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That he wanted a whole lot ive
He’d ht froed—andwhat had caused the devastation written so clearly on her face
But before he could decide how to approach her, Genevieve had started off at a walk so fast it was nearly a run, and he’d been forced to follow her or lose his chance
He couldn’t afford toset up the way he wanted it
Glancing at Genevieve out of the corner of his eye, he nearly snorted Yeah, right Things were going exactly as he’d planned
Except that she looked more likely to shoot him than listen to him
Plus, the speech he’d prepared sounded incredibly stupid now Like a bad pickup line instead of the appeal to her conscience he’d intended
Maybe he was just paranoid—and who could blahly that the face of every homicide detective on the force was familiar to him by now But Genevieve’s picture hadn’t done her justice On the coray than the honey blond it really was, and her a suit Now Cole was struggling to deal with the arousal that had wrapped around his gut like a fist at his first sight of her, and had only gotten worse as he’d watched her sinuous glide through the Quarter
Looking at her froernails tap an impatient rhythm on the bar as she leaned back on her barstool in a parody of relaxation What did it say about hiuarded accessibility of her fraers—had hiainst him? For the feel of her hand on his suddenly—and unexpectedly—hard cock?
Fuck, daer who couldn’t keep his dick under control? Or a man who knehat he wanted, one with a secret to unravel and could find only one woman to help him do it?
This couldn’t be happening Not nohen he was so close to getting the ball rolling Not nohen he had Detective Genevieve Delacroix almost exactly where he wanted her
But it was happening, his body spinning rapidly out of control while his led to find a way to approach her that she wouldn’t find threatening—or annoying
“So, can I buy you a drink?” Her question came out of nowhere, in a no-nonsense tone and a voice that was pure, sugary Georgia peach Smooth and silky and sweetly delicious, despite the hint of hard-ass he heard just below the surface
Surprise swept through hiood as she sounded The contrast between her voice and her tone intrigued him, one more example of the numerous contradictions that seemed to make her up
The lush body covered by that ridiculous suit
The indolent pose belied by the watchful eyes
The gorgeous voice with the don’t-fuck-with-me tone
It made him wonder who the real Genevieve Delacroix was Made him want to fk with her—to fk her—and to hell with the consequences
As he struggled to regain control—to keep his eye on the prize—the wicked curve of her lips kept interfering with his concentration
“What are you offering?” He kept his voice low as he angled his body toward hers, savoring the rush of arousal pouring through hi since he’d felt this instantaneous reaction to a woman
Her barely-there smile turned into a smirk “That depends what you ask for”
He nodded to the bartender who had sidled up to the other side of the bar “A shot of Patrón Silver”
“Interesting choice” Genevieve quirked a brow before turning to the bartender “I’ll take an Absolut and cranberry”
After the bartender moved away, she leveled a pair of deep blue eyes at hie to squirm Genevieve had cop eyes—world-weary, cynical andto believe the worst
For a split second, it was like looking into a mirror, his own tor back at hi anything but a sardonic amusement that sent shivers up his spine
“So,” she demanded as she leaned forward until her mouth was only inches from his own “Do you often drink alone?”
It was his turn to raise a brow “I’m new in town I don’t have anyone else to drink with”
“I’d feel sorry for you, but I get the impression that’s lowed as they swept over hi in response
“So what about you?”
She inclined her head “What about me?” Her peaches-and-cream voice was ripe with approval, and he felt his ck throb Shifting a little, he tried to adjust himself so his hard-on wasn’t so obvious—or painful But a quick glance at Genevieve told him that she wasit
“Do you often drink alone?” He parroted her words back at her, deterain control of the conversation
“Who says I’ for someone”
She was bluffing—pushing hie—and nor for the ride But noasn’t the time for this, he reminded himself forcibly
“Should I leave?” He started to stand
“No!” For just a limpse of the frustrated, tired, too-pissed-off-to-be-alone woman behind the mask