Free Shades of Temptation by Virna Depaul

Or a task he needs to complete
for his own satisfaction. Maybe the burning suggests that preservation isn’t
deserved.”
    “Not deserved? Or rejected?”
    “Right.” She closed her eyes, took off her glasses and rubbed
the bridge of her nose. Not only did her muscles ache, especially those in her
leg, but she’d been working the case for so long today, her mind was beginning
to feel muddled.
    “You don’t wear glasses at work,” Jase said, his voice closer
than she’d expected.
    She looked up. He was now standing several feet from her, his
gaze intense. “No, I wear contacts.”
    “I would have expected you to wear glasses. To add to your
professional, back-off image. But I understand why you don’t. It would highlight
a weakness, wouldn’t it? One you want to hide. Just like you’re trying to hide
that your leg is bothering you right now.”
    “And you’re trying way too hard to psychoanalyze me, Jase.”
    “Maybe, but am I right?”
    “My leg is healing and I have P.T. exercises to do. That’ll
loosen things up before I go to bed. As far as why I don’t wear glasses to work,
it’s so I don’t have to worry about misplacing them. You and Lana should get
together if you really want to delve into the workings of my subconscious
mind.”
    “So you’re still seeing Lana? Did she sign off on assigning you
this case?’
    She glowered at him and opened her mouth to shoot off a sharp
retort, but he shook his head.
    “Never mind,” he said. “It just slipped out. Like I said
before, I care about you.”
    She wanted to believe him. Badly. But his increased
interest…his desire to help her… Both competed with the knowledge that he’d
wanted the lead on The Embalmer case. That he probably still did. As far as Jase
was concerned, she’d always be part and parcel of the job. She had to remember
that. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about her, too. Even just a
little. “Thank you, Jase,” she said simply. “I don’t take that lightly.”
    He glanced down at her leg. “You were starting to limp. Why
don’t you let me help you with your P.T. exercises and then rub you down before
you go to bed? That way you’ll be ready for your big day tomorrow.”
    She burst out laughing and he grinned. “What? Too obvious?”
    “Just a little,” she said. “Besides, you’ve spent enough time
helping me. And I don’t want to keep you. It looked like you had better options
for where you were going to spend the night than with me, working a case.”
    “You like throwing up my dating habits to me, don’t you,
Carrie? Why is that? Personally, I think it’s because I scare you and talking
about me with other women gives you a convenient shield.”
    She shrugged. “I just noticed the brunette you were talking to
was pretty, that’s all. She looked like your type.”
    “And what, exactly, do you know about my type?”
    “The same thing everyone else does. Gorgeous. Sweet. A good
time in the sack and not a whole lot of problems out of it.”
    “And you think less of me because of that? Because I want my
personal life to be as simple and pleasurable as possible?”
    “No. I understand why you’d want simple pleasures on your off
time. I just define simplicity a little differently and choose to focus on my
work instead.”
    “Hmm.” He glanced around, walked back to the sofa and sat down
again. When she just stared at him, he patted the cushions beside him. “So, if
you’re not scared and you know you’re not my type, sit beside me and let me rub
your leg out for you.” His gaze held a distinct challenge, one she immediately
wanted to run from.
    Instead, maybe because of all their talk about his women and
his type and her not being either one, she was feeling ornery enough to do what
he said. “Fine. I already told you, I’m not too proud to accept your help. Let’s
see what these magic fingers of yours can really do, Jase.” Casually, she
dropped onto the sofa hard enough that she