinched her nipples again. Desire sizzled through her and she moaned.

“God. Just like that,” he whispered in her ear. He rubbed her breasts again, but without the soap the friction aroused her even more.

Her eyelids slid closed. “I need…”

“You need to be thoroughly washed. They only sponged you down at the hospital and they didn’t get off all the blood.”

He lifted her knee and placed it on the bench. “Open for me, sugar.”

Katy parted her legs and his fingers slid through her wet folds, with a teasing, feather-light touch.

“Stop. Mark. You’re torturing me. Haven’t I been through enough?”

“So hot and wet.” His words, and the rough edge to his voice, sent her arousal soaring out of control.

Using her own moisture, he stroked his finger over her swollen *. Katy struggled to stay still but her hips tilted, straining to his touch. She yearned for release and the mind-numbing pleasure of climax under his sensual fingers.

“Mark…” She leaned back and pressed herself against his hot, hard shaft.

“Okay, we’re done.” He turned off the shower and stepped outside.

“We’re done?” Water beaded off her heated skin and she shuddered with the ache of unfulfilled need. “I don’t want to be done.”

“Out.” He held up a fluffy towel and she stepped onto the bathmat—beige, like everything else.

“But…I need you,” she groaned.

He dried her completely and with a brusque efficiency that made her head spin. “You’re just out of the hospital. You need rest.”

“What was that in the shower?”

“Me being stupid.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath when he lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “I’m not broken.”

“You will be if I don’t put you to bed.” He pushed open the double doors to reveal a modern, low-rise bed with a massive padded leather headboard. Very masculine. Very bachelor. Very big for one person.

He threw back the blankets and settled her in the bed. Katy moaned with disappointment when he drew the sheet over her, covering her with excruciating gentleness.

If he noticed, he didn’t say. Instead he tucked the blankets around her, adding a thick feather comforter so heavy and warm her body melted into the mattress. The silk sheets slid decadently around her, and the slick touch on her sensitive flesh almost sent her over the edge.

“Don’t go,” she whispered as sleep overcame desire.

“I’m not going anywhere, sugar.” He climbed on the bed and put his arm around her, holding her tight as she drifted away.





Mark paced up and down the hallway outside his bedroom. Trixie had come and gone and Katy had fallen asleep after her dressing had been changed. He had managed to distract himself with work for a few hours, but he could no longer resist the pull of the beauty in his bed.

An unfamiliar peace had settled over him when he realized he would have her all to himself. Here nothing could come between them. He could indulge his desire to look after her. Protect her. Hold her.

He pushed open the door, stripped down to his underwear, and lay down on the bed beside her. He had done her no favors by allowing his needs to spill out of the courtroom and into their personal lives. But after almost losing her, he was glad he had taken the risk.

He drew back the covers and trailed his fingers between her breasts and over her stomach to her bare mound with only the lightest of touches. So beautiful. Her skin glowed in the moonlight streaming through the window. He circled each nipple, delighted when they pebbled beneath his touch. So responsive. Even in her sleep.

He should leave her alone. Let her rest. But his body refused to move.

She whimpered and he realized his fingers had been rolling and pinching her nipples of their own accord. He slid his hand between her legs and ran a finger along her folds. So wet. For him.

Trixie, with her usual lack of inhibition, had informed him he wouldn’t hurt Katy if he wanted to take advantage of having her captive in his apartment. But he had to be gentle.

Gentle.

It had been a long time, but he could do gentle.

Katy stirred and he leaned over and ran his tongue in light circles around her nipples before taking one in his mouth and sucking it into a hard peak.

She awakened with a gasp. “Oh God.”

“No, sugar, just me.”

Her eyes, when they focused on him, were half lidded with sleep and the stirring of arousal. “What are you doing?”

He leaned over to kiss away the little worry lines creasing her forehead. “Looking after you.” He sucked her nipple and then nipped gently. Katy arched her back and moaned.

“I thought you were going to let me rest.”

