Lisa Childs - Evidence Of Attraction

All that type of involvement led to was betrayal and emotional pain. And that was the kind of pain he wasn’t going to risk experiencing ever again. He’d much rather risk his life than his heart.

Even though he was in jail, there was no escaping Luther Mills. Once he got hold of someone, he didn’t let go and he didn’t let up. One could not say no to Luther—not and live.

Wendy Thompson was so young and naive that she had not yet realized that.

But she would. Soon.

The person crawled under the vehicle parked in the driveway of Thompson’s parents’ house. Hands, in leather gloves, located the brake line. Then a knife cut neatly through the line, spilling fluid onto the asphalt.

By morning all the fluid would have leaked out. Maybe then Wendy would finally get the message all those threats had tried to deliver to her.

The evidence needed to disappear or, just as the messages had warned, everything and everyone Wendy Thompson held dear would disappear instead.

Her heart pounding fast and hard, Wendy closed the front door of her parents’ house behind her. She leaned back against the solid wood for a moment to catch a breath of fresh air. She felt as if she’d just run the gauntlet, trying to escape the shots fired at her. Those shots hadn’t been bullets, though—just questions her parents had asked her this morning.

They had had so many of them.

“How long have you and Hart been dating?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How serious are you?”

“What was so important that he had to see you in the middle of the night?”

Their lives. That was what was so important. In addition to the police car stationed in the area, the Payne Protection Agency had assigned bodyguards to them, as well. But they would not see the bodyguards.

Wendy couldn’t see them, either, when she looked around the house and street as she walked to the car parked on the driveway. Where were they?

The bodyguards weren’t from Parker’s team but one of his brother’s. She’d asked if one of them could protect her instead of Hart. But just as Hart had warned her, Parker had refused to assign her a different bodyguard. And Chief Lynch had backed him up.

Of course everyone thought Hart should protect her. They’d known about her crush on him and, because of that, they’d believed everyone would buy that he was her boyfriend. Heat rushed to her face with humiliation that her attraction to the former detective was such common knowledge. But Hart had never showed any interest in her. That had to be common knowledge, as well.

So would anyone actually believe that he was her boyfriend? That he’d suddenly noticed her now—when he hadn’t noticed her all the years they’d worked together even after his divorce?

Her parents had been suspicious. Or they wouldn’t have fired so many questions at her.

Those questions had been hard to dodge because lying to her parents had never been easy. But in this case, it had been necessary. She didn’t want to worry them.

Like she was worried.

They would be safe, with the police watching them, with Payne Protection bodyguards watching them.

Luther wouldn’t be able to get to them now—not with so many people protecting them. But if the threats continued, she would tell them; she would urge them to leave town for their safety and hers. She would be more careful herself if she didn’t have to worry about them, as well.

She clicked the fob to unlock the car, but before she could pull open the driver’s door, a deep voice murmured, “Good morning.”

She jumped even though she instantly recognized that voice. When she turned to face him, Hart Fisher was very close. So close that their bodies brushed against each other.

Her pulse quickened with excitement, not fear, with the attraction she felt for him—that she had always felt for him. But she didn’t want him to know that she had really had a crush on him. She already felt foolish enough about it.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked as she glanced nervously around.

The curtains swished at the front window of her parents’ house. Someone was watching them.

“I’m trying to do my damn job,” Hart said through gritted teeth as he very obviously faked a grin.

When he’d dropped her off last night, she had refused to let him inside the house. From the dark circles beneath his eyes, he must not have slept at all. Too bad his daughter’s babysitter had arrived at the agency before they’d left. He wouldn’t have been able to take Wendy home if he’d had to take care of Felicity.

But even though his babysitter had shown up, the little girl still needed her father—especially since he had full custody. Where was her mother?

“You need a safer job,” she told him.

“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice lowered even more to a growl of frustration. “It’s my assignment that’s a pain in the ass.”

She smiled—just as artificially as he had. “Then you need another assignment.”

He shook his head. “This is the one I have,” he said. “So I’m going to make the best of it.”

Then he did something she hadn’t expected. He lowered his head until his mouth brushed across hers.

Her pulse began to race and she gasped.

He kissed her again, lingering this time—his lips clinging to hers before he deepened the kiss even more. When he finally lifted his head, she gasped again—this time for breath.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

He arched his head toward the front window of the house. “For our audience.”

“You’re overacting,” she said because she had to remind herself that was all he was doing. Acting…

He wasn’t really her boyfriend. He wasn’t really attracted to her. He was only pretending.

Yet the kiss had felt real to her, so real that desire coursed through her. She wanted him. But he only wanted to do his job.

She had a job of her own to do, though. “You’re going to make me late,” she said. “I need to get to work.”

“Then get in my SUV,” he said. “And I will take you to work.”

She shook her head. “I need to have my own vehicle.” But her vehicle was actually in a service shop right now. Since her mother hadn’t been cleared to drive yet with her new right knee, Wendy was using her mom’s car.

With obvious skepticism, Hart narrowed his eyes. “If you have to go out to a crime scene, you use the department van to collect evidence,” he said.

“Yes, and you can’t go with me if I’m called to a crime scene,” she said.

He lifted his broad shoulders. “I can’t ride in the van,” he said. “But I have every intention of following you.”

“You’re not going to look like my boyfriend. You’re going to look like a stalker,” she said.

He grinned and leaned closer. So close that his lips brushed lightly across hers again. “Or like a man in love…who suspects a killer might be threatening his girlfriend.”

Her heart skipped a beat until he shuddered as if the idea repulsed him. The idea of being her boyfriend? Or of a killer being after her?

While she curved her lips into a smile, she glared at him and pushed him back so she could pull open the driver’s door. “Since you apparently intend to follow me to crime scenes, you can follow me to the station,” she said. “Because I’m driving myself there.”

Before he could reach for her again, she slid into the seat and jammed the key into the ignition. He cursed, or started to, but she turned the key and the engine drowned him out. He stepped back as she reversed the car into the street.