Susan Mallery - Hot On Her Heels

The fourth book in the Lone Star Sisters series, 2009

IT HAD TAKEN FOUR MONTHS, calling in every favor ever owed her, a case of expensive Scotch and a date with a slimy private investigator who had made the mistake of thinking “date” meant “sex.” A knee to the groin had cured him of that belief. In the end, Dana Birch had gotten her man.

Now, as she rode the elevator up to Garth Duncan’s penthouse condo, she smiled at the paperwork in her hand. Paperwork that demanded he come talk to the good people at the Dallas Police Department. Paperwork that said Garth was going to have a very bad day. She, on the other hand, couldn’t be happier.

“Rat bastard, weasel dog,” she murmured as she stepped off the elevator and headed to his front door. “You thought you were so smart. You thought you could do whatever you wanted and get away with it. You thought you could hurt my friends.”

If life were perfect, he would resist accompanying her and she could threaten him with her gun. Maybe even accidentally shoot him. If only he were the type of guy to cower in the face of authority, not to mention consequences. In her fantasies, he would tremble and beg. While it wasn’t as good as watching him bleed, it would be a close second. Unfortunately Garth was more the type to have a thousand-dollar-an-hour attorney who lived to sue police departments. Not that his high-powered attorney would be much help today.

“You are so mine, Garth,” she said, then knocked.

In the minute or so it took him to answer, she savored the victory. She’d worked hard to nail Garth and it had been worth every long hour of digging, following up clues and waiting for a lucky break. It was his own fault, she thought cheerfully. He’d messed with people she cared about. No one did that without having to face her.

The front door opened. She smiled as she saw Garth was half-concealed behind the door. Maybe he was afraid, she thought with a flicker of contempt.

She held out the papers. “Good morning. We’re going to take a little ride downtown.”

“Are we?” he asked as he opened the door wider, so she could see all of him. “Am I allowed to get dressed first?”

An unexpected twist, Dana thought grimly as she took in the towel draped around his neck, covering his chest, and the one around his waist. He was dripping, obviously just out of the shower. His dark hair stood in little spikes, his expression was far more amused than worried.

“At least you know I’m not armed,” he said, his voice thick with humor.

“I wouldn’t be afraid if you were.”

“That’s because you don’t know what I’m capable of, Deputy Birch. So which is it? Are you prepared to parade me naked through the streets of Dallas or will I be putting on clothes?”

He sounded confident, as if he knew she wouldn’t take him in a towel, which was true. Damn him. She liked situations where she was in charge.

“You can get dressed,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll need to be in the room, though, to make sure you don’t try to escape.”

He actually gave her a little wink. “Of course you will. That’s as good an excuse as any.”

Irritation coursed through her. Instinctively she rested her right hand on her sidearm. “You wish,” she snapped. “Let me assure you I have no interest in seeing your bony backside. Or any other part of you.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “You can watch, Dana. I don’t mind.”

He was playing with her, trying to mess with her. She focused on the reason she was here.

“Joke all you want,” she told him. “You’re going to jail.”

“If only wishing made it so.”

“You’re not getting out of this,” she said. “I have the proof I need.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice was low and deceptively soft. “If you had what you needed, you’d be arresting me, not bringing me in for questioning. Admit it, Dana. You’re not even close to charging me with anything. This is a fishing expedition.”

While she knew in her head that reacting with violence only weakened her position and proved he was right, she really, really wanted to hit him.

“I’m officially bored,” she said, dropping her arm to her side. “Let’s get this over with.”

“The part where you watch me naked?”

She stepped into his condo and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Lucky, lucky me. Have you been featured in Arrogance Monthly yet?”

“I’ve been on the cover.”

He shut the door, then led the way through the large penthouse.

The main room was huge-she was guessing she could fit her apartment and five others just like it in the space. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of most of Dallas. Not that she cared about that sort of thing.

She returned her attention to the man in front of her, then frowned as sunlight caught his back, illuminating the scars crisscrossing his skin.

A few of them were thin lines, but most were thick and raised, as if the skin had been cut over and over again. Her stomach clenched slightly, not that she allowed her expression to change.

She knew the basic facts about Garth Duncan. He was rich-scary rich, with dozens of companies and money flowing like water. He’d started in the oil business and while down in South America, no doubt raping and pillaging a pristine part of the world, he’d been captured and held prisoner by some angry locals. They’d kept him and a coworker blindfolded in the jungle for a month, torturing them both daily.

Her gaze dropped to his long, muscled legs. She could see faint scars there, too, but these had come from a surgeon. Both of Garth’s legs had been broken during his captivity. His friend had carried him to safety.

If only Garth had died back then, Dana thought, but without a whole lot of energy. He wouldn’t be hurting her friends. But he hadn’t died. He’d come back home and flourished.

She followed a few steps behind as he entered a massive bedroom, then continued into a bathroom the size of a grocery store. That led into one of those fancy closets done in dark wood. All the clothes were perfectly organized by color. Shoes were lined up on racks.

She leaned against the doorway, never taking her eyes from him. “Anytime.”

His dark gaze locked with hers. He seemed to be enjoying himself, which pissed her off. But once the investigation began, his attitude would change. She was bringing him in. For now, that was enough.

His smile returned. He pulled the towel off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “If you don’t have to be anywhere in the next couple of hours, we could take advantage of my lack of clothes.”

“Hours? Oh, please. You’d be lucky to last six minutes. Quit playing, Garth. I have a full day ahead of me. Despite what you think, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“Yes, Deputy Birch.”

He dropped the towel at his waist.

She kept her eyes on his face. Not only didn’t he interest her in the least, but she was here in a professional capacity. She was proud of her job and what she did for the community. The good people of her town didn’t pay her to ogle the likes of Garth Duncan.

“No?” he asked, completely naked and holding out his arms at his side. “I’m yours for the taking.”

She faked a yawn.

He laughed. A rich, full laugh that spoke of amusement and perhaps grudging respect. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself wanting to smile back at him. As if they were sharing a connection. As if they had something in common. As if they almost liked each other and might even be almost friends.