Temperature's Rising (19 page)

His cell phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“We have someone following her, but so far it looks like she’s just delivering packages. Everything appears to be on the up and up. We’re doing a background check just in case.”

Something was up . . . besides him, he thought with more than a little sarcasm. He’d stake his career on it. The woman had looked too damn suspicious.

He spoke with the chief for a few minutes, then flipped his cell closed before turning back to Jessica. The phone conversation with Jessica’s father had effectively drained his desire. Funny how talking to a woman’s father could do that to a person.

“Right now everything appears legit. We’ll know more after they run a history on her, but if she does work for UPS, it’s doubtful they’ll find anything. Since no one has stolen a UPS truck recently, she’s more than likely employed by the company. Maybe she’s decided she wants a little extra cash.”

She nodded. “Okay, so what do we do now?” She began to pace the small entryway.

He smiled inwardly, thinking of a lot of things they could do. Like having hot, sweaty sex on a heart-shaped bed. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that being a cop could be damned difficult at times.

“We go back to the window and watch.”

“Oh.” Her face fell.

Damn, she was cute. And sexy. And definitely a temptation.

* * *

162

Karen Kelley

Night had fallen hours ago. Jessica had gone upstairs and Conor was taking first watch, but the house next door wasn’t on his mind as much as Jessica was right now.

He rearranged himself in the wingback chair, adjusted the pillow beneath his head, fixed the blanket in his lap, checked to make sure his cell and the camera were on the table, and tried to concentrate on his job.

Not an easy task. The movement upstairs was drawing all his attention. Everyday sounds to most married couples, but he wasn’t married . . . Jessica wasn’t his wife.

If he were married to her, he’d be upstairs right now rather than sitting in one of the hardest chairs known to man. He closed his eyes for a moment and could see himself sitting on the bed, waiting for her to emerge from the bathroom.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. She’d step from the bathroom completely naked. Her skin would glisten with the oil she’d applied. Her breasts would be full, her nipples tight little nubs begging for his mouth to cover them.

The thatch of dark hair between her legs would cover her sex, tempting him to look closer, to see what secrets lay behind the curls.

Son of a bitch! She was doing it to him again. He shifted in his chair, tugging at the front of his jeans to make more room for what was becoming a constant ache, a constant hard-on. When the surveillance was over he wasn’t going to miss Jessica and the torture she was putting him through one little bit. He would be glad to see an end to all this.

Yeah, right.

He ran a hand through his hair. How the hell had he let her get under his skin so quickly? All this would eventually end. A relationship wouldn’t work between them.

She’d told him that she didn’t want to get involved with a cop.

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Damned if he didn’t want to convince her otherwise.

He had the time. It didn’t look like the case was going to be solved any time soon. The chief had called him with the UPS worker’s background and she’d checked out. No criminal history of any kind.

Still, he’d swear it wasn’t a routine delivery. She’d had all the signs of being nervous: looking around furtively, hugging the package close to her body, short, quick steps. No, there was more going on. At least they had her picture on file now.

So far, the UPS worker was their only real lead. Not that he’d crossed the mayor off his list. He’d gone to a po-litical rally once and heard him talk. The man had charm.

Hell, he’d even kissed a couple of babies.

The guy gave him the creeps. But like the chief said, other than a few suspect contracts, the mayor was clean.

Conor knew the chief hadn’t ruled out the mayor, though.

There was also the possibility the person calling the shots was someone not on their list. But how were they getting their information? There were a couple of times when the burglars had come close to being caught, but the culprits were warned . . . or just got lucky.

Ring. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Jessica, open up. Jessica are you awake?” Trudy cried.

“Son of a bitch.” Conor jumped to his feet, grabbing the falling blanket and scooping up his pillow. He hurried to the hall closet.

“What’s Trudy doing here?” Jessica whispered frantically as she flew down the stairs.

Conor shoved the pillow and blanket inside the closet, slammed the door, and wheeled around. His breath caught in his throat when he took a good look at Jessica as she skidded to a stop beside him.

Forget trying to talk. Hell, he could barely breathe.

