One touch was all it took…

Marley’s tank top had ridden up, and Caleb found himself touching bare skin. Bare, warm skin, so soft that he hissed in a breath.

“I…” Marley’s voice drifted and her mouth fell

He could do nothing to hide his swift response. Her flesh felt like heaven, and her sweet scent was far too intoxicating. Before he could stop himself, he moved his hand over her hip in a fleeting caress. An unsteady breath slid out of her throat.

Insanity. This was freaking insanity, and he was helpless to stop it. He’d been watching Marley Kincaid for seven days, watching and yearning and fighting the arousal he knew he shouldn’t be feeling.

But he couldn’t fight it now. Not when she was this close.

Screw it. Kissing her was wrong on so many levels, but at this point, he didn’t care. He wanted her so badly his bones ached.

So he took her…

About the Author

ELLE KENNEDY grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a BA in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was only a teenager. When she’s not writing, she’s reading. And when she’s not reading, she’s making music with her drummer boyfriend, oil painting or indulging her love for board games.

Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at her website www.ellekennedy.com to send her a note.

Witness
Seduction

Elle Kennedy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Amanda

1

“OKAY, HOW ABOUT THIS—you’re walking down the street and suddenly you bump into a tall, dark and handsome stranger who sweeps you off your feet, looks deep into your eyes and says, ‘I have never seen such exquisite beauty. Have coffee with me, my mysterious maiden.’ Would you go out with him?”

Marley Kincaid burst into laughter, nearly spilling her coffee all over the oak work island in the middle of her kitchen. She set down the mug and grinned at her best friend. “‘My mysterious maiden’?” she echoed. “Uh, yeah, I’m not sure I could go out with any man who called me that.”

Gwen Shaffer rolled her eyes. “Okay, pretend he didn’t say that. He’s just a drop-dead gorgeous guy who wants to buy you a cup of coffee. Would you go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Marley sighed. “Why are you so eager to get me dating again?”

Gwen had raised the subject the second she’d walked into the house nearly an hour ago, and Marley was growing tired of it. She didn’t usually mind when Gwen popped in on her day off to chat over coffee, but this conversation was beginning to annoy her. Somehow it had gone from Gwen trying to convince her to go on a blind date to what-if scenarios that made no sense. She knew her friend meant well, but what was the point in talking about all the possible ways she might meet a man?

“Because you’ve barely left this house in months,” Gwen replied. “I want to see you having fun again. All you do is paint and put up wallpaper and—”

“I’m renovating,” Marley interrupted. “And I’m enjoying it.”

“You’re hiding from the world, and you know it.” Gwen’s tone softened. “Look, I understand, hon. That bastard is still on the run. If it were me, I’d be worried, too. I mean, what if he shows up here pleading for help or something?”

Marley’s entire body tensed. She swallowed hard, turning her head so she was spared the familiar flicker of sympathy in her friend’s dark-green eyes. She hated it when Gwen brought up Patrick. Hated being reminded of the disastrous relationship that had ended in a train wreck she hadn’t seen coming.

Eight months ago, she’d been on top of the world. Working at a job she loved, buying her first home, falling in love.

Well, she still had the job and the house, but the man she loved? Turned out he hadn’t been all that worthy of her undying affection.

She’d met Patrick at the hospital, where he’d been recovering from a nasty stab wound to his side. Mugged on his way home from work, or so she’d believed at the time. She’d been assigned to his room, and it hadn’t taken long for Patrick’s easygoing charm to lure her in.

They went on their first date the night he got discharged from the hospital and, three weeks later, he practically moved into her house. Four months after that, they were engaged.

It’d lasted five months. Five months of great sex and laughter and that wonderful feeling of falling in love with a handsome, attentive man. He’d wrapped her in a protective bubble and made her believe anything was possible. Patrick had been good at that, playing makebelieve. So good that when the cops had come knocking on her door, she’d actually defended him.

She still remembered the disbelief on those police officers’ faces when she’d finally realized the truth. That her fiancé was not a freelance web designer, but a drug distributor. Not to mention the prime suspect in the fatal shooting of a federal agent.

God, what a fool she’d been.

“He won’t show up,” she said darkly. “He’s probably lying on a beach in Mexico, laughing at the law-enforcement officers who couldn’t catch him.”

Fortunately, Patrick hadn’t tried contacting her since he’d fled three months before, and good riddance. She never wanted to see that man again, and for the past few months she’d gone to great lengths to permanently erase him from her life. Burned his clothes in the backyard, flushed his engagement ring down the toilet.

Too bad none of that had succeeded in actually exorcising him from her mind.

“I’m not too happy with the cops, either,” Gwen said with a frown. “I still can’t believe they thought you were involved.”

Marley’s lips tightened. “Detective Hernandez couldn’t accept that I was so naive. How could I not know my fiancé was a criminal?”

“You weren’t naive. Patrick was just a good liar.”

“Yeah, he was.” Marley picked up her mug, along with Gwen’s empty one, and set them both in the sink. “At least the police are finally leaving me alone. I only hope it stays that way. Now, can we please stop talking about Patrick?”

Gwen’s face brightened. “Okay. Can we talk about Nick’s friend then?”

Marley suppressed a groan. “I told you, I’m not interested.”

“I’m not suggesting you marry the guy. It’s just a date. One measly little date. You said you were ready to date again.”

“No, I said I might be.” She blew a stray strand of hair off her forehead. “But a blind date isn’t the way I want to go about it, okay? I’m not having dinner with a complete stranger. It’s too forced, too…intimate.”

“Then we’ll make it a double date.”

“No.” Without looking at Gwen, she swallowed back the bitterness sticking to her throat and added, “I can’t agree to go out with a stranger. I can’t do it, Gwen. Not now, anyway.”

“Fine, but the subject’s not closed, you know. We’ll talk about it later.” Gwen hopped off the stool, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders, and reached for the black leather purse she’d set on the counter. “I have to run. I’m meeting Nick for lunch.”

Marley followed her friend out of the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the weathered hardwood floor. They reached the front hall, sidestepping the stack of two-by-fours obstructing the way. Marley’s younger brother, Sam, had promised to extend the coat closet by a couple feet, so last weekend he’d come over and hacked away at the wall. Then he’d gotten a phone call and taken off to handle a work emergency. He hadn’t been back since, and Marley was now left with a gaping hole in the floor and all the supplies he’d brought into her hallway.

She didn’t mind, though. Sam was busy working at their dad’s construction company, and it made her happy he was doing well. Her brother had always been irresponsible and scatterbrained growing up. It was nice seeing him act like an adult, even if it did mean he’d left his sister in the lurch.

Gwen paused on the front porch. “Want to come to lunch with us?” she offered.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Marley was so not in the mood to watch Gwen make googly eyes at her long-time boyfriend. The two of them still acted as if they were in the mushy newlywed stage when in fact they’d been together for years.

Her friend looked suspicious. “How are you planning to spend the rest of your day off?”

“Cleaning out the eaves,” she said, fighting back a smile.

Gwen blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re incorrigible.”

Marley’s smile reached the surface. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Can’t argue that. All right, I’ll see you at the hospital tomorrow.” Gwen leaned in to give her a quick side hug, then bounded down the porch steps toward the shiny black Jeep parked behind the red Mazda convertible Marley had owned since she was eighteen years old.

Marley waved at her friend, watched Gwen speed away, then walked back inside. Alone, she let out a heavy sigh. Talking about Patrick always brought this awful feeling to her stomach. A cross between sorrow and bitterness, with a hefty dose of anger thrown into the mix. Everyone in her life kept pushing her to forget about him—Gwen, their friends from the hospital, her dad, her brother.

