“We’re probably dealing with a kid or some perv with an underwear fetish,” he mused, rocking back on his heels. That’d been his—and the deputies’ who’d written the previous reports—assumption of the case. But he’d learned years ago to listen to his gut over assumptions, his or anyone else’s. “You don’t have much in common with the other victims, though.”
“You don’t think so?” Dumping her armload of delicates into a laundry basket at the foot of her bed, she gave him an amused look with those cat eyes. “I don’t know about that. We’re all female. We all live in the same town. We all wear underwear. Well, there is the rumor floating around this evening that Ben Zimmerman had his undies snatched, too. Now, Ben does have a habit of dressing up as Little Bo Peep for Halloween, and I avoid hoopskirts like the plague. But other than that, I’d say we all have quite a bit in common.”
Diego’d always had a hell of a time resisting a woman with a smart mouth. He eyed the white eyelet bedspread and collection of hardback books lining the shelves on either side of the curved iron bed. The shelf filled with family photos was untouched, other than a leopard-print bra dangling from one frame. Despite the abundance of sexy underwear, he hadn’t come across a single sex toy. And given the feel of the scene, if there’d been one to be found, the culprit would have tossed it in the mix.
Diego glanced back at the petite blonde, looking like an irate fairy as she plucked her lingerie from furniture, curtain rods and shelves where it hung like the fruits of temptation.
She was hot. No question about it.
And he’d seen the look in her eyes. Sexual speculation, mixed with a whole lot of lust. He figured it was close enough to an invitation to move on, even if she had snatched it back pretty damn quick.
Except for two things.
One, she was on the other side of that hard line Kinnison had warned him not to cross.
And two, despite her lusty looks and fabulous taste in what she wore against her skin, she was obviously a nice girl.
And while he might risk Kinnison’s wrath on the first, he never risked the heartbreak that came with messing with the second.
Still …
“You got a boyfriend?”
“Why, Detective, is the sight of my lingerie tempting you?” she teased, her tone flirtatious and light. But he saw that look in her eyes again. The “wouldn’t it be interesting to strip you naked and climb all over your body” look.
Was she trying to kill him? Diego hadn’t been this uncomfortably hard since he’d found a crack in the dressing room wall of the local strip club back when he was a teenager.
“Mixing business and pleasure is against regulations.” And right now, he figured those regulations—and the promotion riding on them—were the only things keeping him from trying to find out just how nice a girl she was. He cleared his throat. “In cases like this, a boyfriend, an ex or a rejected admirer all fit the bill for crimes of this nature.”
He couldn’t help but grin when she ducked her head. Skin that fair sure blushed easily. There. Temptation handled. Now she’d think twice about flirting. Nice girls were easy to handle, he decided.
“No boyfriend, no ex, no rejected admirer,” she told him, her words a little tense. Embarrassment? Then she met his eyes again. His brows shot up. Nope, that wasn’t shyness in the green depths. It was irritation. Did the fairy have a temper?
“I hope you have more to go on than that to solve this case,” she said, separating the clothing she’d gathered into tidy piles on her bed. Panties in this one, nighties in that. Diego swore a drop of sweat ran down his temple when a sheer red thong missed its pile and landed on her pillow. “Then again, rumor has it you might have a few problems with that.”
So she could bite back. When had temper become sexy? Maybe when temper had such great taste in lingerie. Eyeing the tiny roses decorating the red thong, he asked, “Problems with what?”
“Solving the case.”
Diego’s gaze snapped to hers. “What are you talking about?”
Jade tilted her head to one side. The light caught on the row of tiny gold hoops piercing her ear. “Word on the street is that you’re here because you’ve got a problem with your boss.”
God, he hated small towns.
“And you shouldn’t give too much weight to rumors,” he added. “Small towns might thrive on them, but they’re rarely rooted in fact.”
“So you weren’t sent here as punishment?” she asked, her tone as friendly as her face was curious. Whether it was a ploy to garner gossip fuel, or whether she was actually interested, Diego couldn’t tell.
He’d been about to write her off as a sexy nice girl. Sweet, but not much of a challenge. Now he wasn’t so sure of anything but the sexy part. That bothered him. His gift for reading people was one of the keys behind his success.
“I was sent here for two reasons,” he said slowly, measuring just how much to share with the town pipeline. He might be having trouble getting a gauge on the pixie, but he knew how to finesse information. “I’m up for a major promotion. Solving this case is the last step to ensure I get it.”
Diego had no problem lying to solve a case, but it was always easier to go with the truth if possible.
“And the second reason?”
It only took two steps for Diego to cross the room, standing close enough that the scent of her, light and airy, wrapped around him. For a second he forgot what he was doing. Forgot why he was there. Forgot everything except the sudden discovery of just how appealing sweetness could be.
Her lashes fluttered, thick and dark, hiding those expressive eyes. He watched the pulse quiver in her throat, wanting nothing more than to lean closer and press his lips to the soft flesh. To feel her heart race beneath his tongue.
As if reading his mind, she gulped. Then, as if she was trying to make it look casual, she moved over to the armoire, putting breathing distance between them.
Dammit.
“You were telling me the second reason you were sent here,” she reminded him breathlessly.
To find out how many different sounds she could make while he brought her to orgasm? Diego gave himself a mental head slap and tried to shake off the sexual fog.
“The second reason? Because I’m good,” he promised. Her eyes widened, fingers clenching the wicker handles of the laundry basket so hard it made a loud snap. Grinning, Diego nodded. “I’m damn good. I close cases, and I put criminals away. Whoever did this, their ass is mine.”
And there ya go. Toss in a little intimidation, and he’d be home by the end of the weekend. Before he did anything stupid, like give in to the need to find out if the pretty little blonde’s naughty side was reserved for her lingerie.
“You promise?” she asked, looking around the mess of her bedroom. “You’ll find out who did this. And why?”
Diego didn’t do promises. Growing up, he’d had too many broken to ever want to cause someone else that kind of disappointment.
He looked around the room. The deputies who’d been called in on the previous burglaries had dusted for prints and come up bust. Despite the shift in M.O. from snatch-and-run to destruction, there was no reason to think this time’d be any different. This was either a copycat with a grudge against Ms. Carson, a totally unconnected case, or all the other thefts had been smoke. Which meant the green-eyed pixie was the real target.
He’d have to work the case as if all three were fact. But his gut said it was the latter. He just had to find enough evidence to pull all the pieces together. And he would. Because that’s what he did.
But