The flimsy blue gown was a far cry from that damned 164

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bunny suit. Wispy satin outlined every curve and hollow.

The lace-trimmed neckline dipped low, accentuating full breasts. He could only stare at the vision clinging to his arm.

“Conor, didn’t you hear me?”

Mentally shaking himself, he tried to keep his mind on what was happening around him and not what stood so temptingly beside him. He tried to tell himself he was on the job, but the mental warning didn’t quite reach his brain. Right at this moment, his thoughts weren’t focused on putting criminals behind bars.

She frowned. “Quit staring. Surely you’ve seen a woman in her nightgown before.”

“A few,” he admitted. “I like what you have on now a lot better than that other thing you wore.”

“I . . . uh . . .” She tugged at the material.

He enjoyed seeing her flustered. Made him wonder if she was immune to him after all. He’d begun to think he’d imagined the signals she sent out. Even if Jessica didn’t realize it, she wasn’t unaffected by his presence.

He liked that thought. He probably shouldn’t. She was an obstinate, opinionated female, and she didn’t want to get involved with a cop, and he wouldn’t give up law enforcement—an impossible relationship.

Another explosion of noise erupted.
Ring. Ring.

Knock! Knock!

“Are you awake in there?”

Jessica turned the lock and opened the door a crack.

“Trudy, is everything okay?”

Conor hoped Trudy talked a long time. Jessica was using the door to shield her body from any curious neighbors. The way she’d angled herself, her short gown rode up in the back. A lot. The sweet cheeks of her ass were rather delectable. Leaning against the doorjamb, he admired the view, which got better and better.

Trudy slammed her way inside.

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Jessica hopped to the left.

Conor caught the door before it banged him in the face.

“Oh, Jessica,” Trudy blubbered into a tissue, stopping just short of bumping into the banister. “George doesn’t love me anymore.”

Jessica turned pleading eyes toward him.

He shrugged. What was
he
supposed to do? Shoot George? He’d like to catch him with the stolen goods before he resorted to violence.

After sending him a men-are-good-for-nothing look, Jessica put her arm around Trudy’s shoulders and guided her into the living room. “Now, now, I’m sure you can both work out any misunderstanding you’ve had.”

“No! It’s over. He accused me of flirting with the salesman at the jewelry store. It was only a little harmless teasing, but George blew up. And he refused to buy me the bracelet,” she finished on a loud wail.

Conor wondered what she was more upset over, the loss of George, or the bracelet?

“Please, can I stay? Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch. And I promise I won’t be a bit of trouble. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Stay here? Downstairs? The couch? His hormones raged, causing his brain to malfunction. This was going to be his lucky night! He wanted to kiss Trudy . . . on second thought, he didn’t think he would go that far.

Damn, what was he thinking?

He reined in all the testosterone flowing through him before he went berserk. He was on duty.

But Trudy couldn’t know that. What would any normal husband do for a neighbor’s wife who had nowhere to go?

“Of course you can stay,” Conor told her. He hurried to Trudy’s side and patted her on the back. “We can’t have you sleeping on the sidewalk, now can we?” He glanced 166

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up and met Jessica’s glare. His eyebrows rose. “Can we, dear?”

Play the game, Jessica.
One wrong move and Trudy would suspect something wasn’t quite right between him and Jessica.

“Of course not,” she responded between gritted teeth.

Okay, that was better than nothing. A sudden, malicious gleam entered Jessica’s eyes. He backed up a step.

What was she plotting?

“But I’m sure Conor won’t mind sleeping on the sofa.

You can sleep in our bed with me.” She smiled tri-umphantly.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t hear of any such thing. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

Conor breathed a sigh of relief. The sofa was at least a foot shorter than his frame.

And there was only one bed upstairs. His mouth went dry as once again erotic thoughts swept him away—

right into a fantasy of Jessica’s hot little body pressed tightly against his.

On duty! On duty! On duty!

“But . . .” Jessica began.

Trudy shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right. You two go back to bed, and I’ll be fine. And come first light, I’m going home to Momma.” She sniffed loudly.