None of them seemed to get it. They didn’t understand how badly Patrick had hurt her. Not only that, but he’d taken a skewer to her judgment and punched so many holes in it she wasn’t sure she could ever trust her instincts again.

What kind of woman fell in love with a murderer? How could she have been so blind to Patrick’s deception? She knew she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last woman to be duped by a man. Heck, she’d once watched an entire documentary about serial killers and how they skillfully deceived their loved ones.

But that didn’t make this situation any better. She still felt like a fool. She’d completely fallen for Patrick’s lies and she hated how easily he’d conned her. He’d even convinced her to open a joint savings account, saying they’d need one anyway when they were married. Good thing she hadn’t gotten around to depositing anything into it, but it still irked—especially since she couldn’t close the damn thing because the cops had frozen it.

And sure, maybe she was hiding from the world, just a little, but the renovations on her house helped keep her mind off her fugitive ex-fiancé. Besides, she really was enjoying the work.

Her place was nestled in a neighborhood of quaint Victorians and leafy elm trees at the end of the cul-de-sac. Two stories high, it was painted pale cream and in desperate need of new shutters. But she loved the old place. She planned on tackling the exterior after the inside was all spruced up.

Heading to the laundry room, she grabbed all the cleaning supplies she needed. She slipped her feet into a pair of white sneakers, then hauled her bucket of supplies out to the side of the house, where the wooden ladder she’d set up earlier leaned against the slate-green roof.

Fine, so maybe cleaning out eaves wasn’t the most exciting thing to do on one’s day off, but it needed to be done. And who knew, maybe one of Gwen’s what-if scenarios would come true.

A tall, dark and handsome stranger approaches the house. “My mysterious maiden,” he says. “Your beauty overwhelms me. Let me clean your rain gutters.”

Marley smothered a laugh. Rolling her eyes, she snapped a pair of rubber gloves onto her hands and climbed the first rung of the ladder.

“This maiden needs no man to take care of her,” she murmured to herself with a grin.

CALEB FORD LEANED BACK in the plush swivel chair and wondered when exactly he’d become a voyeur. His job had forced him to sit through many a stakeout but somehow this one seemed…wrong.

Arousing as hell…but damn it, wrong.

He’d been a DEA agent for ten years, had put dozens of criminals behind bars, gotten shot twice in his career—and yet this one little stakeout was killing him. It should’ve been easy, a wait-and-grab he could’ve done in his sleep. The location was perfect, the electronic equipment was sweet, and his target, despite the irregular hours she worked, didn’t leave the house much.

Yep, in theory, this stakeout should’ve been a piece of cake.

But none of his theories had taken into consideration the powerful allure of Marley Kincaid.

Caleb shifted in the chair, hoping to ease the ache in his groin. A sip of the cold soda sitting on the desk in front of him helped cool his throat, but did nothing to snuff out the fire in his lower body.

A quick glance at the screens displaying Marley’s front and back doors showed no movement. Not that he had to be so vigilant; the motion detectors they’d set up caused the monitors to release a loud buzz every time anyone walked by them. There was plenty of movement at the side of the house, however.

Marley was up on a ladder, wearing faded cut-off shorts, a red tank top and yellow rubber gloves, and she was cleaning out the eaves using a long brush. Wet leaves and mud went sailing down to the grass ten feet below, remnants of last night’s thunderstorm.

Damn, she was cute up there on the ladder, her blond ponytail swishing back and forth as she worked. When he’d taken the case, he’d seen pictures of Marley, sure, but seeing her in person was a different story altogether. It had been a week since he’d hunkered down next door to her, and already he’d memorized every detail of her face—her golden-brown eyes set over a pair of unbelievably high cheekbones, her cute upturned nose, her full sensual lips. God, those lips. She had a mouth made for sin. Not to mention a body that could cause a man to forget his own name.

For seven days now he’d wondered what she looked like naked. But they only had clearance to install cameras outside the house. And she always closed her drapes when she undressed, forcing his imagination to run wild as he stared at her enticing silhouette removing various undergarments.

His cell phone began to ring, a much-needed distraction from the woman next door.

Sighing, he snatched the phone from its perch near the computer keyboard and pressed the talk button. “Ford,” he said. His voice came out hoarse, and he had to clear his throat before speaking again.

“I’m at the Starbucks around the corner,” came AJ Callaghan’s southern drawl. “Want some coffee?”

Caleb tore his gaze away from the monitor. “Hell, yes,” he told his partner.

“Huh. You sound cranky. Ms. Kincaid doing yoga again?”

“Nope, cleaning the rain gutters.”

“Darn. I won’t hurry then. But call me if she starts up with the yoga.” AJ’s tone revealed the man was no doubt sporting a huge grin. “You know,” AJ added, “I can’t see Grier staying away from her for much longer. We already know he was infatuated with Nurse Hottie, and seriously, with that bod, who could blame the guy?”

Oh, Caleb couldn’t blame Patrick Grier for craving Marley’s extremely delectable body, either. Thanks to all the cameras Caleb and AJ had set up around the perimeter of Marley’s house providing visuals of the kitchen, living room and bedroom, Caleb had firsthand experience with Kincaid’s assets. And he was doing a little bit of craving himself.

Fortunately, all it took was one swift glance at the picture taped to the side of his computer monitor, and the need for vengeance replaced his desire.

As Caleb hung up the phone, he stared at Patrick Grier’s grainy features. What pissed him off the most was how normal Grier looked. Brown hair, brown eyes, handsome in a preppy sort of way. That was drug-dealing murderers for you—they rarely ever looked like the scum they were.

If it were any other scumbag dealer, Caleb might have handed the case over to a junior agent and focused on the bigger fish swimming around in the drug pond. But this particular scumbag had murdered Caleb’s best friend, and he wasn’t going to rest until Patrick Grier was behind bars.

He looked back at the monitor and grinned when he noticed Marley leaning to the side, one slender arm stretched out as she attempted to tackle a clump of leaves that refused to dislodge. The grin faded, however, when something caught his eye. One of the rungs on the ladder looked…wrong. He leaned closer, squinting at the screen.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

Sure enough, the rung he’d noticed was sagging on one side. He couldn’t see much more than that, but he suspected it was cracked. The thing would probably break the second she stepped on it.

Fortunately Marley’s feet were on the rung below the broken one, but the way she was reaching her arms out, it wouldn’t be long before she needed some more height to connect with her target.

Crap. What should he do in this situation? Sit around and wait for her to fall?

Caleb gritted his teeth. He couldn’t go over there and warn her. Making contact with the person you were watching defeated the entire point of a stakeout. And he wouldn’t risk the possibility of losing Grier. In his gut, he knew the other man was bound to show up here. When they’d raided the office Grier had been using for his web design company, they’d found more than a dozen pictures of Marley taped on the walls. Grier was obsessed with her, and Caleb knew he’d come for her.

He felt it deep in his gut, a certainty his supervisor, unfortunately, didn’t quite agree with. But at least Agent Stevens had green-lighted this stakeout. How long he’d let it go on, Caleb wasn’t sure, but for now, he could sit tight and see if his hunch played out. The local cops were already watching Marley at the hospital, but Caleb knew Grier wouldn’t make a move there. Too many witnesses around. Here, though…Marley lived alone, didn’t have many visitors and her house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac with a large park right behind it. This was the perfect place for Grier to make an appearance.

On the screen, Marley was looking up at the roof in dismay. An ominous feeling crept along Caleb’s spine. He watched as she lifted one foot. His chest tightened with sickly anticipation.

“Don’t do it,” he mumbled at her, though of course she couldn’t hear him. “Look down first.”

But she didn’t, and it was like seeing the chain of events that led up to a disaster, in slow motion, unable to do a damn thing about it.

