Free Millionaire's Last Stand by Elle Kennedy

yesterday, and the clothing still looked a little damp. Her hair had a slight wave to it too, as it hung down her back, the deep auburn tresses gleaming from the morning sunshine streaming into the kitchen.
    She was an incredibly beautiful woman, even when tired and rumpled. His body tightened with arousal just looking at her. And his mind was anxious for more details about her. It troubled him that he wanted to know everything about Jamie Crawford. He knew she’d grown up poor, but there was so much more left to discover. Like why she’d joined the FBI, what she did in her spare time, her favorite movies.
    What she would look like naked and moaning as he made love to her…
    He nearly choked on his coffee. Man, definitely not the right train of thought. Hadn’t he just decided that getting involved with this woman—with any woman—was a bad idea?
    “Do you want me to drop Elmer off to his owner or will you?” Jamie asked as she sipped her drink, oblivious to the inappropriate thoughts running rampant in his head.
    “I’ll do it when I go for a run.”
    Her eyes twinkled. “You run?”
    “Every morning,” he confirmed.
    “Me too. It’s part of my routine—coffee, toast, a run and then work.”
    “Maybe we could go running together while you’re here.”
    The suggestion slipped out before he could stop it, and he regretted it immediately, especially when a flicker of reluctance crept into her lavender eyes. She didn’t want to get involved either, he had to remind himself. She’d told him so last night.
    “Yeah, maybe,” she said noncommittally in reply to his offer. “If there’s time.”
    Her words reminded him that she still had a murder case she was helping the sheriff solve, which made him think of his ex-wife again, and with that, his body stiffened, and this time it wasn’t from desire.
    “Will you keep me posted on any progress you make?” he asked roughly.
    “I’ll try.” She took a long swallow of coffee and shot him a tired look. “Let’s just hope there’s progress to be made.”
    She hesitated as if she wanted to say more, and Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it?”
    “At some point, we’ll need to discuss your ex-wife’s affairs. I’m going to need more details.”
    Pride tensed his jaw. “I told you everything I know about that. Parker Smith is the only one whose name she mentioned.”
    Jamie put down her mug and bridged the distance between them, gently putting a hand on his arm. An instantaneous burst of heat seared through him.
    “I know it’s uncomfortable to talk about, but anything you know about the affairs will help.”
    He studied her face. “You think one of Teresa’s lovers may have killed her?”
    “It’s a possibility.” She made a face. “Though apparently there was no limit to who she pissed off, so at this point, anyone and everyone is a possibility.”
    He gave a derisive snort and was about to respond when the keypad by the back door buzzed, indicating that the gate had been disabled. Since Ian was the only other person who had the security codes, Cole wasn’t surprised when a few moments later footsteps sounded from the hallway and Ian called, “Cole? You awake?”
    “In here,” he called back.
    Ian appeared in the doorway, holding a black leather briefcase in one hand. “Morning, boss. I just flew in to—” He suddenly noticed Jamie. “Oh. Hello.”
    “Ian, this is Special Agent Jamie Crawford,” Cole introduced. “She’s helping the sheriff with the case. Jamie, this is my assistant, Ian.”
    Extending a graceful hand, Jamie greeted the younger man with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
    After a moment of palpable confusion, Ian moved in for a handshake, then glanced at Cole in puzzlement. “The FBI is working the case now?”
    “I’m here unofficially,” Jamie explained.
    At seven o’clock in the morning?
    Ian’s unspoken question hung in the kitchen, and Cole could see the cautious interest on Ian’s