Expert Witness: A Romantic Suspense Novel (10 page)

“Stop! I can’t take it anymore!” she said, holding a hand up and feigning anguish. “I think I’ll starve before we get dinner done.” She adjusted the temperature beneath the pot.

“Oh. You’ll survive,” he said playfully.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she asked, sounding indignant while trying to keep a straight face.
 

“Only that you had lunch about six hours ago. I think you may live,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But what are we making anyway?” he asked, watching her combine finely chopped mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes with cream cheese, spinach, and cooked pasta into a pot.

“Tortellini primavera and grilled chicken. Though, it’s clear from what you’ve told me, this is not the type of gourmet fare you’re used to being served while on assignment.” She grinned at him as she stirred the ingredients together. “Do you think you’ll be able to get by?”

“Well, it smells awesome. But if you insist I provide you with a verdict now, I’ll have to give it a good ol’ American try,” he said, reaching a spoon into the mixture.

“You can’t. It’s still not done!” she said much too slowly.
 

Chase was licking his spoon by the time she got the words out. “Delicious,” he said after swallowing the last bit.
 

“It probably isn’t even heated yet,” she admonished, though she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
 

“Then it’ll only get better,” he said in mock seriousness. “Actually, I think I need to try it one more time.”

He started to grab another spoon, and she lightly pushed his hand away. “Oh, no you don’t. If you’re going to offer a verdict, I’m going to make sure it’s not raw.”
 

He propped himself up against the kitchen counter and folded his arms in front of him. With the shift, he was now only a couple of inches away from where she stood. “Wait a second, you can’t change the rules in the middle of judging.”

Her heart picked up as she tried unsuccessfully to ignore the effects of his nearness. “That was the judging for the ‘before’ round. You’ll have to wait for the ‘after’ round to judge again.” She pointed her mixing spoon at him. “Which begins
after
everything is actually cooked.”
 

A chuckle escaped as she took in his expression, which now closely resembled a child who’d dropped his ice cream cone. She liked this side of him. His humor and roguish grin made him even more appealing though. Add that to the fact that he seemed to have lowered the guard he’d erected earlier, and he was much less like a paid protection agent and more like a friend she was hanging out with. Albeit an incredibly sexy friend who had a penchant for undercooked pasta and an uncanny ability to raise her blood pressure with his mere presence.
 

“So many rules to remember.” The end of his mouth quirked slightly as he reached past her to put the spoon in the sink.
 
His forearm brushed lightly across her stomach. The touch launched tingles that raced through her body. Her eyes jerked up to witness his reaction. She tried to decipher if he’d felt anything similar. But he’d begun scrubbing a dried patch of tomato seeds from the countertop, so absorbed in the task that he didn’t seem to notice the contact. She let out a long, silent breath. His touch had made tingles run down her spine, but he was totally unaffected by hers.
 

Just my luck
.
I had no interest in anyone until this moment, and I find someone who has no interest in me.

“I feel much better now,” Jordan declared, sitting back in her chair. She’d polished off the last bite of pasta from her plate. She looked over to find Chase working on his second helping. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who was hungry,” she commented.

“I don’t know if it’s hunger or the fact that it tastes so good. I couldn’t stop at one serving. My compliments to the chef.”

“And the sous chef,” she added with a meaningful look his way.
 

She was glad the uncomfortable moment at the sink had passed. Dinner had initially been quiet, and she could sense that Chase had withdrawn again. She prayed it wasn’t because he’d noticed her response to their brief contact. She didn’t see how, since he’d been absorbed in cleaning the counter, but what else could it have been?

She looked at him intently, trying unsuccessfully to read into his thoughts. He had an unfair advantage. While she had trouble finding the motivation to mask her emotions in situations like this, he had no comparable difficulty disguising his. Her train of thought was distracted by a pair of green eyes looking back at her. Too late, she realized she’d been caught once again unabashedly staring at him.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was lost in thought.”
 

“Care to share them?”
 

Absolutely not
. Instead, she replied, “It was nothing important. I think I’m just getting sleepy.”

“No Friday night plans?”
 

“Not tonight. Truthfully, I don’t stay up very late. Even on weekends. I guess I’m more of a morning person. I usually go jogging first thing on Saturdays.”

“Sounds good to me. I have some bookkeeping to do tonight, and that’ll keep me plenty busy. Another one of the not-so-fun parts of the business.”

“Yeah, that one I can relate to,” Jordan said as she began to clear away their dishes.
 

Chase tried to help, but she insisted she had it covered. He took a seat in the living room and removed his laptop from its case. The subtle glow from the screen illuminated his features: the hard line of his jaw as he studied a spreadsheet, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to expose a smattering of dark hair at the top of his well-defined chest.
 

Realizing what she was doing, she stopped herself.
It’s a working relationship, not a date
. Although the statement made sense on a logical level, she knew enough about underlying thought processes to know that emotions weren’t always rational.

She finished loading the dishwasher and turned toward him. “I’m turning in. I’ll see you in the morning.”
 

He looked up from the screen. “Night. Oh, and Jordan?”

“Hmm?”
 

“I should be awake, but if I’m not, make sure to get me before you go running in the morning.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I’d take off without you? Kind of defeats the whole purpose of you being here, right?” She wouldn’t pretend for a second that she liked relinquishing so much of her independence, but she wasn’t naïve to the fact that someone wanted her killed and the job wasn’t complete.
 