Jessica looked ready to blow their cover. He couldn’t let that happen. “Don’t we keep an extra pillow and blanket in the closet, sweet pea?” He rushed over and pulled them out. “Here they are.”

His smile faded when he turned around. Jessica’s eyes had narrowed to mere slits. Was it his fault Trudy had decided to come over, dragging her problems with her?

“Now go on, you two,” Trudy said, taking the blanket and pillow. “Just pretend I’m not even here.” Bringing the tissue to her nose, she blew loud enough so the windows rattled. Okay, Conor conceded, the wind TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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might have picked up just a little at the precise moment she snorted into the Kleenex.

“Maybe I should stay here with you.” Jessica took a step toward Trudy.

Conor grabbed Jessica’s hand. He didn’t want any un-necessary interaction between Trudy and Jessica. She just wasn’t experienced enough. “I think she wants to be alone.”

“You don’t know that.” She squeezed his hand.

The woman had a grip! His little finger was slowly being crushed. He yanked. Jessica stumbled into his arms.

“See, dear?” He smiled down into Jessica’s furious eyes. “You’re so tired you can’t even stand. I’m sure Trudy understands.”

“He’s right. Y’all don’t pay me no mind. I’ll be okay.” She tossed the pillow and blanket on the sofa.

“Let’s go to bed, hon.”

Conor slid his arm around Jessica in what he was sure would be construed as a husbandly gesture. Her shoulders stiffened. No,
stiff
was a mild word. Her shoulders felt as tight as a rusty gun barrel. Maybe insisting Trudy stay hadn’t been a good idea, after all. Then again, the alternative would’ve been to kick her out.

Jessica jerked away and stomped up the stairs.

He followed. Even in anger, Jessica’s hips moved seductively, the blue satin brushing across the back of her upper legs. He tugged at his jeans. Her shoulders weren’t the only thing stiff.

At the door of the bedroom, Jessica spun around. He stopped right before he plowed into her. She glared at him. With that look, she should’ve stayed a cop. Freeze criminals right in their tracks. Sure did a lot to ease the ache in his lower regions.

She stepped across the threshold without another glance in his direction. Hesitantly, he slipped in behind 168

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her. As soon as the door closed, he realized his phone was downstairs. He had no connection with the chief. He strode to the window. Damn it, he couldn’t see the suspects’ house from this angle.

He ran a hand through his hair. What were the odds that anything would happen with Trudy in the house?

What choice did he have? The idea of going downstairs to retrieve his phone didn’t appeal to him. The way Trudy looked at him made him more than a little nervous.

One look at Jessica’s expression and he was tempted to go back downstairs and insist Trudy sleep in here and he’d take the sofa. Jessica didn’t look at all pleased with the turn of events.

But then, he knew the signals were there. She wanted him. Was that what worried her about them staying in the same room? Was she afraid something would happen?

He’d give anything to know exactly what she was thinking.

Anger slowly coursed through Jessica. She wanted to kill him. A hundred different ways came to mind.

Conor had manipulated the situation, and she didn’t like being coerced into doing anything. How could she have been such a fool? And to think she’d been harboring romantic thoughts about the man.

Oh, he’d pulled out all the stops tonight. Maneuvered his way upstairs and into her bed. Okay, technically it was his bed, but he’d destroyed her air mattress! And it damn well wasn’t fair.

Going to the closet, she reached up and yanked down extra pillows, flinging one at him. He caught it in one smooth motion like there hadn’t been a bit of force behind her throw. That irritated her even more. The least he could’ve done was stumble backward a step. Instead, he frowned at her like she was the one in the wrong.

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door? That would’ve looked real good. Don’t forget the reason we’re here, Jessica.”

That didn’t make the situation any less difficult. Or her any less angry. She didn’t want him in her bed. She wanted him on the sofa. Where it would be safe.

Safe for whom
?

The thought scurried through her mind. She could easily get used to him snuggled in bed next to her. The full length of her body pressed against his. Her hands exploring his chest, his back, his . . . she swallowed. A flash of heat stole over her. And him a cop. Someone she’d sworn to keep at arm’s length. Someone she
would
keep at arm’s length.