Silk Confessions Read Online Free PDF Page B

Tem pest was part of his job. The fact that he happened to be enjoying himself was a bonus. “You must know that’s exactly what I’d expect from you highbrow types. You probably had a half ounce of cottage cheese on a lettuce leaf for lunch, right?”
    “Wrong again.” She set down their popcorn on a foldout shelf before pulling over one of the dining room chairs to sit beside him. Before she lowered herself into the chair, she whistled to Eloise and tossed the dog a pink Milk-Bone.
    “I bet I’m not far off.” Wes concentrated on the scent of popcorn in an effort to shut out the soft fragrance of the woman making herself comfortable next to him.
    She sure didn’t seem like the prostitution type, even with the high percentage of lacy undergarments still strewn around her apartment like visual sex triggers guaranteed to make him start drooling. And she didn’t seem to be hiding anything, either. Other than her lunch menu, of course.
    “I skipped lunch actually,” she finally admitted, her gaze fixed on the computer screen as he pulled up the “Properties” information box on the unnamed document informing Tempest she was in the wrong business.
    “Even worse than a lettuce leaf.” He tossed a handful of popcorn in his mouth and jotted down the time the document had been created. 12:53 pm. “You said you got home around two?”
    “I got to the building at five minutes before two. My meeting ran late today and then Eloise stopped to beg thehot pretzel vendor for a treat.” She glared at Eloise who sniffed the floor for any leftover crumbs.
    “It’s no wonder your dog has to beg on the street if you feed her like you feed yourself.” He cracked open his bottle of water and took a swig before digging into the popcorn bowl again. “But it’s a damn good thing you didn’t get here any sooner today since you missed your uninvited guest by less than an hour.”
    Wes didn’t want to think about how different his day would have been if he’d been called to Tempest’s apartment on an assault case. Or worse.
    His popcorn stuck in his throat.
    “Tell me why you think MatingGame is involved in prostitution.” Tempest tucked her feet underneath her thighs, folding herself up into a more comfortable position on her chair.
    Not that he’d let his gaze wander over her delectable body. He was simply making smart cop observations.
    Yeah, that was it.
    “Anonymous tip.” He clicked through a few more screens before opening her browser and surfing to the MatingGame site. “Add that to the fact that our murder victim had a reputation for visiting prostitutes every Saturday night, and then this past Saturday his appointment book had an entry to meet someone he designated simply as a blonde from MatingGame.”
    She wriggled in her seat beside him, the wooden dining room chair squeaking as she moved.
    “Maybe he got tired of paying for sex and decided to use a more tried and true means of getting horizontal.” She reached over him to point out a little red box at the bottom of the MatingGame home page. “Click here to move straight to the dating profiles.”
    “I don’t get paid to come up with the most creativescenarios for a crime. I follow the obvious path first.” Wes took a deep breath to steel himself against the surge of hunger brought on by the soft shift of her body be side his. She was close enough that he could hear the whisper of fabric as she moved. Her shoulder brushed his arm as she leaned in front of him, and he could have sworn one wayward curl of her dark hair skimmed his cheek.
    Of course, the breath that he hoped would steel his nerves only filled his nostrils with her warm, nutty scent—something sultry and feminine and definitely edible. Whatever it was, he damn well wanted a taste.
    He clicked the red box she’d indicated with a vengeance, hoping like hell she wouldn’t have any reason to point to the computer screen again. How could a man keep his mind on work with such an abundance of