Gretchen blew out a breath as she reached into the first bag of groceries and pulled out a head of radicchio. “The humane society. I was looking for a Lab,” she explained. “Or a Shepherd. Maybe a St. Bernard.”
“Tough-guy dogs,” he surmised.
“Well, yes. Why not?”
“Absolutely. Smart dogs to keep around.”
“I know, but then—”
“Goliath looked at you with those big caramel-brown puppy-dog eyes that said ‘I need help.’”
Gretchen glanced back over her shoulder and leveled a long cool green-eyed stare at him. “Believe me, I’m not such a pushover as that, Hannon. You don’t work the streets of Miami and survive if you fall for every pair of big beautiful eyes that look at you beseechingly.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said, moving up behind her. He wondered just what all she’d seen in those years in the city. He was pretty sure much of it had been ugly. There was a telling tiny scar on her wrist and one just beneath that firm little chin of hers. Maybe from falling off a bike as a kid—or maybe from having a knife held a bit too close for comfort. Any way he looked at it, he was positive that she’d learned the survival skills every cop in that sort of situation had to learn. Emotional retreat. Develop a tough patina. Never get too involved. She had those eyes that looked right through a man to read secrets he didn’t want read. She had that closed-off look she could turn on whenever she needed to. And yet… He looked back down to the tiny dog worrying a rubber bone as if the chew toy were a criminal Goliath was trying to cuff.
“They were going to put him down. He was too frantic, too untrainable for most people,” she explained apologetically. “It was probably foolish for me to take him, but—” She lifted a shoulder in a helpless gesture.
“You did what you felt you had to do,” David said, holding out a box of rice to Gretchen, trying to ease her out of her discomfort by returning to the mundane task at hand. She took the box from him, her fingers brushing against his. Cool satin licking against his skin. At the stroke of her bare flesh against his, he felt a slight tremble go through her—and felt his own answering tremors deep inside. Unusual for him, he thought for about the fiftieth time since he’d met the woman. He always kept things light, easy. It was the way he liked things, the way things suited him, but he was relatively sure that nothing was going to be easy with Gretchen—on any level. She had too much to prove where he was concerned, too many barriers. One of those sprang up now. He knew when she made the effort to control that trembling his unexpected touch had brought on. She was right. It wouldn’t do for the two of them to mix up the personal and the professional. They’d already discussed that issue.
And so he withdrew his hand, ended the contact that sent sensation in a warm arc through his body. He resisted the impulse to move closer, to step right into her space and drag her body up against his in a long, slow slide. He turned away and helped her finish shelving the groceries.
For long, languid seconds there was only the sound of cans clicking against cans, the whoosh of boxes being slid into place on the wooden shelves.
“David?” she finally asked.
He looked up and met the question in her eyes.
“Do you really think you can remain objective when this case is so tied into your own family?”
His brows drew together. He knew she had the right to ask although she’d already asked the question once before. It was a question that bore repeating given the gravity and the sensitive nature of the situation. Indeed, she had the obligation to demand the truth from him considering her responsibilities. But he knew her question was intended to raise a personal barrier as well as a professional one. She was letting him know that while he affected her breathing, she wasn’t going to let it matter.
“I’m a firm believer that the truth frees people,” he said. “I may not like the answers we discover, but I’ll do my best to make sure that we do, indeed, discover the whole truth. You’ll have my full cooperation no matter what. You can trust me, Gretchen.”
But he could see that there was still uncertainty in her eyes. There would probably always be uncertainty there until he could prove—if he could—that he meant what he said. She was wishing she had been sent any other man than him. Still, she took a deep breath and looked away.
“Down, Goliath. Sit,” she said softly but firmly when the little dog hopped around David, hoping for another chin scratching.
The dog immediately whimpered, but he did as he was told.
“I thought you said he was untrainable,” David said.
She shook her head. “I said that he was considered untrainable. I happen to believe that anything is possible if a person is determined enough.”
He smiled. “And yet you’re working with me when that really wasn’t what you wanted. You think you’re going to be rid of me?”
She smiled sweetly. “You don’t live in White horn anymore, David, do you? Don’t you think that if I really want to be rid of you, all I have to do is wait?”
David felt the impact of her smile—of her words—like a ball peen hammer to the chest. He forced a mock-sweet smile to his lips. “Ah, Gretchen, my dearest detective, what a wonderful, ripping way you have with words. Tears at a man’s heart just to hear you speak.”
She smiled back ever so innocently. “Oh, partner, I’m so glad we understand each other so well. Your candor is refreshing. Still, it’s late and we have lots of miles to cover in the morning, so go home now. I wouldn’t want to have to sic my attack dog on you.”
David looked down at Goliath, who was still obediently sitting.
“She’s pretty bossy, isn’t she, buddy? Guess I’d better get out of here before she starts ordering me to sit, too.” The little dog whimpered and wiggled slightly, obviously wanting a goodbye pat but not willing to leave his post.
Gretchen looked at the two doleful males in front of her and let out the grin she’d been holding back.
“All right, Goliath. Go ahead,” she said with a small shake of her head.
The little dog bounded over for a touch from David and received what he was looking for.
“You need some male companionship, buddy, you let me know,” David said. “Or maybe some tips on how to worm your way past some bigger dog into a lady’s heart.”
“David,” Gretchen drawled as the maddening man raised his brows and gave her that warm seductive smile she was beginning to know too well. Really, this man was just way too smooth for her to ever feel restful in his presence. He’d obviously been born to reel women in with just a look.
“Gretchen,” he drawled, imitating her tone. “Tomorrow I want to see the construction sites where the bodies were found. We’ll go right after morning coffee at the Hip Hop Café.”
She nodded before she realized he was calling the shots again. Automatically she opened her mouth to protest.
He tilted his head slightly and gave her a serious, questioning look with those deep emerald eyes of his that sent a spark zipping through her entire body.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice low and sexy.
He was playing a game with her. She knew that. She could either fall into the trap by arguing with him or she could refuse to play. Gretchen was absolutely positive that David was a master at the game of winning a woman’s attention. She was good at what she did, but so was he. And she was in way over her head right now in this cozy space with David Hannon’s broad shoulders filling up her kitchen and her vision.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the subject. “Thank you,” she said instead. “For carrying in my groceries.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back.