Page 8 of Deadly Attraction
Chapter Three
Dr. Collins returned in a flourish of smiles and a fresh-from-the-shower citrus scent. The two dogs didn’t smell nearly as good.
She’d left her hair down, soft curls falling over her shoulders as she hustled down the stairs. With the dirt and straw gone, Mitch now noticed streaks of blond in the curls. Her jeans were well-worn and sported a fashionable rip on one thigh, but he had the sense that it wasn’t fashion so much as life on a ranch that had caused it.
Nothing special about her shirt—just a picture of a horse and a rider on a plain yellow tee. Except the cotton was tight across her chest, emphasizing full breasts he hadn’t even noticed when they’d been under the robe. The yellow brought out her pretty eyes.
Pretty eyes? Jesus, he was fixated on those damn things.
“How’s the coffee?” she asked, blowing past his watchful stance at the front door on her way to the kitchen.
His gaze fell to her ass like a magnet drawn to steel. He absentmindedly petted the Labs as they greeted him once more.
Tearing his gaze away, he hardened his will. “Weak,” he said, the good manners his mother had taught him once again absent. For some reason, he liked jabbing her. Liked the fact he couldn’t seem to rile her up.
“Hmm,” was all she said.
Obviously, he needed to try harder.
The first floor was secure; he’d seen no signs of unwanted visitors lurking around outside. Phones and sat towers were still having issues, but an e-mail from Dupé had gotten through. He’d been delayed for another hour.
The sounds of banging cabinet doors and soft humming drew him to the kitchen.
A cup sat on the counter, the tea kettle on the stove heating. Collins was digging in the cookie jar. She pulled out two chocolate concoctions with white chips in them and grabbed a napkin from a stack on the small table nearby. Her lips, now the color of fresh strawberries, closed over the edge of a cookie as she took a bite. She pointed to the empty coffee cup in his hand. “Would you rather have tea? There’s still coffee, too, of course, and I couldn’t help but notice that although you thought it weak, you drank it. Perhaps you’d like more?”
“No thanks.”
While she’d been upstairs, he’d kept thinking about her motorcycle comment.Too bad,she’d said.Was she feeling like him, wishing she could ride the hell out of here and never look back?
Didn’t seem like it. She plopped into a chair and eyed him, chewing her cookie. “Any update on Chris?”
“No.”
“Would you like something else while we wait? A soda? A sandwich?”
What was wrong with her? “There’s a murderer on the loose and all bets say he’s coming after you. Instead of tea and cookies, I suggest you get your stuff and we bug out.”
She swallowed, flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder. “I’m not leaving.”
Oh, crap. “I thought we were past the stranger-danger shit.”
“Stranger danger?”
“You let me into your home. You made me coffee and offered me cookies. If you have a problem going somewhere with a ‘strange man’, you can put that fear to rest now. I’m not a stranger anymore. I’m the good guy trying to save your ass.”
She smiled at him, not a happy smile, but a patient, tolerant one. Her slender fingers worked over a napkin. “This is my home. I have horses, dogs, a man who lives on the property. Clients who depend on me and need their therapy sessions. I can’t simply pack up and leave, Agent Holden.”
A man lived on the property? Interesting. Employee or something more? Was that why she didn’t want to leave? “If you end up dead, what good are you to any of them?”
“You are blunt, aren’t you?” She took another nibble of her cookie. “I won’t let Chris Goodsman kill me. At least not without one hell of a fight.”
Forget her ass that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, those lips were a thing of beauty. She had a couple of cookie crumbs on the bottom one. He suppressed the urge to reach out and wipe them off.
The kettle whistled. Collins left her chair, licking her lips and catching the crumbs on her tongue, nearly making Mitch moan. She poured hot water over a tea bag. “I understand this puts you in a tight spot with Victor. I’ll talk to him and let him know it was my decision and you did a fine job of trying to talk me out of it.”
He didn’t care about Dupé and his assignment at the moment. What person in their right mind would put themselves in harm’s way for no good reason? “It’s only until Goodsman is caught.”
“Which could be hours or it could be months.”
