Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)(29)

Drugs did kill.

For now, Josie had to concentrate on the present and not the past. This current mess with Shane could cost her the promotion she wanted.

Navy blue industrial carpet cushioned her steps as she wound through the quiet hall to the main hub of the floor. Several secretaries busily typed away in rows of cubicles filling the center space as phones rang and printers whooshed. A trill of laughter threaded among the squeaking of desk chairs. The aroma of floral perfume and vanilla coffee scented the air.

She reached her office, hurrying inside and shutting the door to keep noise out. She didn’t have time to mess around—now she needed to go get a bunch of new clients to compete with freakin’ Daniel.

Hurrying toward her desk, she glanced at her appointment book.

“Hi, angel.” The heavy oak door swished shut behind her, the lock engaging with a click.

She froze. In slow motion, she turned around. The files trembled in her hands.

“Sit down.” Shane had been waiting against the wall. He tilted his head toward a leather guest chair. She’d chosen the light brown carefully to match the chairs her foster father Arthur had had in his office so many years ago. Classy and plush.

The phone. She could get to it, or she could scream. But if she screamed, who’d come running? Her secretary, Vicki? Vicki couldn’t handle Shane. Crap. She’d probably take one look at the soldier and rip his clothes off.

“Now.” He wore a fresh black shirt and new jeans, kick-ass boots covering his size thirteens.

“Nice boots.” Josie tossed the file on the desk and slid into a chair. She was wearing three-inch heels on her feet; they’d cause serious pain if necessary.

“Turns out I had cash hidden at the bungalow. Went shopping earlier.” He stalked forward and dropped into the matching chair, swiveling her to face him. Both legs stretched out on either side of hers, trapping her. “Miss me?”

“No.” She straightened her back with a sharp snap. So he admitted he’d stalked her from the bungalow. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Either way, her chest hurt. “How’s the head?” A new bruise covered his left temple. From her foot. Her grin even felt malicious.

“Excellent kick, angel.” He leaned forward, his hands clasping her knees above her skirt, his scent of heated cedar washing over her. “I taught you well.” He wore his soldier face today, no expression showing. But those eyes. Dark, gray, and swirling with emotion. He usually veiled better.

Her abdomen began to hum… in warning and something darker. A feminine desire for him to explain everything—for him to say it was real. But the only thing that was real was the lust they’d felt. Still felt. “Don’t make me kick you again.”

His smile slid slow and sure across his face. Dangerous. “Ah, darlin’, I’d love for you to try it again.” His hands dipped under the skirt, pushing the silk up, his palms heating her thighs. “Something occurred to me last night.”

Desire rippled through her with memories of what those hands could do. Even lying to her, he’d exploded her world. She grabbed his hands, halting their journey. So close to where her body was beginning to ache. The man knew her body and exactly how to play her. The thought brought both unease and intrigue. “What’s that?” Her voice came out hoarse.

“I’ve been too easy on you.” He flipped one hand over, easily trapping both of hers. “Treated you with kid gloves, kept you out of my life.”

She frowned, her lids dropping. “You remember.”

“No.” He sighed, his free hand curving to the side of her thigh and heading toward her hipbone. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. What you were able to do by kicking me in the face.” He traced a path over her thigh toward her core, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “Let me feel you, Josie.” Three fingers pressed against the outside of her panties. “Just once. Before everything goes to shit. Open for me, baby.”

Electric shocks cascaded out from his fingers. Molten lava. Fire whipped through her until she tilted against his hand. She knew the pleasure he could bring. Even with the pain that would follow, that pleasure was seductive. To get lost like that again. Sometimes to feel the fire, you had to get burned. She swallowed. They were in her office, for goodness’ sake. The temptation made her catch her breath. So much temptation.

So wrong.

This time the fire would consume her. She just knew it. So she tugged her wrists free, scooting back and smoothing down her skirt. “Keep your hands off me.”

Shane sat back, desire flushing red across his high cheekbones. “Never.”

“Stop it, Shane.” She clutched her jacket shut over throbbing breasts. Needy breasts. There was something seriously wrong with her. “The police are looking for you. No way can you get me out of this building.”

His lip quirked. “You think I’m here to take you?”

Well, yeah. Her face warmed. Of course he was there for her. The man wanted her, didn’t he? Temper lifted its head. “I assume most stalkers try to take their prey at some point.”

His teeth flashed in a smile. “You’re my prey now?”

Oh, most killers on television had charm, too. “You’ve been watching me. Stalking me. Some of those pictures in your bungalow go back three and a half years.” Her voice rose on the last.