“Dangerous,” he countered.
“Whatever.”
“You’d be relinquishing the job to professionals. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me. I gave up a decent job, with a decent salary and dreams of finishing school to run this family business. Because, despite it all, I love my family. Now I find out it might be a front for an escort service. Am I the only one who doesn’t miss the irony here? I have to see this through to the end. And I have to clear my aunt’s name.”
In her voice, Kane heard the same determination he felt on every case. In her eyes, he saw the familiar need to accomplish a goal. He respected it enough to want to know more. “Just what irony are you talking about?” he asked quietly.
She rose from the couch and crossed the room until she stood beside him. Her scent worked against his restraint, tantalizing his senses, seducing his soul.
“It’s proof,” she whispered. Meeting his gaze, she lifted her hand, then let it drift downward, boldly outlining the rounded swell of her breast and the generous curve of her hips. Her nipples pressed taut and rigid beneath the cream-colored T-shirt she’d changed into before dinner.
His mouth grew dry, his palms damp. Wanting Kayla wasn’t new. It was as much a part of him as breathing. But right now, it was damned inappropriate. His brain registered the fact his pulsing body seemed determined to ignore.
With great difficulty, and even breathing, willpower won out. “Proof of what?” he asked.
“This.” Her hand traced her curves once more. “This is an illusion.”
“A beautiful one.” One that tormented him on a minute by minute basis.
Thinking back to their first meeting gave him a clue as to what she meant now. He recalled her inability to accept a compliment and her immediate withdrawal whenever he stared too long, or got too close. He’d gotten past those barriers, but not without effort.
He glanced at the body made for sin. “But it’s not what counts,” he said.
“You’re the first person to recognize that.” Appreciation lit her gaze and a warm smile lifted her lips. The knowledge that he could touch her on such a fundamental level pleased him.
“You’re the first person to see beyond what I look like. Kids at school lied about sleeping with me and men I’ve dated thought I’d be easy.”
He wanted to kill anyone who’d hurt her.
“It’s one thing for me to run a charm school. Another for someone like me to take over what turns out to be an escort service or worse. I mean, look at me. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the girl they couldn’t vote most likely to do anything, because they believed she already had. Of course, she and her family are behind a prostitution ring,” she said with a brittle laugh.
Kane would have liked to go back in time. To beat the living daylights out of anyone who had even looked at her sideways. And if they had the nerve to put a finger on her body, or let her name pass through their lips…then he’d like to…
She reached upward. Her fingertips traced what had to be a scowl creasing his forehead, then she smiled. “Don’t look so fierce.” Her voice was lighter now. “I grew up hearing it. Words can’t hurt me anymore.”
Her steady green gaze zeroed in on his. She pinned him in place with a searing look. “But lack of faith in me, in my abilities, can. You can.”
He didn’t need an interpreter to understand. He’d just been suckered by the intelligent woman beneath the well-rounded curves. He’d been taken in by the best.
Kane shook his head. He had to admit, he was impressed. He’d never run into someone who could hold their own with him, let alone best him without much effort. He hated and respected her involvement with the case, all at the same time.
Should he continue to fight her determination by opposing her plan, he’d be no better than the bastards who came before him. Men who’d looked at the body and assumed she was easy.
Kane knew better. She challenged him. She intrigued him. And though she’d not only enticed him but seduced him on many levels, Kayla Luck was far from easy.
Caught in a trap of his own making, he had no choice but to support her, back her, and make damn sure he did his job.
No mistakes. No distractions allowed.
* * *
Her shower finished, Kayla puttered around the bedroom. The sun had set and only the small light of a lamp illuminated the room. She fluffed her pillows, then sat down on the edge of the mattress. Alone.
Just outside the closed door, she heard Kane prowling around the kitchen. Though she lived with her sister and was used to the sounds of another person in the house, Kane’s presence lent a different feel. Anticipatory. Intimate.
She glanced at her clothing choices for tonight laid out on the bed. On the one hand, the washed football jersey Kane had picked out for her the other day. On the other, a frilly negligee stolen from Catherine’s drawer.
Choices. How many times since she’d met Kane had fundamental decisions come down to two drastically different choices? To seduce or not to seduce. To…
The jarring ring of the doorbell startled her. She clipped her damp hair off her forehead, yanked on the lapels of her robe, and started for the door.
She didn’t get far before Catherine’s voice sounded loud inside the house. “No lectures, Detective. I have a right to clean clothes.”
“Ever hear of a washing machine?” Kane asked.
“I’ll be out of your hair in less than five minutes.” Footsteps sounded in the hall and drew closer. “Make it ten. I want a visit with the prisoner.”
Kayla laughed aloud. A talk with her outspoken sister was exactly what she
