Slave to Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

don't need it,” he said without thinking. Aw, hell . He straightened. “I mean—”
    She tilted her head. “You don't like my hooker make-up?”
    “Sure I do, but you look just fine without any at all.” She always wore it to work, but he recalled the time in the market when he’d watched her, hidden in the next isle...
    “Uh-huh. Well, I tried that strategy in high school. Can't say's it worked.”
    He dabbed at a remnant of red lipstick. “Not a lot of dates, eh?”
    Her lip curled wryly. “Not until college.”
    He studied her for a second, wondering what the hell was wrong with boys back then. He wouldn’t have lost any time getting her in his back seat and— Shit . “Okay, I'll let you keep the eyes.”
    “Gee, thanks.” Her amused smile turned sincere. “For everything. You've been awful nice to a damned female rookie.”
    “Don't mention it.”
    She broke eye contact and watched him toss the last towelette. “Going back up?”
    He nodded, pulling out some more gloves. Definitely time to get out of there.
    She plucked the jar of menthol from the kit and twisted it open. He almost groaned when she reached up and smoothed a slippery finger above his lip. For some reason he didn't tell her nobody used the stuff but wimps and first-timers. The gel felt cool and hot all at the same time. Innocent and incredibly erotic. It put him in mind of slippery fingers smoothing over other things in other places.
    He jerked away, unwilling to let the fantasy go any further. “I have to get back up.”
    “I'm coming.” She smeared menthol under her own nose and gingerly hoisted the trash bag.
    “Caroline, you don't need—”
    “Yes, I do. I'll never live it down if I hide in here like a chicken-shit. And you won't either.”
    He picked up the kit and handed her a new pair of gloves. “Pretty smart for a damned rookie.”
    “Bet on it.”
    Ignoring the guffaws and pointed looks when they emerged from the powder room together, he marched straight up the stairs after directing a passing tech to dispose of the trash bag.
    “Hey, McGraw?” she ventured, right behind him.
    “Yeah?”
    “So, when are we going shopping?”
    He paused at the landing, shooting her a puzzled look. Her coy smile should have warned him. Like a dolt, he asked, “Shopping for what?”
    He could already feel the first Arctic snowflakes swirling around him when she answered sweetly, “Black leather.”

 
    Chapter 3
    Before pulling open the door to the conference room the next morning, Caro took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    She'd do fine, she told herself. She'd survived the crime scene yesterday, and Mick had been okay with her small lapse of decorum. Nice, even. No reason to think he would have changed his mind about having her on the task force this morning.
    She was a few minutes early. Mick sat at the head of the table totally absorbed in his work. He looked beat, his eyes filled with that soft, little-boy-lost look she'd seen on rare occasions when he didn't think anyone was watching. It never failed to spin her heart in her chest.
    He glanced up, snapping to awareness.
    “I can carve out a couple of hours around two this afternoon for that shopping expedition,” he said, returning a sharp gaze to the stack of files on the table in front of him.
    “Okay.” She walked past and continued down the table. “I'll drop by your office.” She chose a chair close to the far end. “By the way, where will I be?”
    He looked up again, brow raised.
    “Where will my desk be? Or should I just use the one I've got in SIS?”
    “No,” McGraw said quickly. “I'll dig up something. Use the task force room in the meantime. There's a computer and printer in there, and a copier, so you can write up the reports and get them out to everyone.”
    She was glad she'd be billeted in the task force room, where the action was. She'd never been on a task force before and it would be exciting to see the complete workings.
    He checked his watch