Bayou Heat by Donna Kauffman

her spiky halo of hair, illuminating her upturned face. Something had moved inside
     him then.
    Her indignation was clear, in her voice and her expression, but so was something else.
     Something he’d fought seeing, fought hearing … but had remained burned in his mind’s
     eye.
    Want.
    There had been such a deep wealth of want in those eyes of hers. To say nothing of
     that hollow ache he’d heard in her voice earlier, before she’d wisely shut up.
    His body had heard it, had responded loud and clear. The memory of walking up to her
     in the apartment assaulted him, catching him with his guard down, punching a big hole
     in his control.
    He’d meant to intimidate, calculated his moves to ensure his control of the situation,
     control of her … all part of his job, one he was very good at. He hadn’t counted on
     getting caught in the web too. Had barely backed away before becoming hopelessly caught
     in its sticky, destructive strands.
    Too much was at stake.
    Want …
    Worse than the most addictive drug.
    Right up there with need and hope. Individually they were dangerous. Combined they
     were soul destroyers.
    Teague pushed down the path. Best to get on with it. He had to get Erin set up, then
     do some quick business while he was out there. Risky, but the situation was as controlled
     as he could make it. He had no guarantees for later. And he didn’t need both Marsh
     and Erin breathing down his neck.
    “Can you tell me what it is we’re observing tonight?”
    She moved so silently behind him, her words were the only sound that reached his ears.
     That earned her another measure of his respect. He knew firsthand how difficult that
     was, especially out here. That skill had meant the difference between life and death
     for him more times than he cared to count. The fact that she was doing it and keeping
     pace with him told him it was an ability so ingrained as to be second nature.
    Good thing. Depending on how his meeting went later tonight, she might be needing
     it for more than observing voodoo rituals undetected.
    The idea of Erin in mortal danger didn’t sit at all well with him. And that realization
     sat even worse.
    He shook it off. Erin claimed she could take care of herself. And Teague believed
     her. A more self-reliant woman he’d never met. Except perhaps the one they were on
     their way to see.
    Another smile curved his lips. It hadn’t occurred tohim until now, but if Belisaire chose to make an appearance, it just might make taking
     on Marsh’s favor worth all the pain-in-the-butt adjustments he’d had to make in this
     case.
    “Teague?”
    His skin actually prickled in awareness at the sound of his name on her lips. Not
     a good sign, Comeaux.
    “You’ll see when you get there,” he said. “If we get a move on, you might be able
     to witness the end of the ritual. She might speak with you afterward. No guarantees.”
    “I’m surprised. Grateful, but surprised. Mac and I had to work months and months in
     Africa before we could so much as witness a meeting between the
bokor
there and an individual seeking advice. We were never permitted to observe an actual
     ritual ceremony. They had no public ones at that time.”
    “Yeah, well, let’s just say I have an inside track.”
    He felt the warmth of her hand the instant before she placed it on his arm. He stopped
     suddenly and she walked right into him. Her breast, feeling soft and fuller than he
     remembered from that night in her bathroom, pressed hard into his arm.
    Her soft gasp made his jaw clench. She backed away from him, but he doubted his body
     would register that fact for several hours.
    “Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, I just wanted to let you know that, despite our unusual
     beginning, I really do appreciate all you’re doing for me.”
    Something in her voice pulled at him and he found himself looking at her before he
     was aware of it. As hedid, he realized what it was. Uncertainty. A trait he’d have thought