LITMIR.BIZ

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should get business out of the way before we get down to hot and sweaty?” A man’s voice, as rich and smoky as aged whiskey, emanated from the depths of the Queen Anne chair I had placed beside a table in the corner for working at nights.

      I froze, my skirt still hitched around my waist and my heart doing a perfect backflip. I didn’t have any appointments. My sole client was in county lockup.

      As I yanked my skirt down, I squinted but couldn’t make out my unwanted visitor’s features. As I hadn’t bothered to turn on the overhead light, the room remained dark. Good, he couldn’t have seen much.

      “Of course, I’m for skipping business altogether. Stripping off that blue silk thong over your endless legs would be a lot more interesting. It’s been a hell of a day.”

      My face burned. Of all the obnoxious men, this one took the cake. Carling’s office was next to mine so he had to be her client. Let her take his gigantic ego down a peg or two. In the meantime I wrapped the shreds of my dignity around me.

      “Excuse me, but you’re in the wrong office.” Each word dripped with the iciest disdain I could muster. “If you’re here for Carling—”

      “Hey, you’re here! For once I didn’t hear your car squealing to a stop.”

      I looked around. Carling stood with her shoulder propped against the doorjamb. “I see you two have met.”

      I was supposed to meet this oaf? With a tinge of desperation, I said, “I was just going to escort your client to your office.”

      She let out a hoot of laughter. “In my dreams. After you told me about your new case, I knew you would need an investigator so I called the best. Kate, meet Gabriel Chavez, P.I.” She flicked the switch on so the room flooded with light.

      Oh no, not him, although I probably should be grateful for the opportunity to meet the infamous police detective whose dismissal had actually bumped me and the federal corruption investigation of the U.S. Attorney’s office from headlines.

      I blinked against the glare as the man rose and sauntered toward me. He had chosen that chair deliberately, I realized, both to protect his back and to see who entered before he was spotted. Here was a man accustomed to danger and wanting the upper hand.

      Then I saw his face and was blindsided. God, talk about gorgeous.

      Gabriel Chavez personified Latin virility: jet-black hair that curled, golden skin stretched taut over knife-edged cheekbones, eyes the shade of dark Godiva chocolate, a sculpted poet’s mouth designed for long, soft kisses. Dressed in black jeans and black T-shirt, he had a tough, compact build with broad shoulders.

      Then he smiled, a flash of strong white teeth. Oh yeah, here was a man who could charm the pants off any woman within a hundred feet with one glimpse of that dimple.

      He extended his hand and manners dictated that I hold out my own. I intended only the briefest of grips, but nothing prepared me for the jolt of his skin against mine. A wave of heat singed every nerve ending from the tips of my fingers to the soles of my feet.

      I stepped back and nearly fell when my heel banged against a chair. With a smooth move, Gabriel caught and righted me. His arms slipped around me, bringing me into perfect alignment against the hard, muscular angles of his body.

      With an effort, I found my voice. “Um, I’m fine. You can let go now, Gabriel.”

      His bedroom eyes couldn’t have been hotter and more amused as he slowly shook his head. “Call me Gabe. And I’m quite happy with the way things are.”

      I inhaled, to blister him, and gasped. Even the smallest movement on my part caused us to rub together.

      He grinned. His warm masculine scent filled my nostrils, making me feel even woozier.

      Setting my teeth, I wiggled my hand trapped between our bodies. I caught a pinch of his rib flesh and gave a sharp twist. He yelped and released me. I shook my fist at him.

      “Listen macho man. I have been mauled and mugged two times already today and I’ve had it up to here!”

      My outburst finally got a rise out of Carling, who had contented herself to watch our play-by-play with great interest. She rushed to me.

      “What do you mean, you were mugged?”

      “A guy…at least I think the thief was male…grabbed my briefcase as I was leaving the jail.”

      Now that my hormonal surcharge was subsiding, my feet were back to screaming for attention. I limped over to my chair and sat, dropping the tote bag on the floor.

      “I gave chase but lost him when he ducked behind a bus.”

      “Let me see those.” Gabe knelt before me and lifted a foot. His dark brow arched. “You chased him without your shoes on?”

      I winced as he prodded a cut. “I thought it was wiser than breaking my neck from running in four-inch heels.”

      “You actually think? Did you think about the consequences of chasing some punk by yourself?”

      I tried to tug my foot free, but his strong fingers were like a vise.

      “I can take care of myself.”

      “Right, that’s why you look like you’ve been run over by a truck.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Carling, can you bring me a washcloth and a first-aid kit? These cuts need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

      No way did I want to be left alone with this man. We could call Nicole for help. I shot a pleading glance at Carling, but my traitorous friend was already out the door.

      With as dignified tone as I could muster, I said, “You don’t need to stay, Mr. Chavez. Carling and I can manage.”

      He winked. “We have business to discuss, remember?” His touch was gentle but impersonal as he examined the cuts on my sole. Wow, were my feet throbbing! I tried to see around Gabe’s head to see how deep the cuts were. Then I caught sight of the fire-engine-red toenail polish the manicurist had talked me into yesterday instead of my usual pink.

      What messages did a woman send with that color? I almost surrendered to the urge to wiggle my toes to see if any polish was chipped.

      I heard Gabe’s low voice rumbling. With an effort, I focused.

      “What did you say?”

      “Carling says you need an investigator for the old courthouse murder case.”

      “Mr. Chavez, I don’t think you’re suitable for the position.”

      Uh-oh. He released my one foot only to wrap his fingers around the other ankle. Good thing I’d had my legs waxed as well yesterday. As he pressed his fingers, the action took on the semblance of a massage.

      “It’s Gabe, remember.”

      “What?”

      “My name.”

      “I know who you are.” My embarrassment made for loose lips. “Your exploits as a detective were headline news up right through the time you punched out your captain and you were fired.”

      My God, was that Aunt Hilary’s biting primness I heard coming from my mouth?

      Gabe lowered my foot; I could have whimpered.

      “Was that a rebuke I heard? You of all people should understand about being on the receiving end of a scandal.”

      He had me there. Leaning forward, I looked into his dark fathomless eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. It’s been a long hellish day. No.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s a cop-out. You ever have a frightening moment when you become exactly like the people who raised you…even when you swore a million times you wouldn’t?”

      He nodded. “Both the good and the bad of our folks are stamped upon our makeup.”

      “Exactly. I just had an ‘Aunt Hilary’

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