Kim Harrison - Hotter Than Hell

Ethan reappeared by my side, his long strides curtailed to match my shorter ones.

“Why?” he said. I was still so attuned to him his voice seemed to flow over my skin as sensually as a warm summer breeze. “The attraction between us is getting stronger, and you can’t keep denying it exists.”

I could, and I would. For as long as we had to work together, and maybe even after that. “There has to be hundreds of women working in this building. Why don’t you go try your luck with the half you haven’t sampled?”

Something flashed in his eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like annoyance. “Because I’m attracted to you, not them.”

Attracted to the challenge more than the person, I suspected. “Yeah, well, I have no intention of becoming another notch on your bedpost.” As much as my hormones danced excitedly at the very idea.

“What if I promise to make that notch worthwhile?”

His grin was pure cheek, and I couldn’t help responding in kind. The man might be a dangerous rogue, but he was undoubtedly a sexy one. “Not even then.”

He stopped to open Frank’s door then ushered me through, his fingers searing my spine though his touch was feather light.

“The more you challenge me, the more determined I get,” he murmured.

His words sent another tremor racing across my skin. Lord, if what he was doing now wasn’t determination, what was? And how was I going to survive it?

Janet, Frank’s secretary, glanced up as we both walked in. “Go straight through,” she said, her gaze lingering appreciably on Ethan.

“Thanks, Janet,” he said, voice so intimate the older woman blushed.

I shook my head, and continued on through the second door. Like most werewolves, the man just couldn’t help flirting—and that was part of the problem. If I’d had any reason to believe he was after anything more serious than a quick roll in the sack, then maybe I’d reconsider—

I scratched the rest of that thought from my mind as Frank, our semi-bald boss, glanced up.

“Sit down,” he said.

“What’s the problem?” I crossed my legs so that my feet pointed away from Ethan. Even an accidental touch could be deadly given the aroused state he’d so easily worked me into.

“We’ve got a couple of missing kids I want you to look for.”

“When and where?” Ethan asked, voice becoming cool and businesslike.

Something inside me relaxed. This Ethan I could handle. It was the flirty, oh-so-sexy version of his personality that got me all flustered and out-of-sorts.

“The first was three nights ago.” Frank shoved several files across the desk. Ethan leaned forward and picked one up, quickly scanning it before handing it across to me.

I was careful not to touch his fingers and amusement flared briefly across his lush lips. The basic details were all there—name, location, and the particulars of where and how he’d gone missing.

I looked up. “Were there any threats? Ransom demands? Anything to suggest this was a standard crime?”

Frank shook his head. “The kid disappeared from his bedroom in the middle of the night. No evidence of a break-in, and all the doors and windows were still locked in the morning.”

“From the inside?”

He flicked a glance my way. “Yeah.”

Meaning someone had a key. Ghosts might be able to get past locked doors and windows, but humans—large or small—couldn’t.

“Why were we called in?” Ethan asked. “The official investigation would still be underway. We usually don’t get pulled in until after the dust has settled.”

“A second teenager went missing last night under the same circumstances.” Frank pushed the other file closer. “That teenager is my nephew.”

“Ah.” Ethan’s voice was neutral, and yet as attuned as I currently was to the man, I sensed his distaste. He hated jobs that involved personal connections—though he’d never actually said why.

“I want answers,” Frank said, “and I want them fast.”

And that was probably why Ethan hated personal connections. Hard to do your job properly when someone closely connected rode your back.

I glanced at the file in my hand. The teenagers had gone missing from Wild Dog Creek, a small beachside town about ten minutes beyond the popular Apollo Bay. “Getting accommodations at the height of summer holidays is going to be a problem.”

“My sister-in-law has a guest house. She’s putting you up there.”

I glanced briefly at Ethan. He still wasn’t giving much away, but the taste of his displeasure was thicker in the air. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Mari won’t get in the way of the investigation.”

The problem wasn’t so much his sister-in-law or the investigation. It was more me staying with a man I was only barely resisting.

“Why the two of us?” I asked. “I can handle a missing person case by myself. I don’t need Ethan to babysit.”

Frank raised his eyebrows at that. “Do you have a problem with Ethan?”

Yeah, he was too damn sexy for my own good. I had a hard enough time resisting the man in the few minutes our paths crossed each day—how much more difficult was it going to be if I had to spend all day and all night with him?

Spending that much time together could only have one result—us in bed, getting hot and heavy. My sex drive was perfectly normal, even if the works were a little rusty, and there was no denying the fact I did want him. I just didn’t want to end up getting hurt. Thanks to my parents, I wasn’t very good at the casual stuff, and Ethan was the sort of man I could fall for. Except he didn’t seem to want a relationship of any kind.

“I just think it’s a waste of resources,” I said, then realized just what I’d said the minute Frank’s expression darkened.

“It’s my company and my people, and I’ll send who I damn well please to find my nephew.” He glared at me for several seconds, then said, “Now get going.”

I got. Outside the door, I said, “This is going to suck big time.”

“The job, or the fact that I’m going with you?”

I glanced at him, saw the amusement playing about the mouth I so wanted to kiss again. “What do you think?”

“I think your psi abilities mesh extremely well with my pragmatism and innate ability to track a killer, which is why Frank put us on this one.”

“Probably.” I punched the elevator button and crossed my arms. And tried not to think about constricted space and what had happened not so long ago. “It still sucks.”

He leaned casually against the wall. And managed to look so damn hot my hormones started their crazy cartwheels again.

“Why are you so afraid of being alone with me?”

“I’m not afraid of being alone with you.”

He smiled. A long, slow, dangerous smile. “Then it’s game on, Ravioli.”

I knew in that moment my resolution to keep him at arm’s length was in big, big trouble.

THE SO-CALLED GUEST HOUSE TURNED OUT TO BE A tiny little cabin barely big enough to contain the ancient old brass bed that dominated the main room. A creaky-looking wooden table and several chairs were squeezed into one corner, and in the other, a small kitchenette. The door leading to the bathroom was at the other end of the tiny house, on the left side of the bed.

Which was my side. Heaven only knew I’d need plenty of cold showers to get through the night without giving in to the delicious temptation that would be lying beside me.

“What can you tell me about the night your son disappeared, Mrs. Symmonds?” Ethan said, throwing his sports bag on the bed beside my case.

He’d packed light. I’d packed heavy. Lots of layers was now my motto, whatever the actual temperature.