Hooked

“Something like that.”
    “Then if Cooper gets off, he gets his shot at me.”
    “That won’t happen.”
    She scoffed and pulled a bra and panties from the dresser drawer. “I know how these things work, Detective Walsh. I’m the pro in quid pro quo , remember?”
    “Take your shower. If you don’t mind, I’ll take one after.”
    She blinked in surprise. “Are you moving in with me?”
    The thought stabbed Linc in the gut. “Just for tonight. No rooms in the inn. I checked. I could pull the cop thing, but I’d rather keep a low profile.” He pointed to the other room. “Sofa bed. I’ll even take you out to dinner to explain what we want you to do.”
    “Then your office can pay for the night’s hotel charge. I don’t do anything for free. Remember that too.”
    “You drive a hard bargain.”
    She pulled her wet dress over her head and stood naked in front of him. It was the second time she’d done that, and each time the sight of her magnificent body had the same effect. He watched her gaze lower to the swelling inside his wet pants.
    “Seems like you’re the one with the hard bargain, Walsh.” Then she turned and strolled into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. “Key card’s on the dresser.”
    Fuck! Fuck! He left the room and hustled down the long corridor to the elevators. His rain-soaked pants clung to his legs like packing tape. Goddamn uncomfortable. What was wrong with him? The woman was a hooker, and he was a sex crime investigator. That’s supposed to be like oil and water, but it felt more like accelerant and match. Get hold of yourself. Take a Valium or whatever you can find to make stubborn dicks behave.
    Ignoring the stares, he stopped in the bar and ordered a double vodka. He’d anesthetize himself. That would keep everything in place. He always called the shots when it came to women. This one had him tied in knots. All he could think of was getting her in bed. Maybe he should call the captain. No, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
    The drink relaxed him and the walk to the car helped. Exercise. That’s what he needed. And a cold shower and another drink. And a five-fucking-mile run.
    * * * * *
    T awny turned on water in the tub as hot as she could stand. The wet dress had served its purpose, but by the time she shed it she was shivering in the air-conditioned room. She poured the tiny bottle of hotel bubble bath into the gushing surge and stepped in. Frothy foam surrounded her. Total immersion, that’d relax her. She slid down into the water until she was completely submerged, a feeling akin to being ensconced in a warm, toasty blanket. Lack of air forced her to the surface. She took a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh.
    Why was she so tense? Aside from the fact the government wanted a piece of her, like everyone else, what had her on edge? She knew what, but she couldn’t admit it.
    All the years she’d been in the life, she’d never been attracted to anyone enough to get involved. They were business clients, contributors to her retirement so when the time came she’d never have to do anything she didn’t want to. Even her regulars, men she knew well, never tempted her. Oh, some tried. A few even offered marriage―after they divorced their wives. Many weren’t married, but there were obvious reasons that kept them from being good bets. Not that she expected to play out the hand.
    She loved her independence. Loved taking off when she wanted to, scouring ruins in Italy and Greece . Enjoyed vacationing with exciting men. They wanted her because they couldn’t have her, and that made it fun. She did what they wanted in return. Most of that was fun too. But it was always business.
    So what was happening with Lincoln Walsh? She turned him on, that was a no-brainer. He had a bulge in his pants the size of a bus since he hit on her at the beach. But he had an unusual effect on her too. One she couldn’t control. Yeah, he was handsome. She’d been with plenty of handsome men. Rich too. As a cop, she figured Walsh made just enough to keep him in Italian shoes. To her, man and money were separate, and money alone had never roused her interest. It was a means to an end, and she didn’t need anyone to supply it for her. She’d done fine by herself. There was something about this one, though. Underneath his tough exterior hid a softness he’d detest if he knew he possessed it.
    She slipped under the water again.
    * * * * *
    T he door to the bathroom was still