Tall, Dark and Lethal by Dana Marton Read Free Book Online Page A

a marvel of biology, no mistake about it.
    He brushed his lips over hers—full, sweet, soft—and swallowed a moan that began to bubble up inside his chest. No sense getting too worked up with a cop heading their way.
    “It might help if you look like you’re into this,” he whispered against her mouth.
    She relaxed marginally in his arms.
    The cop was only a few feet from them and still coming.
    Cade opened his mouth over hers. He was going to make this kiss look real—that was his last coherent thought.
    Their lips were doing all the touching, but it was his groin that got all the heat. Funny how that worked. He had expected pleasure—she was a fine-looking woman with a body that would have made any healthy man sit up and take notice. But he hadn’t expected his breath to get caught in the middle of his chest. That didn’t usually happen.
    He went on a pilgrimage across her lower lip first, then the top. He tasted her, licked at the seam of her lips, kissed the corners of her mouth. Amazing how much more attractive that mouth was when she wasn’t using it to yell at him, when he could feel its velvety softness against his own. He nuzzled her cheek, kissing her again and again.
    His hand tightened on her waist, then slipped lower, one slow inch at a time. His mind was turning into mush—an interesting contrast to the definite hardening that was going on below. And she still hadn’t responded yet.
    He reluctantly pulled away.
    And he realized that the cop had not only passed by them but had gone into the station without him noticing. Not good.
    She looked a little off balance, but not overwhelmed with pleasure and driving need. And even the off-balance thing could have been because of the cop.
    That didn’t sit well with his self-esteem.
    “Okay. Let’s go while we can,” she said.
    Okay?
    He badly wanted a rematch. A chance to prove to her that she wasn’t as immune to him as she thought, to kiss her until she begged for what he’d been about ready to beg for a moment ago. But he recognized the notion for what it was—a huge distraction from their mission and a danger to his concentration. Which meant that for the duration, he would not—could not—kiss or touch Bailey Preston again.
     
    H E WAS CRAZY . J UST absolutely certifiable. Bailey stepped back, not daring to look at him.
    He was also sexy, with a body to die for and lips that had mesmerized her without half trying. He’d made her head spin, but she was too far gone with nerves to respond to him. Thank God for small mercies. She took another step away from him, needing to put some space between them before the shock wore off and her knees gave way.
    He was looking at her funny. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, we better get out of here.” Taking her hand, he headed toward the lake.
    She didn’t pull away, even if the thought of spending time in that small shack with him seriously scared her. Now more than ever. Even if she was inclined to believe what he had said about the DHS. He’d clearly had some sort of training. She’d nearly asked if he had any sort of ID to back up his claim and then remembered the stack of fake IDs she’d seen in his bag. Even if he had something with DHS on it, it wouldn’t mean a thing.
    “You said you used to work for the DHS?”
    “Retired.”
    He didn’t look old enough to be retired. He was pretty much the most virile man she’d ever known. Her doubts must have shown on her face.
    “Due to injury,” he said.
    And she remembered the scars she’d seen on his back when he’d mowed the lawn sans T-shirt. She’d asked the first time she’d seen them. “Motorcycle accident,” he had said. Slid on his back, road scraped off his skin. No big deal.
    Uh-huh. Tell me another one.
    He held her gaze with those caramel eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes, as if whether she believed him or not mattered.
    And the weird thing was, she did. Because deep down, she couldn’t believe that he was an evil man.