swept her key card through the reader and heard the door click open. On her second step, her heel hit on something that made her leg slide a few inches. She noticed the envelope with Ben’s name on it. Reaching out, she closed the door behind her.
The air in her lungs started to whirl, but she refused to panic. The man was a judge. He probably got messages under his door all the time. It could be work or personal. It didn’t mean anything. Because her stomach kept jumping around, however, she decided to ignore the rational theory and explore.
She slipped her gun out from under her arm and swept through the office, stalking around the reception area, then down to Rod’s tiny room and across the hall to Ben’s airy office. She led with her weapon, waiting for someone to jump out and attack. With her back to the wall she checked under desks and behind curtains, even pushed open the suite’s closet with the tip of her foot before peeking inside the courtroom from Ben’s private entrance. No one else was in there.
Her head said everything was fine. The dropping sensation inside her convinced her to remain wary. She returned to the reception area and grabbed a tissue off Elaine’s desk. With the mysterious envelope pinched between her fingers, she walked back to Ben’s office. Careful not to drop it or smudge any prints, she carried the paper and placed it on his desk. Studied it for anything unusual.
She grabbed for her cell phone to call Mark.
“What are you doing?” Ben’s amused voice rang through the room.
And scared the hell out of her. She almost wasted all her careful efforts by putting her hands on the envelope when she jumped. “Where’s Mark?”
“Good morning to you.”
“I’m not kidding. We need Mark.”
“I saw you in here and told him to go. He’s over in Emma’s office.” Ben dropped his briefcase on the couch and walked over to stand beside her. “Why?”
“We may have a problem.”
“And you plan to resolve it with a tissue?”
She glanced up at him. His black suit and bright blue tie highlighted his dark good looks. The joking smile on his lips gave him a younger and softer look than the one he wore while sitting on the bench listening to cases. On the job he wore his stern judge face, never unfair but not one to take any crap, either. In this office he seemed more…human. Right now he was a stalked human.
“You got a letter,” she said.
“I get mail all the time.”
“Who opens it?”
“Elaine.”
“Well, this is different.”
Ben stared at the envelope and then back at Callie. “Because?”
“It was on the floor by the door when I came in.”
“And?”
“That’s a problem.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is it possible you’re overreacting?”
No way was she agreeing to that. “It’s just as possible I’m not.”
“Hard to argue with that logic. Let me open it.” He reached for the envelope, but she pulled it out of reach by body-blocking him with her hip.
“No.”
The touch of her thigh against his stopped them both, but she shook off the shiver and focused on the problems in front of her—the paper and the knucklehead standing next to her. For some reason Ben refused to see the danger around him. She didn’t understand his blockage. Nothing in his file explained how a man who once thrived on the adrenaline rush of carrying a gun and fighting for his country could be so cavalier about his own safety. She would figure it out eventually, but not today. The job right now was to keep him alive long enough to smack some sense into him.
Callie tried reason first. “We need to have a forensics team come in here and—”
“We need to open it to make sure it’s not a regular letter from a lawyer. An admirer.”
“You get a lot of fan mail, do you?”
He shrugged. “Other people like me.”
It was the one guy who wanted Ben dead she worried about. “I find that really hard to believe.”
He exhaled. “I’m opening it.”
“We need Mark.”
Ben’s stance changed. The lazy smile disappeared and his shoulders tensed. “I’m a grown man. I can open my own mail.”
So this was a guy thing. The big bad judge didn’t want the little woman saving his ass or calling in reinforcements. Yeah, well. Tough. “This isn’t a test of your virility. Something could be in there. You could destroy evidence.”
“Then we’ll do it another way,” he said.
“What do you—” Words caught in her throat when he slid his arm between her stomach and the slim top drawer of his desk. The sleeve of his jacket brushed against her and his scent filled her senses as he leaned with his mouth so close to her breast.
Visions of being with him in a different time and place danced in her head. What he was doing was mundane. What his presence did to her deep inside could only be described as violent. She wanted to feel the hot rush of his breath against her. Shook with the need to run her fingers through his hair and watch as his head turned from the desk to her body.
She inhaled through her nose, trying to calm her breathing and pull her mind back to the job. She had to at least pretend to be professional, but her heartbeat had taken off at a full gallop. In her head, she struggled to like Ben. To ignore his stubbornness and obvious need to control everything and everyone around him.
Her body arrived at a very different conclusion about the man. He got close and she turned to pudding. Her muscles strained and her mind spun with ways to get him out of his suit.
“What was your assignment before this?” he asked in a husky tone that broke her out of the sexual fantasy spinning in her head.
“Why?”
“It made you paranoid.” He stood back up holding a letter opener. “I’ll slice the top. You can hold the paper the entire time.”
“I don’t—”
“So that you’re clear for the future, that was a statement and not a request.” He held the very edge of the envelope and cut it open. “See? No need for a recon team.”
“Uh-huh.”
His smile fell. “What’s wrong with you now?”
Other than the fact seeing the guy with a letter opener got her all hot and bothered? Nothing. “What does it say?”
She read over his shoulder. Heard a gruff rumble hit his chest right before
