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Dash of Peril

Page 2

   


“I’d love to know what you’re thinking.” Dash looked her over in a way that felt far too physical.
That I missed you so much, too. Blocking that response, she asked, “What are we doing here, Dash? It’s getting late and I’ve had a full day.”
His gaze narrowed, proving she’d hit a nerve. “If you wanted to start back at the bar scene, you should have given me a call.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it alone.”
His gaze moved over her face. “Do Logan and Reese know what you’re doing?”
Oh, now that just pissed her off. She settled into the corner of the seat, getting comfortable for this long-overdue confrontation. She would have preferred somewhere less...confined, maybe a location where his presence didn’t fill every inch of her space, where she didn’t breathe in his scent, where his tall, ripped body wasn’t so temptingly close.
But all she had was the here and now, so she’d make her point and then send him on his way. “You’re confusing yourself, Dash. My detectives answer to me, not the other way around.”
He disregarded her commanding tone and clear umbrage to say, “So they don’t know?”
“I don’t answer to anyone, especially not you.”
As if finally realizing her mood, he raised his brows. “You know it’s dangerous.”
“I can handle danger.” Hadn’t she spent too many nights being dangerously attracted to him?
“What if your ploy works and someone grabs you?”
“That’s the plan.” And yes, it was dangerous. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t right. But deep down, she had so damn many issues....
“You need backup.” Before she could say anything, Dash whispered, “Let me be your backup.”
“You and I have different objectives.”
“I want to sleep with you,” he admitted without reserve. “You want to catch some creeps—so sure, our main objectives are miles apart.”
Plainspoken Dash. Margo shook her head, denying what he wanted and how his brazen words affected her.
“But,” Dash said with emphasis, “the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I’d like to see the creeps caught, same as you.”
He’d like to see them caught. No sign of outrage or disgust at what happened, at what the men did—or what the women suffered.
Margo blew out a breath. If she involved Rowdy Yates, he would go after the bastards with single-minded intent.
Dash’s brother, Detective Logan Riske, one of the most honest, honorable, driven men she knew, always attacked injustice. He was seriousness personified.
Funny how the two brothers were so dissimilar in personality.
Logan saw her as a sexless superior, not a woman.
But Dash had been making his interest known almost from the moment they’d met. Unlike Logan, he played at life and enjoyed every moment.
In many ways, Margo was just like the rest of her family. Being a cop was in her blood.
But other things...other genetic ties...
“I’m pretty sure,” Dash went on, interrupting her disturbing thoughts, “that you want to sleep with me, too.”
A denial would be pointless. Dash knew women. Instead, she gave him the truth. “It won’t happen.”
“Because?”
“For one thing, I’m the lieutenant at a station previously plagued by corruption. I spent a lot of time and made a lot of enemies clearing out the trash.” More than one bad cop had lost his job. Other, less conscientious cops resented her for turning out their friends.
Logan and Reese were two of only a handful of good cops who had backed her 100 percent.
With anything work-related, she trusted them both. Away from the station...she preferred they stay out of her business.
Sleeping with the brother of a lead detective would definitely blur the lines.
“It’s important that I keep my personal life completely separate from work.” Few would understand her personal life, and too many others would use it against her.
“You think I’d gossip with Logan?”
“Probably Reese, too.” Logan and Detective Reese had been buddies forever; Logan and Dash were as close as two brothers could be. They all hung out together.
That made the circle far too close for her peace of mind.
“Seriously?” Dash angled his broad shoulders into the corner of the car to better face her. “You think guys sit around and share conquests?”
“Conquests?” Margo smirked. “Is that what you call it?”
“I might if I was the pathetic type to brag about how and when and with whom I had sex.” Getting comfortable, he unzipped his coat, showing a black thermal crew-neck shirt beneath. “But here’s a news flash for you—I don’t screw and tell. At least, not since I was seventeen. And trust me, even if I was the type—and again, I’m not—do you really think Logan or Reese wants to hear about us doing the nasty?”
Curiosity finally got her attention off his throat and up to his dark brown eyes. She tipped her head. “Would it be nasty?”
Dash watched her for several seconds before replying. “Entirely up to you.” His voice went deep and dark. “It can go any way you want—as long as it goes.”
She imagined sex with Dash would be...fine. Satisfying, sure. The man exuded testosterone and confidence. But it’d be the same old run-of-the-mill bang-for-fun encounter. He’d be polite, a gentleman. Considerate. It’d take the edge off, but there’d be no real depth. No risk.
