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Kisses Like a Devil

Page 27

by Diane Whiteside


  “What happened to Riley?”

  “Who?”

  “The current office manager.”

  “I think she’s on maternity leave.”

  “That must be news to his wife.”

  She met his cool gaze. “Okay, obviously I’m new. I don’t know all the details since I’ve only been here a week.”

  “Here, being my cabin, of course.”

  “Stone told me that the person who used to live here had left.”

  “Ah.” His eyes were the deepest, most solid green she’d ever seen as they regarded her. “I did leave. I also just came back.”

  She winced, clutching the covers a little tighter to her chest. “So this cabin…does it belong to an ax murderer?”

  That tugged a rusty-sounding laugh from him. “Haven’t sunk that low. Yet.” Pulling off his cap, he shoved his fingers through his hair. With those sleepy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, and at least two days’ growth on his jaw, he looked big and bad and edgy—and quite disturbingly sexy with it. “I need sleep,” he said, and dropped his long, tough self to the chair by the bed, as if so weary he could no longer stand. He set first one and then the other booted foot on the mattress, grimacing as if he were hurting, though she didn’t see any reason for that on his body as he settled back, lightly linking his hands together low on his flat abs. Then he let out a long, shuddering sigh.

  She stared at more than six feet of raw power and testosterone in disbelief. “You still haven’t said who you are.”

  “Too Exhausted To Go Away.”

  She did some more staring at him. Staring and glaring, but he didn’t appear to care. “Hello?” she said after a full moment of stunned silence. “You can’t just—”

  “Can. And am.” And with that, he closed his eyes. “Night, Goldilocks.”

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  Jack Savage was the kind of man Anna secretly wanted for her own. The kind of man who lived outside of the law and set his own standards.

  He was everything she wasn’t. Everything her life had always pointed her away from. He lived and breathed in that gray area between right and wrong. It wasn’t necessarily the area between criminals and law-abiding citizens…it was an area she liked to think of as justice.

  She knew justice didn’t always come with a badge or in a courtroom. And she saw in Jack’s eyes that he knew this, too.

  His life had shaped him into the kind of man who’d be more than happy to get justice for himself and his client however it had to be achieved. And if that meant working outside of the normal boundaries of the law, so be it.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked. His voice was deep and rough, just another thing about him that showed her he wasn’t civilized.

  “I don’t know,” she said, and then stood up and walked away before she did something really stupid like kiss him. Because giving in to a bad boy like Jack Savage was something she’d never really been tempted to do before.

  But Jack Savage was temptation incarnate for her. He made her wish she was a different kind of woman so she could spend all her time with him.

  Anna knew she needed to keep her mind on the mission. On making sure Demetri Andreev was captured and put out of business for good. But she couldn’t help watching Jack, and he wouldn’t leave her thoughts alone.

  No matter how many times she tried to convince herself she didn’t care what he did, she kept finding her attention drawn back to him.

  She wanted him. Oh, my God, she thought. She was in lust for the first time in her life, and a part of her was very much afraid she was going to act on the impulse.

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  “I always found you to be an attractive woman, Tate.”

  Alarm filled her. But it didn’t come close to matching the rush of…what? Anticipation? Surely she didn’t want him to acknowledge, much less act on, the other kind of tension that was swirling around them.

  “But, even in the most extreme situations, I never once considered doing what I can’t seem to stop thinking about doing now.”

  She was the one hallucinating now, that was it. He was still in the bathroom and she’d come into the kitchen to get soup, and had somehow fallen down a rabbit hole or something, because surely he was not standing right in front of her saying what she thought he was saying. It was wild enough that she was having any thoughts in his general direction, but at least she had the excuse of being retired and no longer the sharp professional.

  He was still team leader, actively on the job. And the only person who’d been even more the consummate professional during their years working together than she’d been. All work, no wink. That was Derek Cole. Not ever. With her, or anyone else. At least not that anyone had ever known. CJ had made it her favorite topic of conversation on more than one occasion. So, if he ever had…flung, he’d been remarkably discreet about it, which was saying something around people whose job it was to know every damn thing. It was another aspect of his character that she’d admired. So, what the hell was this?

  When she finally found her voice, it was damnably shaky. “You’re injured, and recently injected with God knows what, so—”

  “It’s not the drugs talking, Tate.”

  “Well, it doesn’t sound like you talking, either. At least not the you I worked for. We’ve got enough to deal with, without—”

  “Oh, I know. Believe me. I came down the hall just now to see if I could sit in here and eat some soup. No ulterior motives. No skulking intended. Then I heard you commenting on my—”

  “Must you repeat it?”

  His lips quirked a little then. “See?”

  “See what?”

  “How is it I missed this?” he asked, sounding sincerely perplexed.

  “Missed what?”

  “You.”

  He was looking at her like he’d just discovered something amazing, and couldn’t quite believe it.

  “I’m the same me I’ve—”

  “No. You’re not. I always admired your capable, no-nonsense work ethic. You and CJ were the best agents I ever had. Which, considering the talent I had assembled, is a high, but deserved, compliment. I’ve said before that I found you attractive. I did. And do. But I’ve always viewed that through the filter of being your team leader, looking at that as simply another attribute you possessed, to be executed professionally where and when best deployed.”

  “Just because I don’t work for you now—”

  “It’s not just that. You’re…more you now. Still everything you were, but there’s so much more. I’m seeing the rest of you, probably the you you’ve always been, but who I never had the pleasure of meeting. You’re dry, sharp, outspoken, and surprisingly sarcastic.”

  “You’re right, the professional filter is off, but maybe I’m not who I was before, either. I’m leading a very different life now. I’ll pull it back together, focus, find my professional balance once again, but only because I have to. And, believe me, no one is more motivated to get through this and make it go away as quickly as possible. To make you go away,” she added truthfully. “To get back to the life I earned, the life I deserve. The life I need, Derek.” If there was a quiet pleading in her tone, she wasn’t going to apologize for it. Things were complicated enough without this sudden revelation from him. Especially considering she’d been thinking very similar things about him.

  Which, if he hadn’t known before, he did now, given her comment about his lack of clothing. Now he knew she was noticing him, too.

  Which meant one of them had to get their act together, and get it together real quick. He moved closer and leaned his weight against the counter, along with the walking stick, so he could lift his free hand.

  “Derek—” She broke off when he lightly brushed his fingertips across her cheek. His touch was gentler than she’d expected. She shou
ld be smacking his hand away, not wanting to lean in to the unanticipated warmth she found there. She didn’t need nurturing, or caretaking, but that’s not what the look in his eyes was telegraphing, What she saw there was bold, unwavering, unapologetic want.

  And what he wanted was her.

  BRAVA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2009 by Diane Whiteside

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Brava and the B logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 0-7582-3971-8

 

 

 


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