second time he’d seen her and the second time she’d worn clothes that showed off her cleavage. Her decent-sized boobs were obviously something about herself that she liked. He most definitely appreciated the view.
Micah would never reveal to a soul how many people he’d killed in his life. He’d killed more than one incredibly beautiful woman in cold blood. None of them glowed the way Maggie did. Even as she fidgeted, either waiting for him to say more or choosing her words carefully, he sensed something in her that he didn’t often see.
Was it innocence?
He already knew she was a spitfire. She was intelligent enough to manage the books for a nightclub, legitimate or not. Micah knew better than to pass judgment this soon.
Maggie met his gaze with a mixture of awe and fear, and something else, not quite so subtle, but Micah was aware of it nonetheless.
Curiosity. Lust. Sexual awareness.
“If you think I’m guilty, this isn’t going to work,” Maggie snapped suddenly. If that’s what she thought he was thinking, she was way off base. Her eyes narrowed, and her pencil-thin eyebrows closed together. “Tell me that you were simply doing your job earlier this week and we might be able to work together. But, Mr. Jones, if you believe I am guilty of stealing money from my own club, then I want to know right now.”
“I honestly don’t have an opinion one way or another.” Spitfire might have been an understatement. Maggie had a serious Irish temper. “Prove to me you’re innocent.” He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and rested his boots on his coffee table.
Maggie watched the act, swallowing slowly, then licked her lips. He could see the bra line through her sweater and as he watched, her nipples grew hard, puckering slightly against the fuzzy material.
“How can I prove my innocence?” she demanded, extending her arms and then dropping them, sighing loudly. Her blue eyes flashed vibrantly, and for the first time her gaze traveled up the length of his body. “I don’t even fully understand what they’re trying to charge me with.”
“You don’t?”
Instead of answering, Maggie crossed her arms and met his gaze head-on, glaring at him as if his question were preposterous. All she could possibly know about him was where he worked, where he lived, and that he was easily twice as strong as her and with skills she didn’t possess. Skills to chase down, capture, and arrest men and women who had bounties on their heads. Yet she glared at him as if she’d take him on right then and there. He liked that about her. Micah had a sudden desire to stand, move in on her, and test those tempting waters she was showing off to him.
“The cops think Club Paradise is a cover for illegal activity and that it isn’t actually making the money it claims to be making.” She dropped her purse on his coffee table next to the unopened beer. “Which is absolutely ridiculous,” she exclaimed, and began pacing in front of him. “They took my ledger book.” She stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Micah. “You took my ledger book. But someone also took my computer. If it weren’t for hard-copy backup files, I wouldn’t have a clue how to defend myself through all of this.”
He would have to check whether the police had searched her house. Micah would pretend he hadn’t heard what she just said, at least for right now. “Why is it ridiculous?”
Maggie stopped pacing, faced him, and put her hands on her hips, gaping. “Did you even look at my ledger book after taking it from me?”
“It was evidence.” When her expression didn’t change, he slowly shook his head. “I don’t make a habit of going through evidence. I handed it to my boss. You were there when I did it.”
“My uncle is locked up and I can’t talk to him.”
“Talking to him wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Again she looked at him as if he had two heads. “Uncle Larry isn’t smart enough to use a nightclub as a front to
Micah would never reveal to a soul how many people he’d killed in his life. He’d killed more than one incredibly beautiful woman in cold blood. None of them glowed the way Maggie did. Even as she fidgeted, either waiting for him to say more or choosing her words carefully, he sensed something in her that he didn’t often see.
Was it innocence?
He already knew she was a spitfire. She was intelligent enough to manage the books for a nightclub, legitimate or not. Micah knew better than to pass judgment this soon.
Maggie met his gaze with a mixture of awe and fear, and something else, not quite so subtle, but Micah was aware of it nonetheless.
Curiosity. Lust. Sexual awareness.
“If you think I’m guilty, this isn’t going to work,” Maggie snapped suddenly. If that’s what she thought he was thinking, she was way off base. Her eyes narrowed, and her pencil-thin eyebrows closed together. “Tell me that you were simply doing your job earlier this week and we might be able to work together. But, Mr. Jones, if you believe I am guilty of stealing money from my own club, then I want to know right now.”
“I honestly don’t have an opinion one way or another.” Spitfire might have been an understatement. Maggie had a serious Irish temper. “Prove to me you’re innocent.” He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and rested his boots on his coffee table.
Maggie watched the act, swallowing slowly, then licked her lips. He could see the bra line through her sweater and as he watched, her nipples grew hard, puckering slightly against the fuzzy material.
“How can I prove my innocence?” she demanded, extending her arms and then dropping them, sighing loudly. Her blue eyes flashed vibrantly, and for the first time her gaze traveled up the length of his body. “I don’t even fully understand what they’re trying to charge me with.”
“You don’t?”
Instead of answering, Maggie crossed her arms and met his gaze head-on, glaring at him as if his question were preposterous. All she could possibly know about him was where he worked, where he lived, and that he was easily twice as strong as her and with skills she didn’t possess. Skills to chase down, capture, and arrest men and women who had bounties on their heads. Yet she glared at him as if she’d take him on right then and there. He liked that about her. Micah had a sudden desire to stand, move in on her, and test those tempting waters she was showing off to him.
“The cops think Club Paradise is a cover for illegal activity and that it isn’t actually making the money it claims to be making.” She dropped her purse on his coffee table next to the unopened beer. “Which is absolutely ridiculous,” she exclaimed, and began pacing in front of him. “They took my ledger book.” She stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Micah. “You took my ledger book. But someone also took my computer. If it weren’t for hard-copy backup files, I wouldn’t have a clue how to defend myself through all of this.”
He would have to check whether the police had searched her house. Micah would pretend he hadn’t heard what she just said, at least for right now. “Why is it ridiculous?”
Maggie stopped pacing, faced him, and put her hands on her hips, gaping. “Did you even look at my ledger book after taking it from me?”
“It was evidence.” When her expression didn’t change, he slowly shook his head. “I don’t make a habit of going through evidence. I handed it to my boss. You were there when I did it.”
“My uncle is locked up and I can’t talk to him.”
“Talking to him wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Again she looked at him as if he had two heads. “Uncle Larry isn’t smart enough to use a nightclub as a front to
Similar Books
