Not the Marrying Kind (Destiny Bay Romances - Forever Yours) Read Online Free PDF Page B

local police. You see, there's a new emphasis on white-collar crime, especially in areas like this where there’s new money and people who like to speculate with it. We're working under a special federal law-enforcement grant. We're kind of a penthouse bunco squad.”
    “White-collar crime?”
    “Swindles. Real estate scams. Investment fraud. Setting up suckers where they have to throw in a lot of money to reach a tempting goal, but somewhere down the line the goal evaporates on them, and they never get their money back. In the past that sort of thing has been prosecuted on a hit-or-miss basis, changing attorneys with the changing seasons. What we're trying to do is set up a separate unit of investigators and attorneys who will stay with each case from undercover work right on through conviction and sentencing.”
    His eyes were shining as he talked, and she could see he loved his job. He loved playing at being a crook.   How deep did it go?  
    No.   She didn’t belong here, belong with him, belong in his world.   It was just as well.   She felt a tinge of sadness.   This man was not for her.   In an hour, she would probably see the last of him.   And she ought to be glad of it—so why was there a stinging sensation in her eyes?
    “So you were working on the undercover stage when we ran into each other,” she said, trying to get her mind off her thoughts.   “But why did the police go through with the charade of sticking you in counseling for six months?”  
    He shrugged, chasing a stray chip of ginger around the edge of his lacquer tray with his chopsticks. “It's all part of the attempt at verisimilitude. I'll show up for the first few appointments, but once this case is closed, I'll drop out.”
    She cocked her head to the side, looking at him speculatively. “Maybe you ought to take this opportunity to get some real help,” she told him, not noticing how his brows drew together at her suggestion. “Jeff ... I mean, Doctor Kramer's very good at psychotherapy.”
    “What makes you think I might need psychotherapy?” The low silkiness of the voice warned her he hadn't taken kindly to her idea. He'd abandoned his lunch and was staring at her with very little humor left in his eyes.
    Uh oh.   She felt a catch in her heartbeat.   He was so very attractive—and so very wrong for her.   She knew that instinctively.   He was danger and excitement.   She was careful preparation and cautious contentment.  
    Would it be worth the risk to fall in love with a man like this?   Maybe.   But that was something she would never find out.   Nope.   Not her style at all.  
    “Everyone can use a sounding board now and then,” she covered vaguely. “You know, this California roll is really very good.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and chewed on it innocently, glancing almost surreptitiously to see what Michael had left on his plate. The roll hadn't been large at all, and she was still hungry.  
    “Why don't you give me some analysis?” His hand reached across the table, suddenly covering hers.  
    She looked up quickly, eyes widening.   His touch was just a little familiar, a little too warm, startling her. But he held tightly, and the tease was back in his eyes.  
    “I'll have the appointments set up with you instead of Doctor Kramer. I'm sure you could help me uncover all my neuroses in record time.”
    “I can't do it,” she squeaked out, embarrassed by the shakiness of her voice. “I'm not a fully qualified psychologist yet. I'm only interning.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Just a baby shrink, are you?”
    She stumbled on quickly, trying to explain. “I do some counseling. I've got a limited license as a therapist. And I teach a night class at the local junior college on Thursday nights. But I can't take contract work from government agencies.” She drew her tongue across her lips. “You see, I've completed all my classwork, but I've got a certain amount of intern hours to