Mark turned her on her side and pulled her back into his chest, cupping her soft, warm breast and squeezing lightly. “I changed my mind.”

She winced and gave a soft cry.

Damn. He had forgotten about her shoulder. “Sugar, I’m sorry.” He helped her roll back and pushed himself off the bed. “I’ll get you some pain killers.”

“No.” Her voice rose. “Please don’t leave. We just need to be careful.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me if you misbehave properly. No teasing and leaving. And no rolling.”

He chuckled and lay down beside her again. “Well then I want you to lie still and let me give you what you need, and I’ll take my pleasure in giving it to you.”

She huffed her disapproval. “I want to touch you.”

“Hard to do when you can’t move your arm or your shoulder.” He propped himself up on his elbow, tracing circles over the smooth, taut skin of her belly. “But if you have a problem with the other hand, I can restrain that one too.”

He shook his head and mentally chastised himself.

Gentle does not involve tying her up.





Mark’s deep, velvety kisses branded Katy’s lips, filling her senses. Pleasure washed over her in languid waves, chasing away the last remnants of sleep.

His mouth moved lower, painting from her throat to the crease of her breasts with soft, brushed kisses. His hands replaced his lips, cupping and squeezing until she ached under his touch.

“I like my scent on you,” he murmured. “It tells me you’re mine.”

She shuddered and gave in to the deep hunger unraveling inside her, the need to be possessed utterly and completely by the man who had not left her side for five days. For this moment in time, there was nothing but him, his warm breath on her skin, his gentle caress and the tortuous exploration of his wet, silken tongue.

His hot kisses moved lower, down her sternum to her belly button. He teased and tortured the neglected area before grazing his chin over her mound.

Katy panted in anticipation as he blew a hot breath over her folds. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, guiding him to where she wanted him to go.

How many nights had she lain beside Steven imagining a lover like this? A lover who wanted to touch her. Tease her. Drive her insane with pleasure.

“Hands off, sugar.”

He abandoned her aching sex and continued his exploration of her body, as if she were a new land to be discovered. He licked and kissed every finger and every toe and the hollows of her ankles, wrists, elbows and neck. He nuzzled the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, whispered in her ear and sifted his fingers through her hair.

Her world narrowed to each heated touch and lingering caress. The scent of sandalwood enveloped her as she writhed on the cool, silk sheets and licked his minty taste off her lips. Sensation piled on sensation until need filled her with such an ache; a carnal groan escaped her lips.

“I need you inside me. Now.”

“Not yet.” His fingers dipped into her body, spreading her moisture along her folds and up around her sensitive *, stroking until it throbbed.

“Please.” Katy jerked her hips in a silent plea for more as his agonizingly delicious touch sent flames of need licking through her body, burning the last clouds from her mind.

“Trust me.”

She barely heard him as images tumbled into her mind. The missing pieces. The day before the shooting. Silver, James, the end of the conflict, the boardroom and the silence.

She stiffened and edged away.

Mark froze. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Katy shook her head and swallowed hard. “I remember. That night in your boardroom. I trusted you and you turned your back on me.”

He pushed himself up beside her. “Katy…I made—”

She cut him off with a finger over his lips. “I don’t know much about guys. My Dad left when I was young. I had a few boyfriends in high school, and then I met Steven. But I suspect there aren’t many men who would spend five days and give up a week’s worth of billable hours to sit beside an injured…friend. Or who would take her into his home to care for her, just to save her from the clutches of her irritating ex-husband.” She threaded her fingers through his thick, sable hair. “Tell me it wasn’t just for fun,” she whispered. “Tell me it was something more. Tell me you don’t regret it.”

Mark shuddered and slanted his mouth over hers. The now familiar taste of him spiked through her, sending quivers of need down her spine.

“It was something more,” he murmured against her lips. “So much more that I was afraid of hurting you. And yet, that’s exactly what I did. I regret that more than you could know. I’m sorry, sugar.”

“How sorry?” Her bottom lip trembled.

