Shades of Temptation (13 page)

“Maybe that’s because you’re a man and it would be harder to
run you off, right?”

“Is that a snippy retort meant to remind me that I’m a
chauvinist or a hint of exactly how men tried to run you off?”

“It’s neither, Jase,” she said tiredly. “Come on. I thought we
were trying to get to know each other better, not cut each other down. If that’s
what we’re going to do, we might as well get back to work, don’t you think?”

She had a point. “Fine. You asked me why I row. For the same
feeling you felt when you got over that wall. To get past that moment when I
don’t think I can go on any longer. For that rush when I make it across the
finish line. Knowing that, despite the struggle, I was strong enough, determined
enough, to do it.”

She lapsed into silence, teasing the rim of her glass with her
finger, touching it in a soft, undulating circle that hypnotized him. She
cleared her throat and looked up at him through her lashes. “You’re certainly
strong.”

He quirked a brow at her, wondering if she was tipsy.

Then, unable to resist, he reached out and caressed the hand
she’d rested on the table. Her skin was smooth and warm, yet tempered by a
strength that was sexy as hell. “Yeah, but as you know, being good at a sport
isn’t necessarily about physical strength. It’s about knowing your body. How to
move it. How to reposition it in space. It’s about creativity, learning to adapt
and to reserve your energy for when it’s most important.” He lifted her hand and
twined their fingers together.

Her eyes seemed to heat when he brought her hand to his mouth
and kissed it. “It’s a whole body exercise. It’s about being still when you have
to. Moving when you have to. It’s about overcoming your fears of the world.”

His kissed her hand again, this time using his tongue to swipe
at the tender valley between her thumb and index finger. He felt her pulse
skitter against his fingers, making his own heartbeat skip.

* * *

W
HEN
THEY
’
D
FIRST
SAT
DOWN
for dinner,
Carrie had thought she’d simply have to endure Jase’s attempts to distract her
from her troubles. Distraction had seemed impossible given everything she was
dealing with. Death. Serial killers. A lawsuit. Her living room being
torched.

Not to mention her attraction to Jase and his growing
willingness to do something about it. Given everything else, however, she’d
assumed their sexual chemistry would fade into the background.

It hadn’t. Which simply proved how dangerous Jase was to
her.

Even with her world falling apart, he had the uncanny ability
to make her forget all the bad stuff and yearn for the simple pleasure of his
company. His touch.

As Jase kissed her hand, Carrie had the feeling they were no
longer talking about sports. His words and touch had started a throbbing in her
body. The words slipped out before she could stop them. “You’re so easygoing
most of the time. You don’t seem afraid of anything.”

Jase’s brows rose in surprise. “Everyone’s afraid of something,
Carrie. Especially me.”

He trailed his fingers up and down her arm, the strokes getting
progressively longer until he was caressing her from shoulder to wrist. His legs
tangled with hers under the table, and she felt him nudge her legs apart with
his foot.

She gasped. “What…what are you afraid of?”

He hesitated, looking at her with serious eyes that flashed
first with tenderness, then with heat. “Let’s just say I don’t like leaving
things undone. Personally or professionally.”

Was he talking about her? Maybe. But she also knew that wasn’t
all of it. He’d dropped the mask he’d donned at Kelly Sorenson’s murder scene a
little, but not completely. It had been weighing on him all day. And for some
reason, after drinking wine and talking with him tonight, she wasn’t so reticent
to ask him about it.

“So, Kelly Sorenson,” she said softly as she smoothed her
fingertips over his hand. “You and DeMarco talked to her. It would have been
troubling for you to see her today. Is that what you mean about finishing things
professionally? Things like that?”

He kept his gaze on her fingers as they trailed over his darker
skin. “Yes. Justice is one of the most important ways to finish things, don’t
you think? And the fact that I met her?” He looked up now and met her gaze with
his troubled one. “Yeah, it’s weird. She was a stranger, but she had a pretty
smile. A bold spirit. No matter what I think of the personal choices she made,
she was living her life the way she wanted to, and as far as I can tell, she
wasn’t hurting anyone. She had a right to that life.”

