Passion's Law. Ruth Langan
She brought a hand to her throat in a gesture of surprise. “I didn’t hear you.”
There was a breathy quality to her voice that intrigued him. If he hadn’t noticed it earlier in her uncle’s office, he’d write it off as nerves. Without realizing it, his frown deepened. He took a step closer, until they were mere inches apart.
With each step that he took toward her, she had an almost overpowering urge to step back, out of reach. Foolish, she knew, but the feeling was too strong to deny. This man made her uncomfortable. Odd, since she’d never before been anything but completely comfortable in the presence of men. But then, this man wasn’t like any she’d ever met.
Though she thought of herself as tall, she had to tip her head back to see his face. He had to be several inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerfully muscled chest. For a big man he moved with surprising catlike grace.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was low and deep, with a hint of impatience.
“You could have warned me you were here.” She had the distinct impression that he’d been there for some time, watching her, and had been as uncomfortable as she when she’d turned and caught sight of him.
“And interrupt those deep thoughts of yours?”
So, he had been watching her.
When he drew close she saw again that piercing stare. It had the strangest effect on her. She’d thought his eyes dark, but in the sunlight streaming through the windows she could see that they were a deep midnight blue.
A breeze flitted through the open window, flinging a lock of her hair across her face. Without warning he lifted a finger to it and brushed it aside. It was the slightest touch, and yet it sent a jolt of electricity charging through her system with all the force of a lightning bolt.
At that simple touch she stood perfectly still, absorbing the tremors that rocked her. Her eyes widened and she had to clasp her hands together to keep from flinching.
Had he felt it, too, or was she the only one affected like this? A quick glance at his face revealed only a slight narrowing of his eyes. But it was enough to tell her that he wasn’t as cool and disinterested as he tried to appear.
He cleared his throat. “Did I understand that you’re going to be living here?”
She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
“For how long?”
She swallowed and prayed she wouldn’t sound as uneasy as she felt. “I don’t really know.” She looked at him, then away. “I guess I’ll be here for as long as my uncle needs me.”
“Needs you for what?”
“He’s been spending most of his time here since the…” She couldn’t bring herself to mention the shooting. “Since his party. And because I’m familiar with the work, I offered to come here and act as his assistant.”
“I see.” He glanced around. “Have you considered the isolation of this place?”
She nodded. “That’s part of its charm.”
“For a week or two maybe. After that, when people realize they can’t shop at high-priced boutiques, or reserve a table at a fancy restaurant, the charm starts to wear thin. How long do you think you can stand it, Miss McGrath?”
“I told you. For as long as my uncle needs me.”
“Even if it turns out to be months?”
She nodded. “That’s right.” She arched a brow. “Is that a look of skepticism, Detective?”
“Could be. Personally I doubt you’ll last more than a week or two before you get the urge to race back to civilization.”
“Is that so? You wouldn’t care to bet on that, would you?”
For the first time his lips curved slightly, the only hint of humor. “Are you asking a man of the law to gamble?”
“Afraid you’ll lose?”
He continued staring at her. “Are you a betting woman, Miss McGrath?”
“I’ve been known to make a wager or two.”
“Have you now?” He gave her a measuring look that had the heat rising to her cheeks. “Five bucks says you’re bored out of your mind and out of here within two weeks.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
She glanced down at his hand, then up into those challenging eyes. “Oh, yeah. How can I resist such an easy way to make five dollars? You’re on, Detective.”
He closed his hand over hers and, too late, she remembered how she’d felt the first time his hand had held hers. The heat was back, racing along her spine, surging through her veins. But when she tried to pull free, he merely drew her closer, until his lips hovered just above hers. “My friends call me Thad.”
“Really?” She wanted to look away, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead she lifted her head, forcing herself to meet that steely gaze. “Then I guess I’ll call you Detective Law, because I don’t see the two of us becoming friends. Would you like to pay up now? Or are you going to make me wait until the two weeks are up?”
He chuckled. He’d give her this much. She didn’t back down. “You haven’t won anything yet, Miss McGrath. As for me, I think my job just got more interesting.”
“Your job?” She was suddenly alert as she yanked her hand free and studied him more carefully. “You’re…working here? I thought this was just a routine visit, and that you wouldn’t be back.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
For the first time she noticed the notepad in his other hand. Her voice lowered. “If this isn’t merely a routine check, does this mean something is wrong?”
He kept his features deliberately unreadable. “Sorry, Miss McGrath. I’m not at liberty to discuss my business with anyone except your uncle.”
“Of course.” She felt the sting of censure and wondered how it was that this man could make her feel so damnably awkward. In any other man his attitude would come across as pure arrogance, but she had the feeling that in Thad Law, it was simply the way he conducted business. No doubt he put up a wall between himself and every civilian he came in contact with.
“Well.” She took a step back, needing to put some distance between them so she could catch her breath. “Don’t let me stop you, Detective.”
Instead of giving her the space she so obviously wanted, he leaned close and watched the way her eyes narrowed. “I told you. It’s Thad. Why don’t you try it?”
“Why don’t you—” She drew in a breath when she saw the hint of humor in his eyes. She counted to ten, then tried again. “Okay. Why not? I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Thad.”
“You can count on it, Miss McGrath.”
“My name is Heather.”
He seemed to consider that a moment, as though fitting the name to the woman. “You can count on seeing me around, Heather.” He stood there a moment longer, feeling the tension hum between them. Then he turned on his heel.
She watched him walk away. It occurred to her that he didn’t so much walk as stalk. Like a panther on the trail of some poor, unsuspecting prey.
She shivered at the thought.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited until her breathing had returned to normal and her legs felt steady enough to carry her without stumbling. Then she headed in the opposite direction. She didn’t want to bump into Thaddeus Law again. There was something far too dark and dangerous about him.
Like a man who’d seen too much. And knew too many secrets. Secrets he had no intention of sharing with anyone.