Page 3 of Wanted
“No, she’ll be stopping soon,” he said, trying to convince himself. Dropping the tail had been an inspiration on his part. The action had gone against the grain. She’d never believe that he’d just give up and let her go. By now, the blue sedan was a distant memory.
The description of her car, though, was currently with every police department for the next fifty miles.
“Her guard will be down. Tomorrow will be the day.”
It had to be the day.
He took another pull on the longneck. Hell. He was going to have to drink a six-pack to get rid of the hard-on he was nursing. Reaching down, he carefully adjusted himself into a more comfortable position inside his jeans.
This sucked. He was edgy, irritable, and horny as hell. For too long now, she’d been leading him around by the nose—or more aptly, by the cock. The problem was that although his brain knew that she was a fugitive from justice and it was his job to bring her in, his libido tended to forget. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her, he’d wanted her in his bed.
He could still remember that day. The FBI had intercepted disturbing information that Quadrangle Computing’s top-secret code was up for grabs on the black market. They’d had little time to act. Plans had rapidly been set in motion, and, without giving notice, they’d walked in and closed the company down.
Phone service had been stopped, doors had been blockaded, and records had been seized. Combining their intelligence with the information they gathered on-site, they’d narrowed the trail down to one suspect—a Ms. Danielle Carver.
From that point, things had moved quickly. Reno closed his eyes and, suddenly, he was back in that moment.
“Bring this Carver woman in,” he told her boss. “I want to question her.”
The manager threw him a nervous look but picked up the phone. When a blonde head popped up over the cubicle wall, Reno didn’t pay much attention. As the woman started moving in the direction of the office, though, he began to watch more closely. When she finally came into full view, his entire body went on red alert.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. He’d been suspecting somebody… geekier.
The short, balding man smiled knowingly. “Her IQ is probably twice yours,” he replied smugly.
Reno’s eyes narrowed. “That should be illegal.”
Just watching the way she walked made his mouth water. She had a smooth, effortless gait that swiveled her hips in a manner that wasn’t overtly sexual, but packed a punch nonetheless. When she entered the room, her understated perfume traveled across the air, and he broke out in a cold sweat.
He didn’t like his reaction. He didn’t like it one bit. The crimes he suspected her of committing were serious. The code she was writing was for the Air Force’s newest fighter planes. If she planned to sell it, she was willing to jeopardize American lives.
He didn’t care how hot she was, the entire idea left him cold.
“Ms. Carver,” he said icily. “Please take a seat.”
“What’s this about?” she asked.
She settled into the chair in front of the desk and looked at him uneasily. Caught in the stare of those clear, startlingly blue eyes, he forgot what he’d been about to say.
All he could do was look at her.
She was beautiful, with delicate features, big eyes, and pink lips. Her hair was pulled up into one of those plastic clips. Some of the ends had slipped loose, and the mussed look made him ache.
He wanted to see her hair down. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to fist his hands in it as he kissed her blind.
“Damn,” Reno said. He shifted restlessly on the bed as the vivid memory overtook him. Thinking of her like this wasn’t helping his uncomfortable condition at all. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from remembering the most important part of that picture.
The sweater.
She’d been dressed casually, like everyone else in the tech office, wearing close-fitting jeans and a soft blue sweater. It had clung to her curves, and when she’d sat, her jeans had dipped slightly to show a thin strip of bare skin beneath the hem. He’d gotten so distracted looking at her tight, smooth skin that he’d forgotten the questions he had for her.
That had been the birth of the divining rod, come to think of it.
The memory still made his jaw clench. She’d scrambled his thoughts and sent his body haywire. It had put him completely off his game at a time when he should have been laser-focused.
With a curse, he sprang off the bed and began to pace around the room. If he hadn’t let himself be so affected that day, he wouldn’t be in this situation right now. He still blamed himself for her escape. He’d gone soft on her. There was no other excuse for it.
Once his frazzled brain had finally kicked into gear, he’d begun to ask her questions.Pointed, delvingquestions. He hadn’t completely lost his mind. Yet her face had taken on an unmistakable green tinge as she’d slowly comprehended what was happening. When she’d clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed to the restroom, he’d let her go.
