The Chase Read Online Free PDF Page A

ortho. See if you can get in there tomorrow.”
    She dumped her briefcase on the sparkling glass table just past the breakfast bar. “Yes, Daddy.”
    Smartass . “Call him now so I know you did it.”
    “Gabe, I’ll call him. Can I take my shoes off please?”
    The apartment had a combo dining room-living room layout. Surrounding a door leading to the balcony were floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a sliver of the Hudson River and the Manhattan skyline just beyond. To his left was a short hallway with a couple of doors. Bedroom and bath probably.
    Maybe he’d ask for a tour.
    Of the bedroom.
    If the modern chrome furnishings in the main area gave a clue, he expected the bedroom to be just as adventurous. The only blast of color in the otherwise gray, black and white space was a bright red rug under the table. Somehow it fit her personality. All business except for the simmering spark underneath.
    Yeah. He wanted to see the bedroom.
    “Crap,” she said from the sofa where she had her slacks pulled to her knees. “I’m sorry, but would you help me with these boots? I need two hands to pull them off.”
    He kneeled in front of her, grabbed a hold of the boot and glanced up. “Ready?” Her lips slid into a snarky grin. This should be good. “Go ahead, say it.”
    She must have reconsidered, because she shook her head. “No. I’ll control myself. Except…”
    He sat back on his haunches. “Yes?”
    “Except…” She stomped her free foot. “I can’t stand it. I have to say it.”
    Trying not to laugh became an effort. As nuts as she made him, she was entertaining. He gave into the urge and laughed. Why not? Considering he had urges happening on several levels. The professional in him ignored the brain in his crotch and focused on her lush lips that were quirked into a wicked grin. His hands were on her, his fingers moving over the suede of her boot before he gave it a good yank. “So say it already.”
    She leaned forward and her blues eyes sparkled. “Oh, Sergeant,” she said, in her best sex kitten voice. “I’ve waited so long to bring you to your knees.”
    Shit . The brain in his crotch snapped to, but the big brain’s focus was on her bringing him to his knees and every comeback got gobbled up by that vision.
    Yep, he was gone. Totally wasted.
    She rolled backward, her arms held high, the victor in their battle of who could out-sass the other.
    That did it. No way he’d let her win. “Sweetheart,” he said, “all you had to do was ask.”
    “Dang it.” She punched her fist in the air. “Thought I had you.”
    She had him all right. Good thing his cargo pants were loose, because he had one hell of a boner.
    Putting aside thoughts of him on his knees in her bedroom, he grabbed hold of the other boot, pulled it off and set it next to its mate on the floor. “Call the doc. Running out of day here. Then we need to talk about you and these hits.”
    “Blah, blah.” She rose from the sofa and pointed to the spot she’d vacated. “Have a seat while I call. I figure since you drove me to Jersey, I should treat for dinner. You up for it, sailor?”
    He boosted himself to the L-shaped sofa and nearly died because he could stretch his big body into it.
    He’d marry her just for the sofa. Smart mouth and all.  
    As soon as she made that appointment, he’d convince her that for her own safety, she should not participate in the hits. After that pipe to her knuckles, it shouldn’t be hard. He’d simply lay it out for her and make her see reason. His team could bag and tag any items she needed while she stayed safely in her office.
    The upshot would be that if he could create enough distance between them, he wouldn’t have to see her all the time. Maybe then they could explore the more personal aspects of their relationship.
    He wouldn’t mind spending the impending winter keeping Jo warm.
    Gabe pulled his own boots off and stretched back. Outside, the lights of Manhattan came alive against