by Regan Black
“It’s in the top five,” he teased. “Can’t go around indulging in mediocre chocolate.”
She enjoyed the sparkle in his brown eyes, as if he might give way to honest laughter any minute. “Thanks for all you’ve done already,” she said.
“You want to keep working on that list?”
“Not tonight.” She was tired of thinking about the best approach to Anna’s case. Trying to isolate someone within the GRPD without hurting careers and feelings would be a delicate proposition. “I need some time to let things mull in the back of my mind.”
He didn’t seem all that thrilled with her reply. “Let me know how to support you when you make a plan.”
She tilted her head. “You mean that?”
“Of course.”
“You continue to surprise me, Detective.” One more new development in her life to mull over when she was alone. “Let’s celebrate a job well done tonight.”
* * *
Emmanuel followed her back to the counter that seemed to serve as her primary dining area. Pippa looked so damn proud of herself, as she should. She’d just laid a trap that could result in a significant leap forward on the CI investigation into Capital X.
The sassy glint in her eye and the tough set to her delicate jaw were an intriguing and irresistible combination. He didn’t quite understand his infatuation or why she fired his blood this way. Technically, this was only their third interaction, yet he felt as if he’d known her for years. Sure, Griffin talked about his family, but this was a deep, certain awareness he couldn’t shake.
Didn’t want to shake.
She was younger, not an insurmountable difference when he thought about it, and he was aware, through his ties to her family, that she’d been through hard times just like he had. Yes, he’d come from a less privileged background, but the Coltons had been community-oriented parents, and their children understood the value of commitment and service.
Her optimism, especially as it related to her pursuit of overturning the Wentworth conviction, should have annoyed him. Pippa’s blind faith in a convicted killer should have been a turnoff on its own. He was well aware that he wouldn’t be going the extra mile for any other lawyer representing Wentworth. Yet here he stood, reluctant to leave her alone in her secure home, and it had nothing to do with his promise to her brother.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
Nothing he should be thinking. Her lips looked soft and kissable and his fingers twitched, eager to learn the feel of her hair. Though he tried to think of Griffin, he couldn’t slam the door on his meandering thoughts. “I’m thinking I should stay the night,” he said.
She pulled the tie loose from the white box. “That’s ridiculous. I’m perfectly safe here. You have an unmarked car downstairs.”
“Two,” he clarified. It seemed important. “Front and back.”
Coiling the length of string around her fingers, she said, “And no sign of anyone, right?”
“Not so far. That can change.” He’d draped his jacket over the counter stool earlier and reached for it now, drawing the panic button from the pocket. “I brought this, too, but that doesn’t change anything. I still want to stay.”
“What is that?” she queried, eyeing the device.
“A panic button,” he replied. “I’ve set it up so it sends an alert to my cell phone and the teams downstairs.”
“That’s...thoughtful,” she finished.
He chuckled. “You think it’s too much.”
“Thoughtful and too much don’t have to be mutually exclusive. You saw me update the electronic locks last night,” she said. “The building is secure, and everyone is on alert now. What makes you think any Capital X enforcers would even try to get in here? I used an alias.”
He wasn’t as worried about the bogus loan operation right now. As she’d said, she used a pseudonym and masked the true IP address, though he believed the company could still find her. No, he was far more concerned about what the missing evidence box meant and the inexplicable red tape she couldn’t cut through at the prison. Why couldn’t she see she was painting multiple targets on her back? It made protecting her that much more difficult for everyone.
Which was exactly why Griffin had asked him to keep an eye on her. He decided to play the brother card. Family meant everything to the Colton siblings...and to him.
“Griffin insisted I stay close,” he said.
“So you said last night.” Her voice frosted over. “I’ll remind you that he doesn’t get to speak for me.” She drummed her fingertips on the granite countertop in front of the bakery box. “I appreciate you answering the break-in call and helping so much. Thank you, in case I didn’t say that last night.”
He couldn’t recall if she’d said it either, his mind on other things, primarily how to keep her safe from a distance. “If my partner and I hadn’t caught that case clean, I would’ve come by as a courtesy.”
“To Griffin.”
Of course. He hadn’t even met Pippa. Her tone was as crisp as the leaves falling from the maple trees lining her street. No sense massaging the facts. “Yes. As a courtesy to Griffin, I came by to check out the trouble and see if I could help.”
“Or to see if you could worm your way into my world?”
There was a vulnerability in her voice he wasn’t sure how to handle. “No. Not the way you’re implying.”
“Maybe you wanted to keep tabs on my progress during the Wentworth case.”
“That’s not how I operate,” he said with all the calm he could. Maybe twenty-four hours ago he’d had different motives. More self-focused intentions. But not now, not after seeing that threat scrawled across her wall. “If the situation was reversed and I couldn’t be sure my sister would be careful enough, I’d expect Griffin to uphold his promise. Even if my sister didn’t like it.”
“Careful enough?” She swore under her breath, folding her arms. “I don’t like it. I don’t need a babysitter or a watchdog or whatever you want to call yourself.”
