Free Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) by Anne Marie Novark Page A

fire.
The woman turned his blood into flames. It might be forty degrees
outside, but Dillon felt sweat drip down his collar. He couldn't
remember the last time he'd been this hot and bothered.
    She shivered again. Dillon backed her into
the entry hall of the condo and closed the door. Claire went rigid
and started to pull away.
    "Shh, babe. It's just a kiss. One kiss."
    "You need to redo the math," she
whispered.
    "To hell with the math."
    He captured her mouth again and plunged in.
He couldn't let her go yet. He wanted her with a fierceness that
startled him. He knew he should move slowly, but he wanted her
yearning and hungry. Like he yearned and hungered. For her.
    Dillon ended the kiss and leaned his forehead
against Claire's. She kept her eyes closed for a moment before
opening them. Her breath came in gasps. He felt the warm wisps on
his chin. He wanted to kiss her again, but thought better of it.
With reluctance, he put her from him.
    "I'll see you tomorrow at work." He let
himself out. He had to get away before he broke his resolve. He
couldn't rush her. She wasn't ready. He didn't know if he was ready
either. His feelings for Claire were complicated. Just like the
woman.
    Damn! When had sex ever been complicated?
    Dillon drove back to the apartment. Brozek
was waiting at the door.
    "You make a move on her yet?" His partner
leaned on the jamb with his arms folded across his chest.
    "Shut up." Dillon walked past him into the
living room. He dropped the computer disks on the coffee table and
headed for the kitchen. "Start looking at those files I downloaded.
Is there any beer left?"
    Brozek sank down on the sofa. "Should be
plenty. I stopped by the store this afternoon."
    Dillon popped the top on his beer and sat at
his work station. "Where'd you go?"
    "Is this an interrogation?" Brozek asked.
"You're not the only one entitled to time off, you know."
    "Weren't you supposed to be studying the
surveillance video this afternoon?"
    "That only took a couple of hours. I went
out. All work and no play--remember?"
    Dillon scowled. "Did anything show up on the
video?"
    "Nothing much. Except for the little French
guy."
    "The chef?"
    "Yeah, he's been in and out of all three
offices at different times during the week, when they were
unoccupied. I spotted him on a computer in the cafe early one
morning before hours. You need to keep an eye on him."
    "Claire swears it isn't Pierre." Dillon
didn't think so either. The chef didn't fit the profile of a
hacker.
    "How would she know?" Brozek asked.
    "She wouldn't. Anything else?"
    Brozek accessed the first disk and brought up
the files. "Yeah, how'd dinner go?"
    "We're talking about work, not my social
life." Dillon reached for his beer.
    "Man, you are no fun anymore. You need to
make your move and relieve the tension or you're going to explode.
And that will not be pretty, let me tell you."
    Dillon's grip tightened on the can. The
thought of exploding inside Claire filled his mind and body. Damn,
she'd felt good in his arms. All soft and supple against him.
    "Shove it, Brozek," he said, tossing back
half the beer.
    His partner started humming an old Beatles
tune as he looked over the data. "I'll scan the files from the
chef's computer first. See what's going down."
    "You do that. I want to take a look at the
video. Pierre's up to something and I intend to find out what it
is."
    ****
    Claire stared at the columns on the
spreadsheet and sighed in exasperation. Three times she'd entered
the wrong numbers and three times deleted and started over. Enough
was enough. She saved the file. Other things required her attention
right now and she'd get back to the spreadsheet later.
    Walking across the hall, Claire opened Nat's
door. Frank Winslowe was seated behind the computer with Natalie
nowhere in sight.
    He looked at Claire and smiled, pushed his
glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued pecking on the
keyboard.
    Claire stepped inside. "Hey, Frank. What are
you doing in here? Where's