Page 2 of Loving a Billionaire

The door to one of the rooms opened, and out walked a man. He was tall, built like a quarterback, and wore a black bathrobe that reached below his knees. His wet hair was slicked back on his head, and his face appeared freshly shaven. His attention was on his iPhone as he scrolled through it. In his ears were earphones with a cord attached to the electronic device.

Inwardly, she groaned. No wonder he hadn’t heard her calling out, announcing herself.A good detective checks every room, Russell.But in her defense, she was about to when he walked out.

Panic hammered away in her chest, bringing a momentary shut-down to her brain... and her lungs, because at this moment as she stared at his bathrobe and the muscular bare legs, she couldn’t breathe. Her worst nightmare had come true. She’d been caught in the suspect’s penthouse apartment looking like a girl going to her first prom, and holding a G42, no less! What kind of bad horror flick was this?

The rhythm of her heart was as fast as a motorboat zooming over the high waves during a typhoon, and she knew her heart would crash and sink at any moment. If that happened, she’d be standing in the middle of his room, looking like a complete idiot in a fancy dress, with a gun.

What would he think when he saw her? Although she could imagine plenty, it worried her that she didn’t look like a police detective. Naturally, he’d think someone was here to end his life. She definitely didn’t want him thinking that.

Without another thought, she pushed the Glock back in her beaded purse. Within seconds, the man raised his head and looked at her. He stopped. His mouth hung open as his gaze moved over her. It didn’t bother her the way he scanned up and down her body like some kind of hungry jaguar, but what concerned her was the way her mouth dried so quickly and cotton had taken up residence in her throat. This man was absolutely the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on – and she’d seen many in her twenty-five years.

Talia forced herself to breathe... in through the nose, out of the mouth... before the oxygen stopped transporting to her brain. This handsome man made it impossible to concentrate. From his wet, short dark hair, to the cotton robe wrapped around his muscular frame, giving her a peep-show of his bare legs, was it any wonder her mind was so mixed up?

Willing the words to come to her mind, she struggled with an excuse of what to tell him as to why she was in his apartment. Standing before him without her Glock made her feel naked, and of course, brain dead. She certainly wasn’t being professional now.Sergeant Feakes is going to ask for my badge and gun!

Mr. Reeder’s narrowed gaze stayed on her as he walked toward her, pulling out his earphones. When he finally stopped in front of her, the suspicious glint to his eyes had disappeared. A sexy, crooked grin touched his mouth.

Sexy? She tried to shake the image out of her head. He was a murder suspect! Thinking of him this way was against the rules, and she kept the police force’s rulebook in her head at all times.

“Aloha,” he said, warily.

“Al –” her voice cracked, so she cleared it and started over. “Aloha.”

“How did you get in?” he asked.

“I... um,” she swallowed hard, “the door was already opened a little. I... heard a heavy thump inside. I... didn’t know what to think except you had fallen or something.”

He nodded. “Oh, that. Well, I accidentally knocked the hamper over.” He ran his gaze over her again. “So I suppose you decided to come today, anyway?”

The deep timbre in his voice made her heart flip-flop. Yet, why had he asked that question? What did he mean? Perhaps he knew who she was and wondered why she was here today instead of tomorrow. But how could he know her purpose for being here? Especially dressed like this?

She clutched her hands and held them to her middle. If only she had her fingers wrapped around the handle of her gun, she’d feel more secure. She grumbled under her breath. What was she thinking to put it away so soon?

“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he spoke again. “In fact, why don’t you come over here?” He motioned to the dinette table. He slid his iPhone into the pocket of his robe. “We’ll have a drink to break the awkwardness between us.”

Slowly, she shook her head. He had no clue to her identity. Nobody asked a police detective to have a drink of liquor with them. Maybe a cup of coffee or a soda, but never liquor.

Now the question remained, who then, did he think she was? For some reason, Mr. Reeder wasn’t at all surprised to see a strange woman who dressed this fancy in his apartment in the middle of the day. And yet, he wasn’t dressed like he was going out for a night on the town, as she was.

Perhaps she should play along and see where it led. After all, she was a detective, and she’d do anything to get the answers to her questions. Well, almost anything.