Page 44 of End Game

He frowned. This one seemed different. On anyone else, he would’ve labeled her fleeting emotion as gratitude. With Kayla though, he suspected she’d already catalogued how to use this moment against him.

After taking a sip of the strong brew, he set the cup down on the oval coffee table and settled his forearms on his knees. All of a sudden, he found the casual atmosphere disarming. She acted as though she was having a cuppa with a dear friend and they were embarking on a bout of scandalous gossip.

Rather than stir up family drama, he’d decided to leave Zeke and Aunt Joan out of their conversation. He hoped keeping this Bureau-driven would resolve it faster, satisfy his supervisor, and preserve—or at least not worsen—his familial relationships.

But Kayla always had a way of pissing on his best-laid plans.

Until this moment, he’d known exactly how he would begin questioning her. Knew the tone and timbre he would use to tease out the truth. All of his planning seemed wrong now, though his inner monologue berated him, told him to stick to the script.

“Ash?”

Staring at her, he battled with an intense urge to cuddle up with her on the sofa. To take her fuzzy feet into his hands and massage them. To lay his head in her lap just so he could feel her long fingers trail through his hair.

Suddenly, he understood why she was so successful at persuading those in power to support her clients’ initiatives. Find their weaknesses, their passions. Tempt them beyond reason.

A soft, pliable, fuzzy-socked Kayla Krowne was his weakness, his secret passion. His undeniable temptation.

And they were alone.

She’s off-limits, Blackwell.

Would her hair be as soft and silky as it looked? Would her breasts be heavy in his hands? Would her aureole be petunia pink, dusky rose, or some other mouth-watering hue?

He shot out of his seat. Distance. He needed distance. A helluva lot of it.

“Ash?” A note of concern entered her voice.

The sound of his given name from her lips sent a bolt of heat straight down his spine. He prowled the room until he could no longer smell the scent of the soap she’d used during her quick shower. Could no longer calculate the width of her sofa to determine if it would accommodate six-plus feet of aroused male.

Pausing before her floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, he skimmed the titles, while he gathered the melting parts of his brain and molded them into a semblance of an intelligent, fact-finding, objective mind.

“Your silence is starting to unnerve me,” Kayla said. “Not at all like you.”

The volatile emotion constricting his throat eased. He turned away from what appeared to be a very rare book collection and gave her a pained smile.

“I find myself in a unique situation, where two sides of my nature are at war with how to proceed.”

“Based on your reason for being here, I can guess the one side.”

“My role as a federal agent, yes.”

“And the other?”

A volcanic mix of desperate words and long-suppressed actions battered at him from the inside, demanding release. Pressure pulsed in his temple, his chest, his damn eyelids.

He turned toward the rare books again, squeezed his eyes shut. Gathered himself. Once his control was mostly restored, he leveled her with a steady, no-nonsense stare.

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush about this. It’s come to my attention that you might have a personal interest in an agenda item going before the Engel County School Board next week.”

She returned his stare with a speculative one of her own. “I have a personal interest in every initiative Krowne and Associates takes on.”

“But Engel County School Board isn’t one of your principals. I checked.”

Surprise skittered across her features, and she tried to cover it by taking a sip of tea.

“You have no children in the school district. Why the personal interest in passing a Parents’ Bill of Rights, in compliance with state law?”

“Children must be allowed to explore new worlds, to express themselves without the banner of danger hovering over them.”

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