file?”
“If he’s worth anything, he’s already checked the files.”
“You’ve got to tell him everything you know, Max.”
“You’re crazy, Cameron. I’ll be his prime suspect. He already asked why I’m so interested in Wendy and how I got the job. He even wants my fingerprints.”
“He’s not going to arrest you. He’s hot for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “He is not hot for me.”
“And you’re hot for him.”
“I am not.” Yet her cheeks heated. Thank God she was sitting on them so no one could see.
“I can smell your creamed panties, Max, all the way up here in heaven.”
“You aren’t in heaven.”
“Maybe he’s the one, Max,” he whispered like a mesmerist. “Maybe he’s worthy of you.”
Oh God, Cameron was searching for his replacement. Not the detective, please. Whatever slight attraction she’d felt to his big hands had been an aberration. “He’s a cop. He’s investigating Wendy’s murder. That’s all he is.”
“You liked him.”
Dammit. She should have told Cameron he couldn’t hang in the office while Detective Long interviewed her. “I don’t even know him. And I’m not going to know him. He’s dangerous.”
“But he makes you hot.”
She gave up trying to hide it. Cameron wasn’t buying denial. “Sex isn’t everything.”
“Didn’t you beg for it last night?”
Yes, in the dark of the night, she’d needed, she’d wanted. “Will you please be quiet?” She wanted to jam her hands over her ears, but that wouldn’t keep him out of her head.
“ He’s not your enemy. Whoever killed Wendy is.”
“Why are you picking a fight with me?”
“Why are you protecting the woman’s lover?”
“So that’s what this is all about. You think I’m hot for Wendy’s lover. I told you, it’s all her, not me.”
She pulled into the drive, shut the engine off, slammed the car door, and stomped across the wood deck. Narrowly missing the gap between the rungs with her spiked heels, she lunged up the stairs to her studio apartment. She’d left the window open. The cat had already started its pathetic cry on the window sill.
Cameron might be pissed at Wendy’s effect on her libido, but she was pissed that he was trying to shove another man into her life. Beneath the anger lay fear. Cameron wanted to leave her.
“I don’t have any tuna,” she shouted at the little buzzard.
“We’ve got some milk,” Cameron whispered close to her ear, his breath warm, almost comforting. She clung to her anger like a safety net.
“I told you I won’t feed that cat again.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you, Maxi—”
She whirled on the shimmering nothingness in her small room. “Next time you call me that, I’ll look for an exorcist.”
“Come on, sweetheart, I said I was sorry.” She felt his warmth wrap around her, as if he had arms to hold her, lips to kiss her, and a body to love her with. “Mmm. You smell sweet, baby. Like gardenias. I love you in gardenias.”
“Cut the crap. It won’t work. Besides, you just told me I smelled like something else entirely, and I don’t think you meant it as a compliment.”
“Your sweet scent of arousal makes me hot.”
“Stop it.” Max steeled herself against him, against the heat creeping through her loins. She crossed her arms over her chest, tapped her foot on the hardwood floor, and glared at him. Or at least at the corner of the room she thought he’d backed into. “You wanted me to use my intuition. So, I’m using it. Nicholas Drake didn’t kill her.”
“Screw intuition. You wear your attraction like a badge.”
“Remember Wendy? She feels it inside here.” She fisted her hand against her chest. “He had nothing to do with the murder. And she was the fricking murder victim. Maybe you should listen to her.”
“Why so willing to use your psychic gift now, sweetheart? You’ve fought me every step of the way so far.”
“Why is it so important that I accept this
“If he’s worth anything, he’s already checked the files.”
“You’ve got to tell him everything you know, Max.”
“You’re crazy, Cameron. I’ll be his prime suspect. He already asked why I’m so interested in Wendy and how I got the job. He even wants my fingerprints.”
“He’s not going to arrest you. He’s hot for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “He is not hot for me.”
“And you’re hot for him.”
“I am not.” Yet her cheeks heated. Thank God she was sitting on them so no one could see.
“I can smell your creamed panties, Max, all the way up here in heaven.”
“You aren’t in heaven.”
“Maybe he’s the one, Max,” he whispered like a mesmerist. “Maybe he’s worthy of you.”
Oh God, Cameron was searching for his replacement. Not the detective, please. Whatever slight attraction she’d felt to his big hands had been an aberration. “He’s a cop. He’s investigating Wendy’s murder. That’s all he is.”
“You liked him.”
Dammit. She should have told Cameron he couldn’t hang in the office while Detective Long interviewed her. “I don’t even know him. And I’m not going to know him. He’s dangerous.”
“But he makes you hot.”
She gave up trying to hide it. Cameron wasn’t buying denial. “Sex isn’t everything.”
“Didn’t you beg for it last night?”
Yes, in the dark of the night, she’d needed, she’d wanted. “Will you please be quiet?” She wanted to jam her hands over her ears, but that wouldn’t keep him out of her head.
“ He’s not your enemy. Whoever killed Wendy is.”
“Why are you picking a fight with me?”
“Why are you protecting the woman’s lover?”
“So that’s what this is all about. You think I’m hot for Wendy’s lover. I told you, it’s all her, not me.”
She pulled into the drive, shut the engine off, slammed the car door, and stomped across the wood deck. Narrowly missing the gap between the rungs with her spiked heels, she lunged up the stairs to her studio apartment. She’d left the window open. The cat had already started its pathetic cry on the window sill.
Cameron might be pissed at Wendy’s effect on her libido, but she was pissed that he was trying to shove another man into her life. Beneath the anger lay fear. Cameron wanted to leave her.
“I don’t have any tuna,” she shouted at the little buzzard.
“We’ve got some milk,” Cameron whispered close to her ear, his breath warm, almost comforting. She clung to her anger like a safety net.
“I told you I won’t feed that cat again.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you, Maxi—”
She whirled on the shimmering nothingness in her small room. “Next time you call me that, I’ll look for an exorcist.”
“Come on, sweetheart, I said I was sorry.” She felt his warmth wrap around her, as if he had arms to hold her, lips to kiss her, and a body to love her with. “Mmm. You smell sweet, baby. Like gardenias. I love you in gardenias.”
“Cut the crap. It won’t work. Besides, you just told me I smelled like something else entirely, and I don’t think you meant it as a compliment.”
“Your sweet scent of arousal makes me hot.”
“Stop it.” Max steeled herself against him, against the heat creeping through her loins. She crossed her arms over her chest, tapped her foot on the hardwood floor, and glared at him. Or at least at the corner of the room she thought he’d backed into. “You wanted me to use my intuition. So, I’m using it. Nicholas Drake didn’t kill her.”
“Screw intuition. You wear your attraction like a badge.”
“Remember Wendy? She feels it inside here.” She fisted her hand against her chest. “He had nothing to do with the murder. And she was the fricking murder victim. Maybe you should listen to her.”
“Why so willing to use your psychic gift now, sweetheart? You’ve fought me every step of the way so far.”
“Why is it so important that I accept this
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