On Thin Ice by Eve Gaddy

Especially with two strangers.”
    Her eyes were like green chips of ice, standing out against the pallor of her skin. Her voice was as hard as her eyes. “I’m his lawyer. That’s as far as our ‘understanding’ goes.”
    He cocked his head, considering her. “Sabatino would like it to be more than that.”
    “All this on the basis of a few meetings?” She grabbed at the hair falling in her face and tucked it back. “Get real. He just wants us to save his butt.”
    “Sure he does.” Shutting his book, Devlin caught her gaze and held it. Her eyes were still hard, and even warier. “But he wants more than that.” A pulse throbbed at her throat. Devlin realized he wanted to taste her there, too, to feel her heartbeat against his mouth, to run his lips over that soft, gleaming skin. Wanted it so much that it took him a moment to remember his strategy, to remember why he’d started this line of talk. “Sabatino wants you.”
    Fear flashed in her eyes before she lowered her gaze. Raw fear, more than the moment called for to Devlin’s way of thinking. Enough fear to send her running?
    “Assuming you’re right,” she said, her voice tight, “that’s my problem, isn’t it? If you think Franco’s little games will make me roll over and give you this case, you’re wrong.”
    Franco? Franco’s little games, she’d said. Like she had more than a passing acquaintance with those games. Or with the man. “You know him, don’t you?” Devlin asked softly.
    Her expression shut down, lights off. “I know his type. And I know what you’re trying to do. Forget it. I don’t scare that easily.”
    But she was scared. Devlin sensed it, felt it in the tension pervading the room. Hell, he could almost smell it. Why? Why was she so frightened, yet so determined to continue with the case? “What makes you think I want you off the case?”
    “Nothing except the little fact that you don’t want to share the glory if we win. I know what you want.”
    He smiled at her, slow and easy. “Do you?” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her mouth.
    Her eyes widened, then she looked away and began collecting her papers. He was reminded of how flustered she’d been when she’d dropped her lingerie and he’d helped her gather it up.
    “It’s late,” she said. “I’m going home.”
    He waited until she finished, then rose and went to the door with her.
    “What are you doing?” she asked as he turned out the light and shut the door behind them.
    “Walking you to your car.”
    She strode down the hall, halting at the elevator. Facing him, her chin lifted arrogantly, she said, “I’m a big girl, Sinclair. I can get to my car by myself.”
    Hands in his pockets, he relaxed, his shoulder against the wall. “You can also get mugged.”
    “I know self-defense. Besides, I moved my car to the lighted lot attached to the building. The security guard will watch out for me.”
    “Humor me. It’s my Southern upbringing.”
    She threw up her hand. “Have it your way,” she said, and stalked inside the elevator when the doors opened.
    I intend to, he thought, following her in.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    As they stepped out of the elevator Devlin took her arm, just as he had every other time they’d walked together. Again, Gabrielle wondered if it was his upbringing that prompted him or if it was merely an excuse to touch her.
    Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the deserted garage. Unable to resist, she glanced at him. His hair fell across his brow, a slash of gold in the gloom. His profile presented the chiseled perfection of one of Michelangelo’s sculptures. A masterpiece of living, breathing man, not marble. Sleek, powerful, beautiful, a cougar ready to pounce the minute he found out the truth about her and Franco.
    Devlin was much too astute to chatter. No, he’d let her mull over what he’d said in the library, and if that wasn’t bad enough, his silence only intensified her awareness of his presence. Magnified the smell of