He gave her a cheeky grin and pushed himself down her body, settling himself between her legs. “Very, very sorry,” he rasped. He peppered little kisses along her inner thighs until he reached her aching center, and then he licked down through her folds with one long, luscious stroke.

Katy gasped and her hips jerked off the bed. Mark’s firm hands held her down and he licked again, this time flicking his tongue over her *.

The muscles of her thighs tightened as she tried to angle herself to where she wanted his mouth to be. But when his tongue pushed inside her swollen tissues, a long desperate wail left her lips.

“Does that feel good, sugar?”

* throbbing for attention, she nodded and arched her back, seeking out the delicious torment even as it pushed her to the edge of her control.

“I want to hear you say it.” He sank a finger all the way inside her. “Tell me.”

“Yesssss. It feels good. So good. Don’t stop.”

He stopped and pulled away.

Katy sucked in a sharp breath. “Nooooo. I said don’t stop.”

His voice dropped, cracked. “I need to be inside you, sugar. I need to feel you everywhere. I need to know I haven ‘t lost you.”

She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then his warm body lowered over hers. His heart drummed wildly beneath her palms and she arched into him, seeking the fulfilling sensation of having him buried inside her. The tip of his erection teased against her swollen entrance and she moaned.

“Maybe that’s enough. I think I’ve paid the penalty for hurting you.”

Katy glared. “Are you kidding? You’ll have to try harder than that.” Anything to get him inside her. She had forgiven him, but he didn’t need to know it. Not yet.

He grunted with satisfaction and plunged into her, hard and deep, sending shock waves of unbelievable pleasure through her body. Her hips wiggled uncontrollably, her sex clenched and her body coiled tighter and tighter. He slid in and out, increasing his rhythm, building her tension.

Katy dug her nails into the tense, hard muscles of his back. His hand slid between them and he pinched her nub firmly, changing his thrusts to a hammering pace. The room became a red haze as hot, blinding shards of pleasure consumed her. Sensation swept everything from its path, filling her with ecstasy as her sex clenched over and over again in a firestorm so intense, she barely registered when he gripped her hips and came with a low guttural groan.





When Katy’s body finally softened beneath him, Mark kissed her softly, tasting her sweetness. Her long, silky lashes drifted down over her eyes, showing only a glimmer of her dark blue gaze.

He slid out of her warmth and quickly disposed of the condom. Then he lay on the bed and pulled her into his arms, wrapping the coverlet around them.

He could do gentle. Maybe he could do more. He knew, even after they left the sanctuary of his apartment, he could never give her up. He felt a connection to Katy. Maybe even the connection he had longed to have with Claire.

She gave a contented sigh as she lay on his chest. Her chestnut hair spilled across his body, as soft and silky as he had always imagined it would be.

“I never knew it could be like this.”

Neither did he. After years of casual affairs, he thought he had done it all. But Katy had opened him up. She had shown him a level of intimacy that transcended sex and moved into his heart.

“What are you thinking, sugar?”

“I was wondering how many women you’ve brought here and what sorts of things you did with them in this bed.”

“You’re the first.” The one. The only. He could not imagine sharing his inner sanctum with anyone else. “I bought this place after…” He stopped. Did he want to tell her about Claire? Could he?

“After what?” She pressed soft kisses along his jaw.

His arms tightened around her. “Claire. We were together for almost three years. She…died.”

Katy’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” She slid one hand around his neck and hugged him tight.

“Let’s talk about something else.” His gruff voice betrayed his emotion, and his arms instinctively sought the comfort of her sweet, warm body.

“Am I allowed to ask you more questions?”

He tangled his fingers through her hair, tilting her head back for a lazy kiss. “Feel free to ask, but I may not answer.”

“Do you have any kids?”

He frowned. Not the question he had expected. “No.” He ran his hand up and down her back, marveling at the silky softness of her skin.

“Do you want kids?”

“I did, but I think it’s a bit late now.”

