“I’ll be fine, Steve. The problem is—Lewis, the male chauvinist pig himself, has been assigned to help the local authorities.”

“Lewis?” He laughed. “You won’t get much information from him, that’s for sure. I told you to be nice to him.”

“I tried.”

“Calling him a red-faced, perverted pig was nice?”

She sighed. “He deserved it, Steve, and you know it. He treated all the females in the bureau like they were ornaments, not professionals. And may I remind you he had played a nasty little joke on Rebecca—who happens to be a damn good agent—and almost got her fired in the process.”

“I know, but you do tend to speak your mind a little too bluntly at times.”

“But I tell the truth,” she argued.

“Yes,” he said with a smile in his voice. “That you do. I’ll see what I can find out and call you later today.”

“Thanks Steve.” She gave him her number and said a quick goodbye.

Lindsey turned to lock gazes with Mark. The impact was nothing less than magnetic. So much so that there was simply no use fighting it. The attraction was too magnetic, too powerful. She’d spent a good hour in bed the night before thinking about this thing between them.

To act on it or not had been the question she battled to answer. Finally, she had decided to act . . . only on her terms.

* * * * *

Don’t you want some coffee?” she asked with a nod towards the kitchen.

He didn’t care about the damn coffee. He wanted to know who she had been on the phone with. He followed her, his eyes admiring the soft little sway of her curvy hips. She looked like pure temptation in her snug jeans. He’d thought she looked amazing in business attire. In casual wear, she was even more alluring. Perhaps more approachable.

The woman lit him up like a match. Never, ever had he wanted someone the way he did her.

Mark never mixed business with pleasure. In Lindsey’s case, he wouldn’t be at Paxton if it weren’t for her. In his mind, that justified pursuing Lindsey. And he had every intention of seeing where their attraction would lead.

He stepped into the doorway of the kitchen, feeling the unwelcome, but undeniable, white-hot flare of jealousy. “Friend?” he asked, unable to keep the question from flowing from his lips.

A puzzled expression filled her face. “What?”

“On the phone.”

“Oh,” she said. “My old partner.” She sat her cup on the counter and reached into the cabinet and pulled out another as she added, “Before I moved to Washington.” She poured coffee in both cups, and turned her attention to Mark. “Cream or sugar?”

“Black is fine. Thanks.” He stepped forward and took the cup from her. “Partner or boyfriend?”

“What?” she asked, acting confused. It seemed sincere. He wanted to believe it was. “Boyfriend? You mean Steve?” She laughed. “My old partner, my boyfriend?” She reached for her cup, seeming more amused than angry at the questions. “He’s married. In fact, his wife’s a dear friend. Steve’s digging up some insider info on the case for us.”

“That’s good.” Mark relaxed a bit. “Anything would be helpful at this point.”

He leaned an elbow on the counter, and sat his cup down, surprised when she did the same. They faced one another, the look they shared like a live charge of electricity. Her soft smell floated across the steaming coffee, carrying with it a sensual wave of heat.

A silent understanding passed between them, a mutual need that surpassed words. The question was—did either dare cross the line of business and pleasure? For Mark, he had already decided, yes. He could only hope she too would allow them to explore what was so evidently, so potently, a mutual attraction.

He knew the moment she reached for escape. Something—a hint of fear—flashed in those way too alluring eyes. And then she spoke, and he knew her intent was to change the mood. “I’m going to call him back and asked him to run a national search for crimes that match our profile since Hudson went to jail.”

“Hudson?” he arched a brow.

She shrugged. “The two profiles fit—Williams and Hudson. Who knows at this point? I even considered they could both be innocent and the real criminal is still at large.”

He had been afraid she would revisit the past rather than focus on the present. It appeared she was. “You think Hudson is innocent?”

Lindsey looked down at the floor, and he could tell she fought with her emotions. “Just covering my bases.”

“Lindsey?”

She raised her eyes and looked at him. The rich color of green took his breath away. Or maybe it was the simple awareness he felt each and every time their eyes locked. He watched with admiration as she reached for control and overcame her emotional state.

This time he changed the subject. “You look good today.”

Surprise lit her eyes, but, to his satisfaction, not displeasure. Then, to his utter amazement, she let her eyes roam down his body and back up. A bold move no doubt meant to send him a message. She was considering . . .

“I suppose you pass inspection,” she teased.

He raised an eyebrow, laughter in his eyes. “You suppose?”

“You’ll do,” she said, and started to walk past him.

He sidestepped, blocking her way into the small kitchen. “Perhaps I should show you how well I will do?” His voice was low.

“Do you always feel the need to prove yourself?” she challenged.

He gave her a hot look. No way could he hide what he was feeling. Not that he intended to. He wanted Lindsey, and he wanted her to know it. And yes, he had an agenda. One he wasn’t hiding anymore than he was his desire. “With you, it seems I do.”

Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks, dark crescents against the ivory of her skin. As if she was thinking, perhaps struggling with her response. She looked up at him, her eyes now darker. Hotter. “Why, Mark? Why do you want to prove anything to me?”

He never blinked, nor did he hesitate in his response. He’d given this very question a lot of thought. “I admit, I can’t explain it. I’m not one to dance around a subject. You do things to me, Lindsey. I came back to Paxton for you, and only for you.”

Her eyes widened. “And your reputation, of course.”

No more games. He didn’t like them, and he wanted the air clear. Honest. “I could have dealt with the reputation thing without coming back, and we both know it.”

There was a long, drawn-out silence as they stood there, so close they were practically touching, staring into each other’s eyes. He wanted to kiss her so damn bad it was like a need as critical as his next breath. He swayed towards her, his head tilting downward, closer to her. Lindsey’s lips trembled ever so slightly, and he could almost taste his anticipation.

But then she stiffened, and he knew she had talked herself into getting spooked. The dismissal came next. She delicately cleared her throat. “We need to get going, Mark.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to offset the rage of his body with the movement. “You and I both know what’s between us, but if you need time, I’ll give you time.” With that said, he stepped aside to let her pass.

She appeared stunned by his statement, standing there, staring, unmoving. When she started walking, he let her come parallel with him, and then he grabbed her arm. His face moved very near hers, his eyes fixed on her face. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’m not what caused those shadows in your eyes. I’m here now, not a part of the past, and no matter how hard you push me, I won’t run.”

His eyes bore into hers, his intent to let her know he meant business. He’d decided he wanted Lindsey, and he was going to do what it took to earn her trust. After several potent seconds, he released her.

And she took off like a scared cat.

Chapter Five

The décor-free, musty room surrounded them like an empty shell.