No danger.
Unfortunately, that just didn’t do it for her.
Not that she’d ever tell Dash what did do it for her. That, by necessity, she reserved for fleeting adventures with strangers. Men she could control.
Men she would never see twice.
She did not share with guys closely related to her detectives.
“You know,” Dash said, “Logan prefers to think you’re made of stone. Reese, too. Must be a cop thing, right? To them, you’re a peer, not a supersexy woman.”
She and Logan had always shared mutual respect. Reese...that had taken a while but they were on good terms now. Both Logan and Reese were incredible detectives and she was lucky to have them.
But they weren’t peers. “I’m their superior.”
Dash grinned. “Maybe that attitude of yours helped to form their perspectives.”
Even now he couldn’t be serious. “Maybe.” Other than how it pertained to being a cop, she knew little enough about how men thought. What she did know she didn’t particularly like.
“I’m not the only one who sees it.”
She cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You being sexy.” He watched her far too closely, maybe judging her response. “Rowdy sees it, too.”
A little thrill of excitement uncurled inside her, but she hid it. “Rowdy married his bartender.”
“Doesn’t make a man blind now, does it?”
No, but maybe it should. She detested men who cheated almost as much as the guys who were physically abusive.
“You know, honey, Rowdy has a distinct dislike of cops. You and he never would have happened.”
Dear God, had he read her thoughts? Did he know she’d once set her sights on Rowdy?
Did anyone else know?
She tried to put on her poker face, but he’d caught her off guard. Instead, she just spelled out the truth to him. “Rowdy has a certain appeal, but even if he’d been interested, I never would have gone down that road.”
“Ah,” Dash said, a little mocking. “Still too close to home, huh? I mean, his sister is married to Logan and you’re all uptight about that possible gossip—”
Margo lost her temper. “Is there a point to this chat? Because if so, I wish you’d get to it.”
“All right.” Taking liberties, Dash adjusted the climate controls, turning down the heat now that the car had warmed. “I want your answer.”
“About?” She glanced at the illuminated clock. If she didn’t get home soon she may as well plan on staying up. Her shift would start in less than five hours.
Before she realized his intent, Dash moved toward her, leaning over the console and stealing the breath in her lungs.
She frowned—and his mouth brushed hers.
In a rough whisper, he said, “This.”
Margo couldn’t deny that it felt good to be near a man, this man, soaking up his heat, hearing the husky timbre of his voice, feeling the restrained power innate in all good men.
He put scant space between their mouths and waited.
When she didn’t pull away, Dash leaned in again, nudging her lips apart with his own. She relaxed at the damp touch of his tongue, first tracing her lips and then dipping inside.
God, he tasted good, like a man should. Her heart pumped faster. More so than the average guy, Dash was muscular from work in his construction company. Tall, handsome, friendly...and sexy.
What would it hurt if she gave in? If she took the brief pleasure he offered? It wouldn’t last, and in some ways it’d only make her want more, things she couldn’t have.
Unreasonable things.
Twisted things.
Margo flattened her hands on his chest and levered him away. “That’s enough.”
His forehead rested against hers. “Our definitions of enough are further apart than our motivations.”
“I...can’t.”
Remaining close, frowning just a little, Dash studied her face, her eyes...her soul. “Tell me why.”
She couldn’t. “I’m sorry.” Did she have to sound so breathless? “You should go now.” Before she changed her mind and complicated her life horribly. It wouldn’t be fair to him...and it wouldn’t be fair to her.
Dash didn’t press her, but his tension increased. One hand still on the side of her face, he brushed his thumb over her temple. “You’ve been as clear as you can be, you know? Not interested. I hear you say it and I believe you. I see you like this, and I’m convinced.”
She couldn’t get enough oxygen to relieve the restriction in her chest. “But?”
“But I’m getting mixed signals all the same.”
So damned astute. Maybe he had a few things in common with Logan after all. God knew his brother rarely missed even the most subtle clue. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s it?” He dropped back to his seat, his eyes glittering in the darkness. “That’s the explanation?”
She shook her head. “I don’t explain myself. It was only an apology.” Without meaning to, she licked over her bottom lip—and saw the heat in his dark eyes increase. “I don’t owe you anything, Dash.” And no way would she tell him she did want him—just not enough to overcome the problems. Sex with Dash would be like bungee jumping when she wanted to skydive.
“No,” he said softly, “I don’t suppose you do.” His expression flat, all his natural humor squashed, Dash buttoned up his coat again, opened the door and stepped out. A blast of wintery air slapped her heated face—but it couldn’t compete with the sudden frigidness of his mood. “Drive safely, Margo.”