Yeah, Tyler Sharp was dangerous, all right.
He was behind me now, and though I could no longer see him, I felt his presence as firm and gentle as a kiss. My breath caught in my chest, and I realized that I was anticipating the brush of his fingertips upon the nape of my neck, then his hand on my bare back, exposed in the halter-style dress.
But the touch never came—and my breath never came easy.
When he spoke, his voice was low, as if too much volume would break the spell. “You’re a riddle, Ms.…”
“O’Dell,” I whispered.
He was right there, but I couldn’t see him. I could only breathe in the scent of him, fresh and woody, like a forest after a rain. Sexy, enticing, and undeniably male. “Sloane O’Dell,” he said. “I like it.”
“I like the way you say it.” I kept my voice low and full of invitation.
“Do you?” he asked, as he finished the circle. “I’m very glad to hear it.”
I looked at him, at that perfect face, and felt my fingers twitch with the desire to touch him, a desire that was magnified because I could see only too well that it was returned. Tyler Sharp wanted me, too. Maybe he was teasing me, playing me. Maybe he had an agenda. I didn’t know. But my world centered around seeing—seeing people, seeing evidence, seeing the truth. And I saw the truth in the way Tyler’s eyes were dilated. In the slightest flush of color on his skin. In the way that his pulse beat just a tad too quickly in his neck.
Yes, he wanted me—and yet there was no denying that he was playing with me, too. We were locked in a game, and though I’d initiated it, I couldn’t claim to fully understand the rules.
I felt unanchored and slightly out of control. But at the same time, I felt more desperately alive than I had in a very long time.
With some effort, I managed to gather myself. “You never did say why you were looking for me.”
“No. I didn’t.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Forget chess; this was way more fun. “Am I supposed to guess?”
Instead of answering, he just smiled. Slow and easy and full of decadent promise. “Sloane,” he said. Just a syllable. Just a name. But it was my name, and it seemed to drip with honey. I wanted to taste it. Taste him.
A shiver raced up my spine. My inner thighs felt warm, and my breasts strained against the bodice of my dress. It had been years since I’d had such a pronounced reaction to a man. He might be as dangerous as they come, but that was part of what made my job exciting—the more dangerous the quarry, the bigger the thrill.
Tyler took a step forward, and I took a corresponding step back, then one more just because I wanted to clear my head. I realized too late that he’d edged me back against the pillar. I might have been trying to escape, but there was no place to go, especially not when Tyler leaned forward, pressing his palm to the pillar just over my shoulder. He was right there, right in front of me, so close I could feel the air thickening from the pressure.
“Tyler.” My voice was low, barely a whisper. “I don’t think—”
“No,” he said. “Don’t think. Just wait. Just close your eyes.”
I fought the urge to protest—this is what I wanted, after all. To get close to this man. To heat it up and see how far we could take it. No matter how out of control I might feel, I had to remember that this was my game, and though he might score a few points, I was the one who’d made up the rules.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, as I let my eyes flutter closed.
I concentrated on breathing, trying to ignore the way the tiny hairs on my arms stood up, a reaction to the electricity now swirling in the few inches that remained between us. He cupped my jaw with his free hand, then brushed his thumb lightly over my cheek. He was going to kiss me.
My mind was spinning so damn fast, reeling between excitement and wonder. He was a tool, a suspect, a criminal. Even so, I wanted this, and not because seduction was my endgame.