She climbed up onto the next rung of the ladder, and he could practically hear the wood splintering beneath her feet. He couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine the look of terror filling her pretty features as the rung gave way. She lost her footing, and the ladder swiftly toppled onto the grass down below.

Caleb shot to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A faint flicker of admiration lit his chest as he saw her arms whip up like an acrobat’s, grabbing at the white-painted eave.

Relief flooded through him. She hadn’t fallen. Instead, she dangled ten feet off the ground like a really crappy cat burglar attempting to scale a building. Caleb couldn’t help but grin at the thought, but his mouth hardened when Marley twisted her neck, glancing down at the grass as if contemplating whether she could land the jump.

Sure you can, sweetheart, except you’ll probably break your ankle. Or your neck.

Letting out a sigh, Caleb took one last look at the screen, then tore out of the room.

He ran out the front door of the house the agency had rented from a pair of retired teachers who were traveling for the summer. The afternoon sun nearly blinded him, making him realize he hadn’t been outside in a week. It felt weird after being cooped up indoors for so long.

He crossed the perfectly kept lawn toward the side of the house. Only a couple of yards separated the two homes, and when he approached, Marley still hung from the eaves, cursing to herself under her breath.

He cleared his throat. “Need some help?”

She yelped in surprise and nearly lost her grip. Her legs swung wildly, making his heartbeat quicken. “Don’t let go,” he ordered.

“Who are you?” Her voice sounded tinny as it floated down from above.

“Your next-door neighbor,” he replied. “And possibly the guy who saves your life.”

She peered down at him, her light-brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I know my next-door neighbors, mister, and you aren’t them.”

“The Strathorns are in Europe. I’m renting their house for the summer,” he called back, annoyance tightening his lips. “Now, do you think we can discuss this after we get you down from there?”

There was a long pause. Then she was scrutinizing the ground again. “I think I can make the jump,” she said. “I once saw a documentary on stunt doubles.”

He suppressed a laugh. “That’s terrific. But no, you cannot make the jump.” He swallowed. “I’ll catch you.”

She let out a squeaky protest. “What? No way. What if you miss? Or what if I crush you—”

“With the hundred pounds you’re packing?” he interrupted in amusement. “You won’t crush me, and I won’t miss.”

Caleb stepped closer, assessing the height and angle from which she was hanging. If he raised his arms, he could almost touch her sneakers. “I’ll catch you,” he said with confidence. “I need you to take a deep breath, and let go. Okay?”

“No, thanks.”

He closed his eyes briefly, fighting back irritation. “What do you mean, no thanks?” He scowled up at her. “Are you always so difficult?”

“No, I’m scared,” she retorted. “I’m only twentyseven. I don’t want to die today.”

This time he couldn’t stop a laugh from rumbling out of his throat. “You won’t die. Trust me. Deep breath, then let go. On the count of three, okay?”

She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity. “Okay.”

He rubbed his hands together, widening his stance. “One,” he called. “Two—”

“Wait—on three, or one, two, three, let go?”

Caleb sighed. “On three.”

“Fine.”

He started again. “One…two…three.”

A second later, her body came flying down and he suddenly found himself with an armful of warm, soft woman. One hand had instinctively reached out to cup her bottom, and his palm now cradled a firm, perfectly round backside, as Marley Kincaid’s arms wound tightly around his neck.

She was breathing heavily, her body trembling a little. “You all right?” he asked. His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.

She nodded, tilting her head to look up at him. Her brown eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise as she examined his face. She checked him out for so long he felt a pang of discomfort. “You should really let someone else clean those gutters for you,” he grumbled.

Marley just stared at him, and then, to his extreme confusion, she started to laugh.

2

“SERIOUSLY,” HER SEXY SAVIOR said in a deep voice. “If you don’t tell me you’re okay in the next two seconds, I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I’m okay,” she sputtered.

God, this was priceless. Her laughter came out in soft waves, while adrenaline still pumped through her blood. She suddenly wondered if Gwen had somehow planned this, though that seemed totally unlikely. But come on, what were the chances? Her friend had been babbling about tall, dark, handsome strangers sweeping Marley off her feet, and all of a sudden, a tall, dark, handsome stranger shows up and sweeps her off her feet. Literally.

“Can I let you go now?” he asked, a tad brusquely.

Her laughter finally trailed off. She nodded, and he set her down. Her legs were still quite shaky after her brush with possible death, but her brain seemed to have forgotten about her roof gymnastics—it was too busy analyzing the beautiful man standing in front of her.

He had that chiseled kind of face you expected to see on a movie screen, lines and angles put together to create a rugged landscape, vivid eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean. A pair of faded jeans clung to his long legs and taut behind, while a navy-blue T-shirt emphasized a broad chest and delicious set of rippled abs.

No doubt about it, this was one ridiculously gorgeous man.

Her heart did a few somersaults. “Thanks for catching me,” she said.

“No problem.” He took a step backward, looking like he couldn’t wait to get out of here. “Be more careful next time, all right?” Another step. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait, who did you say you were again?”

“I’m Caleb Ford.” His blue eyes flickering with weariness, he extended his hand. “I’m renting the house next door to yours.” As if to confirm it, he gestured to the redbrick side wall of the Strathorn house.

Since he was sticking his hand out at her, she had no choice but to shake it. The moment they touched, warmth suffused her palm, followed by a spark of awareness. Gosh, this guy was attractive. The messy black hair, the serious blue eyes, the drool-worthy bod. And his hand felt good on hers. Too good.

She quickly snatched it away, leery of the awareness sliding around in her body. Fine, so this guy was incredibly handsome, but he was also a total stranger. And the Strathorns hadn’t told her they were renting their place out for the summer. She knew they were in Europe—they’d asked her to pick up their mail. So why hadn’t they mentioned someone named Caleb Ford would be staying in their house?

“How do you know the Strathorns?”

Her voice held a note of suspicion, which she didn’t attempt to hide. Since her experience with Patrick, she was far more careful about handing out her trust to strangers.

“Through a mutual friend. I heard they were going to Europe for a few months, so my friend arranged for me to rent this place while they’re gone.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” She casually pushed a strand of blond hair off her forehead. Her ponytail had pretty much come apart after her near fall, and unruly blond waves kept getting in her eyes. “Isn’t Stan and Debbie’s house terrific? They have a lot of antiques in there.”

Caleb arched one dark brow. “Stu and Debbie, you mean.”

“Right, Stu, I don’t know why I said Stan.” She felt a little flustered, especially when a knowing glint filled his eyes. He knew exactly what she’d tried to do, but hey, at least he’d passed the test. So why was he still all fidgety?

“When did you say you moved in?” she asked, watching him carefully.

“I didn’t. But it’s been a week.”

A week? And she hadn’t seen him even once? She tried to rein in her misgivings. Okay, so maybe he didn’t leave the house a lot. He could be one of those hermit types who liked being alone indoors.

“And you’re here for the summer?” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Yep.”

“On vacation?” she pressed.

“Work-related, actually.”

For Pete’s sake, getting answers from this man was like pulling teeth. She paused for a second, trying to concoct a way to draw some more details out of him, when a flash of red caught her eye. She glanced down, surprised to see an angry-looking scrape on her upper arm. She must have cut herself when she’d grabbed for the ledge, or maybe on her way down into Caleb’s arms.

“Shoot, I should get this cleaned up,” she said.

“Do you need any help?”

His voice was so full of reluctance she almost felt insulted. Jeez, was the thought of spending even a few more minutes with her that unappealing?

She frowned. “I’m a nurse, I can take care of it. But thanks.”

Caleb slung his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shifting awkwardly. “You better go in and get that taken care of. Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself anywhere else?”

She examined her arms and legs, then flexed her back, wincing when a jolt of pain sliced up her left shoulder. “I think I pulled a muscle,” she answered, “but it’s nothing some yoga can’t fix this evening.”

