Playing Love's Odds (A Classic Sexy Romantic Suspense)

Playing Love's Odds (A Classic Sexy Romantic Suspense) by Alison Kent

Book: Playing Love's Odds (A Classic Sexy Romantic Suspense) by Alison Kent Read Free Book Online
Authors: Alison Kent
Tags: Romance
something stronger. This was one of those times that called for a drink. She unscrewed the top and brought the bottle to her mouth just as Logan came into the kitchen. When she offered, he accepted and took a swig, only to spit it out in the sink.
    "What the hell is that stuff?" he asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
    Hannah stifled a grin. "Spring water with raspberry juice."
    "Tastes like something the dog dragged in."
    "The cat," she corrected him, adding, "and I wouldn't know."
    "You like that stuff?"
    "Nothing artificial. No calories."
    "Yeah, but do you like it?"
    Hannah stared at the bottle and frowned. "Not really."
    "Then why do you drink it?"
    "Habit, I guess."
    "A disgusting habit if you ask me." He squeezed past her with a brush of lean muscle and a lingering scent of sea air and tartar sauce and opened the refrigerator door, bending at the waist to peer inside. "How 'bout a beer?" He glanced back over his shoulder. "Hannah?"
    She pried her eyes from his khaki-covered behind, shaking off the strangest picture of sand and surf and smooth, sweat-streaked skin. "What?"
    "Never mind." He straightened, slammed the door and stalked by, settling into a chair at her dining table. Legs extended and crossed at the ankle, he propped his laced fingers at his waist. "What do you think?"
    "I asked you first," she answered, deciding khakis were definitely on her list of priorities along with a newly acquired longing for fun in the sun.
    "I think they were looking for something specific."
    That brought her mind back to business. Intrigued, she dropped into the chair next to his. "What makes you say that?"
    "Nothing's missing, right?"
    "As far as I can tell, no."
    "Your CD player is safe even though the CDs are tossed everywhere." He pointed across the room. "And look at your books. If they'd been in the bookcase when it was turned over, they wouldn't be scattered like they are."
    "You mean someone pulled them out on purpose?"
    "Maybe. Then there's the desk and bureau in your room."
    "What about them?"
    "Drawers dumped. Mattress half off the frame. Towels and sheets yanked out of the linen closet. But your jewelry box and computer weren't touched."
    Thoughts whirring, Hannah urged him on. "What else?"
    "Couch cushions unzipped, not slit."
    "Like they didn't want to risk destroying something hidden inside." Too agitated to sit, she kicked off her shoes again, jumped to her feet and paced the length of the trashed-out room.
    "Exactly." He parked his elbows on his knees and tented his fingers beneath his chin. "What were they looking for, Hannah?"
    She stopped, frowned. "I don't understand."
    "Papers, documents, photographs. Have you collected any printed data about what you saw at ViOPet?" His eyes bore into hers, daring her to lie.
    She pictured her briefcase locked in the trunk of her car, the two pages of scrawled notes tucked inside. "They wouldn't have found anything in the house."
    "So you have it stashed someplace else."
    When she didn't answer right away, he prompted her with a cool, "Hannah?"
    "Yes," she snapped, then calmly added, "It's stashed someplace else."
    He stood and settled his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were tiger-bright and just as ferocious when he tipped her chin back with one finger. "Before we go any further, we need to get a second thing straight. Don't ever hide anything from me. Or pull something over on me. I'll find out. And I'll be angry."
    Hannah's blood pressure began to rise, from annoyance or his proximity she wasn't sure. "How angry?"
    "Angry enough to drop your case."
    Definitely annoyance. She backed away from his touch. "Then drop it. You obviously don't trust me to be honest with you," she said, realizing with a stab of guilt that she hadn't been. At least not totally.
    He jammed his hands in his pants pockets and tightened his right into a fist. With a look of a man fighting a personal battle, he glanced from Hannah to his fist and back. "Trust doesn't come easy for me."

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