“Did I keep you up with my snoring?”
“Not really.” She hadn’t minded it at all. But she hadn’t slept all that well either, mainly because she’d been in a strange bed with a man who by all rights was practically a stranger. However, she had gotten to know him much better last night, and that made her blush like the devil.
“I should’ve told you to jab me and I would’ve turned over,” he said. “I usually only snore when I’m on my back.”
He had been on his back, giving Alisha the opportunity to study all the little details—from his solid chest, which was covered in a thatch of hair that thinned into a stream running down his belly, and below that… Well, that was the stuff female fantasies were made of. “You weren’t that loud. It sounded kind of like a purr.”
“A purr? I sure as hell don’t purr.”
“I’m so sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to wound your macho pride.”
“I’m definitely wounded. Those scratches look pretty bad this morning.”
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”
“I will as long as you promise me you’ll wake me before you leave the next time.”
Next time? “Actually I did try to get you up before I left.”
“I said wake me up. Believe me, you did get me up.”
Her face fired up, right on cue. “That’s not what I meant. I shook your shoulder. I swear, I don’t think a grenade would have roused you. Anyway, I needed to get home and get some work done.”
“It’s a holiday, Alisha. You should take the day off.”
She slid the reduced-calorie TV dinner into the microwave, stirred the good-luck black-eyed peas simmering on the stove and prepared to tell a little fib. “Actually I’m supposed to have dinner with friends, maybe watch a bowl game or two.”
“You like football?” He said it with typical male enthusiasm.
“Love it. My mother’s responsible for that. Nothing gets her more excited than the gridiron.”
“Now I know how to get you excited—turn on the game of the week.”
He had her excited now. So much so, she jumped when the microwave signaled it was time to rotate the container. “What are your plans for today?”
“I was hoping to spend the day with you.”
“Sorry, but I can’t.” And she was sorrier she’d lied. Earlier she’d turned down Julie’s dinner invitation because she intended to work. She’d turned Daniel down because she needed time to assess where this whole thing was going.
“I can’t change your mind?” he asked.
Oh, he probably could if she let him, which she wouldn’t. “Maybe some other time.” A big maybe.
“I’m going to see you again, Alisha. And next time we’ll do it right.”
“I didn’t know we did it wrong.”
He released a throaty chuckle. “I meant right as in having dinner. An actual date. I don’t want you to think that last night was only about sex.”
“It wasn’t?”
“I’d be lying if I said I don’t want you back in my bed, but I would like to get to know you better outside of bed.”
“Do I need to bring out the arguments again as to why we shouldn’t even consider that?” she asked.
“You can, but I’m not going to listen. We have no real conflict of interest at the moment and we can be discreet about it. I think we should just go for it and see where it leads.”
Probably places Alisha had never been before. In fact, she’d taken that first step last night when she’d gone to bed with him. Correction: gone to sofa with him. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not going to promise anything.”
“Go ahead and think about it. I’ll pick you up Monday night. We can have some dinner.”
“Daniel, I—”
“I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
“You’re definitely living up to your reputation. No negotiating, no settling.”
“No holds barred when it comes to us. And this is about us, not about our jobs. We deal with our careers during the day, and that leaves the night open for whatever we want to do together.”
Alisha shivered, even in the warmth of the kitchen. “I guess we could have dinner, as long as it’s in an out-of-the-way place.”
“You can come here. I’ll make dinner.”
“You cook?” This man was simply too good to be true.
“Yeah. I can cook. I can do quite a few things that would probably surprise you.”
She had no doubts about that. “Then I guess I’ll see you Monday night.”
“And if I happen to see you Monday during the day, I’ll try not to touch you in public, although it’s going to be damn hard.”
She’d definitely avoid the stairwell and Judge Riley’s chambers. “Have a nice day, Daniel. And happy new year.”
“You, too, Alisha. And if you start having any reservations, just remember us together last night. It’s only going to get better.”
Any better and Alisha might lose herself totally to this enigmatic prosecutor.
But what the heck. She’d lived in a celibate shell for over a year. Long past time to make up for lost time. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen?
“You want me to do what?” Daniel glared at Allan Vera, the current D.A., hoping he hadn’t heard correctly. Maybe he hadn’t. All morning he’d been distracted by thoughts of a defense attorney he couldn’t get out of his head.
Vera released a rough, irritated sigh. “You heard me, Daniel. I said you have to take the Massey case.”
Of all the asinine directives, this one had to top the list. “Krauss is handling it fine.”
“I’m taking Krauss off and putting you on it. The city leaders want this one to go away quickly.”
“I’ve got a full caseload and the Jamison murder trial still pending.”
“Jason Jamison is still on the loose.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be caught soon. In the meantime I plan to build a solid case against him.” As far as Daniel was concerned, any man who would strangle his lover and shoot his own brother with calculated precision deserved to suffer all the punishment the law would allow. First, they had to catch him.
“This Massey thing should be easy enough,” Allan said. “Krauss has already handled the details. You don’t have to do much of anything but show up in court to argue the case.”
And in doing so, face off with a woman he wanted so badly he could taste her. The little taste he’d gotten two nights ago hadn’t been nearly enough. Now it might have to be, unless he could somehow get out of this whole thing. “I don’t have time to handle some frivolous trial just to satisfy the city leaders.”
Allan ran a hand over his balding head and kicked back in the office chair, hands resting on his bulbous belly. “Those city leaders make sure you get paid. And they answer to the citizens, who pay your salary.”
“I handle felonies, not misdemeanors.”
“Don’t