She cocked her head to the side. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

Katy snorted a laugh. “Definitely not too late. That’s when most guys get started. I think you’d be a good dad.”

His head jerked up. “How could you possibly know that?” Except for James’s dad, he had had no role model. Dads rarely stuck around in the world of his youth, abandoning mothers and children in search of their next fix.

She reached up to caress his cheek. “Just a feeling. Sorry if I hit a nerve.”

He clenched his teeth, annoyed at his loss of control. She had an innate ability to see into his soul, unearth his deepest desires and bare them for the world to see.

“What about your parents? Do they live nearby?”

“My mother died when I was twelve. I didn’t know my dad.”

“I’m sorry again,” she murmured. “I seem to be asking all the wrong questions. Sounds like you had a hard time growing up.”

Hard did not even begin to describe the nightmare of his lost childhood.

“James’s dad saved me from a life of foster care. To this day, he won’t tell me how he managed to adopt me. He was a single parent, a cop, living on the East Side. He must have pulled every string and called in every favor. He treated me like his own son. He turned my life around.”

Emotion welled in his chest and he scrambled to change the topic of conversation. “What about your parents?”

“My dad left when I was nine,” she said in a quiet voice. “He met someone new, packed his bags and just disappeared one day. We never heard from him again. My mother spiraled into a depression. She was never the same after he left.”

No wonder trust was an issue for her. First her dad, then her husband. The men closest to her had betrayed and abandoned her.

And he had almost done the same.

He pulled her on top of him, easing her head into the hollow of his shoulder, a perfect fit.

“I loved him,” she continued. “I loved spending time with him. We had fun together. He’s the only person who ever really understood me.”

“It’s hard to lose someone you love no matter what the circumstances.” He smoothed the hair away from her face and rubbed his knuckle over her soft cheek. “Any more questions?”

“Favorite hockey team?”

He chuckled. “Some questions are too personal to answer.”

“Do you have any hobbies?”

“The club. Running. No time really for anything else.” How sad was that?

She traced her finger gently over the scar across his throat. Mark stiffened and then forced himself to relax. No one had ever touched his scar before. No one had ever wanted to.

“How did you get this?” She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He couldn’t feel anything on the scar itself, but he could feel her hot breath and her tender lips on either side. The promise of acceptance.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I want to know everything about you.”

He drew in a ragged breath. “After my mother died, I evaded the authorities by living on the streets. More than anything I wanted to avenge her death. I hunted down the dealer responsible but I was too cocky for my own good and too stupid to play by the rules. His guys caught me. He told me I was responsible for my mother’s debt. I refused to be a drug mule and he taught me a lesson I’ll never forget.” He tensed, expecting shock or horror. But instead, she snuggled closer and caressed the scar again.

“Then what happened?”

Mark took a deep breath. “James and I had been friends before my mother died. After I hit the streets, he didn’t give up on me. Every day he hunted me down and tried to get me to go home with him. I told him I was just another bad kid destined for a life of crime. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He came looking for me that day, same as every day…found me bleeding in an alley…called his Dad. They saved my life in more ways than one.”

Katy pulled herself up, sliding her body along his. His shaft stirred to life as her mound brushed over his sensitive flesh.

“I’m glad they did.” She pressed her lips against his in a slow, sweet kiss that took his breath away. He palmed her head and pulled her closer.

“So am I.”

“Sounds like you have at least one friend.” Her voice took on a teasing note and she pulled away. Mark grabbed her hips to stop her sliding back down and setting him off.

“Any others?”

“The partners,” he rasped. F*cking hard to concentrate. “A few guys from the club.”

“And me?” she whispered. “Am I your friend?” She pushed herself all the way down until her lips hovered over his shaft.

Mark groaned as she circled her tongue over the tip. “Sugar, you’re a whole lot more than that.”





Tap, tap, tap.

Lana froze when a hand knocked on her driver’s side window. A face peered in. A familiar face. Devilishly handsome.

What the hell is he doing here?