Caleb coughed abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrinkling her brow.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, fine.” He began to inch away again. Lord, the way this guy acted, it was as if she was carrying the Ebola virus or something. “I really do have to go. Take care of yourself, uh…?”

“Marley,” she supplied.

“Marley,” he echoed. He lifted his hand, giving a stilted wave and a brisk nod, and then hurried off with long, smooth strides.

She watched as he walked away, shaking her head to herself. He disappeared around the side of the house and a few moments later, she heard the Strathorns’ front door shut.

Okay. Well, that was kind of weird. He was probably telling the truth, and really was renting the house next door, but maybe she ought to call the number Debbie had left for her just to make sure Caleb Ford was who he said he was. He’d been acting a little odd for her liking.

Yeah, she definitely should call, she decided as she bent down to take care of the ladder. She pushed it to the wall, leaning it length-wise against the house, then glanced down at her arm, which was beginning to ooze blood.

With a sigh, she headed into the house, making a mental note to contact Debbie Strathorn as soon as possible. Caleb Ford might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he was still a stranger.

And these days, Marley’s guard went on high alert when it came to sexy men who made her heart skip a beat.

A girl couldn’t be too cautious, after all.

“SO…WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?”

Caleb nearly tripped over his own feet at the sound of AJ’s voice. He’d expected to find the master bedroom empty, but AJ was casually sitting at the desk, sipping from a tall Starbucks cup.

With his military-style buzz cut, tattooed arms and black leather jacket, Adam James Callaghan looked like the type of guy Caleb would be slapping handcuffs on and dragging to jail.

But AJ was a damn good agent, a bit of a legend around the Drug Enforcement Agency. He’d spent three years undercover with a Colombian drug cartel, which was how he’d gotten all the tattoos. Had to prove himself, show he was one of them, AJ had told Caleb. He’d also managed to gather enough evidence to take down the entire organization. But now he was stateside, assigned as Caleb’s new partner.

Caleb walked over to the desk and peered at the monitors, instantly spotting Marley in the kitchen. She was pulling a first-aid kit out of the cupboard under the sink.

“What was what about?” he asked, absently reaching for one of the steaming cups sitting in the cardboard tray on the desk.

AJ shot him a look loaded with disbelief. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I come back from a coffee run to find—”

“You came in from the back, right?” Caleb cut in.

“Yes, I came in from the back. Same way I’ve been coming in for the past week. And yes, I parked the car two streets over. And no, nobody saw me when I cut through the park on my way here.” AJ frowned. “Now quit interrogating me and tell me what the hell you were thinking, making contact with Kincaid.”

Caleb walked over to the king-size bed and sank down onto the edge. “She fell off a ladder.”

AJ swiveled his chair around to face him. “She fell off a ladder,” he repeated.

“Yes, but she managed to hang on to the roof. She would have fallen off that, too, if I hadn’t gone out to help her.” The defensive note in his voice made him want to cringe, but he knew AJ’s thoughts on the subject of Marley Kincaid. And none of them were too positive.

AJ put down his coffee cup in obvious annoyance. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, we’re on a stakeout, man. The whole point of a stakeout is remaining out of sight, inconspicuous.”

“I know that,” Caleb ground out. “But what did you want me to do, watch her tumble to her death?”

“What I want you to do is focus on the bastard that killed one of our own.” AJ frowned. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, Caleb, and I don’t particularly like it, all right? She might very well be helping Grier and you know it.”

“Yes, and she might not be helping him,” Caleb countered, meeting his partner’s hard gaze with one of his own.

“Then explain the hundred grand that was wired into her bank account after the DEA got the tip that Grier was heading to San Diego.”

“It was a joint account, you know that. Grier could’ve made the deposit as easily as Kincaid.”

“And she has no knowledge of what’s going on in her own bank accounts? If a hundred thousand dollars mysteriously wound up in my account, I’d be talking to the bank, or calling the cops. Unless I know my slime-bag ex put it in there, and I’m planning on helping him get out of the country.”

Caleb’s jaw tightened at the thought of Grier taking off and disappearing. Oh, no, not happening. Caleb would catch the son of a bitch long before that happened. The DEA finally had hard evidence on the guy, after years of being unable to bring charges against the supposed web designer. Three months ago, an informant inside the Ruiz cartel—the Brazilian outfit they’d been trying to bust for years—had provided information about a shipment Grier was scheduled to distribute for the Ruizes.

Only, the raid they’d organized hadn’t gone as planned, and Grier had yet again escaped arrest.

“If she’s helping Grier, we’ll find out,” Caleb replied. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe she’s involved, maybe she’s not. But don’t paint her with Grier’s brush until we have some proof.”

Even as he said the words, he knew AJ wouldn’t heed them. His partner believed in Marley’s guilt. Caleb, on the other hand…he was ninety percent sure Marley wasn’t involved in any of this. He didn’t quite believe Marley was in cahoots with Grier now, or that she’d been aware of his actions then. Grier was smooth, and according to his file, he’d fooled women before. Killed them, too, or at least he’d been suspected of it.

Still, ninety percent meant there was still that ten percent of doubt floating around in his head. He didn’t want to believe Marley was somehow funneling money into her ex’s hands, but it wasn’t something he could rule out, either. At least their presence next door ensured they’d see Grier if he showed up.

“And if she’s not involved,” Caleb added, “she could be in danger. You know what happened to Grier’s previous girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she found out he was a criminal and tried to help the cops.”

“Her dead body wound up in a Dumpster in Nevada, for Chrissake.”

AJ sighed. “And I’m sorry that happened to her, but at least she was trying to take down Grier. Kincaid, on the other hand…I don’t know, man, the hundred grand in that bank account makes me mighty reluctant to trust her.”

“Well, you don’t have to trust her. You just need to watch her.” Unwittingly, Caleb snuck another peek at the monitor, where Marley had finished bandaging her cut. She was now in the second-floor bedroom, fixing her ponytail.

He wished he could find out exactly what was going on in her head. He needed to know more than what these brief glimpses provided. First and foremost, had she truly been oblivious to her fiancé’s criminal activities?

Yet there were other questions he’d also love to get the answers to. Like what had she seen in Grier in the first place? Why was she doing all these renovations on her house by herself? What did she look like naked?

Caleb stifled a groan. It always seemed to come back to that, didn’t it? Marley Kincaid’s incredibly appealing body. It was the tease of watching, but not really seeing. Catching glimpses of her breasts in silhouette, but never knowing exactly what color her nipples were, never knowing how those firm mounds would feel in his palms or rubbing against his chest, pressed up to his mouth….

Jeez, AJ was right. This attraction really was getting out of hand.

“Grier will show up soon,” Caleb declared. “Whether Marley is helping him doesn’t matter. My gut tells me he’s going to come for her.”

AJ didn’t look convinced. “You know I usually have the utmost respect for an agent’s gut, but how are you so sure? I’ve read his file, Caleb, and he doesn’t form attachments. He uses people, then walks away.”

“She’s different.” Caleb’s voice grew quiet. “He never moved in with anyone before, never proposed marriage, never opened a damned joint savings account. I’m telling you, AJ, he’ll come for her.”

“He’d better,” AJ said with a trace of bitterness. “That bastard needs to pay for what he did to Russ.”

The sound of Russ’s name brought a deep ache to Caleb’s chest. He hadn’t had many friends growing up—being carted from foster home to foster home put a cramp in a guy’s social life—but Russell Delacroix had been the exception. Caleb had met Russ at a group home when he was sixteen, and the two of them developed a friendship that had thrived for years. Russ had been the one who convinced him to join the DEA, and they’d been partners for eight years.

