deliberately looked away, scanning his town house.
He’d had the whole place done over when he bought it a few months after his divorce was finalized, and the result was three levels of late eighteenth century period-correct hardwood floors, exposed beams and horsehair plaster, offset with modern touches of marble, chrome and glass. The decorator he’d hired had gone with greens and blues, and from the entryway the splashes of color were visible both on the second floor, which was level with the front door, and the upper level, which had been partly cut away to form a balcony of sorts surrounding the cathedral ceiling of the sitting room on the second floor.
He’d left the bottom floor untouched and used it as his gym, but the main floors practically screamed “understated opulence,” which was what he’d been going for.
Now, though, he wondered what Mandy saw when she looked around. And, realizing that her response mattered far more than it should, he realized something else.
She was the first woman, other than the decorator and the cleaning lady, that he’d invited into his home.
“Nice.” Mandy hummed a note under her breath. “Very nice.” But there was something guarded in her voice when she said, “Did you bring the files on the other victims?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You can have a look at them, let me know if you see anything we missed.”
But he didn’t hand them over, didn’t move except to draw in a deep breath, one that brought her scent to him, a mix of shampoo and woman he’d told himself he’d forgotten long ago. Now, though, it was inescapable, and it triggered memories he could’ve sworn were gone forever, memories of heat and chaos, and a blond-haired girl who’d—both then and now—stirred him up more than had been comfortable, or wise.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” he said. “You and me working together on this…it’s just not a good idea.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Because of this.” Before she knew what he intended, hell before he was conscious of making the move, Parker crossed the distance separating them.
And kissed her.
Chapter Four
Mandy froze in shock the moment Radcliff’s lips touched hers.
The first thought that flitted through her mind was a panicked sort of relief that the attraction she’d been feeling with increasing sharpness throughout the day wasn’t one-sided.
Her second thought never materialized; it was lost beneath a wash of heat when his mouth slanted across hers.
She parted her lips and kissed him back, her body responding before her mind had a chance to catch up. Warning buzzers sounded dimly in the back of her brain, but she couldn’t bring herself to care just then. She was awash in sensation, suddenly drowning beneath a wave of need.
The stubble of his faint beard rasped beneath her fingertips when she lifted a hand to touch his jaw, urging him closer. She closed her eyes and tried not to go boneless when his tongue touched hers and every neuron she possessed flared to life simultaneously on a shouted thought: Finally!
Finally he held her close, his touch arrogant and possessive, like the man himself. Finally his body pressed against hers and his scent filled her nostrils—a poignantly familiar blend of hospital soap and the spiciness that was his alone.
She melted against him, curled herself around him and hung on for a kiss that began at the point where their mouths fused, but then spiraled outward, becoming far more than itself.
What started as taste and touch quickly became heat and need. Desire had her sliding her hands down his neck to his upper arms, where she dug her fingers into the heavy leather of his jacket until she felt the tight muscles beneath. Lust coiled, hard and demanding, warning her that she’d been lying to herself for the past month, and maybe for the four years before that.
She’d told herself she’d gotten over him, but she’d been wrong. Otherwise, it would’ve taken more than a kiss before she was right back in the same place she’d been before, half-blind with desire, and ready to give up anything to be with him.
This time when the warning buzzers shrilled, she heard them loud and clear.
She froze in his arms, then pulled her lips from his. They were twined together in an intimate embrace, with her back against the entryway wall, one of his thighs wedged between hers, and her fingers digging into his arms as though he was the only thing keeping her on her feet. “Wait,” she said, her voice coming out thin and breathy.
In the hallway light he’d flicked on when they’d come in, she could see his pulse pounding at the side of his neck. A dark, indefinable emotion gleamed in his eyes momentarily, one that looked very much like anger and had nerves fisting in her stomach. Then his expression blanked and he stepped away from her, leaving her to lean against the wall for support.
“Like I said, this is a bad idea.” His voice was thick, rasping with desire. “I can’t work with you.”
His words cut deep, but still the memories crowded her, brought by the taste and feel of him, and by the lure of the illicit, the sense that they shouldn’t be doing what they were doing. Unfortunately she was enough of a grown-up now to admit that the forbidden aspects had always been part of the lure.
You’re better than that, she told herself, and meant it. You’re stronger and smarter than you were before. Believe it.
Because she believed it, she lifted her chin and met his dark-eyed stare. “Why won’t it work, because we’re attracted to each other? Please. That didn’t stop you from kicking me to the curb four years ago. I’d like to think I can return the favor now by not letting it get personal if we’re forced to work in close quarters for the next few days.”
“I hardly call what we just did ‘not getting personal,’” Radcliff said without an ounce of humor. “Personally I call it a hell of a distraction, and I’m not in a position to be distracted right now.”
Mandy was far from feeling casual, but managed to interject a hint of boredom into her tone. “So control yourself. You kissed me, not the other way around. It’s not like I took two steps inside your door and started stripping.”
She had once before, though, in a different time and place. They’d slept together one time, and he’d tried to end it, saying he wasn’t in a good place, that she deserved better. Thinking him overly noble, she’d invited herself over and seduced him. The memory of it crept into her brain, bringing a warm flush to the skin of her face and arms.
From the glint in his eyes, she wasn’t the only one taking a little trip down memory lane. That guess was confirmed when he said, “No, but you weren’t exactly complaining just now.”
“I can enjoy locking lips without letting it mess with my head these days.” She raised an eyebrow. “I should probably thank you for that.”
“Don’t.” He turned away from her suddenly, and yanked off his jacket in a surge of motion that was at odds with his usual rigid control. He looped the jacket onto a rack of hooks near the door and held out a hand for her parka. “Let’s go sit down. I think we need to talk this through.”
She handed over the