She rolled down the window and sighed loudly for effect. “Yes?”

“Well, look who it is. My favorite PI.”

Lana glared into amused blue eyes. “James.”

“Detective Hunter to you.”

She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “So formal. I thought we were friends since we know each other from the sex club. What can I do for you, Detective Hunter?”

“I suppose it depends on what kind of trouble you’re in today.”

“No trouble. Just sitting here, minding my own business. What about you? What are you doing here? Just walking down the street at seven in the morning, looking for litter? Or maybe you haven’t shouted at any PIs today and needed your fix.”

His jaw twitched and he flashed his badge in her face. “Patrolling a police restricted area.”

Lana waved the badge away. “You don’t need to show me your badge. I know you’re a cop. Or are you trying to turn me on? I have to admit I have a thing for detectives in tight jeans and kick ass biker T-shirts.”

He chuckled. “And I have a thing for sassy PIs who keep turning up where they aren’t supposed to be. Step out of the car please.”

She left the safety of her Jetta, and he motioned for her to put her hands on the hood.

Lana sighed and took the required position. “Is this really necessary? I’m just doing my job.”

“Feet apart.”

She widened her legs. A sudden wave of heat crashed through her. Sweat trickled between her breasts. What the hell? She should be afraid. She had just been caught by a cop with one hell of an attitude. Yet her body had other ideas.

“James? Are you going to frisk me or what?”

Silence.

She peered over her shoulder. He stood directly behind her, his eyes fixed on… “Hey, are you staring at my ass?”

“Did you just call me James?”

She swallowed dryly. “A slip of the tongue. But since you have me in this position, and you’ve been staring at my ass, we might as well drop the formalities.”

His gaze lifted to her own, his face expressionless. Well, not quite. His lips quivered. “I should have spanked you at the club. Might have taught you to hold that tongue. They have a special room in the back for lessons in discipline and restraint.”

Phwoar. Lana bit through her lip. After following Katy to the club, she knew all about the back room. Fantasized about it constantly. James had been part of those fantasies. Every. Damn. One. And now was he saying…?

Don’t go there.

“You even think about laying a finger on this ass and I’ll have you on the ground so fast you won’t know what hit you.” Lana swayed, glad she’d decided to wear her most flattering yoga pants for the morning stakeout. “This ass is by invitation only.”

She gave herself a mental kick and lifted her hands off the vehicle. Stop sassing the cop.

“Stay where you are,” he barked. He leaned into her car and fished around the front seat, finally pulling out her camera and notebook. “We’re going to have a more serious conversation today, by which I mean you’re going to answer my questions.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Don’t push me, Lana.”

Did he just use my name?

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Firm but not hard. A tingle ran down her spine. A nice tingle.

“Hey, police brutality,” she joked.

He yanked harder and her neck cracked. “That is police brutality, sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay. Just let me go.” She strained to look around. So far, the street had been surprisingly empty for the morning rush hour. No one to save her from the dangerously handsome cop with a penchant for pain.

He released her hair and her head flopped forward, almost hitting the Jetta’s rusted hood.

“I’m not a criminal, you know. You don’t need to get rough with me.” She paused and wiggled her ass. “Unless you want to.”

“Christ, Lana. Don’t push me. Turn around.” He had such a sexy voice. Low and husky with a hint of a rasp. The kind of voice she imagined whispering sensual promises in her ear at night.

Lana spun to face him. He was wearing a pair of worn, low-slung jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a black T-shirt with a Harley Davidson logo on the front. His face, his clothes and his stance all screamed danger. Her mouth watered.

Don’t look at the package. Don’t look at the package.

Oh my!

“You’ve now become embroiled in a police investigation,” he said. “You have a professional responsibility to assist. If you don’t want to talk to me, you can go down to the station and give your statement to one of my colleagues.”

She lifted her eyes from his package, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “No station. Ask away. How do you want me? Sitting? Standing? Or do you want me to assume the position again so you can question me and stare at my ass?”

