Fiona Brand - O'Halloran's Lady

Maybe it had been the book he had read last night, and the steamy sex scene, which had shunted him back to the past. Maybe it was just that he was tired of being solitary and alone and his libido was doing the talking.

Whatever was to blame, like it or not, he wanted Jenna Whitmore and, to complicate matters, he was pretty certain she wanted him. He had to consider the likelihood that they would end up in bed, sooner or later.

But first, he had a killer to catch.

Electrified by the unexpected meeting with O’Halloran, and the taut awareness that seemed to have settled into her bones, Jenna drove to the gym for her usual midafternoon workout. An hour’s circuit of exercise machines and weights followed by a shower and she felt physically relaxed. Although the exercise had failed to dislodge the edgy knowledge that kept making her pulse shoot out of control: that, incredibly, despite O’Halloran’s low-key manner and cool control, he had been just as aware of her as she had been of him.

When she had finished, Jenna retrieved her bag from her locker, showered, changed and headed for her car.

As she stepped out from beneath the awning that protected the front entrance, her mind still dazedly, sappily fixed on the minutes she’d spent talking to O’Halloran, a scraping sound jerked her head up. She jumped out of the way just as a pot plant came hurtling down from the terrace of one of the apartments over the gymnasium, exploding in a shower of potting mix and terracotta shards on the sidewalk.

One of the trainers, Amanda, a sleek blonde with a lean, toned body, rushed out from the gym. She stared at the splattered remains of what had once been a pretty, trailing geranium. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jenna brushed soil off one of her shoes. “I’m fine. It missed me by a couple of feet.”

Amanda shook her head. “I don’t know how it could have fallen. I rent one of those apartments and there’s a three-foot wall running along each terrace. The only way anything could fall down was if someone was silly enough to balance a plant on top of the wall.”

Stomach tight, chills still running down her spine, Jenna stepped out from the shade into the warmth of the afternoon sunlight and peered upward. If there had been anyone on one of the several terraces directly above her, they were long gone now.

If she had been just a half second faster the pot would have hit her. “Looks like someone was silly enough.”

Amanda nudged a terracotta shard with her foot. “What a mess. I’ll have a word with Helen. She’ll make sure that whoever owns the pot plant knows what happened.” She frowned. “You look white as a sheet. You should come inside and sit down, maybe have something to drink.”

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