He'd been grumpy when she interrupted his work. He wouldn't appreciate her following him. She hoped he led her to another clue for her case. Distance would be best. Not too much though, in case she needed to step in to help him.

Miraculously, he wound his way from his home toward the beach a couple miles away. As he neared the beach and the businesses that stretched the length of the strip, the crowds thickened. She moved closer. He managed to shift through the throngs of people and around vendor booths without slamming into anyone-another mystery.

A dirty guy, little more than a teenager with bad body odor, b.u.mped into her, grabbed her arm and reached for her bag. She shoved her elbow into his gut. "Back off."

"Give me the bag, b.i.t.c.h."

"Dream on." She elbowed him again, not wanting to waste too much time on him. "I'm FBI."

"I don't care."

"I don't have time for this." Cabrera disappeared into a crowd. She fisted her hand and punched her mugger in the nose. Blood gushed down his face. She jumped back to avoid any splatter.

He released his grip on her and cupped his nose. "You broke my nose."

"You're lucky I left your b.a.l.l.s intact." She shouldered her way to where she'd last spotted Cabrera. He was gone.

"d.a.m.n it." She turned a circle and scanned the crowd for him. He was a big man, taller than the majority of people around. His shaved head should make him easy to spot. He had vanished.

"s.h.i.t." She wouldn't find out where he'd been heading. If he'd been following up on something he'd heard in the recording that morning she would only know if he bothered to call her.

Edging away, she continued scanning the faces. In front of a surprisingly busy vintage clothes shop, she pondered the decision to move forward or go back. She'd left her car at Cabrera's lab and needed to reclaim it. But maybe if she went forward she'd catch up with him. Decided, she turned in the direction Cabrera had been heading.

s.h.i.t. He'd been her chance at finding Lana and insight into El Dogo. Without whatever information he had withheld she would take longer to prove herself to her team.

"Hoping to catch up to me?"

His voice, seductive and low, brushed along her ear.

"s.h.i.t!" She spun on the ball of her foot. "What the h.e.l.l? Where'd you come from?"

"I know the area well."

"Obviously." The sun slipped toward the horizon over the beach. The shifting light that she hadn't noticed before struck his eyes. "Your eyes are eerie."

"That's some change of subject." He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the side just before a kid rushed by on a skateboard. "Why are you following me?"

"How'd you know he was there?"

"I heard him, just as I heard you following me."

He'd heard her? "How could you hear me in this crowd?"

He leaned close to her ear. "Your heartbeat. Why are you following me?"

She leaned away from his subtle, evergreen scent so she could see his eyes-escape the proximity of sheer maleness that tempted her in the middle of a busy sidewalk. "You held something back. Didn't tell me everything you heard."

He sighed and straightened. "I was going to call you if I confirmed my suspicions."

As if it was his case to solve. His right to decide what information she knew and didn't. And when she'd hear it. He was just like the men in her unit.

"You don't know me. You have no right to make decisions for me."

"This was-is-about more than you. Or even the case you're working on." This was his first lead in two years. To ease his mother's grief and his sister's worry, he would do what he needed to find the truth about El Dogo. He'd never thought it would require getting close to a woman who made him think of s.e.x on the beach they were currently standing near. Getting close enough that he could touch her, absorb the feel of her skin. Experience the rising excitement that swept through him when he caught the sound of her heartbeat-one of a kind even in a crowd of hundreds.

"You need to clue me in. What's going on, Cabrera?"

She stepped back and a cool breeze swept her warmth away. He missed it. He didn't want to miss it. He'd lay serious odds that she saw him as a charity case.

She'd followed him since leaving his office, immediately recognizing his blindness. Her heart had kicked with the surprise he'd no doubt given her with Maximum and his harness. She'd kept a careful distance until he'd reached home. When he'd started out without Maximum, certain she waited outside, she'd cut the distance in half.

He knew her type. Trusting people was only one of her issues. She saw him as handicapped. She considered him venturing out without his dog as foolish. She hadn't quite grasped the reality that he wasn't like other blind men.

When he'd entered the crowds, a place he felt as comfortable as any seeing man, she'd closed in on him more. Her heartbeat grew louder and stronger the closer she'd gotten. She wanted answers. He wanted answers.

"We can each have what we want."

"How's that?"

"You're cautious. I like that." He grinned. "To a point."

"How I am isn't for you to like or not." She shifted. The leather of her bag rubbed against the softness of her clothes. "Tell me what you know."

He stepped around her and headed toward the clubs.

"d.a.m.n it, Cabrera." She stayed at his side, as he'd known she would.

"Ian."

"Tell me what you know."

"Call me Ian." Testing her reaction, and his own, he reached down and linked his fingers with hers. A shot of electricity and instant warmth slid up his arm. Her hands were soft, free of calluses except the small one on the inside of her middle finger from writing. "And I'll tell you what I think."

"I need facts." She pulled her hand. He held firm. "Fine. Ian."

"Ah." He fl.u.s.tered her. Her heart skipped. "You really are a charmer."

"And you get off on dragging things out."

"You don't know me well enough to know what gets me off."

"Nor do I want to."

Sparring with her fed an intellectual hunger he hadn't known he had. She had a quick wit and even now that she knew he couldn't see, she didn't dwell endlessly on his lack of vision. Even his family forgot to think of him as a whole man at times. "Don't protest too soon, Kieralyn. Patience is a virtue."

"And that's a s.h.i.tty cliche."

"s.h.i.tty because you don't like how true it is." He stopped outside the door of Jazz on The Rocks. "Like now."

"How so? What did you hear that sent you here?"

He could have said he'd come just for the music, but it was her case and she might see something he missed. He'd just have to think fast if El Dogo was inside.

