Read Online Running Hot by Jayne Ann Krentz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
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accommodations. Maybe he should consider a position in the Bureau of Genealogy.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Thought I’d take a walk on the beach,” she said. “I’ve been in a plane or on the road for most of the day. I’d like to unwind before dinner.”
It was time to explain the facts of life, he decided.
“Got one rule on this job,” he said. “We’ll call it Rule Number One.”
She raised her brows. “And that would be?”
“I give the orders, and the first order is that you don’t leave this room alone. No wandering off on your own unless I give permission.”
She inclined her head very politely. “I take it that means you’re coming down to the beach with me.”
“What the hell. I need to get a feel for the terrain, anyway.” He opened the door for her. “But the order still stands. You don’t go out of here on your own. Got it?”
She went past him, neatly avoiding any accidental contact. “Fallon Jones said that you were in charge on this mission.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He followed her out into the hall and closed the door, waiting a beat until he heard it lock securely. Satisfied, he walked with Grace toward the elevator lobby, fighting the temptation to move into the invisible Don’t Touch Zone that enveloped her like another kind of aura. He noticed that her arms were folded beneath her breasts in a seemingly casual manner. If you looked closely, however, you could see that her fingers were tucked safely out of sight.
He brooded on what might have happened to a woman to make her dread touching another human being. The realization that a little skin-to-skin contact with him might actually cause her psychic pain was troubling. It just didn’t seem right that she might not be able to abide his touch; not when he was so certain that touching her would bring him nothing but pleasure.
“I’m starting to feel guilty about the glove thing,” he said.
“As well you should.”
“Damn it—”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” she said. She smiled wryly. “Wearing them on this mission would not be at all professional.”
He searched for another path through the Don’t Touch Zone.
“How long have you been in Genealogy?” he asked.
“A year.”
“That’s all? Fallon implied that he considered you very valuable.”
She glowed. “I’m delighted to hear that. Mr. Jones is not what you would call forthcoming with positive feedback.”
“He’s never going to be up for Boss of the Year, that’s for sure. But take it from me, he wouldn’t have used your professional services more than once if he hadn’t been impressed.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What did you do before you went to work for the Society?”
“Didn’t Mr. Jones tell you?” she asked.
“Fallon can be vague about details that he doesn’t consider important.”
“I used to work for a company called Crocker World.”
He stopped in front of the elevators and pressed the call button. “Martin Crocker’s company?”
“Yes.” She looked politely surprised. “You were aware of the company?”
“Crocker’s death made headlines. It was also big news within the Society. He was a member. Funded a lot of research projects.”
“Yes, I know.”
“What did you do at Crocker World?”
“I was on the corporate research library staff. After Mr. Crocker died, it became obvious that the firm was in trouble. Everyone knew that the company would fall apart without him at the helm. I could see the writing on the wall, so I started job hunting immediately.”
It was all said very smoothly, very casually, but there was something ever so slightly off. Luther jacked up his senses until he had a clear view of her aura. He might not be able to see details the way she apparently did, but he could make out certain strong emotions. There was tension in the energy field that blazed around her, the kind that, as a cop, he’d learned to associate with a well-crafted lie.
“How long
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Thought I’d take a walk on the beach,” she said. “I’ve been in a plane or on the road for most of the day. I’d like to unwind before dinner.”
It was time to explain the facts of life, he decided.
“Got one rule on this job,” he said. “We’ll call it Rule Number One.”
She raised her brows. “And that would be?”
“I give the orders, and the first order is that you don’t leave this room alone. No wandering off on your own unless I give permission.”
She inclined her head very politely. “I take it that means you’re coming down to the beach with me.”
“What the hell. I need to get a feel for the terrain, anyway.” He opened the door for her. “But the order still stands. You don’t go out of here on your own. Got it?”
She went past him, neatly avoiding any accidental contact. “Fallon Jones said that you were in charge on this mission.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He followed her out into the hall and closed the door, waiting a beat until he heard it lock securely. Satisfied, he walked with Grace toward the elevator lobby, fighting the temptation to move into the invisible Don’t Touch Zone that enveloped her like another kind of aura. He noticed that her arms were folded beneath her breasts in a seemingly casual manner. If you looked closely, however, you could see that her fingers were tucked safely out of sight.
He brooded on what might have happened to a woman to make her dread touching another human being. The realization that a little skin-to-skin contact with him might actually cause her psychic pain was troubling. It just didn’t seem right that she might not be able to abide his touch; not when he was so certain that touching her would bring him nothing but pleasure.
“I’m starting to feel guilty about the glove thing,” he said.
“As well you should.”
“Damn it—”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” she said. She smiled wryly. “Wearing them on this mission would not be at all professional.”
He searched for another path through the Don’t Touch Zone.
“How long have you been in Genealogy?” he asked.
“A year.”
“That’s all? Fallon implied that he considered you very valuable.”
She glowed. “I’m delighted to hear that. Mr. Jones is not what you would call forthcoming with positive feedback.”
“He’s never going to be up for Boss of the Year, that’s for sure. But take it from me, he wouldn’t have used your professional services more than once if he hadn’t been impressed.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What did you do before you went to work for the Society?”
“Didn’t Mr. Jones tell you?” she asked.
“Fallon can be vague about details that he doesn’t consider important.”
“I used to work for a company called Crocker World.”
He stopped in front of the elevators and pressed the call button. “Martin Crocker’s company?”
“Yes.” She looked politely surprised. “You were aware of the company?”
“Crocker’s death made headlines. It was also big news within the Society. He was a member. Funded a lot of research projects.”
“Yes, I know.”
“What did you do at Crocker World?”
“I was on the corporate research library staff. After Mr. Crocker died, it became obvious that the firm was in trouble. Everyone knew that the company would fall apart without him at the helm. I could see the writing on the wall, so I started job hunting immediately.”
It was all said very smoothly, very casually, but there was something ever so slightly off. Luther jacked up his senses until he had a clear view of her aura. He might not be able to see details the way she apparently did, but he could make out certain strong emotions. There was tension in the energy field that blazed around her, the kind that, as a cop, he’d learned to associate with a well-crafted lie.
“How long
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