In Close Quarters. Candace Irvin

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СКАЧАТЬ called Reese today.”

      The drawer slammed shut.

      She continued to stand with her back to him for a moment, then slowly turned around. “Yes, I did. I called Reese.”

      He shrugged. “You got me.”

      “I don’t want you.”

      If she thought it took one of her neurosurgical colleagues to figure this out, she was mistaken. “This I know. But me you have. Why did you call?”

      “You know, I don’t believe it’s any of your business.”

      If it involved what he thought it did, it was very much his business. It was also his case. But there was no way he could tell her this. At least, not until he was certain.

      He sighed. “Cariño—”

      She held up a hand. “You can stop right there, Agent Vásquez. First of all, I told you months ago, my name is Karin, just Karin. Not carino—or however you keep pronouncing it. Second of all, my phone call had nothing to do with you or your agency. I just told you—I called to talk to Reese, not you. As you damn well know, Reese is married to my best friend. I needed to discuss something with him. Something personal. If your boss is so straitlaced you guys can’t even receive a brief personal call on the job, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Reese when they return.”

      “Are you finished?”

      Pink washed the tops of her ears. “Yes.”

      “Good. Now, I am aware of the fact that you called to speak to Reese and not to me.” Painfully aware. “But you also left a message. A message that said…” He made a show of searching the pockets of his leather jacket for the yellow slip Joaquín had handed him before he had torn out of the office. “Here it is.” He did not need to read the words, but did so, anyway. “Dr. Karin Scott called. It’s business.”

      “I know—personal business.” She raked her fingers through her curls. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

      “Until you tell the truth.”

      She stiffened. “Just where the hell do you get off showing up at my apartment, giving me the third degree about a personal call and accusing me—”

      The rest of her words were severed as he rounded the counter and reached out to touch the tip of her ear. It was tinged with pink for the third time that night.

      She swallowed.

      Evidently he had made his point.

      Several moments passed before she honored it. “Okay, I’ve been busted. What are you going to do about it? Cuff me and drag me down to the nearest station?”

      Oh, he would like to.

      But if he ever got a set of cuffs on this woman, jail was the last place he would be taking her. He slipped his finger down, tracing the outer curve of her ear until he reached the tiny lobe. He dipped his finger beneath her jaw, reining in his thudding heart as her eyes widened. What he would have given for the flaring in these dark pupils to have been caused by passion. For him.

      But it was not passion, nor even desire.

      It was fear.

      He forced his attention back to the reason he was here. Why had she called Reese? He tipped up her chin. “Are you in trouble?”

      She tried to look away, but he refused to let her. He moved his head until he had again captured her stormy gaze.

      “Cariño, you must tell me. I can help.”

      She closed her eyes.

      The action pained him more than he cared to admit.

      Reese, she trusted. Him, she did not.

      “Please.” His voice was low, hoarse, but he did not care.

      “Don’t. You can’t help. No one can, not even Reese.” She sighed and finally opened her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him. Dr. Manning was right.”

      He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “This thing which troubles you, this Dr. Manning knows it?”

      “God, no. At least, not yet.” Again the pink found her ears. Though for some reason, he felt the cause was not the same. But before he could question her, she stepped back. “Oh, hell, you’re already here. And I don’t think you’re going to give up.” There was a wealth of hope in those rising brows. “Are you?”

      He shook his head firmly. Not when she was this upset.

      She sighed again. “I thought not. Well, you’d better have a seat, then. It’s a long story.” She tilted her head toward the teapot sitting on the stove. “I’d offer you some, but…” Her gaze swept his clothes. “You don’t look the tea type. Coffee?”

      He nodded. “Gracias.”

      “Cream? Sugar?”

      “Black.”

      A ghost of a smile curved her lips, dipping her dimples as her gaze traveled his dark length again, this time leisurely. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

      She was teasing him. Karin Scott was teasing him. The realization ricocheted off his brain and headed straight for his heart, snapping a grin back up his throat before he could prevent it. Jade, she teased. Reese, as well. She had even teased Reese’s mother within minutes of meeting her—this he knew, for he had been there. But Karin had never, ever, teased him.

      Until now.

      He sobered.

      She was upset indeed if she could not remember she disliked him. But at least she would trust him. For now, he would settle for this.

      Relief washed through him as he stepped around the counter to give her room to work. On the ride to her apartment, he had not been certain he could convince her to confide in him. If she had refused, there was naught he could do to force her.

      Even with his suspicions.

      He would have been left with little option but to call Reese once his plane had landed and ask him to phone Karin back—from his belated honeymoon. Not his first choice.

      TJ crossed the carpet and stared at the couch and matching chairs. Though they appeared comfortable enough, he was reluctant to sit. They were so white. Admittedly he was not one for decorating. But even he could see the room needed color—any color. Desperately.

      And what was that odor?

      It was faint, so faint he could not quite place it. In fact, he had not even noticed it until Karin had taken her whisper of vanilla back into the kitchen with her. He glanced across the room as a grating whir cut through the air.

      Beans?

      She did not cook, but she ground her own coffee beans?

      TJ bit back a low whistle. He turned to face the wall unit and stared СКАЧАТЬ