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She gathered her new clothes into her arms. “I’ll just be a minute,” she promised.
She paused as she passed him on the way to the bathroom. After only a momentary hesitation, she rose on tiptoe and pressed a quick kiss to his unshaven cheek. “It was a very sweet gesture, Blake,” she murmured, drawing away. “Thank you.”
Without even stopping to think about it, he snagged a hand behind her wet head, pulled her toward him and planted a long, firm kiss against her mouth. This was the third time he’d kissed her, and each time she tasted sweeter, more inviting. If he wasn’t careful, if he kept indulging in those a
ddictive kisses, he was going to do something monumentally stupid.
Blake’s pulse was racing when he pulled away, and Tara’s eyes were huge. He took a quick step back, out of the danger zone.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice husky. “Now go get dressed before I forget all those promises about how trustworthy I am.”
She wasted no time closing herself into the bathroom.
Blake ran an unsteady hand through his hair and wasted a few minutes calling himself every synonym he could think of for fool. And then he turned to set out blueberry muffins and rapidly cooling coffee.
They had a long day ahead of them, with no time for distractions. Once he’d figured out what the hell was going on, and had got everything under control...well, then he would see whether Tara McBride still considered him “sweet.”
TARA AVOIDED Blake’s eyes while they ate their hasty breakfast. He probably thought she was an idiot. She couldn’t believe she’d made such a fuss over a few inexpensive cosmetics. She wasn’t one to burst into tears that way. She must have been more tired than she’d thought.
As for that kiss...well, she simply couldn’t think about that right now.
After they’d eaten, Blake took a shower while Tara dried her hair and applied a touch of the makeup. She told herself it was merely a measure of her stress and exhaustion that she almost sniffled again when she opened her bright pink toothbrush.
She tried to block out the sound of the water running in the shower. Tried to push away the mental images of Blake standing naked beneath it. But it was impossible to forget the feeling of his mouth pressed hard to hers.
Don’t do this, Tara.
She was in no position to get involved with anyone, much less an enigmatic, unpredictable, adventure-seeking private investigator. Even before she’d lost her job, when she’d seen Blake occasionally and had felt the tug of attraction every time, she’d known it was foolish. A dashing P.I., she’d told herself, couldn’t possibly be interested in a serious, routine-bound tax attorney.
She had never learned to flirt, something Blake did with a skill and enthusiasm that indicated years of successful practice. Tara hadn’t even had a steady boyfriend in high school. Her cousin Savannah, who’d been the captain of the cheerleader squad and extremely popular with the boys, had accused Tara of intimidating the guys with her brains and ambition.
Not that flirting had paid off for Savannah, who’d ended up pregnant and ignominiously dumped by her boyfriend at seventeen. Witnessing her cousin’s humiliation, Tara had told herself that she wasn’t interested in dating—and then had tried to believe it.
College had been a blur of studying and exams. Tara had finished in three years and had then been accepted into Harvard Law School. After that had come the offer from the law firm in Atlanta.
She’d dated now and then, of course. She’d even tried to have a meaningful relationship with a suitable young attorney whose ambition matched her own—a bit too closely, actually, since it had been his jealousy over her success that had driven them apart.
But no way was she prepared to indulge in a fling with Blake. As far as she could see, nothing could come of it but a broken heart and another devastating blow to her already battered ego. Maybe if she had learned to flirt somewhere along the way...if she could trust herself to enjoy Blake’s attentions without reading too much into them, or wanting too much from him...
If only she was as reckless and adventurous as Blake... But she wasn’t.
So, no more kissing Blake, no matter how sweet he was, she told herself sternly. From now on, she was keeping her lips strictly to herself.
Lacking a case, she scooped the cosmetics into the same blue plastic bag Blake had brought them in. She wondered if she should wash her worn lingerie out by hand and let it dry over the shower rod. She didn’t know how long Blake intended to remain in this room. Not long, she hoped. The walls were already beginning to close in on her.
She heard the bathroom door open, and automatically glanced around. Blake emerged wearing a pair of jeans and the denim shirt she’d had on earlier. His hair was wet, and he hadn’t yet buttoned the shirt. It hung loose over his jeans, revealing a sleek, firm chest glistening with a sheen of moisture. And Tara felt her knees start to melt.
There were parts of her, she thought in despair, that hadn’t yet gotten the message that this man was out of her league.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, apparently oblivious to her stunned reaction to his appearance. “The stolen paintings may be the key to finding out what’s going on. If we can find them, maybe we can find our answers.”
Tara cleared her throat. “And how would you suggest we go about that?”
“I have this friend...” He rubbed his clean-shaven chin and frowned, looking thoughtfully at Tara. “Maybe you’d better stay here. You’ll be safe here.”
No way was she staying in this claustrophobic little room while Blake went off looking for clues. She shook her head. “No.”
“Tara...”