“It’s a panic button. A precaution.” Should he have expected her to give him any grace or cooperation? His testimony in court had pretty much nailed the Wentworth case shut. Clearly her friendship trumped the obvious—the only—conclusion the jury could have made. The defense had not provided an effective counterargument to all of the evidence he’d found.
Planted evidence. Her words echoed in his head. If she was right and someone in the GRPD had framed Anna, Pippa needed this panic button and him more than she realized. “You are taking strategic risks, and you deserve the best protection against any unpleasant consequences.”
She wasn’t swayed. “This is who I am. I can handle my consequences.”
“Pippa, I understand. I’m not here to change you, or because your brother doubts your ability. Just call me the safety net. That little bit extra you ignore until you need it.” He didn’t care for the description, but it was accurate.
“I’d rather call Griffin and give him a piece of my mind.”
“You can do that,” he said. “Why not wait until after?”
“After what?”
He tipped up the lid of the bakery box. “After chocolate.”
“Éclairs,” she said, her tone full of all the reverence the pastries deserved.
He admired her unapologetic enthusiasm, and his mind detoured straight into a fantasy of Pippa demonstrating that kind of eagerness for a lover. For him.
Whoa. That was a big leap. He needed to dial it down. She might not be off-limits precisely, but the woman was prickly, and he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate an ill-timed advance. No, Pippa would likely enjoy an all-out seduction with plenty of finesse.
What was wrong with him? He wasn’t here to sort out what she did or didn’t enjoy on an intimate level.
She bounced on her toes a little as she grabbed
two plates from the cabinet.
“Forks?” he asked, sliding a napkin closer to her.
“Are you kidding? These are the best éclairs in the city. They deserve fingers.” She wiggled hers, urging him to hurry.
He was doomed. She had no idea of her effect on him. He could quickly become addicted to this charming, playful side of her. It was a lovely counterpoint to her grit and drive. He enjoyed her serious intensity. It was one of the first things they had in common, a passion for justice and seeing that what was right prevailed.
“No forks,” he agreed, placing an éclair on each plate.
“I’d suggest relaxing on the couch, but the fan is too loud.”
“I’m fine right here.” Her grateful smile hit him square in the chest.
“Would you like coffee?” she offered.
“Milk, if you have it.”
“Done.” She pointed a finger at him. “That kind of thinking gives me hope for you.”
She poured them each a short glass of milk and they sat at the counter, neither of them willing to wait a minute longer to dive into the decadent éclairs.
The flavors of rich chocolate, perfect pastry and thick, sinfully smooth cream melted in his mouth, but the experience was enhanced by Pippa. Pure joy bloomed across her face at the first bite. Closing her eyes, she licked a dot of chocolate from her lip.
Emmanuel was hard in an instant, wondering how her unique flavor would make the éclair even better. He had to get his mind off sex before his reaction to her made it impossible. She would never let him stay if she noticed how stirred up he was.
He paused between bites. “So, Pippa Colton, a.k.a. Alison Carrington, you’ve set a trap for a notorious loan operation. What will you do next?”
“This.” She took another bite of her éclair. “Better than any amusement park vacation,” she said. “I might even have a second one.”
“I’m glad I made the right choice,” he said. He’d thought about calling Griffin for advice, but that had felt like cheating. Making the right call on instinct made this moment even sweeter.
“Did Griffin mention these éclairs are my kryptonite?”
“No,” he said with pride. “All my idea.”
“It was a good one.” Her brow puckered over her pert nose. “How did you and Griffin meet?”
“Through a community event for the foster system years ago,” Emmanuel said. “We hit it off and have been friends ever since.”
She didn’t ask any follow-up questions. Was she uninterested or just processing things while she enjoyed her dessert? When she finished her second éclair, he stacked her plate on top of his and carried both to the sink.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“You weren’t raised by my mother,” he replied, laughing a little.
Pippa leaned back against the counter, and he felt her gaze like a touch as he rinsed the dishes and loaded them into her dishwasher. “I’ve had plenty of time to find the balance,” he said. “Although most days you can still eat off my floor.”
She laughed, and the merry sound along with the happy glow on her face rendered him speechless.
“Tell me something else about your mom,” she said.
“Why?” He needed a few more minutes to gather his wits.
Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, and he catalogued every detail in that brief moment. Her wistful expression made him wonder about her past. He’d heard a few details about the difficulties between their parents from Griffin. The idyllic image the Coltons had projected while in public had not translated into a perfect home life. Apparently once close, the couple had drifted apart due to Graham’s career and Kathleen’s focus on raising their children and her charitable endeavors in the community.
“The way you talk about your family...” Her voice trailed off. “You make it sound as if your parents were happy.”
“They are happy,” he said. Closing the dishwasher, he waited on the other side of the kitchen, curious about the change in mood and topic.
“Sometimes I wonder what happens to people who don’t have good examples to follow.”
“In marriage?” he asked.
She met his gaze and one slender shoulder rose and fell. “In anything.”
