Diamonds Can Be Deadly by Merline Lovelace Page A

arm.
    â€œDoesn’t feel like you broke any bones. Let’s see your other hand.”
    With an air of impatience she didn’t bother to disguise, she placed her left hand in his. TJ compared the two and saw no glaring distortion in their shape or size, aside from the discoloration.
    â€œI prescribe an ice pack and ibuprofen if it starts to throb. You want to avoid aspirin because it—”
    â€œBecause it slows clotting. Thanks, I know how to treat bruises.”
    TJ gave her a considering look. “Sustained a lot of them, have you?”
    He’d always wondered about the scar above her eyebrow. The cop in him had also noted how neatly she would sidestep any reference to her childhood in their admittedly brief hours together. She’d shrugged off his questions then and did the same now.
    â€œObviously you’ve never been behind the scenes at a fashion show. Backstage is nothing short of controlled chaos. With just minutes to make a complete wardrobe change, models are always bumping into dressers, makeup artists or each other. I had to cover up more than one bruise over the years.”
    Jordan delivered that last statement without blinking an eye. It was true. Truer than he would ever know. She was battling memories she refused to let surface when TJ raised her hand to his lips.
    The kiss was as light as the touch of snow, but the contact jolted through her with the impact of a Taser. So did the glint of laughter in his eyes.
    â€œAll better now?”
    â€œYes.” Jerking her hand free of his, she shoved it into the pocket of her terry cloth robe. “Good night.”
    He took the hint. Finally! Relieved she would be rid of him, Jordan trailed him to the entryway.
    â€œI’ll check on you tomorrow,” he told her at the door. “If there’s any swelling or stiffness in the finger joint, we’d better take you into town for X-rays.”
    She frowned up at him, struck by the absolute absurdity of the situation. She hadn’t exactly led a sedate life before or after being recruited by OMEGA. More than one of her undercover assignments had required her to dodge bullets and/or bounce off walls.
    Just last year she’d dangled helplessly at the end of a helicopter retrieval cable, slamming into sheer canyon walls while the crew worked frantically to compensate for a sudden downdraft and reel her in. The year before, she’d cracked a rib leaping from one rooftop to another in pursuit of a Swiss forger.
    That TJ would make such a big deal about one little pinkie both annoyed and disturbed Jordan. She wasn’t used to people fussing over her. Especially rogue cops who topped her shortlist of suspects in a possible money-laundering scheme.
    â€œI’ll let you know if the hand bothers me. Good night.”
    He tipped her a salute and departed. Jordan stood at the door for a moment, listening to the soft crunch of his footsteps on the lava walkway, watching him move through the tropical night. As he merged with the shadows, her gaze swept the postcard-perfect scene.
    A fat moon hung low above the mountains,washing their jagged peaks with pale light. The dark silhouettes of palm trees stood like tall sentinels against the night sky. Their fronds rustled in the breeze, as if whispering secrets to the waves curling against the cliffs.
    It was a setting designed for romance. A night made for lovers. Jordan didn’t realize she was rubbing the spot TJ had kissed until she pressed the bruise a little too hard.
    â€œIdiot,” she muttered, thoroughly disgusted with herself.
    One crooked grin. That’s all it had taken to breach her barriers again. She knew what the man was. Knew what he’d done. Yet here she was, tingling like some silly schoolgirl from his touch.
    â€œIdiot,” she said again and slammed the door on the magical night.
    What she needed, Jordan decided, was a long, hard workout at the spa. She’d schedule one for tomorrow,