Strong, Sleek and Sinful - By Lorie O'Clare Page 0,104
hand when he lowered his gaze and noticed she was holding her gun through her dress.
“Hold on,” he said, disappearing into his bedroom.
Kylie headed into the living room, checking the next window. The window behind his couch offered the best view. The vehicle was still out there, and as she watched, their headlights turned off. But then it started moving, coming down the road without lights until it slowed and idled in front of Perry’s house.
“A black Suburban,” she whispered, backing up from where she looked out of the corner of the blind without moving it.
She jumped when Perry’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “Friend of yours?” There was a dangerous edge in his tone that crept over her flesh, giving her a chill.
“Nope.” Kylie turned around, edging around the now-dressed Perry. “Who do you know who drives a black Suburban?” she asked, having to tilt her head to look into his brooding expression when he didn’t back up so she could get around him.
“No one.” He wore jeans and a blue T-shirt that smelled of fabric softener.
When he turned toward his kitchen she watched him lift a black belt that he’d held in his hand and begin sliding it through the belt loops on his jeans. Kylie hurried after him; damn if she was standing in here when she’d planned on going outside to investigate before he even appeared from the shower. At the door he turned around, and she was ready for his macho crap to start flying. When he looked away from her after only a moment to focus on working the belt through the side loop, she hurried around him.
“Let me do it,” she said, not wanting to lose this guy if he was who she thought he might be.
And if he was, then why was Peter following her?
A strange sensation washed over her when she helped slide Perry’s belt through the loops while he lifted his arms and allowed her to finish dressing him. His gun was already in the holster, and after she finished, Perry slid his belt through his belt buckle while she made sure the snaps were secure on his holster. It was a simple step, one she had done a million times, but helping Perry, knowing in the next moment they were headed outside for some very simple investigation, created a pressure inside her that swelled throughout her in record time.
This wasn’t the time, or place, to get all hot and bothered about doing detective work by his side. Not to mention, there wasn’t a time, or place, to get turned on by this. They weren’t partners and never would be, professionally or personally. Kylie let go of his gun and walked around him toward the door.
“Are we assuming this is the same Suburban that drove toward you in the bowling alley a few days ago?” he asked from behind her.
“That’s my guess.” Kylie reached for the door handle, but Perry put his hand on her shoulder.
He ran it down her back and then cupped her ass. Pulling her to him, he held her while opening the door. Perry guided her outside, keeping her close, and then let go to close the door.
“He’s taking off,” Kylie whispered, feeling drizzles dampen her cheeks and hair. She swore they sizzled against her already-overheated flesh. Perry kept her close, which didn’t help her resolve to not get involved. “We’re following him.”
“Who is he?” Again Perry took her arm and turned her away from the street. Instead of walking toward either of their parked cars, he led her to his garage. “I’m driving.”
“What are you driving?” She glanced toward the street where the Suburban had idled. It was gone now. “You’d better hurry.”
“Get in,” Perry said once he’d opened the garage door and disappeared inside. “And who is he?”
Kylie walked alongside a sports car. She ran her hand over the cool metal until she reached the passenger door. The interior light turned on when Perry slid behind the wheel and reached to open her door. Kylie slipped into a reclining bucket seat and stared at the black dash with individual round, clear plastic–covered gauges and then down at the gearshift between them. Perry grabbed the ball with his large hands, cupping it and shifting as he started the car. It purred to life with energy and power suitable only for Perry.
She studied his profile when he looked over his shoulder and backed out of his garage. “If my hunch is right, he’s Peter.”