“Did it bother you? What Susan Ingram said? That if you’d left
McGill’s with Kelly she’d still be alive?”

“I can’t blame myself for something like that. Just because a
woman tried to pick me up in a bar doesn’t mean I had any duty to take her up on
what she was offering.”

“No. You like a challenge too much for that, don’t you?” She
didn’t mean the words to sound critical, but they did. Still, he took no
offense.

He swept his hand up to her shoulder again and then cupped her
nape. “I like
you,
” he said softly.

The simple words made her heart leap. They made her feel more
powerful, more worthy, than she’d ever imagined. Given everything she’d
accomplished in her life, it seemed silly that Jase “liking” her could matter so
much. Didn’t it?

Even as she struggled with how to respond, he massaged her neck
with a strong grip, making her eyes close in ecstasy.

“Anything else I can get for you?”

Carrie’s eyes popped open when the waitress stopped by their
table. She looked amused and didn’t wait for Jase or Carrie to say anything
before placing the bill on the table.

Jase released her neck and hand, breaking the spell he’d cast
over her. “Do you want more wine?”

She looked at the empty glass in front of her and shook her
head. He paid the bill, and they exited the restaurant. He put his hand on the
small of her back as they walked to their cars.

The street was bustling. The night air should have been cool
and comforting on her overheated skin. Instead, it acted as an unwanted jolt of
reality. Jase had indeed succeeded in distracting her from her troubles, but now
that dinner was over, she had things to do. She stopped and turned to him with a
rueful smile. “I don’t have anyplace to go, remember?” She reached for her cell
phone. “Let me call some hotels—”

Jase placed a hand on her arm and she froze. “Come on, Carrie.
Why don’t you just stay with me?”

Why? There were so many reasons, and she struggled to remember
every last one. “I already told you why.”

“I won’t push you into anything. I’m not going to touch you
unless you damn well ask me to.”

She believed him. Jase would never force himself on her. But
that wasn’t what she was afraid of. Despite her best intentions, she’d enjoyed
the past hour. She wanted more. More distraction. More time with him. What she
wanted would continue to grow if she let it.

And since she couldn’t let it, she forced herself to say,
“That’s not going to happen.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he challenged her.

She cursed her pride. It was going to make things extremely
uncomfortable for her. But she simply nodded. “Fine. I could stop by my place,
but it’d be easier just to go to the store for a few things. A toothbrush.
Toiletries. That kind of thing. Unless, of course, you have a supply at your
house for your women?”

She sounded snotty and she knew it. She also knew why—it was a
last ditch effort to protect herself. By reminding herself of Jase’s history
with women, maybe she’d be able to prevent anything from happening between them.
If nothing else, it would annoy him, right?

But instead of calling her on her obvious tactics, Jase simply
said, “We’ll stop by the store.”

* * *

J
ASE
’
S
HOUSE
LOOKED
exactly as she imagined it would.

Stylish. Orderly. Sleek modern lines. Superb taste yet utterly
masculine. Comfortable.

When he tried to guide her toward the bedroom, she balked. “If
you can just give me some sheets, I’ll set up on the sofa,” she said.

“I’m more of a gentleman than that. You’ll take my bed.”

She almost physically recoiled. She imagined all the women
who’d been in this house before her. All the time they’d spent in Jase’s arms.
“I don’t think so.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door
frame of his bedroom. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem,” she lied. Then, egged on by the knowing look in
his eyes, she said, “I’m not going to sleep in the same bed you’ve had sex in
with countless women, Jase.”

“No, you aren’t,” he readily agreed. “I’ve never had sex with a
woman in this bed.”

“Right.” She drew out the word in patent disbelief.

