Free Undercover Passion by Raye Morgan Page B

might constitute a substance to bring on this lovesick fog thing. Nothing jumped out at him. He hesitated over a small piece of cake on a plate in the refrigerator. It had obviously been nibbled on. Something about it reminded him of Alice in Wonderland and he shrugged. Why not? He pulled a small evidence bag from the stash he always kept in his pocket and broke off a piece to take to the lab.
    The water came to a boil and he poured it out into the waiting teapot, then stepped quickly to the bathroom, doing a fast raid of the medicine cabinet and taking two more samples, though he didn’t hold out much hope for either one.
    â€œI think this new spray I bought is doing the job.”
    Abby’s voice came to him from down the hall. Surprisingly, it stopped him cold.
    â€œThat’s great,” he called back.
    He looked down at the sample bag in his hand and for just a moment he felt guilty. He was snooping around behind her back. This wasn’t a good thing.
    But it was a necessary thing. And a part of his job. After all, the investigation had come first. His friendship with Abby was a by-product of the research he was doing.
    What the hell was wrong with him? Just get on with it.
    He set his jaw. One more room to check and he didn’t have much time.
    Her bedroom was dark. All he needed was one quick look at what she had on her dresser, and then he would be back out in the living room, acting innocent. Reaching around the corner, he didn’t feel a light switch. He took a couple of steps into the darkness, reaching out to try to make contact with a toggle or a dimmer switch, judging just about where he would think one would have to be.
    But instead of the wall, his hand came in contact with something furry. He saw a pair of golden eyes at the same time he heard the high-pitched screech as something came hurtling at his head.
    â€œHey!” he yelled out, batting it away, and something dark went scuttling from the room.
    â€œDaniel?” Abby was coming down the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
    He got out of the bedroom in time, but he couldn’t hide the scratch across his cheek.
    â€œWhat have you got in here? A tiger?” he demanded, wiping a line of blood from the wound.
    â€œOh, no!” she cried.
    He looked up pathetically, expecting sympathy and coddling, but Abby was rushing right past him into the living room, searching for the animal.
    â€œMing! Are you okay?”
    She found the cat behind the couch and pulled her out, petting her and cooing. He knew it was a petty thing, but the fact that her first concern was for the cat really annoyed him. Especially when he could have sworn that cat was looking at him smugly over her shoulder.
    â€œHow many people keep an attack cat in their apartment?” he asked grumpily, dabbing at the wound with a tissue as he came in and sat down in an armchair.
    â€œYou scared her.”
    â€œShe leaped at me out of the dark. I had to defend myself.”
    â€œOh. You are bleeding, aren’t you?”
    She finally realized, did she? He was gratified to see a look of sympathy on her face. About time.
    â€œMing is sorry,” she said, her tone just a touch sarcastic. “Aren’t you, kitty? It would be a shame to have that handsome face all scratched up.”
    Putting the cat down, she went to the kitchen cupboard and took down a bottle of disinfectant, reaching for cotton balls at the same time.
    He stared after her, startled. For just a moment there, she sounded like her old self, as though the love bug had worn off.
    But as she dabbed at his wound, she chatted cheerfully, intimately, giving him looks that left no doubt as to where her emotions lay. Maybe he’d imagined it. Or maybe she just loved her cat so much, mere romance couldn’t meet the standard set there.
    â€œCome on,” she said when she was done. “I’ll pour you a cup of tea.” She sighed. “If I wasn’t on a diet,