Page 63 of Deadly Secrets
“Oh. I like that too. Those chocolates are delicious, and by the way, I noticed you have a copy of my book on your end table. Nice prop.”
“It’s not a prop. I read it cover to cover. Brilliant idea to make Lucy seem like a teenage girl and interview her via Twitter questions and answers. Who knew a three billion year old fossil would have so much in common with modern day women?”
“That was the idea, to bring her to life for the current generation, make her real.”
“I was hoping for an autograph.”
“Sure.”
A peek over his shoulder showed she was staring at the romance book, which now lay next to the empty wine glass.
Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he walked to the fridge, pulled out the Sav Blanc, and refilled her glass. “How’s the book?”
Her eyes rose to the glass, then to him. “The cerebral sex is amazing.”
“Cerebral sex?” He chuckled and left the bottle sitting on the bar. “And here I thought you were reading it to pick up tips on shooting a gun.”
“That too.” She gave him a half-hearted smile. “But honestly, it’s all about the sex with an incredible hero who makes the heroine feel wanted and safe.”
Exactly what he’d been attempting to do with her. And at that moment, with her sitting there looking wiped out and oh-so-vulnerable, he wanted to grab her and kiss away the worry lines around her mouth.
His cock twitched, the memories of their make-out sessions giving rise to more fantasies. Her soft skin, her gentle laughter, the wantonness he hadn’t expected when she’d climbed into his lap in the Jeep and again attacked him in the elevator.
“What I really need,” Brooke said, dropping her focus to the wine again as one slender finger toyed with the corner of the book, “are tips on seduction. That’s why I grabbed this story. I don’t know how to flirt.”
Those beautiful eyes that reminded him of the ocean came up to meet his, and for a moment, he understood what she meant bysmoldering. “From where I’m standing at the moment, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of it.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“My last date never progressed past a kiss goodnight at my front door. I’m not a femme fatale. My serious romantic relationships all evolved over time with work colleagues. There was never this kind of…heat. Or awkwardness. I don’t know how to seduce a man.”
“You’ve had me hard as a brick since the moment you walked into the room.”
One pert eyebrow lifted. “Is that so?”
“Hell yes.”
“So you mean, the awkward attempts I made today to seduce you worked?”
“You mean attacking me in the parking lot and the elevator? Nothing awkward about them for me. I loved it.”
“Women throw themselves at you all the time.”
“They do?”
“Don’t they?”
He chuckled and grabbed his beer. “In my line of work, I don’t have time to date, and I can’t talk about my job. Makes for real short dinner conversation. It’s nice to have someone I can talk to about a case and who doesn’t want to have sex with me just because I wear a gun and have handcuffs in my back pocket.”
“You’re not into bondage?”
“With the right woman, sure. Like most things, it comes down to trust.”
He saw her visibly swallow. “How do you know who the right woman is?”
I’m looking at her.“She has to want me for more than my badge, money, or looks.”
