Secret Star by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

work?”
    â€œYes— No. Sure.”
    â€œIt’s so exciting.” She brought the temperature of the overheated room up ten more degrees with a dazzling smile. “Detective work. You must have so many interesting stories.”
    Â 
    By the time Seth had finished the phone call he was on when he was notified of Grace’s arrival, shrugged back into the jacket he’d removed as a concession to the heat and made his way into the bull pen, Carter’s desk was completely surrounded. He heard a low, throaty female laugh rise out of the center of the crowd.
    And saw a half a dozen of his best men panting like puppies over a meaty bone.
    The woman, he decided, was going to be an enormous headache.
    â€œI see all cases have been closed this morning, and miraculously crime has come to a halt.”
    His voice had the desired effect. Several men jerked straight. Those less easily intimidated grinned as they skulked back to their desks. Deserted, Carter flushed from his neck to his receding sandy hairline. “Ah, Grace—that is, Miss Fontaine to see you, Lieutenant. Sir.”
    â€œSo I see. You finish that report, Detective?”
    â€œWorking on it.” Carter grabbed the papers he’d tossed aside and buried his nose in them.
    â€œMs. Fontaine.” Seth arched a brow, gestured toward his office.
    â€œIt was nice meeting you, Michael.” Grace trailed a finger over Carter’s shoulder as she passed.
    He’d feel the heat of that skimming touch for hours.
    â€œYou can cut the power back now,” Seth said dryly as he opened the door to his office. “You won’t need it.”
    â€œYou never know, do you?” She sauntered in, moving past him, close enough for them to brush bodies. She thought she felt him stiffen, just a little, but his eyes remained level, cool, and apparently unimpressed. Miffed, she studied his office.
    The institutional beige of the walls blended depressingly into the dingy beige of the aging linoleum floor. An overburdened department-issue desk, gray file cabinets, computer, phone and one small window didn’t add any spark to the no-nonsense room.
    â€œSo this is where the mighty rule,” she murmured. It disappointed her that she found no personal touches. No photos, no sports trophies. Nothing she could hold on to, no sign of the man behind the badge.
    As she had in the bull pen, she eased a hip onto the corner of his desk. To say she resembled a sunbeam would have been a cliché. And it would have been incorrect, Seth decided. Sunbeams were tame—warm, welcoming. She was an explosive bolt of heat lightning— Hot. Fatal.
    A blind man would have noticed those satiny legs in the snug yellow skirt. Seth merely walked around, sat, looked at her face.
    â€œYou’d be more comfortable in a chair.”
    â€œI’m fine here.” Idly she picked up a pen, twirled it. “I don’t suppose this is where you interrogate suspects.”
    â€œNo, we have a dungeon downstairs for that.”
    Under other circumstances, she would have appreciated his dust-dry tone. “Am I a suspect?”
    â€œI’ll let you know.” He angled his head. “You recover quickly, Ms. Fontaine.”
    â€œYes, I do. You had questions, Lieutenant?”
    â€œYes, I do. Sit down. In a chair.”
    Her lips moved in what was nearly a pout. A luscious come-on-and-kiss-me pout. He felt the quick, helpless pull of lust, and damned her for it. She moved, sliding off the desk, settling into a chair, taking her time crossing those killer legs.
    â€œBetter?”
    â€œWhere were you Saturday, between the hours of midnight and 3:00 a.m.?”
    So that was when it had happened, she thought, and ignored the ache in her stomach. “Aren’t you going to read me my rights?”
    â€œYou’re not charged, you don’t need a lawyer. It’s a simple question.”
    â€œI was in the country. I have a house in