“I’m serious. I moved into this place four months after I
started at SIG. The job’s been a priority for me, and as far as sleepovers go, I
don’t do them. Not here. I’ve always gone to the woman’s place. Makes it easier
if I get a call and need to leave. And by the way, since we’re on the subject, I
may be a serial dater, as you called me, but it doesn’t mean I screw every woman
I date. I’m a lot more discriminating than you seem to think.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t think he was discriminating, but
there were so many women who’d be attracted to him. Women who wouldn’t be shy
about making their interest known. What man would be able to resist that kind of
attention? Especially a man who worked as hard as Jase did. He deserved his
playtime without having to be judged for it. Even so, despite his reassurances,
she knew sleeping in his bed, against the same sheets his body intimately
touched night after night, would be dangerous to her peace of mind. “Still…I’m
taking the sofa or I’m not staying.”

Straightening, he shook his head. “Fine.” He disappeared, then
returned less than a minute later with folded sheets and a blanket, which he
handed her. “You know, it wouldn’t make you any less of a cop to acknowledge
you’re a woman sometimes.”

“Meaning you only offered me your bed because I am one, right?”
She covered the sofa with the linens.

“No. I offered because you’re you, Carrie. And having you in my
bed has been a fantasy for a long time. I figured even if you were in it alone,
it would be better than nothing.”

She threw her hands up in exasperation before sitting down on
her makeshift bed. “Jase, you have to stop. Please. I have so much to deal with
right now. This case. My house being burned down. The lawsuit. I can’t deal with
you, too.”

Quietly, he sat beside her. “The woman outside McGill’s that
night. She’s the one who filed an unlawful death case against the
department.”

“Yes. But what does that—”

“You were upset that night. I mean, that’s understandable, but
why the panic attack? Can you tell me that?”

“Why? So you can report to Stevens again?”

“I won’t repeat what you tell me.”

“I’m just trying to deal with everything that’s happened. It
was bad enough before, but now, to have lost my house, my things…”

“You lost your photo albums,” he acknowledged.

The photo albums he’d looked through. The ones that had
informed him of her ridiculous middle name. They’d been important to her, but
not as important as the knowledge that he’d been curious enough about her to
look through them. Still, there had been other things she’d lost. Cards her
mother and father had written to her. Small things. Personal things that proved
she had a life outside her work.

“It’s just stuff,” Jase continued. “You’re okay. That’s all
that matters. God, when I think about what could have happened if you were at
home…”

She wasn’t surprised by his relief. If nothing else, they were
friends. She knew that. It was only when she imagined herself meaning more to
him that she doubted her own appeal. “Hey, it wouldn’t have been all bad,” she
joked, instinctively pushing away the notion that they could be more than
friends. She tried a smile. “You’d have gotten the lead on this case, after
all.”

“Don’t! Don’t even joke about something like that, Carrie. I
was a big enough wreck when you’d been shot in the leg, even after I found out
you were going to be okay. If anything worse happened to you…”

“Given our jobs, there’s always the chance something worse is
going to happen to me. To both of us.”

“I know. And that’s why I wish I didn’t care so damn much about
you, Carrie.”

He kept saying that. Kept wanting to pull her closer to him.
Why? What did he think it would accomplish? They didn’t have a future together.
His future was with the feminine, gorgeous women he dated, not a woman who
wanted so badly to fit into a man’s world. “You can’t care about me, Jase. You
don’t really know me.”

“I know enough. You fascinate me more than any woman I’ve ever
known.”

“That’s because I’m different. I don’t dress like your women. I
don’t talk like them. I probably don’t even have sex like them. I’m a cop, Jase,
that’s what I am.” Someday, that’s how he’d see her again, and then he’d realize
he wanted more.

He grabbed her arms. “Is that what you really think? That
you’re just a cop? Because you’re so much more than that, Carrie. You look
better than other women. You talk better than them. And I know damn well that if
we ever got around to having sex, you’d—” Closing his eyes, he cursed softly.
With what was obviously extreme effort, he released her and stepped back. “Look,
you’ve had a hard day. I don’t want to make it any harder for you. I need to let
you go to sleep. Unless you need anything?”

I need so much,
she thought.
I need you. But I can’t have you.