Full Speed by Janet Evanovich Read Free Book Online

Nice photo. Shows off his blue eyes."
    "Stop drooling; you're supposed to remain objective, remember?"
    "Do you think you could hold off being insufferable until I've had a chance to study Rawlins's file?"
    "So you're saying you and me, a hot shower, and me licking you dry afterward isn't likely?"
    A shiver ran up Jamie's backbone, touching each vertebra along the way. "See what I mean? I haven't been here five minutes, and you're already breaking the rules."
    Max moved to the sofa. His gaze met hers. "You know the score. You knew it when you walked through that front door."
    Jamie felt his thigh touch hers, but she refused to move and make a big deal out of it. "What are you trying to say?"
    "You're after something."
    She arched one brow. "And that something would be you?"
    He shrugged. "I know the story is important to you. The fact you might have me as well is just an added bonus."
    It was all she could do to keep from bursting into laughter. His sense of humor was one of the qualities she most appreciated in him. "Enjoying yourself, Max?" she said as though talking to a child. It didn't help that Max had already painted a picture in her mind of the two of them naked beneath a warm spray of water.
    She took a deep breath and studied the printout before her. Max was quiet, but she could sense his gaze on her, smell his aftershave. She was attracted to him on all levels. But she had to stop thinking along those lines, because she already knew the dangers. Max Holt was hazardous to a woman's heart.
    "I see Rawlins's psychology courses helped immensely in his calling," she said, changing the subject. "It says here that he uses a number of techniques to win people over and control his followers."
    "Brainwashing, fear tactics, and hypnosis being among them," Max said. "There's also a lot of peer pressure from within the group. People like to fit in. Rawlins plants his people in the group to draw visitors in and keep them in."
    Jamie wished Max would scoot over, but to suggest it would let him know he was having an effect on her. Not that he didn't already know, she reminded herself. Max knew women, and he knew how to play them.
    "So this is what you wanted me to see."
    "I thought it might give you insight as to the kind of man we're dealing with."
    "But why would he go to so much trouble when most of this area is impoverished? Why isn't he trying to convert the wealthy?"
    "Rawlins knows he isn't going to make money in Sweet Pea, but how would it look to the public if he didn't help the people he grew up with? He's offered to meet their donations tenfold. It might make headlines, but tenfold of almost nothing equals very little out of his pocket. There aren't many people who can afford to give." Max paused. "As for converting the wealthy, Rawlins has managed to snare an impressive number of those with fat wallets. He plays golf, sails, and he's big on charitable events."
    "Which means he rubs elbows with the right people."
    Max nodded. "And his PR person makes sure Harlan's name is in the newspaper every chance he gets. His notoriety and charm are a big draw to people."
    "He's fighting for new industry in this area," Jamie said. "Not only has he donated money from his ministry, he's rallied support from other organizations."
    "His ministry appears squeaky clean," Max said. "He presents himself to the world as a happily married man with a two-year-old son he dotes on. You have to know where to look to find the real story."
    Jamie held up the papers. "Who would take the time to collect this much information on Rawlins, and why?" When Max didn't answer, she tried to guess. "The FBI, right? They've caught wind of his mob connections."
    "Could be."
    "You're not going to tell me?"
    "You haven't agreed to work with me."
    Jamie looked up. "I have a question, Max. Do you believe in miracles? Other than the fact it's a miracle we're still alive after what we've been through?"
    "That's one heck of a way to change the subject, but to answer