He wiped a hand across his mouth. “Okay, so I take it that was a completely unnecessary request. But you’d be surprised by how many times I’ve been ditched at inopportune times. Good to know you aren’t going to add any to the list.”
 

“No worries there,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m much too reasonable to throw away my protection detail on a whim.” She paused, thinking more about his revelation. “No, I’m definitely not the girl in the horror film who makes you bite your fingernails off because she insists on going down the dark staircase to check it out herself. That drives me nuts. So rest easy on that one.”

Chase appeared bemused by her confession. “Sometimes, I forget what you do until you make comments like that. Takes the old aphorism ‘know thyself’ to a whole new level.”

“Yeah, well, wait till you hang out with all four of us psychologists at the same time. Conversations are interesting to say the least.”
 

She left it at that. Increased self-awareness was kind of a rite of passage in her field. Probably at least partially related to the host of personality tests they took before they were taught to administer them. Whatever the cause, she didn’t think it was a bad thing. Most of the time, anyway.
 

She was half asleep by the time she got to her bed.
If nothing else, at least I can sleep in peace with him here
. But as she laid her head down on her pillow, her thoughts drifted back to him. She let herself wonder for a moment what would have happened if his arm across her stomach tonight had led to more intimate contact. If instead of going on like nothing had happened, he’d snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. Her pulse quickened as she imagined being encircled in his hold, pressed up against the solid planes of his chest… The sound of her kitchen cabinet shutting echoed into her room. She let out a groan and pulled the pillow over her head.
I’m pathetic,
she thought wryly.
I’ve reduced myself to having stolen thoughts about my bodyguard. I definitely need to get out more when all of this is over.
 

CHAPTER SIX

Chase was up early. After lying awake for hours, he’d finally decided he might as well get out of bed and try to do something useful. He’d powered up his laptop, but thoughts of Jordan kept intruding on his efforts to finish the work on his books. He’d felt like a jerk yesterday when she’d walked in on his conversation with Mike at the office. He could tell he’d inadvertently hurt her.
 

He ran a hand through his already-disheveled morning hair. It wouldn’t surprise him if his hair began to grow in rows commensurate with his finger widths, he found himself raking through it so much lately. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy talking to her—it was more that he tried to reveal as little about himself as possible while on the job. Disclosing too much led to becoming personally involved, something he was determined not to do.
 

What was worse, Chase knew Mike hadn’t missed the interplay between them. He was sure he’d hear about it next week. Mike had stipulated that Jordan was hands-off when he’d contacted him. He wanted her safe from her assailant but with her heart left intact.
 

Chase had laughed at his friend’s nerve and immediately assured him he didn’t get involved with the clients he protected. And nothing would alter that. He’d meant it then, and his feelings on the matter hadn’t changed. He wouldn’t jeopardize her safety.
 

He could hear Jordan moving around in the living room, so he shut his laptop down and headed out there. He’d gotten dressed in his workout clothes when he’d woken up so he’d be ready to go when she was.
 

When he walked in, Jordan was pulling on her running shoes. He took in a sharp breath as he laid eyes on her. He’d grown accustomed to seeing her in conservative clothing that only hinted of her svelte form beneath the layers. Her choice of garments usually left his quite-willing imagination to fill in the curves of her figure. But as she stood in front of him now, wearing spandex shorts and a tank top, he realized his imagination hadn’t done her justice.
 

Holy hell. She had a body straight out of a fitness magazine. Her arms were cut with well-defined triceps and biceps, and her long legs were shapely and toned. Yet, despite her powerful physique, she possessed an hourglass figure that was utterly feminine. The swell of her chest and gentle outward curves of her hips were all woman. A perfect blend of softness and hardness.
 

“Lord have mercy,” he mumbled to himself. If he didn’t know Jordan better, he’d have thought she was testing his resolve to keep their relationship strictly professional. But from what he did know, he was convinced she had no idea how she was affecting him. Nevertheless, that was what he was—affected. And not at all pleased by the fact.
 

 
“Morning,” she said, oblivious to the reaction her attire had elicited. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to get outside. It’s been too long for me. Are you ready?” she asked, her sentences rushed together in her excitement. Her dark hair was fastened into a secure ponytail that bobbed around as she stretched from one leg to the other.
 

“Ready when you are,” he said with a scowl.
 

He’d thought it had been bad last night when he’d lost himself in the process of scrubbing a counter so he could gather his composure. Composure he’d lost over the briefest of contact with her. The touch had been totally unintentional, but his body hadn’t cared. And a new day hadn’t changed much in that regard.
 

“Not a morning person, huh?” she replied, noticing his glower. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m fine,” he said more neutrally as he headed for the door. He was trying not to be unreasonable. It wasn’t Jordan’s fault her mere presence threatened his long-term resolve.

They jogged side by side through the streets surrounding her house. It was a beautiful fall day, and the view through her neighborhood was gorgeous. The sun was reflecting off the lake, and the air was still crisp. In Central Florida, it was almost impossible to jog during the day because the temperatures were stifling. That left mornings or nights for running, and despite the misimpression he’d given Jordan, he most definitely preferred getting out early.
 

“Have you always been a runner?” she asked, breaking the companionable silence.

“I’ve enjoyed running since high school. I started training in martial arts, and the sensei was big on physical conditioning. I never really minded though.”

“What type of martial arts?”

He could tell from the expectant expression she gave him that she was genuinely interested. “Shorin-Ryu. It’s an Okinawan martial arts form. One of the older styles of karate.”