Page 19 of Flirting With Disaster

“This is a big program and will take a while to load,” he said.

“Who sent the ghostwriter program?”

“Some people who require complete anonymity.” Logan pulled her barstool closer. “Besides, a good cop never reveals his sources.”

“Detectives and their secrets.” She stroked his stubble, sending shock waves through him. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Is that what you’re reading?” Logan chuckled at her blank stare. He’d dropped his condom next to the book earlier. “The book on your nightstand? Flirting With the Devil?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I brought two of Kym Roberts’ books with me. She’s my favorite author.”

“Does that one have sex in it?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Call me when you get to the sexy parts. You can read them to me.”

“Stop it.” She frowned up at him, but her eyes sparkled with humor. “It’s about a man who’s strong enough to know who he loves and is willing to fight for her.”

“Smart man.” Logan’s stomach growled. “I’m starving.”

“We just ate.”

“You wore me out. I have to keep up my strength.” He waited until her eyes flared and her mouth fell open. Then he kissed her and forgot he was hungry.

Digging his fingers deep into her hair, he cradled her head, holding her lips tight against his. This was no timid, bashful woman in his arms. She held her own as she thrust and parried with his tongue. When he released her, both of them were gasping for breath. Logan kissed every inch of her beautiful face and neck. He took his index finger and tipped her chin up higher. He lost himself in her gaze. Dark and smoldering, her eyes drew him back to her. Their lips met and Logan drank deep.

The computer beeped. He reluctantly pulled his mind back to the flash drive. “The program’s finished loading. We’d better get busy.”

Elle turned her face away from him. “Everything comes to an end.”

“Not everything. This thing happening between us, whatever it is… I’m not just killing time.”

“Thank you for being honest.” She turned and looked him straight in the eyes. “Something is happening, and I’d like to find out what it is.”

A heavy weight lifted from Logan’s shoulders. “Good.”

“Now, can we get some work done?” This time her sparkling eyes laughed for her.

Logan opened the folder where Elle had saved Ethridge’s files and scrolled down the list. With a few keystrokes, he directed the ghostwriter program to the smallest file. “This might take a while.”

“You seem to know a lot about this kind of technology.”

“Oh, hell no,” he admitted, hating to have her think he wasn’t up on the latest. “I know people who are technology wizards. First, I ask if my particular task can be done. Most of the time the answer is yes. Then I wait for it to happen.”

“Legitimate hackers—sounds like an oxymoron.”

Elle’s sense of humor had always been attractive to him. Brains combined with beauty made her hot as hell, which was why her brother had hovered over her like an armed drone back when they were kids.

“They’re called white hats. Law enforcement keeps highly skilled technicians on the payroll. If we didn’t, the whole country would be screwed.”

Elle pushed her hair off her face and stared at the screen. “This has to work.”

“Just remember that what we find can’t be used in a court of law.”

“But the more we know about Ethridge Investments, the easier it will be to use his own scam against him.”

“I hope you’re right,” Logan said. “This step can take a long time. Let’s order something off the room service menu.”

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