“You’re beautiful. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because we’ve got a nut job to hunt down.” Then, she shot him a sweet smile. “The M.E.’s report came back from the first death, which is a B.”
He went to the white board, erased the letters, added a B. “How was she killed?”
“Gunshot wound to the head. No sign of a struggle, no sign of forced entry.”
“Where?”
“Her apartment in DC.”
Returning to the table, he leaned over her shoulder, flipped through the online reports. The energy shifted, the air turned chaotic. He inhaled her fragrant scent.
Act like a damn pro.
He moved away from her. “The first two victims were killed at the same time.”
“How’d I miss that?” she asked.
His head was throbbing, so he pulled out the hair tie and raked his fingers through his hair. Now, it was her turn to stare at him.
Time stopped. All he could see was Brit drilling him with a searing gaze that jump-started his libido.
“I want to kiss you so damn badly,” he murmured.
Her gaze darkened, she glanced at his mouth, then back into his eyes. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”
But the hunger in her eyes belied her words. She moistened her soft lips. He dipped down. Footsteps tapped against the hard flooring. They separated as Dakota walked in.
“Hey, guys, how’s it going?” Dakota asked.
“Slow,” Rebel replied.
“Reviewing the case with fresh eyes,” Brit added.
“I’m taking off,” Dakota said.
Rebel glanced at the time. It was almost six in the evening. “Have a good night. Kiss your babies for me.”
“They’ve been asking when you’re coming back.” Dakota smiled. “Something about presents.”
“Tell ‘em soon.”
Dakota left, the tapping of his dress shoes fading away down the hallway.
Alone with Brit. His gaze found hers. Within seconds, the air crackled with excitement. Until she broke eye contact.
Frustration slithered down his spine. He’d never had sex with a coworker.
Never.
Not at the Bureau. Not at his hotel. Not at Asylum. But Brit was different. It was more than sex. He could feel the chemistry swirling around them, pulling them closer and closer. Could she feel it?
“I’m losing it,” he grumbled. “Where were we?”
“All six victims were killed in their homes.”
He grabbed a black marker. “Let’s start with the date of every vic’s murder.”
