Baby at his Door. Katherine Garbera

Evan took the call in the other room.

      “What’s up, Hobbs?”

      “I ran the description of the car and the lady last night and nothing came up.”

      “Okay, we’ll look into it when I come down this afternoon.”

      Lydia passed by the doorway as Evan hung up the phone. “Lydia?”

      “Yes?” she said.

      He saw that the lights last night hadn’t fooled him, she was even more beautiful in the pure light of day. Her icy blond hair was pulled into a chignon. He knew it wasn’t a bun because his mother had explained women’s hairstyles to him when he was a boy.

      “We couldn’t find your name in the computer last night to match to the car. I’m going to need you to write down the spelling.”

      She hesitated a second before she looked away. “Okay.”

      “Is this going to be a problem?”

      Her face was transparent and her eyes, which were a deep sapphire this morning, wouldn’t meet his. She wore a stylish sundress with thin straps and a short skirt. She had knockout legs. He longed to feel them wrapped around his hips.

      Dammit, get your mind back to business. The wound on her forehead had disappeared. She had a good hand with makeup, he thought.

      “No. It’s just that well…the car isn’t registered in my name.” She was lying to him. And she wasn’t very good at it.

      “You know we can find out who you are from the vehicle identification number, right?”

      “Really?”

      He nodded.

      She moved closer to him. Her expensive perfume surrounded him, and he could think of nothing but searching her body to find out where she’d dabbed it. “Will you take my word for it that I haven’t done anything illegal and the car really is mine?”

      She had innocent eyes; he didn’t think she’d done anything illegal. There was something about the eyes of a criminal that you never forgot. “Maybe.”

      “Maybe? What would it take to make that a yes?” she asked, moving a breath closer and running her finger along his jaw.

      “More than a lick,” he said stepping away. Damn, he liked flirting with a sassy woman. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until this very moment. If he stayed in the room with her alone for a few more seconds he was going to forget his good sense and kiss her. Take those perfectly painted lips beneath his own and not come up for air until she forgot about the stories she was trying to tell him.

      “Well that’s all I’ve got to offer right now,” she said.

      “Let’s go have some breakfast and you can meet my dad. You can tell me the details of why you’re using an assumed name on the way into town.”

      He followed her down the hall to the silence of the kitchen, watching her hips sway with each step and feeling arousal tingle along his spine and groin. He wanted her, and she had to know. He’d always been transparent when he was in lust.

      He was once again in the crossfire that had cut him down before. A lying woman he wanted more than his next breath or his job. He’d chosen poorly the first time. He wouldn’t again.