Tasting Fear Read Online Free PDF Page B

a stop at the red light.
    She, Nancy D’Onofrio, the born multitasker, couldn’t even think about the man while driving.

Chapter
2
    L iam followed Nancy’s car with his eyes. Her taillights were a thread of connection until the car turned. He wanted to sprint to the end of the block, catch another glimpse. He didn’t. He had that much self-control.
    Though that was about as much as could be said for it.
    He let his breath out. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he hadn’t seen that one coming. He ran down the steps, and got into the truck. Eoin, the Irish kid fresh from County Wicklow who worked for him, gave him a questioning glance. “So? What are we doing?” he asked.
    He shrugged. “We’re getting on with it.”
    Eoin’s blue eyes widened. “The daughter wants to go ahead?”
    He nodded, squeezing his hand around the sense memory of Nancy D’Onofrio’s cool, slender fingers. Eoin caught the vibe, the sensitive, curious little bastard, and shot him a sidelong glance.
    “Daughter’s a looker, eh?” he commented.
    “She just put her mother in the ground yesterday,” Liam snarled.
    Eoin mumbled something apologetic that made Liam feel like hypocritical shit. Like he had a right to scold, after what he’d said. What the fuck was he thinking, coming on to a woman who’d just buried her mother? Still wearing her funeral dress? Red-eyed from crying? She probably took him for one of those slimy opportunists who preyed on grieving women. Idiot words, popping out of his mouth like they were spring-loaded. Telling her how beautiful she was. Christ, his tongue had probably dangled out of his head like a slavering hound while he said it.
    Lucia D’Onofrio had been a classy old lady. Funny, smart, with a sharp, cutting sense of humor. She’d reminded him of Mom. He’d known Lucia for only a few weeks, but even so, her death made him feel as if something had been taken from him. A fucking burglar? What a stupid, offensive shame. It made him restless and furious.
    “Ah…what are we doing?” Eoin asked cautiously.
    “Waiting for the goddamn rain to ease off,” Liam retorted.
    Eoin flinched and averted his face.
    Liam cursed, softly. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just…it pisses me off. About Mrs. D’Onofrio. It’s not your fault.”
    “It’s okay.” Eoin’s voice was long-suffering. “Don’t worry about it.”
    Liam felt Nancy D’Onofrio’s business card in his pocket and pulled it out. Her name was printed in bold, curvy letters that stood out sharply from the creamy paper. Just like the woman. Bold. Curvy.
    He stuck the card in his pocket before Eoin could catch him fondling it. Usually he didn’t care for women who dressed in black. He found it affected. Nancy didn’t look affected. Her tight tailored black dress made her skin look pearly pale and her red-brown hair redder. That tight bun showed off every finely molded detail of her face. Only a woman with amazing bone structure could get away with a look that severe. The secretly sensual governess look. And he wanted to play her horny, unscrupulous lord of the manor. Sign him up for that.
    He could have looked at her face for hours, always finding something new to admire. And her cheek looked so fine, so soft.
    Not affected. Sharp, elegant, to be reckoned with. A female ninja assassin. The perfectly formed girl who undulated in the opening credits of a Bond movie. A fantasy woman.
    Yeah, and paying the crew out of his own pocket for an undetermined interval, that was a fucking fantasy, too.
    But he couldn’t let a chance to see her again slip away. She was so elusive. So wounded and wary. Going after her would be like catching fish with his hands. Christ, what an idiot he was. He scared himself.
    He flung the car door open. “Let’s get started,” he growled.
    Eoin peered up at the rain running down the windshield, started to say something, thought better of it. He sighed and followed him out.
    Liam gave himself the grim mental lecture while they