“I wasn’t referring to me.”
He reached her, pulling her close and slipping her sodden shirt over her head. “My wet shirt is tempting?” she inquired skeptically.
“You bet.” A spiral of heat shot through her as he lowered his lips to her throat.
“Not that wet trousers aren’t tempting, too. And,” she added lightly, “the seaweed on your socks and that smell of motor oil…I’m all aquiver.”
“You are, you know.”
She ignored that. He was tugging on the wet button of her jeans, too frustrated with his task to volunteer more. She slipped her arms around him. Her breath was coming a little too fast. “Detective, you’re keeping something from me.”
“Not on purpose.”
“Jake.”
His arms enfolded her. His fingers slipped up her back, finding the hook of her bra. “This stuff you wear…” His words were husky and garbled as he lowered his head, nuzzling the rise of her breasts above the lace of the bra. “Great underwear.” He gently fingered the shoulder straps then, causing the garment to fall to the floor at their feet.
“Jake…”
He moved back an inch. “Okay, how about I seduce you with my eloquence? Carnegie has arranged for twenty-four-hour official police protection for your friend.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“He’s doing this for you?”
“If I say yes, will you be more tempted to stay?”
“I’m staying no matter what you tell me,” she informed him huskily.
It was Jake who paused then, not moving away, but taking the time to talk to her. “I have to take off really early tomorrow. I want to be on the road by four. I got a message from one of Bordon’s fellow inmates. I checked out the number, and it was legitimate. I think Bordon is afraid of someone, and he said he wants to talk to me. Unless he’s pulling some kind of a con on me. Whatever the situation, I have to go. But I’ll be back tomorrow night. Maybe late, but I’ll be back. And then I’ll look into the situation with your friend, Stuart Fresia. Carnegie has some information that I need to look into more deeply. I promise you, I swear to you, that we’ll get it figured out.”
Her limbs seemed to grow cold again. She should take whatever she could get. She needed the help, and there was no reason to refuse it. Except…except for the way she felt about him.
“You—you don’t have to do that, you know,” she heard herself say stiffly. “You don’t have to take on work that isn’t yours for my benefit. Looking into Stuart’s case just because he’s my friend,” she added. She could have kicked herself. She needed and wanted all the help she could get. “I won’t let it go,” she told him. “I’ll never let it go, because I know Stuart. But you’re not…required to feel the same way.”
“Don’t you go doing anything,” he told her flatly.
She felt her temper bristle. “I’m obviously not an idiot. I was one of the top trainees in my class.”
“Ashley, no one is doubting your intelligence. But diving into things without knowing what you’re doing is dangerous.”
“Because I’m a woman.”
“For anyone. Anyone without experience and training.”
“Right. ’Cuz you started out with experience, of course.”
“Ashley, do me a favor. Sit back and give me a lousy few days. I don’t want you diving in headfirst because you really don’t know what you’re doing. And, yes, I do know. And as to Stuart’s case, taking it on won’t just be a favor to you. I’ll look into it because it might have been an attempted homicide. And I’m hoping that by tomorrow I’ll have some answers regarding the Bordon murders. And Cassie Sewell.”
“And your partner?” she asked quietly.
He nodded. “And Nancy.”
They were both still standing there, dripping. Almost touching. Seconds ticked by, and they remained, staring at one another.
“You really need those answers, don’t you?” she asked.
“I really want those answers,” he replied.
She was quiet for a moment, watching him.