“You okay?” Beau asked through the headphones. He seemed more himself now that they had formulated a plan, far more in command of the situation. Beau was a man who liked being in control, another thing she had learned about him last night, a thought that made her face heat up again.
“I’m fine,” she said, though of course she really wasn’t. She was just as worried as he was, maybe more so. Men were dying. No one knew why. Until the killer or killers were caught, Beau could be in danger.
It didn’t take long before the chopper landed on the roof of the Tex/Am building. Beau hurried her into the elevator and they went straight down to the parking garage.
“My house is only seven miles away,” he said as the valet brought up his black BMW. “We’ll be there in less than twenty minutes.”
We. Clearly, he wasn’t giving her a choice. She could argue, make him take her to her apartment, but she was still working the case and it would be easier with his input.
He drove through the Bluffview district, an area of big, beautiful, very expensive homes. No one was around whenhe turned into the long, curving driveway toward the sprawling, white, flat-roofed contemporary house up ahead.
“Looks like we’re safe for the moment,” Beau said.
Safe?Cassidy thought of last night, caught the hot gleam in those fierce blue eyes, and knew she wasn’t safe at all.
Chapter Fifteen
“Your home is lovely,” Cassidy said, ambling through the modern interior. Twelve-foot ceilings, lots of white with accents of cool tones: blue, green, turquoise. Beautiful modern paintings to brighten the walls. The windows at the back of the house looked out on the aqua waters of a free-form swimming pool.
“If it was warmer, we could go for a swim,” Beau said as he walked up behind her, bent and nuzzled her neck. Little slivers of heat shot through her.
“It’s nice and private,” he said. “We wouldn’t even need swimsuits.” Another nibble, followed by the warm press of his lips against the sensitive spot below her ear. “Or we could get in the whirlpool down at the end. Nice and hot in there.”
Hot. She was already on the verge of bursting into flames. She closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to make love with Beau in the warm water of the hot pool.
She turned, rested her palms on his chest as she looked up at him. “We need to be working the case. Besides, it’s starting to rain.”
She hoped her refusal didn’t sound as half-hearted as she was afraid it did. They didn’t have time for sex. Every moment was crucial. “By the way, I found something. It might be important.”
Beau bent his head for a soft, lingering kiss, then drew away. “I hope you’re giving me points for self-control here, because working is the last thing I want to be doing right now.”
“You haven’t had much sleep. Maybe we could take a nap later.”
His eyes gleamed. “Now there’s an idea I like.” He grabbed the files he had set on the table, grabbed the handle of her carry-on and rolled it down the hall. “Let’s get you settled, then we can talk about what you found.”
She should tell him she couldn’t stay. She didn’t need to get involved even more deeply with Beau. Instead, she followed him, ignoring a pang of disappointment when he walked past the master suite and tugged her carry-on into the bedroom next door.
“You’ve got your own bathroom. Do you need to unpack first, or should we set up your computer?”
She glanced around the room, which continued the modern theme of the house. The platform bed was low, the bedspread chocolate brown with bright orange and red throw pillows. “I don’t see a desk. Maybe the kitchen table or someplace else would work.”
“There’s a partners’ desk in my study. It’s handy if you have someone working with you on a project. Linc used to come over at least once a week. He’s home most nights now that he’s married.”
Beau led her back down the hall, opened a ten-foot door that matched the others in the house, and walked her into the study.
“So how come you never got married?” she asked.
Beau turned. His smile had faded, his features closed up. Any hint of heat in his eyes was gone.
“I was engaged once. It was a long time ago.”
Clearly it was a sensitive subject. His hard look warned her not to press for more, but she was a detective. Discovering secrets was part of her DNA.
“What happened?”
His mouth tightened. “She died,” he said flatly. Definitely end of topic.
Grabbing the computer out of her hand, he walked to the opposite side of his freestanding desk. Built of the same blond wood as the hardwood floors, the desk was lovely, all smooth lines and perfect angles. On top sat a masterwork of modern computer technology that had to cost thousands of dollars.
