Against The Odds. Donna Kauffman

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Against The Odds - Donna  Kauffman Mills & Boon Blaze

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watched her slip quietly into the hall. He’d probably never see her again. He wasn’t involved in the investigation, had no reason to contact her. In fact, he should track down Mig and see about getting that ride back to the hotel. Maybe get a chance to learn more about what was going on, what they’d found out. That’s what he should have been focused on, what he was here for. To learn.

      What he did, however, was step forward at the last possible second to catch the door before it snapped shut. He had no idea what he was going to say to her, he just knew he wasn’t okay with letting her walk away. He ducked into the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her before she turned a corner—and almost steamrolled right over top of her.

      There was a muffled thump as she tried to avoid the collision and hit the opposite wall instead. She swore something that sounded like “God’s balls,” then straightened quickly away from the wall, and him.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were still right by the door,” Tucker said, instinctively reaching for her to steady her.

      She moved back, her expression making it quite clear she was steady enough thank-you-very-much. “I—uh, I was merely, um—” She broke off and pushed her fingers through her hair before dropping them a bit self-consciously and straightening her shoulders.

      Not so steady when caught off guard, Tucker noted with interest.

      “Can’t find your way home?”

      Color bloomed very becomingly on her cheeks, and not so becomingly across the base of her neck, where her hand fluttered as if aware that reaction might occur. Oddly, he was more attracted to the fluttering hands and splotchy neck than he was the rosy perfection of her English complexion.

      “I simply need to use the phone and contact my…contact the desk.” She drew herself up, but kept her hand at her neck, on the pretense of clutching her robe closed, he thought. Except that robe was so tightly belted nothing short of a hurricane was going to rip it open.

      A hurricane or the attentions of a very determined lover.

      He ducked that vision, but not the smile it brought to his lips. “I have a map of the resort layout. If you tell me your room number, I’ll be happy to escort you.”

      “That won’t be necessary.”

      “Fine. But with everything that’s happened tonight, it might take management a while to send someone. Several of the guests were— Well, let’s just say they didn’t take the news that someone had been murdered on the premises as well as you did.”

      “What exactly are you insinuating?”

      She was the oddest mix of stiff upper lip and nervous twitches. He was beginning to think both performances were a part of who she really was. How intriguing. “Nothing. In fact, I admired the way you handled the whole thing.”

      “Indeed,” she said, more to herself than to him.

      “Indeed,” he repeated. “You know, I won’t bite.” At her questioning look, he directed his gaze to the death grip she had on her robe.

      “I’m not accustomed to socializing in little more than a cellophane wrapper.”

      “But handling police interrogations are no problem at all apparently. At least, you’d never have guessed otherwise from your performance in there.”

      The slightest of smiles quirked her lips as she studied his face. “I’m not so sure I believe you. About the biting.”

      “You totally fascinate me.” He saw no reason not to just admit that up front.

      The smile faltered, the grip tightened.

      But he didn’t back down. “One moment you’re the royal queen, entertaining her subjects. The next you’re like…well, I can’t describe it really. Uncertain of yourself. Though I can’t imagine how or why.”

      She shifted the slightest step farther away from him, but didn’t directly comment on his evaluation other than to say, “Yes, well, the circumstances here are a bit far removed from the typical, aren’t they? Tends to make a person behave in ways somewhat out of step with the norm. Not all that fascinating really. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She motioned with her head to the office door, which he was now blocking.

      “Misty—”

      She shot him a look of surprise.

      “I was standing right in the room. I might not be directly involved in the investigation, but I do know your name.” And your occupation, he thought, but didn’t say. As it was, she probably thought he was another slug, interested more by what she did, and in this case where she was presently doing it, than who she was. Well, he admitted to being intrigued by all that, but his interest had been sparked long before he knew anything about her job. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that she’d been stark naked at the time.

      “Exactly how is it you came to be assisting this department? You said you were in town for a fire marshal class or something? I’m surprised they’ve allowed such familiarity.”

      And here he was, wishing she’d allow him a bit more familiarity. “Professional courtesy. The classes are in forensic investigation. I was having a late dinner with two of the instructors when they were called to the scene. I tagged along.”

      “And was it professional courtesy that had you lurking behind the screen in my room?”

      “I wasn’t lurking.” Leering a little maybe, he thought, but hell, what red-blooded man wouldn’t have? He didn’t attempt to make that distinction, however. “And I am sorry for putting you in such an awkward situation.”

      She gave him a look. “You seem to be very good at that.”

      He smiled. “Yeah, apparently I am.”

      “Yes. Well.” She shifted slightly. “Don’t let me keep you from whatever duty it was that sent you racing out of the door.”

      “Actually, I came racing out the door to catch you.”

      “Did the officers have something else they wanted?”

      He looked directly at her, waited until her eyes met his. “No. But I did.”

      She blinked. Several times.

      “As I said before. You fascinate me. And it’s not the location, or what you’re wearing, or even what you do for a living.” He raised his hand as she raised her eyebrow. “I didn’t miss much.”

      “No, I don’t believe you do.”

      “I won’t lie. All of that is interesting. I’m an investigator, I can’t help being curious. But that’s not why I ran out here. I’m not all lathered up because I think you’re a hot piece looking for some action for your next book.”

      Those eyes of hers widened momentarily, before her regal reserve once again settled around her like a well-worn mantle. “So, I’m not a ‘hot piece’ then? Well, that’s certainly a bit of news. I’m extremely relieved to hear it.”

      Tucker felt color rise in his cheeks and tried to recall the

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