Read Online Guarding Kelsey ((Books We Love Romantic Suspense)) by Kat Attalla - Free Book Online
Authors: Kat Attalla
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no idea what to say. "At least you've got your health."
Kelsey burst out laughing. "Next you'll be telling me that every cloud has a silver lining. There must be a book of trite quotations that they give out to men in high school. Whenever a man doesn't know what to say in a tough situation, he falls back on ridiculous clichés ."
Wolf found her assessment of the male species amusing. "Do you hear a lot of clichés from men, Kelsey?"
"I've heard my share over the years.” She arched her back and tipped her head. Even in an oversized college t-shirt, she managed to make the simple act of relieving tension, a sensual vision. When she straightened, she caught him staring. “What about you, Wolf. Is your name the legend you have to live up to?"
"No. I imagine most people think I live up to my name quite well," he mused.
"Most of your ex-girlfriends at least," she guessed.
“It’s short for Wolfgang. My mother was a Mozart fan.” Although most of his childhood he’d wished she had been a Beatles fan instead.
“You lucked out.”
“How so?” he asked.
“She could have named you Amadeus,” Kelsey pointed out wryly. “So what’s your story?”
"There's nothing to tell. My father was a cop too. Decorated five times in his career. He was responsible for solving one of the most notorious murder cases of the seventies."
"I imagine he's proud that you followed in his footsteps."
Wolf shrugged. If his father had been proud, he had never told his son. “He passed away a few years ago.”
“And your mother?”
“Alive and well.” And devoting her life to someone else’s family. She had given up trying with Wolf years ago when she realized he couldn’t be bribed into deserting his father. And he had stopped letting it hurt him, when he realized she was never coming back.
“And . .” Kelsey prodded.
“And what?”
“And why is she such a sore spot with you?”
“Who said she was?” he asked. Damn! Was he that transparent?
“It’s not what you said. It’s what you didn’t say.”
"Do you study sociology or psychology?"
"They're related fields. I bet I could tell you a lot about yourself."
Wolf tipped his head and dared her to continue. “Give it your best shot.”
She paused for a second to look him over. Her eyes sparked with renewed light and humor. "You're an only child, you keep people at a distance and, unlike most cops you don’t fully trust your partner. How am I doing?”
“That’s general enough to apply to a lot of people.” Except it applied to him specifically and she seemed to know it.
“Oh, and you don't like to be touched, and I'm not speaking about sexually."
He choked back a cough. “Where did that brilliant theory come from?”
“You nearly went into apoplexy when I threw my arms around you earlier.”
“I didn't go into apoplexy. I was retaining a professional distance." So she wouldn’t notice the unprofessional way his body responded to her touch.
With a soft, husky laugh, she brushed off his denial. "I was high strung. I wasn't dead."
Neither was he! But he’d rather let her believe him to be cold and impersonal than admit she made him fiery hot in more ways than one.
"Thank you Sigmund Freud. Maybe I should just throw myself into analysis, I'm so screwed up."
"You're not screwed up. More the opposite. You're in the highest stress profession in the country and you remain detached."
Wolf bit back a retort. If she had any idea how attached he felt, she'd get a good laugh. He couldn't think of anything he would like more at that moment than to have her touch him.
Kelsey misread his silence. "I think I've insulted you. Can I make it up to you by cooking dinner?"
"I can be bought."
"Tsk, tsk. Prostituting yourself for a steak dinner. And you, a police officer. What is the world coming to?"
"You should see how far I'd go for a raspberry torte."
She stood up and headed towards the kitchen, shaking her head. "Watch out, Krieger. Someday I just might make
Kelsey burst out laughing. "Next you'll be telling me that every cloud has a silver lining. There must be a book of trite quotations that they give out to men in high school. Whenever a man doesn't know what to say in a tough situation, he falls back on ridiculous clichés ."
Wolf found her assessment of the male species amusing. "Do you hear a lot of clichés from men, Kelsey?"
"I've heard my share over the years.” She arched her back and tipped her head. Even in an oversized college t-shirt, she managed to make the simple act of relieving tension, a sensual vision. When she straightened, she caught him staring. “What about you, Wolf. Is your name the legend you have to live up to?"
"No. I imagine most people think I live up to my name quite well," he mused.
"Most of your ex-girlfriends at least," she guessed.
“It’s short for Wolfgang. My mother was a Mozart fan.” Although most of his childhood he’d wished she had been a Beatles fan instead.
“You lucked out.”
“How so?” he asked.
“She could have named you Amadeus,” Kelsey pointed out wryly. “So what’s your story?”
"There's nothing to tell. My father was a cop too. Decorated five times in his career. He was responsible for solving one of the most notorious murder cases of the seventies."
"I imagine he's proud that you followed in his footsteps."
Wolf shrugged. If his father had been proud, he had never told his son. “He passed away a few years ago.”
“And your mother?”
“Alive and well.” And devoting her life to someone else’s family. She had given up trying with Wolf years ago when she realized he couldn’t be bribed into deserting his father. And he had stopped letting it hurt him, when he realized she was never coming back.
“And . .” Kelsey prodded.
“And what?”
“And why is she such a sore spot with you?”
“Who said she was?” he asked. Damn! Was he that transparent?
“It’s not what you said. It’s what you didn’t say.”
"Do you study sociology or psychology?"
"They're related fields. I bet I could tell you a lot about yourself."
Wolf tipped his head and dared her to continue. “Give it your best shot.”
She paused for a second to look him over. Her eyes sparked with renewed light and humor. "You're an only child, you keep people at a distance and, unlike most cops you don’t fully trust your partner. How am I doing?”
“That’s general enough to apply to a lot of people.” Except it applied to him specifically and she seemed to know it.
“Oh, and you don't like to be touched, and I'm not speaking about sexually."
He choked back a cough. “Where did that brilliant theory come from?”
“You nearly went into apoplexy when I threw my arms around you earlier.”
“I didn't go into apoplexy. I was retaining a professional distance." So she wouldn’t notice the unprofessional way his body responded to her touch.
With a soft, husky laugh, she brushed off his denial. "I was high strung. I wasn't dead."
Neither was he! But he’d rather let her believe him to be cold and impersonal than admit she made him fiery hot in more ways than one.
"Thank you Sigmund Freud. Maybe I should just throw myself into analysis, I'm so screwed up."
"You're not screwed up. More the opposite. You're in the highest stress profession in the country and you remain detached."
Wolf bit back a retort. If she had any idea how attached he felt, she'd get a good laugh. He couldn't think of anything he would like more at that moment than to have her touch him.
Kelsey misread his silence. "I think I've insulted you. Can I make it up to you by cooking dinner?"
"I can be bought."
"Tsk, tsk. Prostituting yourself for a steak dinner. And you, a police officer. What is the world coming to?"
"You should see how far I'd go for a raspberry torte."
She stood up and headed towards the kitchen, shaking her head. "Watch out, Krieger. Someday I just might make
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