She pulled away, heart racing, almost unable to catch her breath.
She had no words. A year of pent-up sexual frustration over this man had nearly exploded; seeing him last night had completely messed her up. What was she thinking?
She wasn’t. Attraction did that. Hot, physical lust caused smart women to lose their brain cells.
The way Matt was staring at her, like he wanted to strip her naked, made her stomach flip. She flushed. Her skin burned. If they were anyplace else, he wouldn’t have to strip her because she’d already be naked.
“I’ve been dreaming about taking you to bed the moment you walked out of my house last year,” Matt said.
“This can’t be a good idea.”
What had she said? Of course it was a good idea! She hadn’t had sex in over a year. She was attracted to Matt. He was attracted to her.
“It’s a damn good idea, just not in my office.”
She glanced around. “Maybe if we just get it out of our system. One night, we’ll get over this, whatever it is.”
“Is that what you want? One night of sex? Do you think that’s what I want?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think right now.” She licked her lips.
He smiled, a slow, seductive curve of his mouth. “After I take you to bed, Alexandra, neither of us will be satisfied with just one night.”
“Maybe we won’t be compatible.”
Matt laughed and walked over to his desk. “I’ll ask Zoey to run a copy of everything we gave Detective Jefferson. It’ll be ready in an hour, I’ll have her set you up in a conference room so you have privacy.”
“Thanks,” Alex said and walked to the door. This whole conversation had gotten out of hand. She didn’t know what to think.
“And Alex?”
She turned and looked at him over her shoulder.
“We’re very compatible.”
Chapter Ten
Alex spent the rest of the afternoon at the D.A.’s office going through all the cases that Travis Hart prosecuted during his tenure. She wasn’t done, but there was one case that caught her eye and she left Matt a note to look at it.
The case itself wasn’t all that suspicious, but what caught her eye was the address on River Road. It seemed familiar, but she didn’t know why. She wrote it down to look at later. If she had the case file here, it might trigger her memory, so she also added to the note that she wanted to see a copy.
Before she knew it, Zoey knocked on the door and told her it was 5:30 and she was leaving. Alex thanked her, then practically ran to the hotel parking garage six blocks away. She had to pay a small fortune to get her car out and worse, because it was rush hour and she had to navigate the one-way streets and traffic lights, it took her nearly ten minutes to drive the point eight miles to her apartment.
She ran up the stairs to her fourth floor flat because the elevator was taking too long. Already, it was after six. Quick shower, but she didn’t wash her thick, straight dark hair because it would take too long to dry. Standing naked in the bathroom, she put on some make-up while her curling iron was heating up.
What the hell was she supposed to wear? This wasn’t a date ... it was a professional meeting. But a suit didn’t seem appropriate. What would get Hart to talk to her? To be comfortable? Without thinking that she wanted to date him? That would be ... awkward, to say the least. She didn’t picture herself as the next Mata Hari.
She shivered. Mata Hari had been executed as a spy. Bad comparison.
She snapped her fingers. Alex knew exactly what to do. Sexy, but professional. She slipped on her lone push-up bra, an white lacy camisole, then a long black skirt and a short-waisted black jacket with white piping.
She didn’t own a lot of dress-up clothes because she never had a need to dress-up. But she’d bought this for a Christmas party a couple years ago and had only worn it to a few functions her dad insisted she attend.
Alex ran back to the bathroom and put a few loose curls in her hair, fluffed it with hair spray, and figured she looked presentable. Even her father, who’d once lamented that he’d had three boys instead of the girl the doctor promised him, would be impressed.
The buzzer downstairs rang. She pressed the intercom and responded, “I’ll be right down.” She didn’t really want Hart coming up here, so she slipped on black flats—no way was she wearing heels—sprayed a bit of perfume around her, and took the elevator down, her heart racing.
Calm down. There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like you have to sleep with the guy to get information.
By the time the elevator hit the lobby, Alex was calm.
Travis Hart wore a different suit than he’d been in earlier. “You changed,” she said.
“So have you,” he responded with a grin. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” She glanced out to the street. “Where’s the CHP?”
“I hired a driver for the evening.”
“Is the driver a licensed bodyguard?”