As long as he lived, Caleb knew he’d never forget the sight of Russ’s body crumpling to the cold ground of that warehouse three months ago. Even now, the memory of Russ’s blood staining the dirty floor sent a wave of rage through Caleb’s gut.

Russ had been family, a brother. And losing him to a drug dealer had been a crushing blow.

Caleb tried to swallow the ball of fury lodged in his throat. “He’ll pay,” he said hoarsely. “He will show up here, I know it, and when he does, we’ll be waiting.”

AJ leaned back in the chair, giving a satisfied nod. “Nice to hear you have your priorities straight.”

Caleb bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ve been lusting after your cute nurse for a week now, and I’m glad you’re still able to remember why we’re here.” AJ’s voice took on an admiring note. Glancing at the screen, he let out a soft whistle. “Though I’ve gotta admit, she’s fun to watch.”

Caleb followed AJ’s gaze, then stifled a groan. Marley had just come out of the walk-in closet in her bedroom, wearing black Spandex pants that hugged her shapely legs, while a tight yellow tank top stretched across her full, perky breasts.

Caleb’s fingers curled into fists. A jolt of desire shot straight to his cock and turned it to granite. He knew Marley’s routine to a T now, and when she put on the Spandex…that meant only one thing was about to happen.

Sexy yoga time.

He tore his eyes off the screen. “Have you made any progress figuring out where the money came from?”

AJ shook his head. “Still can’t trace it.”

Releasing a heavy breath, Caleb got to his feet and approached the desk. “Then we keep waiting.”

“So, what, we sit around for another week, waiting for something to happen? How long is Stevens going to let this stakeout go on?”

“I don’t know. But as long as we’re here, all we can do is wait.”

“For what?” AJ sounded frustrated. “There’s been no activity in the account since the wire transfer, no appearances by Grier, no phone calls, nada. What do you suggest we do?”

“We keep watching,” Caleb said, shrugging.

You mean torturing yourself.

He allowed himself another peek at the screen, swallowing when he noticed the sensual workout had begun. She always started out with sexy stretches that showcased her legs and emphasized her sleek calf muscles, followed by a series of little pelvic tilts that never failed to hold his undivided attention. Oh, and look at that, now she had her hands and feet on the mat, ass thrust up into the air.

Caleb smothered a groan. How much more of this could he take? He was only a man, after all. A thirty-one-year-old single man who’d always had a healthy appetite when it came to sex.

And the woman on the screen, with her lithe body and floor gymnastics, just screamed sex. The proximity of their houses, separated by mere yards, only made the situation worse. It was only ten steps from his porch to hers. Ten steps, and he could be at her door…in her bed…

“Maybe making contact wasn’t such a bad idea,” AJ said suddenly.

Caleb’s head jerked up. “What are you talking about? You just chewed me out for that.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking at it from another angle. You already laid some of the groundwork today,” AJ said, a thoughtful look entering his harsh features. “You saved her life, chatted her up. Sure, she thinks you’re a total weirdo, but—”

“What do you mean, she thinks I’m a weirdo?”

His partner shrugged. “You were like a panicked little rabbit out there. Seriously, you kept inching away, like you were going to bolt any second. I saw the look on her face, man. She’s suspicious of you. And she thinks you’re weird.” AJ offered a big grin. “Fortunately, you’re going to fix that by going over there tomorrow.”

Caleb faltered. He didn’t reply for a moment, running the idea through his mind. “No,” he finally said.

“Why not? All you’ve gotta do is befriend her, get her to open up and figure out what she knows about Grier.”

AJ made it sound like the easiest task on the planet, which, for AJ, it probably was. Despite his scary biker looks, AJ was never hurting for female company. Not Caleb, though. His problem wasn’t finding female company; it was making sure nobody ever got too close. He liked his women the way he liked his cars—fast, bold and temporary. No strings, no hassles and definitely no relationships. He’d learned the hard way the price you paid when you formed attachments to people.

And he didn’t want to get close to Marley Kincaid. His attraction to her had already proven too big a hassle—why make it worse?

“I won’t sleep with her to find out what she knows about Grier,” he grumbled.

“Who said anything about sleeping with her? Uh, one-track mind?” AJ snorted. “All I said was become friends with her. She cut her arm, right? Go over there tomorrow to make sure she’s okay.”

Caleb studied the monitor with a frown. The bedroom was now empty, but light spilled from underneath the closed bathroom door. Another part of the routine, a long shower after sexy yoga.

Indecision rippled inside him. Should he do this? It had been kind of amusing, talking to her outside. She had a great sense of humor, and she also happened to be the most beautiful woman Caleb had ever seen. Plus he was wildly attracted to her. An attraction that could equal trouble.

But AJ had a point. Caleb’s supervisor, Ken Stevens, was a good man, but he wasn’t known for his patience. If this stakeout didn’t produce any results, if Grier didn’t show up soon, Stevens would pull them out. Making contact with Marley and finding out if she knew anything might help move the case along. Hell, it might be the only way to keep the case alive.

“I guess I can do that,” he said slowly. “Just to see if she knows something.”

Right, because her fresh-faced beauty and killer body have nothing to do with it.

“You’re a professional,” AJ said, as if he knew where Caleb’s thoughts had drifted. “Keep it casual, dig around and hopefully she leads us to Grier.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

AJ let out a frustrated sigh that revealed precisely how he felt about his next words. “Then we go back to waiting.”

EMERGING FROM THE SHADOWS, Patrick Grier deftly hopped the fence leading into the backyard of the house across the street from Marley’s. Darkness bathed the yard, which only helped his cause as he crept toward the back door. He’d purposely waited for the sun to set, killing time on a pier a few miles from here. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing him in this neighborhood. A contact of his had warned him the cops were still watching Marley. Otherwise he would’ve broken into her house months ago. But he had to play it safe. Getting caught wouldn’t help him or Marley one damn bit.

The door swung open easily when he turned the knob, and he stepped into the dark house. The temptation to run across the street to see Marley was so strong his legs started to itch. He swiftly fought the urge. He didn’t have a death wish, after all.

Breaking into this house had been risky enough, but fortunately he knew the old bat who lived here. He’d spoken to Lydia White several times when he’d lived across the street, and during their talks he’d learned she lived alone and had zero family. No friends, either, though that wasn’t a surprise considering her foul personality.

But even bitches had to eat.

Tucking the deli bag under his arm, Patrick headed upstairs without turning on any lights. The spare bedroom at the end of the hall had a perfect view of Marley’s place, and when he peeked out the window, he noticed her bedroom light was on. Was she lying in bed, thinking of him?

Turning away from the window, he strode to the narrow closet and flung the door open. A pair of wide brown eyes greeted him, along with the muffled screams of Lydia White as she wiggled around on the closet floor like a scared puppy.

Patrick scrunched up his nose when the faint odor of urine drifted into his nostrils. “You couldn’t hold it for a day?” he spat out.

The old lady whimpered, terror filling her wrinkled face.

Gritting his teeth, Patrick bent down and hauled her up so that she was sitting. He yanked off the duct tape stuck to her mouth. “Open your mouth, I brought you some grub. And remember what I said about screaming.” As a reminder, he half turned to show her the black 9mm sticking out of his waistband.

Another whimper.

Ripping the wax paper covering the ham sandwich he’d picked up, he lifted one half to the lady’s mouth and practically forced it down her wrinkled old throat. She objected at first, but then began to chew, unable to resist the first form of nourishment she’d had since he’d left the house early this morning.

He stifled a curse as he fed the old bat, wishing he could just kill her and be done with it. But he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. No, he only killed when his own survival was threatened. Besides, he needed old Lydia around to answer the phone when some rare person called—while Patrick held a gun to her head, of course.

So far, Lydia had followed instructions like a pro. And using her house as his base of operations was ideal. For the moment.