He knew she meant personal relationships. “I think, at a certain point, we have to make our own choices about what we want and how we’ll get there.”
“Right,” she agreed. “That’s being an adult. But do you think people without a solid example in one thing or another are doomed to struggle? Maybe it’s a hurdle no one knows how to recognize,” she said.
He was pretty sure psychiatrists knew how to recognize and fix those hurdles. “What about your friend Elizabeth?”
Pippa’s eyebrows lifted. “What about her?”
“From the sound of it she’s a kind person. She shows up in and around Grand Rapids helping out and doing good things. As far as I know, she’s never once called the police to accuse anyone in her employ of any kind of crime.”
“That was her mother’s MO, the example she was raised to follow. Anna Wentworth shows up in the right places for the photo op, does good work in name only and often harasses her best employees without any true cause.”
“You’re of the opinion that we’re more than what we’ve seen in life.”
He closed the distance between them, drawn to her by a force he could no longer deny. Fast or not, he didn’t want to hold himself back from something that had the potential for a life-altering shift. “I’m saying what you already know. Experience shapes us and informs us, but we can choose how to interpret those experiences, how we grow from them.”
Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move or otherwise signal him away, he nudged a lock of her hair behind her ear. Hair soft as silk against his fingers; the shell of her ear warm to his touch. Those small discoveries heated his blood, not at all insignificant.
She held her ground, her eyes locked with his and his pulse kicked with anticipation.
“I’ve seen bad people come out of good families,” he said. “And I’ve seen people do remarkably good things amid dreadful circumstances.”
Emmanuel traced the pale skin on the inside of her wrist, pleased to feel her pulse pounding as hard as his.
“We have choices,” she agreed. “I know that. We can choose to learn and grow.” Her gaze dropped to their joined hands, and her fingertips trembled as she traced the shape of his hand.
Choose me. He couldn’t resist her. Was there a chance she felt the same inexplicable draw to him? When she looked up at him again, he slowly bent his head toward her. He wanted her to have the time and space to say no to a kiss, even as he prayed like hell she wouldn’t.
She met him, her lips brushing lightly across his. The spark that sizzled out from his lips through his whole being was lightning in a bottle, a flash too powerful for the moment. The fleeting, brief contact left him craving more. Everything. All of her. He wanted to be her choice. Would happily beg for the honor.
Her fingers laced with his, but she didn’t seem eager for another kiss. How would he exit gracefully now?
“Emmanuel,” she whispered. Her hands came up to frame his face, her thumbs rasping against the grain of his short beard. Ever so gently she brought his mouth back to hers.
The sweetness of her was like a balm to that first jolt of electricity and power. Her lips were firm and sure. No surprise she knew what she wanted. Him. He nearly crowed in victory.
Gripping her hips, he boosted her to the countertop, standing between her knees. She giggled, and when her lips parted, his tongue stroked across hers. She tasted of the rich chocolate icing and the sweet cream filling of the éclair, and the taste that was hers alone.
It was a sugar rush of a completely new variety.
He tugged her to the edge of the granite surface, letting he
r feel what she did to him. This time there was no giggle, just a moan that nearly sent him over the edge. “Pippa,” he murmured against her lips.
She wrapped her legs around his hips in response, holding him close. Close but not close enough. There were too many barriers keeping him from everything he wanted to learn about her.
Her lips and teeth scraped against his jaw and down his throat and he gripped her hips, fighting for control. “Pippa,” he said again. Her name was the full extent of his vocabulary right now. Everything started and ended right here.
With her.
He speared a hand into her hair, angling for a deeper kiss. Her fingertips curled over his shoulders, then dragged down his chest until she tugged his shirt free of his jeans. Her hands slipped under the clothing, skimming his ribs and waist, around to his back.
“Mmm, you’re so hot.” She smiled against his lips. “I like it.”
He was on fire for her without a doubt. He jerked when she touched a ticklish spot under his rib cage, and a peal of her bright laughter surrounded him.
“You’re ticklish,” she said, clearly delighted.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Her eyes sparkled with pure mischief. “They’ll never hear it from me,” she vowed. “Just here?” Her fingers danced over the spot again.
He growled, sliding his hands under her skirt and gripping her thighs. She was burning up just like he was; he could feel it through the thin fabric of her pants. Feel the strength in her legs. “Pippa,” he warned. His thumbs dipped low, following the curve of her inner thighs, teasing them both by staying well away from the most sensitive areas of her body.
Everything about her made him more aware, more sensitive to her. Every inch of her fascinated him. The entire fleet of police cars might come screeching to a halt outside her door, sirens blazing, and he wouldn’t notice.
She wriggled under his touch, her hands working at the buttons of his shirt. “Off,” she commanded, pushing at the panels. “Let me see you.”
He grinned, skimming kisses along the shell of her ear. If she wanted to make demands, it would be his pleasure to fulfill her every wish. Standing tall, her knees still snug around his hips, he cast his button-down shirt to the floor and the undershirt followed.