A couple approached. Ian pulled her intimately against him. With his lips against her ear, her scent once again slipping into him, he closed his eyes and sighed. "This club may be the one the recording was made in."

"And you know that..."

"Based on the sounds of the place. Different calibers of clubs have different levels of sound. Different decor impacts acoustics differently. The one on the recording was high cla.s.s and near the beach."

"And this is one?"

"One of two in Miami." He slid his lips along her neck, tasted seduction and craved a more thorough exploration of her. "You be my eyes. Tell me what and who you see. Where they are. What they're doing."

"Let me guess..." Her throat bobbed in a swallow. Her skin heated. Her heart pounded faster. "You're my ears."

"I could differentiate your heartbeat from the ma.s.ses of people on this street. If there's something worth hearing in the club, I'll pick up on it."

Her hands rested at his waist. "And if there isn't?"

"We try the next one."

"What's the catch, Cabrera?"

"Uh-uh." Suddenly determined to torment her every time she called him Cabrera, he nibbled her lobe. His blood rushed from his head, leaving him a little dizzy. "Call me Ian."

"What's the catch, Ian?"

"You have to pretend to be into me." He slid his hands over hers and tugged on her arms so they wrapped around him. "Really into me."

"I've been undercover before."

"I'm your partner in this, Kieralyn, and you aren't convincing me. Intimacy requires touching of the very personal kind."

"I'm touching you."

"This club is one for lovers. I'm not talking a first date kind of thing." He rolled his hips forward. Her heart jumped. "Touch me of your own will, Kieralyn. As if you're interested in me on an emotional level as well as a physical one. Allow yourself to let go."

"Are you saying this is a kink club?"

"No, but now I know how your mind works."

She shoved against his chest and stepped back. "You think you're funny?"

"A man has to find fun where he can." He cleared his throat. "Seriously, if you can pretend to be attracted to me we'll blend in better. People will be more at ease and more inclined to talk to us."

Her spine popped as she straightened. She placed her hands at his waist. "How intimate?"

Very. "Enough that we're a believable couple, rather than two government employees looking for answers. And no flinching when I touch you."

"I have not flinched." She stepped up until her body brushed against his. Her fingers dipped into the waist of his slacks and she jerked him close. "And I won't, so long as you mind your hands."

"Kieralyn." Already enticed by her, he instantly hardened at the touch of her hands on him. At the fantasy of her slender fingers snapping his slacks open and lowering his zipper before she reached in and cupped him.

Maybe he should have just hidden until she was gone. He brushed his cheek against hers and prayed he could cope with the distraction of her. He needed to find out about El Dogo without cluing her in on why he wanted the information. "I believe your hands are the ones in question at the moment."

She pulled her fingers free of his pants, but kept her hands at his waist. Her heart hammered-matched the rapid pace of his.

"Tell me something, Ian." She arched her neck. A wanton sigh escaped her lips. "You don't strike me as the type to do field work. What are you here to investigate?"

"Possibly nothing."

"If you're holding something back that pertains to my case-"

"I'll let you know when I know if I am." He nipped her neck.

"I don't work that way."

His breath caught as her husky whisper feathered over his ear. "You have no choice in the matter."

Chapter Three.

Kieralyn flailed around in her head for a solution. There had to be an approach that didn't include snuggling up to Cabrera. Ian. His body was hard, everywhere and in the most arousing ways. It wasn't exactly a hardship to stay close to him, to have him touch her, breathe along her ear or brush his lips over her neck. To listen to the evocative slide of his voice. But she had a job to do. If she didn't have proof of her theory come Monday morning, her unit would never let her live it down.

She couldn't afford Ian Cabrera right now. She couldn't afford to turn away from him. She needed to know what he knew, and the best way to know he wasn't keeping secrets was to stay by his side. To be his eyes as he'd put it. And if he could hear half as well as he claimed, he could pick up on information no one wanted them to have. Better yet, no one would suspect a blind man of being a threat.

She would just have to shut off her emotions. Involvement wasn't an option.

"What do you say, Kieralyn?" He pulled away and gazed at her as if he could see her. See into her mind. "You willing to play?"

"Don't confuse this for anything personal, Ian." She put some s.p.a.ce between them and surveyed him up and down. d.a.m.n, but he's fine. "I'm using you for my job. Nothing more."

"Use me for whatever you'd like." He slid one hand along the line of b.u.t.tons on her blouse. He held the other out to her.

He was smooth. So smooth that his insinuations weren't the least bit insulting, though they awakened hidden desires that could make non-involvement an issue.

She swallowed and took his offered hand. Following him to the club, she resolved to figure out the mystery of him before the night ended. Including the way he stayed in shape and how he managed to maneuver so easily without aids. If she was lucky, she'd discover the cause of the scars and his confusing att.i.tude shifts.

He hesitated a second at the door. She nudged him aside and pulled it open. The room was softly lit by decorative sconces at alternating heights on the walls and votives in colored gla.s.s bowls on the linen-covered tables. A single, padded bench ran the length of the farthest wall with small tables placed in front of it. The tables were crescent shaped and positioned so the chairs faced the stage positioned in the far corner. A giant, sepia-toned painting of a man's closed eyes dominated the wall above the bench seating.

"Welcome to Jazz on the Rocks. I'm Taylor." The handsome man smiled. He was mid-twenties, blond and average height with a tiny scar at the corner of his lip. His suit and gray striped tie were sophisticated, but not overly formal. "Table for two?"

"That would be great." She stepped in front of Ian and casually placed his hands on her hips so she could guide him through the tables. To anyone watching, she would look like a woman wanting her lover's touch.