“Here,” he barked, uncapping a bottle of water and bringing it to Lydia’s mouth.

The elderly woman drank fervently, but the glimmer of fear never once left her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped. “I told you, I won’t be here long. I’m just making some arrangements and then I’ll be gone.”

And so would Marley. No way was he leaving her behind. She was the love of his life, after all. So unbelievably different from the fast and loose women in his past. He’d known it the second she’d walked into his hospital room in her green scrubs, with that gentle smile on her face.

His smile dissolved into a frown as he thought about all the shit that had gone down three months ago. He still experienced an onslaught of rage every time he remembered what had happened in the warehouse. Damn cops. The shipment they’d intercepted had cost him millions of dollars. Not to mention that they’d officially made it impossible for him ever to live in the States again.

Tomorrow morning, he planned on driving to Tijuana to meet with a guy who was arranging the necessary papers, and he was still working on a way to contact Marley. Once he did, he could get hold of the money he’d hidden in her house. He’d stashed two hundred grand under her bathroom floor three days after he moved in; it was part of his routine—always have an exit strategy in case you need one.

And then there was the hundred grand in his and Marley’s joint account. Earlier this week a European contact who owed him money had transferred the dough in there, since the feds had frozen all of Patrick’s personal accounts and he didn’t have the resources yet to open anything new. He wasn’t sure why they’d left the joint account open—his instincts told him it was a trap—but if he could, he planned on transferring the amount to a bank in the Caymans when he secured the necessary ID papers.

Once he got the cash from Marley’s house, though, he was outta here.

And Marley was going with him.

Sure she is, came the cynical voice in his head. Women always love men who betray them.

“She does love me,” Patrick insisted, wishing he could punch that bothersome voice. “And she’ll forgive me for lying to her. Marley doesn’t stay angry at people, it’s not her way.”

He noticed the old lady staring up at him with eyes as big as saucers. Had he spoken out loud?

“She does, you know,” he said to Lydia. “Love me, I mean.”

The certainty surrounding his heart was as strong as steel, causing the worry in his gut to dissolve. Of course Marley would forgive him. She was still his. All he had to do was find a way to get to her. And once he had the cash, he was going to whisk Marley away to a place where nobody could ever tear them apart again.

3

“OKAY, SO HERE’S WHAT you’re going to do,” Gwen said, tightening the drawstring on her bright pink scrubs.

Marley flopped onto the narrow bench in the nurse’s locker room and bent down to untie her shoelaces. “What are you talking about?”

“Your neighbor.”

“You’re still hung up on this?” Marley frowned. “I told you, he’s kind of strange.”

“But you said he was cute.” Gwen grinned. “And he caught you when you did a swan dive off the roof.”

“Fine, he gets two points for that. And then minus three points for being aloof. I swear, he couldn’t wait to get away from me.”

“But you spoke to Debbie, right?”

Marley nodded. “Before I left for work. She said she and Stu did rent the house, to a writer from New York, and, yes, his name is Caleb Ford.”

“Well, there you go, he was telling the truth.”

“Yeah, but…Something about him was really off.”

“So he’s shy. Which is why you need to make a move,” Gwen answered as she tied her curly hair in a loose twist at the top of her head. “Tonight you’re going to walk next door and ask for a cup of sugar.”

Marley laughed. “No way. That’s so lame.”

“Wait, I’m not done. So you ask for the sugar, and then you bat your eyelashes and say, ‘Actually, maybe I can give you some sugar instead.’ One thing will lead to another and presto! You get laid and forget all about Patrick.”

Marley shot her friend a firm look. “I’m not going to seduce my neighbor.”

“Then at least promise to keep an open mind,” Gwen pleaded. “There’s no harm in saying hi to the guy next time you see him. Just don’t be afraid of some flirting, or heck, even a casual conversation. Oh, and could you please come out with me and Nick on Tuesday? We’re going to the salsa bar. It’ll be a good time.”

“I’ll let you know.” Marley took a step toward the locker room door. “I gotta go. My feet are killing me and I’m craving a long, hot bubble bath.”

Gwen sighed. “I hate the night shift,” she complained as she followed Marley out the door. “You’re so lucky you’re going home.”

“Yeah, to sleep,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m coming back for the graveyard shift, while you get to spend the night with your boyfriend.”

“Good point.”

They said goodbye in the hallway, and Marley headed for the elevator, her flip-flops snapping against the white linoleum floor.

When she exited the hospital, the early-evening air was warm, and she breathed it in, enjoying the fresh scent of salt and palm trees. She loved San Diego—the heat, the laid-back atmosphere, the ocean. She hadn’t been to the beach in ages, she realized as she crossed the parking lot to her car. The renovations in her house were tedious and left little time for trips to the beach.

But maybe Gwen was right. Maybe it was time to quit using her house as an excuse not to go out and have fun. God knew she needed some fun after the past year.

Before she could start the car, her cell phone burst out in the Pussycat Dolls ringtone Gwen had downloaded as a joke. Her brother’s number flashed on the screen, causing Marley to stifle a groan. Sam still hadn’t come back to finish the closet he’d half gutted, and she had a feeling she was in for another excuse.

Sighing, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”

“I wanted to touch base with you about the closet.”

“Finally. So when are you coming to finish it?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. It’ll probably have to be at the end of the week.”

“Why not earlier?”

“No time. We’ve got a massive renovation to finish this week, kiddo.”

Marley rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me kiddo. I’m three years older than you, Sammy.”

“On paper, maybe. But in maturity, I win.”

“In your dreams.”

“See how immature you are? Only ten-year-olds say ‘in your dreams.’” He suddenly sounded contrite. “I’ll try to make it earlier, since you’re being so difficult.”

“What’s difficult is having to jump over a huge hole in the floor every time I walk down my hall,” she countered.

“I’ll fix it soon, I promise. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk this week, ’kay?”

“Hot date?” she teased.

“Yep.”

Marley grinned to herself. “Should I bother asking for her name or will she be but a mere speed bump in the road that is your love life?”

“Very poetic. And the answer is we’ll see,” Sam said mysteriously. “I’ll talk to you later, kiddo.”

They hung up, and Marley was still smiling as she started the car and left the hospital staff lot. Sam always managed to brighten her day. They hadn’t been very close growing up. He’d been the epitome of a pesky little brother, what with his unfunny pranks and that God-awful, year-long “why?” phase. Oh, and she most definitely hadn’t appreciated the time he’d squeezed purple hair dye into her shampoo bottle. Permanent hair dye. But after their mother died, they’d banded together to console their dad, and a bond had formed. Now, Marley couldn’t imagine not having Sammy in her life.

Turning onto the main street, she headed in the direction of home. As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed a shiny black Range Rover parked next door and her heart gave an involuntary jump. She thought of Caleb Ford’s piercing blue eyes and lean, muscular body, then pushed the memory of her neighbor from her mind. She parked and climbed the rickety porch steps, her feet aching the entire time. Forget yoga tonight—she was heading straight to the bathtub and staying in there for hours.

Kicking off her flip-flops, she closed the door, hopped over the stack of two-by-fours on the floor and made a beeline for the narrow staircase. The moment she reached the top step, the doorbell chimed, startling the hell out of her.

Sighing, she headed back downstairs, determined to get rid of whoever had rung the bell. No one she knew would show up unannounced, so it was probably someone selling newspaper subscriptions or something equally annoying, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that right now. She paused in front of the door and peered into the peephole.

A shaky breath flew out of her mouth when she found Caleb Ford’s blue eyes peering back at her.

Shoot. She was so not prepared for a visit from the hottie next door. She had convertible hair, wasn’t wearing a spot of makeup and she hadn’t even bothered putting on a bra when she’d changed out of her nursing scrubs.

