Her Private Treasure. Wendy Etherington

raised his eyebrows. “Stakeout? I’m just enjoying the night air.”

      With a huff that was utterly female and so unlike her, Malina leaned back against the railing next to him. “How are honesty and truth different?”

      “Honesty refers to integrity, candor. Truth is answering a question without lying.”

      She cast him a surprised glance. “That’s a despicable distinction.”

      He nodded, and the barb of criticism hit in ways she couldn’t imagine, even though he knew she’d read his case files. “It’s the law.”

      “According to whom?”

      “Anybody who’s called upon to defend themselves or someone else in court.”

      “Someone guilty?”

      The barb turned poisonous, spreading through him like cancer. “Everyone’s entitled to a defense—even the supposed guilty.”

      “Is that how you sleep at night?”

      With fury burning inside him, he faced her, crossing his arms over his chest. The fact that part of his anger stemmed from embarrassment only fueled his indignation. “Do you want to debate legal procedures? How about the merits of tort reform?” He nodded toward her holstered pistol. “As good as you might be with that, I’m better at the law, so don’t even think about screwing with me on that subject.

      “A lawyer presents his or her case. A judge or jury determines guilt or the level of judgment. That’s it. That’s the system where we all work.” He leaned into her. “If, however, you want to screw me in other ways, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

      Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. And either his honesty or his crudeness had finally shocked her into silence.

      Unable to face her or himself, he stormed across the deck and down into the cabin. He slammed the door behind him, then tore the binoculars from around his neck and flung them and himself onto the couch. Through the window above him the moon cast its haunting light.

      Several moments later, the cabin door opened.

      “I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you,” she said, flopping against the wall opposite him and crossing her arms over her chest.

      For some reason, her frustration calmed him instantly. “I’m sorry I did the same. Why are you so annoyed?”

      “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

      “Why not?”

      “The case. Concern for my job.”

      “No other reason?”

      She moved toward him. His heart jumped.

      When she stopped beside the sofa, so close their legs nearly touched, he felt the heat pumping off her, as well as a seductive scent, which could have been perfume or simply the innate lure of her skin. Both twined their way around his senses.

      “You,” she said. “I thought about you.”

      Though her tone was an accusation, he wasn’t offended. She’d thrown his world off balance. Now he knew he’d done the same for her.

      He also knew he should stand, but he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him.

      She skimmed her fingertips across his shoulder. “What’ve you done to me?”

      Part of him wanted to tell her to run. He wasn’t worthy of her time or attention. But he wasn’t capable of that kind of nobility.

      He captured her hand in his and kissed the underside of her wrist, where her pulse beat strong and thick. “In an effort to be truly honest, I should admit I was enjoying the night air and hoping you’d show up for a stakeout.”

      She slid down onto the sofa beside him. “And I knew you wouldn’t give up your involvement in this case.”

      “Are we pursuing the case because we want to solve it, or are we pursuing it to have an excuse to be together?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “Does it matter which is true?”

      “Honestly?” She smiled, leaning toward him, her lips an inch from his. “No.”

      Her tongue teased his bottom lip, then her teeth nipped the same spot. He hardened in an instant.

      With a tug of her wrist, he pulled her against him, crushing her against his chest, relishing the way her heart hammered against him, as if trying to escape and join his. Angling her head, she deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

      He breathed in the scent of clean cotton and, if he wasn’t mistaken, gun oil.

      She was a combination of tenderness and teeth that he found intriguing, stimulating and irresistible.

      His erection throbbed. His ears buzzed.

      The gentle rocking of the boat beneath them belied the electricity in the air. In the dark, shadows mingled. Hot breath and seeking hands sparked passion. Forgetting who she was and her real purpose in his life, he surrendered to the moment as he hadn’t in a very long time.

      But before he’d taken his next breath, she had her pistol drawn and her back plastered against the wall next to the cabin’s exterior door. “Get down,” she whispered.

      His hands tingled. He still had the scent of her clinging to him. “I—”

      “That buzzing in your ears isn’t my substantial powers of seduction. It’s a boat motor.”

      “How do you know my ears are buzzing?”

      “Because mine are, too. Get down.”

      He slid from the sofa onto the floor and watched her peek between the blinds on the glass door. With a great deal of effort, he could now separate the humming in his ears from the motor outside.

      She was cool, calm and in charge. He was a quivering mass of need. There was a serious balance issue with this relationship already. If there even was a relationship, which he wasn’t sure about. They’d only been introduced two days ago. Didn’t these things take time to develop? Didn’t the fact that she was in his life only to solve a case make anything meaningful impractical? And hadn’t he decided he was through with anything that didn’t have meaning?

      Then again, her ears were buzzing, too.

      Eschewing dignity, he crawled across the cabin, then rose beside Malina. “There are times when I feel like a freshman in the throes of my first crush.”

      “The throes of—” She stopped, turning her head to glare at him. “Don’t throw. Don’t crush. Be still.”

      She looked lean and sexy, her pistol raised beside her and pointing at the ceiling. Her expression was focused, her body braced. Desire tightened his stomach. “Is that thing loaded?”

      She peeked between the blinds again. “Do you ever shut up?”

      He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. “If you keep my mouth occupied in some other way.”

      She ignored the invitation and said, “I think it’s your buddy Jack.”

      “So we work now and play later?”

      “I’m always working.”

      She used the tip of her gun to move the blinds aside, and he watched over her shoulder as Jack’s boat puttered past and turned into its slip. “That’s him, right?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

      “That’s the boat.”

      She snorted. “You’re such a lawyer.”

      “Unless there’s now a rash of boat thieves running over the island intent on disrupting the general well-being of the citizenry, I assume Jack’s the pilot.”

      “Hell. A wordy lawyer.”