Free A Wicked Seduction by Janelle Denison Page B

“I’ve given you more fringebenefits than I usually give any person I’ve taken into custody.” She turned away before he could question her generosity and the trust she was extending on his behalf. She might have her doubts about him being the man the police sought, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.
    She returned to the dresser. “Now, what would you like from your duffle bag?”
    â€œThere’s a pair of gray cotton sweatpants in there,” he said from behind her. “I’ll sleep in those.”
    She opened the canvas bag and retrieved the article of clothing he’d mentioned, then glanced over her shoulder and forced herself to ask, “How about underwear?”
    He shook his head, the barest hint of a disarming smile curving his lips. “Too binding to sleep in.”
    Too binding to wear during the day, as well? she wondered. She’d find out soon enough. “How about a T-shirt?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m wearing the sweatpants purely out of courtesy. I don’t usually wear anything at all to bed.”
    Oh, boy. Cool sheets rustling against hot, bare skin flitted through her mind, a tempting, erotic vision she quickly banished. “Anything else that you want or need?”
    His eyes held hers, and the subdued lighting cast from the lamp between the two beds turned his irises a deep, golden-green hue. “There’s a whole lot that I want and need, Jo,” he murmured huskily, “but for now I’ll settle for my shaving kit.”
    A shiver rippled down her spine and caused her already sensitized breasts to swell with awareness. Inhaling a breath, she pulled out the leather toiletry bag and rummaged through the contents for anything that could be used as a weapon, and found nothing more dangerous than a razor to shave with. “Shampoo, soap and deodorant only,” she said, confiscating the sharped-edged instrument. “Sorry, no razors allowed.”
    â€œThen that’s all I need.” He blinked lazily, and added, “For now.”
    She put his sweatpants and the few toiletries she’d approved into the bathroom, then returned to release him. Sitting on the edge of the mattress near him, but careful to keep her revolver out of direct reaching distance, she unclipped her set of keys and leaned over to unlock the metal restraints shackling his hands—doing her best to dismiss the hot feel of his skin beneath her fingertips as she worked to unbind him.
    Once he was free, he slowly stood and rubbed his wrists while she fastened the cuffs along the top strap of her shoulder holster to use when he was done with his shower. Remaining seated on the bed, she motioned him in the middle of the room in front of her. “Go ahead and turn around, face the wall, and get undressed.” It was the only bit of privacy she’d allow.
    He did as she ordered. Watching him was merely a safety tactic, she told herself as he pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans and revealed an enticing strip of smooth flesh around his torso. A precautionary measure to ensure there was nothing lethal hidden on his person before he walked into the bathroom, she lectured herself as he worked the cotton material up and over his head and she stared in pure female fascination at the intriguing way the muscles bisecting his back pulled and stretched with the movement.
    Except safety and precaution had little to do with the pulsing knot of desire that once again formed in her stomach—a sensation that was much too pleasurable and not at all professional. Then again, taking into consideration the slow, purposeful way he was stripping, she had to wonder if he was deliberately attempting to tease her senses.
    If so, he was doing a damned good job.
    He dropped the shirt to the floor and toed off his shoes, then pulled off his socks, and again she was treated to another round of muscles rippling, in his arms and across his