But she couldn’t not answer the door. He knew she was home. He’d probably seen her pull up just now.

The doorbell rang a second time.

Maybe she shouldn’t answer it all. She didn’t know this guy—just because he was renting the house next door, that didn’t make them buddies. She didn’t owe him anything.

Actually, you do. He helped you escape death.

A sharp knock rapped against the door, making her jump. Wow, this guy was overeager, wasn’t he?

Taking a deep breath, she finally reached for the knob and opened the door. And then there he was, standing on her porch and looking even sexier than she remembered.

He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his faded blue jeans. The stance just screamed cool, emphasized by the way the sun was setting directly behind him. Dark oranges and reds lit up the sky, and in turn cast a ruddy glow over him. He looked like a cowboy in the Wild West, standing in the sunset.

Vivid imagination, Marley.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Caleb asked in a deep sexy voice that made her shiver despite the balmy breeze drifting into the hall.

She shook the cobwebs from her mind and tried to remember what she’d been doing before being assaulted by his sex appeal. “I was about to take a bath,” she admitted.

Something flickered in his eyes. Heat?

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I interrupted you. I came by to see about your arm.”

“My arm?” Then she remembered, and glanced down at the bandage covering the cut. “It’s fine, just a scrape.”

“Oh,” he said again, shifting awkwardly. “I guess I’ll go then. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Promise to keep an open mind. Be open to some flirting, or heck, even a casual conversation.

Gwen’s words buzzed in her head. She hesitated. Okay, maybe she could manage some light-hearted small talk, a flirty remark or two. It wouldn’t kill her. He was obviously trying to be nice, coming over to check on her.

Besides, did she really want to send away the first man who’d made her feel anything close to desire in months?

“The bath can wait a little while longer,” she found herself saying. “Do you want to come in for a quick cup of coffee?”

He nodded. “Sure, if it’s no trouble.”

“None at all.” She opened the door wider. As he stepped into her narrow front hall, she felt overpowered by the sheer maleness of him. He was at least six-two, his big firm body dominating the small space. Before she could stop herself, she imagined that big firm body dominating her, and her breasts immediately ached, her nipples poking out against the front of her tank top. She wasn’t surprised when Caleb’s eyes dropped to her chest, lingering only for a second.

And with that one brief look, a rush of heat filled her body. She was rooted in place, watching his face as he watched her, and for a moment she experienced a sense of familiarity. As if they knew each other. There was something unbelievably intimate about his gaze.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, the kitchen’s this way.”

Caleb followed her down the hall, keeping a respectful distance behind her. As they entered her kitchen, she experienced a twinge of embarrassment at the chaos in the large airy space. Last weekend she’d scraped off most of the awful flower-patterned wallpaper the previous owners had described as charming in the real estate listing, and the walls were now bare. Paint cans sat near the splintered oak counter, which she needed to replace, and since she planned on painting the pantry, too, all the food from there rested in boxes against the wall. The room was a disaster.

“Sorry for the mess,” she apologized. “I’m doing some renovating.”

He raised a brow. “On your own?”

“Yep,” she replied, gesturing for him to sit at the table tucked in the corner of the room. “I’m about to start the kitchen, which leaves me with, oh, every other room in the house.”

Caleb’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. Marley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow. This man definitely needed to do that more often.

He sank into one of the tall-backed chairs and crossed his ankles. “You’re a do-it-yourself type then.”

“Of course. It’s not fun hiring someone to do the job for you.” She shrugged. “Way more satisfying knowing that I did the work.”

She flicked on the coffeemaker and opened the cupboard above the sink, pulling out two mugs. “So what brought a New Yorker all the way across the country?”

There was a long pause, and then he chuckled. “Checking up on me, huh?”

She turned around and met his knowing look. “What?”

“I never told you I was from New York.”

Heat scorched her cheeks. Shoot. Totally busted. How could she slip up like that?

“I called Debbie in Paris,” she admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were on the up and up. They didn’t mention a renter before they left.”

“It was a last-minute thing,” he said, not offering further explanation.

The coffee machine clicked, and she poured the hot liquid into the mugs, glancing over at him. “Let me guess, you take yours black.”

His lips twitched. “How’d you know?”

“Just a feeling.” She dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into her cup, then walked over to the table and handed him his. Rather than sitting, she leaned against the counter again, blowing on her coffee to cool it.

“You’re just going to hover over me like that?” Caleb asked.

“I hate sitting down,” she confessed. “Probably because of my job. I’m on my feet all day, and I’ve gotten used to it. I go a little stir crazy when I’m in a chair.”

“So…” He held his cup in one hand, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Do you usually make sure everyone you meet is on the up and up?”

The blush returned to her cheeks. “Not really. I just…well, I like the Strathorns and I wanted to make sure…” Her voice trailed, and she made a wry face. “Sorry, I guess I’ve been having some trust issues lately.”

He appeared to mull over her remark, then raised his mug to his lips. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, her stomach doing a funny little flip. Caleb Ford oozed masculinity, even when he drank. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d be like that in bed, controlled, powerful.

As if he’d read her mind, he locked his eyes with hers. Little sparks danced along Marley’s skin. There were sparks in the air, too. Hard to ignore them, zinging back and forth between her and Caleb, heating her skin. Breaking the eye contact, she distracted herself by taking another sip of coffee.

“Yeah, I know all about those. Trust issues,” he clarified with a shrug. “To be honest, trust isn’t something I’m good at.”

She was suddenly curious. “Giving it, or getting it?”

“A little of both, probably.”

Before she could press for details, he glanced around the room, taking in the paint supplies scattered on the tiled floor. “So you’re starting with the painting first?” When she nodded, he said, “What else are you planning to do?”

Considering the grief Gwen had given her about these renovations yesterday, it was nice talking to someone who actually seemed interested. Before she could stop herself, she launched into a recitation of everything she planned to fix up. She was vaguely aware that she’d gone into babbling mode, but hey, at least it helped her ignore the rampant flames of sexual attraction threatening to burn down her kitchen.

CALEB WAS HAVING a very tough time keeping his eyes off Marley. Leaning against the counter in her faded jeans and curve-hugging tank top, with her golden hair up in a messy ponytail and her bare feet, she made a seriously alluring picture.

Her mere proximity made his body burn. Despite the odor of paint fumes lingering in the air, he could also make out a more subtle fragrance. Strawberries. The feminine aroma drove him wild. So did her legs, encased in that stretchy denim, and damn but she had cute feet—small and dainty with bright-pink toenails.

He imagined those legs wrapped around him, her heels digging into his buttocks, and fought back a moan.

It had been a mistake coming here. He was pretty good at talking women into going to bed with him, but just talking to them? He sucked at it.

He sipped his coffee, using the pause in the conversation to figure out his next move. Okay, so he’d made contact, but sitting around in Marley’s kitchen wouldn’t land him any answers. He needed to get her talking about Grier. But though he’d been watching her for more than a week now, to her he was a stranger. And women didn’t open up to complete strangers.

He glanced at the sliding door on the other side of the kitchen, pretending to admire her backyard while he planned what to say. The sight of the oak tree in Marley’s fenced-in yard brought a flicker of guilt, as he realized AJ had set up one of their cameras in the tree’s enormous branches. As if someone wanted to hammer the point home, the branches rustled, sending a few leaves fluttering down to the grass.

Caleb shifted his eyes back to Marley. He opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. “Excuse me,” he said as he fished his cell out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID, saw AJ’s number and stifled a curse. “Do you mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead.”

He flipped open the phone and said, “Hey, Vic, what’s up?”

“I thought you were going to make contact later tonight,” AJ hissed.

“I was, but I decided to work on the chapters earlier,” Caleb said smoothly.

