Spirited 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

not even suspicion. She would have described it as bored, except for his bird-of-prey gaze that locked with hers.
    “I told you, I know lavender when I see it. I didn’t find any lavender.” He delivered the statements tonelessly. Still maintaining that hawklike eye contact, he added, “I thought you went to a party.”
    “I did go to a party. Jeez, you are so suspicious.” Jules waved away his mistrust, then his previous statement registered. “Wait, you didn’t find the lavender?”
    “No.” He glanced toward his open bedroom door as if to reassure himself. “The only baggie was the one in there.” He pointed to the purse he’d flung onto his faded faux-leather couch.
    “I can’t believe I’ve lost something else! What is wrong with me, lately?” Jules raked her teeth across her lower lip. When was the last time she’d seen the herb? “I had it outside your apartment. I’m sure of it. I remember pushing it out of my way as I searched for my keys last night. I know I didn’t take it out of the purse. Are you certain you didn’t see it?”
    “Maybe it slipped under the bed,” he answered, scratching his stubbled cheek. “I can look—”
    Jules didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence; she hurried to the bedroom. Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled partway under the cherrywood sleigh bed, skimming her fingers across the floor. She shouldn’t be so upset over missing a three-dollar bag of herbs, but she was getting tired of losing things. It would be nice if she could find something . . . for once.
    “April really needs this to help her relax,” she called out to him as she shimmied beneath the wooden frame.
    The cop made a sound that was cross between a grunt and a snort. “You don’t seriously believe in that New Age hocus pocus?”
    “It’s not hocus pocus,” she replied, then shoved herself farther under the bed.
    She opened her mouth then closed it again at what she found beneath his bed. The man had the cleanest floor she’d ever seen. There was nothing under there, not even a stray dust bunny in want of a new home.
    Wow, Seth the Cop’s a neat freak.
    She started to scoot back out when she spotted the shiny edge of the baggie poking out of a narrow space between the bed leg and the wall. Relief swept through her, and she grabbed it and scooted out.
    “All ready to cure whatever ails with your magic lavender?” he asked, a chuckle in his voice.
    “Don’t believe me,” she said, rising to her knees before him. She held up the bag of fragrant tiny purple dried flowers triumphantly. “But aromatherapy works, even on stodgy old guys like you.”
    “I’m not that much older than you,” he answered, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
    “So says you,” she teased, still smiling.
    He nodded. His eyes lowered and an indefinable look crossed his face. Jules felt her own smile fade at his inscrutable expression, then she followed his visual path.
    The top button of her polo had popped free, revealing the lacy edge of her pale pink bra.
    No, he’s definitely not a dirty old man. Dirty young man, maybe.
    She tugged her shirt back in place and quickly re-buttoned it, certain her cheeks glowed in matching color to her underwear.
    He stared down at her with his hands on his hips, his chocolate-colored eyes nearly black, and his hungry expression sent her pulse racing. Then images zinged into her mind.
    Like an erotic movie, she saw herself tugging down his pajama bottoms and taking him into her mouth. She practically felt his hands on her head, his fingers curling into her hair as he guided her back and forth over his shaft a few times until she delivered the long, wet strokes he craved. Her heart hammered as she listened to him groan and encourage her. It was so real, the silken steel of his erection, the heady scent of sandalwood and male musk, the way his hands caressed her hair and face as he murmured encouragement.
    The only thing missing was taste. This had to