Page 133 of Season of Seduction

Today, however, she looked as though she’d dropped twenty pounds and, while she was still gorgeous, she also looked exhausted. And, to him, far too thin.

He held her door for her and closed it behind her, then got into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” he ordered, starting the car.

As they pulled out onto the street, his radio was silent. Christmas Day was either a fucking zoo or a ghost town. He was selfishly hoping for the latter so he could spend more time talking with Becca. He only got to see her a few hours twice a year.

The minute the thought crossed his mind, he swore silently. Shit, after the torture he went through the last time, sitting in his car, surrounded by the scent that was uniquely Becca, he should never have told Mallory he wanted her as his ride-along tonight. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was some serious, heavy-duty attraction between them, but she’d tried to hide it and so had he. If she’d been single, he’d have made his move. But she was married and though he’d hated the prick on sight, he didn’t poach. And that shift on Easter had nearly killed him just with the nearness of her. Every time they did this, it cost him. Big.

He spent an inordinate amount of time imagining Becca Rickman naked, bound and on her knees. And he measured every other woman he met up to her. He wanted her, but he couldn’t ever have her. Fuck him, he couldn’t even keep from touching her today, and his lack of self-control was appalling. Why the hell had he set himself up for this again? He wasn’t a masochist.

No, you’re a Dom in cop’s clothing, and she trips every goddamn one of your triggers. Now shut up and focus.

He reached out to wake his computer screen, then frowned and slid a glance her way. Was it his imagination, or did she just flinch?

She shifted in her seat and turned to him, derailing his thought. “So what’s going on in Jeremy’s world? Did you take that vacation you were talking about? You were going to the Outer Banks this past summer, right?”

Good memory. “Yeah. It was great. I didn’t want to come back to work. I mean, I love my job, you know that. But a week fishing, sitting on the beach, hiking? Can’t beat it. Did you go anywhere for vacation?”

He watched her square her shoulders. “No, not this year,” she said, and then she fell silent.

Jesus, she’d never had trouble talking with him before. His dominant personality reared its safe, sane and consensual-minded head, telling him to give her a chance to safe word out of this assignment. Something was up, or else his people-reading skills needed some serious fucking help. “Bec, did I steamroll you into riding with me today? Because I can take you back to the station if this isn’t what you want to do.”

To his wholly inappropriate satisfaction her face turned pink—the same heated shade it turned when he’d caught her staring at his ass—and she dropped her gaze. “No. I want to be here.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, fighting back the surge of pleasure that reaction roused. He could be patient, mostly. They had eight hours to share. He’d pry whatever was on her mind out of her, even if it took his entire shift.

“Really, I’m—”

His radio crackled to life and Becca snapped her mouth shut. With a sidelong glance at her, he answered the call for a 911 disconnect and tur

ned on lights and sirens. She stayed silent on the ride over, and he was grateful. It gave him the chance to get his head in the game.

When they reached the address, he stepped out of the car, ducking his head back in. “Wait here. You remember how to use the radio if I need help?”

She looked worried but nodded. “Press the red button and say, Alpha 269 needs immediate assistance, then give them our location.”

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Be right back.”

He straightened and stepped away from the car. Good girl? Had he really said that out loud? Jesus, he needed to watch what came out of his mouth around Bec, or he’d give himself away. And he needed to focus. He took a moment to suck in a breath and push everything but his training out of his brain. An inattentive cop could be a dead cop, and yeah, that wasn’t in his plans for today. It didn’t take long, though, to figure out that the call was a mistake. He wished the family a merry Christmas, accepted a plate of cookies from the embarrassed woman who’d answered the door, and headed back to his cruiser.

“Everything okay in there?”

He nodded, then keyed his radio. “Alpha 269 clear.”

“What happened?”

“Big family gathering and one of the kids picked up his grandma’s phone and pushed the red 911 button. Happens a lot.”

“Ah. That’s better than the alternative.” She relaxed against the seat with a sigh. “Much better.”

“Yeah.” He took a minute to log the call into his mobile laptop and then he pulled back out onto the road. “Coffee?”

She jumped. “Excuse me?”

He stifled a sigh. In all the ways he’d hoped today would go, expected today to go, Becca being distant and distracted wasn’t it. “I’m going to stop for coffee. Do you want any?”

“Oh. No thank you. We had a big breakfast.”

Jealousy poked him hard in the gut. He didn’t want to think about Becca with her husband, still fresh from sleep...or whatever. Married, he reminded himself. Off limits. “No problem. Maybe I’ll wait too. I need to do a patrol check, anyway.”

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