Read Online Dangerous to Touch by Jill Sorenson - Free Book Online Page A

the early morning clouds, promising another hot, hazy day. Wiping sweat from her forehead, she moved to put Blue in the bed of the truck.
    “I want him up front with us.”
    “Why?”
    “How else are you going to know if he reacts to something? You’ve got to pick up on his…vibe, right?”
    It would be a tight squeeze with the three of them in the cab. Blue would have to sit next to the window, leaving her sandwiched beside Marc. She squinted at him over the hood of the truck. “Are you just trying to get close to me?”
    She couldn’t see his eyes behind the lenses of his sunglasses, but she could feel his tension. “Why would I do that?” he asked in an even voice.
    “To crowd me in. Intimidate me. You know.”
    “Oh. Right.” He nodded, acknowledging that he’d done that before. “I make it a rule not to crowd a woman with an aggressive dog at her disposal,” he said with a sardonic smile. His teeth were strong and white against his dark skin.
    Her stomach jumped at the sight.
    Smiling back at him, a little uncertainly, she scooted across the bench seat and coaxed Blue in after her. When Marc got behind the wheel, she held herself stiff, careful to keep her body from touching his. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied his hands, manipulating the gearshift, noting the thickness of his wrists and the veins running down the length of his forearms. Remembering how she’d imagined those hands on her last night, she felt her entire body flush.
    With a hundred pounds of panting, drooling, fur-covered mutt beside her, Sidney wondered how she could be so intensely aware of Marc’s presence. Blue had been bathed and brushed yesterday, but he still smelled like a dog.
    Marc, on the other hand, smelled like a man. A clean, warm-skinned man. The faint scent of Old Spice clung to him. Deodorant, she realized, suppressing the urge to bury her face in his armpit and inhale.
    They drove around the inland hills of Oceanside, through the neighborhoods near the San Luis Rey River for the better part of an hour, during which they hardly spoke. Blue sniffed and hung his head out the window, but didn’t seem to sense anything.
    “Does he know what we’re doing?”
    “I doubt it,” she admitted.
    “Can’t you read his mind?”
    She didn’t turn to look at him, because he was too close for comfort. “No. I don’t read minds, I just sort of get flashes. Feelings. Images.”
    “What’s the difference?”
    She shrugged. “You were implying that I know what everyone around me is thinking every moment.”
    “Even if you touch someone, you don’t always know?”
    “No. I usually don’t.”
    That seemed to relax him a little, although she was sure he didn’t believe anything she said. “I guess I could have brought something of the owner’s for him to smell. Most dogs that haven’t been trained for search and rescue don’t know what to do with it, though.”
    Abandoning the effort, he executed a three-point turnaround. As he shifted into Reverse, the side of his palm grazed the length of her bare thigh. The accidental touch sent another shiver of awareness down her spine. She felt his shoulders stiffen, and knew he wasn’t as unaffected by her proximity as he pretended to be. When he stopped at one of the many small parking lots along the San Luis Rey, she practically leaped out of the truck, relieved to be free of the sensual trap circumstance had created.
    There was a wide sidewalk pathway running east alongside the river from the beach all the way to Camp Pendleton. It was used by nature enthusiasts at their own peril, for the area was known as a homeless hideout. Thick copses of eucalyptus tress and wild brush gave would-be robbers plenty of ambush spots.
    “Do lots of people get mugged here?” she asked.
    “Not really. Walkers and bicyclists don’t typically carry a lot of cash on them. Besides, most homeless are opportunistic criminals, not violent ones.”
    She eyed the bushes with