“Something on your mind, Agent O’Toole?” Britt’s deliciously low voice drifted across the space between them.
You, she could have told him.You’re on my mind.
Instead, she said, “Agent O’Toole, huh? We’re back to being all professional and standoffish with each other?”
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“No.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
His voice dropped to a lower octave. When he said the words, “Then whatdoyou want?” she could feel her heartbeat in the tips of her breasts. And in places a lot farther south.
You, she could’ve said.I want you, you.
But she’d already made that obvious when she’d tried to eat his face off and rub herself to completion against the ridge that’d risen behind his fly. She’d made her want of him obvious, and then he’d soundly rejected her.
Not reallyrejectedyou,a voice of reason argued.Just pointed out that he’s not the kind of man you’re looking for.
Except, despite all her logic and reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he waspreciselywhat she was looking for.
Of course, those were her ovaries talking and not her brain. He felt precisely like what she was looking for because they had chemistry. Careless, carnal, combustible chemistry. And that was an intoxicating thing that muddled her mind and made her want to ignore logic and reason and simply…live.
Live in the moment. Revel in the now. Go with her gut…er…rather her hormones.
Instead of answering him, she said, “I’m just restless, I guess. There’s nothing worse than being up against a ghost. I can deal with an enemy I know. But an enemy I don’t know?” She shook her head.
Silence followed her pronouncement. For a moment, she wondered if he’d call her out for so soundly changing the subject. But eventually, he said, “If anyone can find a ghost, it’s Ozzie.”
“The FBI has firewalls inside their firewalls,” she told him, glad he’d followed her down this new conversational path. Mainly because the old one had been veering into treacherous territory and making her contemplate dangerous things. “I suspect the IRS is even more secure.”
“And Ozzie is a virtual fire jumper. If the evidence is there to be found, Ozzie will find it.”
“But what if finding it takes weeks instead of days? I can’t stay here that long. I can’t worry my family and coworkers like that. I’ll need to?—”
“Don’t borrow tomorrow’s troubles,” he interrupted.
She scoffed. “My wholecareeris about thinking one step ahead. Whoever outed your brother and Mr. Greenlee to the cartel is playing a dangerous game. They have to know that. Which means they’re probably too smart to have left behind a digital footprint.”
“Nah.” She heard a rustling and lifted her chin to find he’d sat up on his pallet. When he leaned his elbows against the stone hearth behind him, the fire at his back cast his form in silhouette. The little tuft of hair over his temple stuck up straight. She had the nearly overwhelming urge to run her hand over it. And then run her hand oversomuch more. “You don’t have to be smart to be dangerous,” he explained. “You don’t avoid a black widow spider because it’s smart.”
She sat up as well. Sleep wasn’t possible with her mind spinning in circles and her chest tight with worry. Itdefinitelywasn’t possible with Sergeant Britt Rollins only three feet away.
Three feet away and wearing gray sweatpants.
Had he done that on purpose? Did he know gray sweatpants were catnip for women?
Talk about MEOW!
She needed a distraction. “Would you have really killed the tactical team guys if they’d found us?”
She watched as his lips pulled wide in a Cheshire cat smile. “Never said I’d kill them.”
“Yes, you did. You said?—”
“That I’d shoot them,” he interrupted. “Shooting someone and killing them are two very different things. If they were synonymous, I’d be pushing up daisies.”
Her momentary relief that he wasn’t the type of man to go around murdering innocent agents for doing their job was immediately replaced by a keen sense of curiosity. “You’ve been shot?”
“Mmm.” He nodded slowly.