AJ let out an expletive. “I need you to get her out of the kitchen.”

“Are you still in New York?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Marley discreetly move to the sink to rinse out her mug.

“I’m in the freaking tree out back. Looking at your ugly face as we speak,” came the heated whisper.

It took all of Caleb’s willpower not to look through the sliding door again. Evidently the rustling he’d seen in the tree hadn’t come from a mischievous squirrel. The image of AJ’s huge leather-clad body up in those branches nearly brought a laugh to the surface, but he quickly clamped it down.

“What are you doing in Florida?” he asked with great interest. AJ had left the house next door an hour ago to grab some groceries. Now he was in Marley’s backyard?

“I was coming back and saw the camera dangling from one of the branches. Must have gotten dislodged. She always goes upstairs and does the yoga/shower thing after work so I figured I had time to fix the camera before she saw it, but then you just had to show up and bring her into the kitchen. And now I’m in the tree. The end.”

“Bird sanctuary, huh? Can’t say that’s my cup of tea.”

AJ swore again. “Just get her out of the kitchen so I can hightail it back next door.”

“Sure thing, Vic. I’ll email you the chapters by the end of the week so you’ll have them when you get back from your vacation.”

Caleb hung up the phone and rose to his feet, just as Marley rounded the counter again. To his dismay, she headed right for the patio door and peered out.

He came up behind her. “What are you looking at?” he asked as casually as he could muster.

“I heard you say something about birds,” she answered with a sideways glance. “It reminded me that I haven’t put seed in my bird feeder for a few days.”

She extended a dainty hand, pointing at the bright red bird feeder hanging from the largest branch on the elm. “I made it myself,” she added. “The sparrows love it.”

Panic rose up Caleb’s spine, mostly because he could now see one of AJ’s black biker boots camouflaged in the leaves. “I should go,” he burst out.

She wrinkled her brow. “Oh. Okay.”

“That phone call,” he said in an attempt to explain his abrupt exclamation. “I’m a writer, and my agent reminded me I need to revise a few chapters. So, uh, yeah, I should go do that.”

Moving away from the patio door, Marley nodded. “I’ll walk you—” She tripped over one of the paint cans on the floor, letting out an unladylike curse as she stumbled forward.

Snapping to action, Caleb reached out to steady her.

And regretted it the second his palms made contact with her hips. Her tank top had ridden up, and he was touching skin. Bare, warm skin, so soft that he hissed in a breath.

“I…” Marley’s voice drifted and her mouth fell open when she caught sight of the obvious desire in his eyes.

He could do nothing to hide the swift response. Her flesh felt like heaven under his hands, and that sweet scent wafting into his nose was far too intoxicating.

He coughed ever so slightly. “You all right?”

She nodded wordlessly, then glanced down at his hands, which were still on her waist. God help him, but he couldn’t seem to let her go.

And she wasn’t complaining. Rather, she shifted so they were face to face. Her liquid brown eyes searched his. “I’m…a klutz,” she murmured without breaking the eye contact.

Caleb swallowed, his mouth in desperate need of moisture, his lips in desperate need of her. Before he could stop himself, he moved his hand over her hip in a fleeting caress. An unsteady breath slid out of her throat.

Insanity. This was freaking insanity, and he was helpless to stop it. He’d been watching Marley Kincaid for seven days, watching and yearning and fighting the arousal he knew he shouldn’t be feeling.

But he couldn’t fight it now. Not when she was this close.

As his pulse drummed in his ears, he finally gave up. Screw it. Kissing her was wrong on so many levels, but at this point he didn’t care. He wanted her so badly his bones ached.

So he took her.

4

MARLEY LET OUT a little gasp as he captured her mouth with his, but the second their lips met, she melted in his arms. He thrust his fingers into her hair, angling her head for better access, while he slid his other hand to her waist and drew her body to his.

She made a gentle, keening sound against his mouth, and then lifted her arms to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Her lips parted, her tongue darted out to toy with his and Caleb nearly keeled over from the jolt of desire that shot through him.

She tasted incredible. Like coffee, cinnamon and heaven and he couldn’t get enough of her. He deepened the kiss, drowning in her scent. Damn it, he hadn’t known it would be so uncontrollable.

A muffled thud sounded from outside. Marley must have heard it, too, because her eyelids fluttered open at the same time as his.

And then she was out of his arms.

His arms felt empty without her warm supple body in them, his mouth going dry when seconds before it had been moist from the tip of Marley’s tongue teasing his lips. Even as his body tried to recover from that unbelievable kiss, his brain went back to business, directing his line of vision to the now-empty yard. Relief coursed through him. AJ had managed The Great Escape.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I…” She tucked an errant blond strand behind her ear. “It’s fine. Just unexpected.”

Understatement of the year. What had he been thinking, kissing her? He’d wanted to distract her, and instead, he’d opened Pandora’s damn box, because now that he’d tasted Marley, he wanted nothing more than to do it again.

Information. You just need information from her.

Drawing in a breath, Caleb willed his desire away. “I should go,” he said.

Something flickered in her eyes. Finally, she just nodded, and they stepped out of the kitchen. He saw her wringing her hands together as she walked. “So you’re a writer, huh?”

He almost laughed. It seemed ridiculous making small talk now, after the explosive kiss they’d just shared. “Yeah, I’m, uh, working on my first novel.”

“That’s cool.”

When they reached the front hall, he glanced down at the two-by-fours on the floor, then the gutted closet. “You sure this isn’t a safety hazard?” he asked in a dry voice.

She sighed. “My brother keeps promising to finish it, but he never seems to get around to it.”

Caleb ran a hand through his hair, pausing near the front door. “I did some construction a few years back.”

The admission came out of nowhere, but at least it wasn’t a lie, like his writer cover story. He had done a lot of construction before he joined the DEA.

“I could help you with some of the renovations.” Gruffly, he added, “If you’d like.”

Marley seemed to hesitate. “No, I couldn’t let you do that. You’re here to work on a novel.”

“It’s really no trouble.” Damn, why was he insisting?

Information.

Right, it had nothing to do with her stunning face and endless supply of curves. He needed to find out what she knew about Grier. If she even knew anything. AJ thought she did, but Caleb wasn’t certain, not after he’d spent some time with her. Everything about Marley seemed so genuine, so refreshing. How did she do it, continue to smile and laugh and live her life after what Patrick Grier had done to her? Unless AJ was right, and she was still in contact with Grier, sticking by him, moving money around to help him escape….

Caleb forcibly shoved all the negative thoughts from his brain and focused on Marley. She considered his offer for so long that he grew certain she would say no, thank you. But then she gave a tiny smile and nodded. “Well, my brother’s finishing the closet this week, but I could use some help with the painting,” she confessed.

“Should I come by tomorrow?” Anticipation rose in his chest. He quickly banished it, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t seeing her for pleasure, but business.

“Sure. Let’s see…I’m stuck with a graveyard shift tonight. I start at two—” she made a face “—and I’ll be home around eleven tomorrow morning. I’ll probably pass out for a while when I get back, so how about four?”

“Sounds good.”

Laughing, Marley opened the front door for him. “I’m not sure it’ll sound as good when I put you to work painting my kitchen.”

He gave her a faint smile. “I look forward to it.”

Stepping out onto the porch, he thanked her for the coffee. After the door closed behind him, he released a ragged breath. Lord, that kiss. It was a miracle he’d been able to finish the rest of the conversation.

He could still taste her on his lips, and his current state of discomfort made walking next door difficult. He’d never been harder in his life, and if Marley were any other woman, it wouldn’t have stopped with one kiss. He felt it in the way she kissed him back and saw it in the disappointment clouding her eyes when they broke apart. If they were different people, he could’ve buried himself inside her and eased the ache in his groin. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t sleep with her.

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