Watch the mouth, Lana.

But she couldn’t. Something about this cop drew out the worst of her sass. And he liked it. She could see it in the quiver of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the quickened beat of the pulse in his neck.

“Just so you understand. I ask the questions. You answer. And you’ll keep that mouth of yours under control.”

Her heart sank. Maybe she had pushed too far. “Sure thing.”

Lana leaned against her Jetta and rubbed her head while he pulled out his notebook and clicked his pen.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes focused like laser beams on the gentle movement of her hand.

“Your demonstration of police brutality was very effective.”

Regret flared in his eyes. “Had to get your attention.”

“It’s okay. I’ve suffered worse and enjoyed better.”

He studied her intently and his lips parted. For a second she thought he might ask her what she meant, and she silently berated herself for the slip. She had buried her past years ago. Why her subconscious had dredged it up now, she didn’t know.

He shook his head, an almost imperceptible gesture, as if he was annoyed at himself. “I have your pictures. I know you’ve been following Katy Sinclair. Who are you working for?”

“I don’t actually know. He calls himself Mr. S. We did the transaction over the phone. He sent a key to my office. I drop my reports in a post box and he picks them up and leaves cash.”

“Risky, not knowing your client.”

She shrugged. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of a steady income. When was the last time you had cereal for dinner?”

A smile ghosted his lips. Ha. She could get under anybody’s skin.

“How long have you been following her?” James tapped his pen on his pad.

“About two weeks.”

“I’ll need the key, address of the postal unit and the box number.”

“In my bag in the car. Do I get compensated for premature termination of my contract?”

He reached into the vehicle, retrieved her backpack and dropped it on the hood of the Jetta. Lana winced when he pulled out her spare panties along with her iPod, a box of cookies, a toothbrush and a box of condoms.

“You always come prepared?” His mouth twitched as he held up the condoms.

Lana smiled and winked, determined to get him to crack a smile. “Just a box this time, not a full bag.”

He snorted and looked away. “You won’t be terminating the contract with your Mr. S. You’ll continue doing your job until we’ve identified him. I’ll make a copy of the key and have it returned to you.”

Lana grinned. “So I’m like a double agent?”

“You’re like a very green PI who is in a lot of trouble and should be grateful to have been caught by a cop with better things to do.”

Her gut twisted. Better things to do must mean hunting for the shooter since he was hanging around outside the building. Lana twirled her hair around her finger. “Is she okay?”

His eyes bored into her skull. “Were you there when she was shot?”

”I was across the street.”

“Did you see the shooter?” His eyes sparked with interest.

“I didn’t see his face. I saw where he was standing, and I took some pictures of him running away.”

A frown creased his brow. “Did you give a statement to the attending police?”

Lana shook her head. “I was too upset at the time. Plus, Mr. S gave me special instructions not to let her out of my sight. I had to find out where they were taking her. When I went home and downloaded the pictures I didn’t think anyone would want them. They weren’t very good. My hands were shaking so bad at the time they were all blurry…and I dropped the camera. ”

He scrawled something on his notepad, ripped off the paper and handed it to her along with his card. “Looks like you get a trip to the station after all. Ask for Joanna Smith. You’ll need to bring your camera and memory card. She’ll also need your key and the details of the postal outfit. Oh, and your phone. We’ll try to trace the calls you had with your Mr. S.”

He rounded her vehicle and copied her license plate number into his notebook. “If you’re not there in an hour, I’ll obtain a warrant for your arrest. Are we clear?”

Lana sighed. “Sure.”

His eyes softened. “I know it must have been hard to watch. If you need to talk to someone, there are victim support counselors—”

She held up her hand and cut him off. “I’m good. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’ve dealt with some pretty heavy stuff. I haven’t led what you would call a sheltered life.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “You know…if you change your mind, you can call me. I’ve been through…heavy stuff too.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “Thanks, Detective Hunter.”

He finally cracked a smile. “You can call me James.”