New York's Finest Rebel. Trish Wylie
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‘I … You …’ When her mouth formed words that didn’t appear she clamped it shut, took a short breath through her nose and snapped, ‘What are you doing?’
Damned if he knew but the fact it had flustered her worked for him. ‘Isn’t he a little old for you?’
Something unreadable crossed her eyes before she blinked and lifted her chin. ‘Who are we talking about?’
‘The guy you were with in Bryant Park.’
‘What guy?’
Nice try, but Daniel had never been known to give up that easily. ‘The one you argued with before you dragged him into the subway station.’
‘You were spying on me?’
‘You think when I’m dressed like that I’m supposed to ignore what’s happening around me?’
She sighed heavily and turned away. ‘I don’t have the energy for this.’
‘It’s Wednesday. We’ll pick it up in the coffee shop.’
‘No, we won’t.’
As her door opened he saw her shoulders slump as if she’d been putting considerable effort into disguising how exhausted she was and the proximity to home allowed her to relax. Most folks were the same at the end of a long day but Daniel knew it was more than that. If he hadn’t, he would have got it when she glanced over her shoulder.
Long lashes lifted and for a split second what he could see in her eyes made him frown. He recognized it because he’d seen it in the eyes of men in combat and guys who’d been on the job as a cop for too long. Given no other choice he might have admitted he had been avoiding looking for it in his own eyes in the mirror of late.
If a person’s eyes were really the windows to the soul, part of hers was close to giving up the fight.
He took a step forward before he realized he was doing it, compelled by the need to say something, but unable to find the words. With the men he had worked with they were never needed. There was a silent understanding, an empathy born from shared experiences. A nod of acknowledgement could say as much as a hundred words. Cracking jokes or discussing something inane was more welcome. But someone as full of life as Jo shouldn’t—
When her door closed with a low click, Daniel made a snap decision. It wasn’t as if he had much choice. If she was in trouble and his family knew he hadn’t done something, they would make the roasting he got from his captain look like a weekend barbecue. Taking a long breath, he stepped back and closed the door. In order to prepare for battle he was going to need a few more hours of—hopefully uninterrupted—sleep.
Come daylight he was venturing into enemy territory.
CHAPTER THREE
‘We all know a new outfit can lift our spirits. But how often do we look at the person wearing one and wonder if it’s a hint of something bigger happening inside?’
‘COME on, Jack, pick up.’
Jo rubbed her fingertips across her forehead to ease the first indications of a massive headache. Touching the screen to turn the phone off, she set it down on the table beside her computer. She was going to have to go over there. It was the only way she could be certain where he was.
Sighing heavily, she reached for her coffee cup only to frown at how light it was. If she was going to get a day’s work done in half the time she was going to need a constant supply of caffeine.
‘That his name, is it?’
The sound of a familiar deep voice snapped her gaze to another coffee cup being held out towards her. She blinked at the large hand holding it. ‘Eavesdrop much?’
‘Let’s call it an occupational hazard.’ Daniel rocked his hand a little. ‘You want this or not?’
Her gaze lifted, lingering for a moment on his chest when she remembered what it had looked like naked: taut tanned skin over muscle and a six-pack to make a girl drool. Frowning at the memory, she moved further up until she was looking into too-blue eyes and asked, ‘Why are you buying me coffee?’
‘You looked like you could do with it,’ he replied.
‘You don’t even know how I take it.’
‘Since you’re a regular, I surmised the guy behind the counter would. Turns out I was right.’
Jo’s gaze lowered to the temptation as she weighed up the risk involved with accepting it. Not that he would wait for an invitation to join her, but apart from the fact she wasn’t in the mood to get into a verbal sparring match with him—
‘Your loss.’ He shrugged. Setting it down on the opposite side of the table, he pulled out the empty chair and sat down.
‘There are other tables in here, you know.’
Daniel didn’t say anything, his steady gaze fixed on hers as he took the lid off his cup.
‘We’re not picking up where we left off last night, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said.
‘Technically it was this morning.’
‘I’ve stayed out of your business.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘How about you return the favour and stay out of mine?’ She smiled sweetly, determined not to look at the abandoned coffee on the table in front of him.
Daniel brought his cup to his face and took a deep breath. ‘Nothing quite like a cup of Joe to kick-start the morning …’
While her eyes narrowed at the innuendo, he lifted his other arm and tapped the lid of the abandoned coffee cup with a long forefinger. ‘Sure you don’t want this? Seems a shame for it to go to waste …’
‘What do you want?’
‘Suspicious, aren’t we?’
‘I’ve met you.’
‘And still not a morning person.’ He inclined his head towards the cup. ‘Another shot of caffeine might help.’
Jo fought the need to growl. She wanted that coffee so badly she could taste it on her tongue. Despite her strong-willed determination to stop it happening, her gaze lowered to watch the tip of his forefinger trace an almost absent-minded circle around the edge of the plastic lid. It was one of the most sensual things she had ever seen, adding a new dimension to the temptation, which had nothing to do with caffeine. For a moment her imagination even wondered what the movement would feel like against her skin …
Reaching out, she waggled her fingers. ‘Give.’
His hand moved, fingers curling around the cup to draw it back towards him. ‘How much trouble are you in?’
Her gaze snapped up again. ‘What?’
‘Answer