"If I had been there, it never would have happened."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Were you supposed to be there? Did you sleep in and fail to show up on the job?"

He muttered an oath.

"I'll take that as a no. Which I'm sure is the truth since you are a lot of things ... ornery, arrogant, difficult-"

"Is there a point coming up any time soon?"

"Sorry, got a little carried away."

She smiled. He didn't.

Clearing her throat, she continued. "It's just that you're many things, but irresponsible isn't one of them.

If you weren't there for him, there was a reason. I'm certain of that."

He glowered at her.

"And let me add this, Mr. Thinks He Needs to Carry the World on His Shoulders, if you had been there,

who's to say you wouldn't both be dead?"

She felt the cold hard edge that swept through him, but no denial. He was furious, but she also saw that beneath the anger was a palpable vulnerability. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it possible of this man. On the surface he was a hard-ass cop. It all made sense now. But there was a kindness beneath it all. Which explained why he had taken the job as bodyguard for Chloe's

show. And why now he was trying to be a father to two teenagers. He was trying to be a good man even if he didn't know the first thing about two lost kids.

He started to turn away from her, and without thinking, she crossed the room. When she touched him,

he flinched.

"Ben-"

But the look in his eyes stopped her cold. A fathomless pit of darkness and anger swelled in his eyes.

"Julia," he warned ruthlessly.

A shiver of concern raced down her spine, but she wasn't about to let him intimidate her. She raised

her chin.

"You'd be wise to go to your own room," he added a second later, but with no less determination.

She suspected he was right. But she didn't see how she could walk out on him when he was clearly

hurting.

"That's the thing," she said. "I never seem to do anything wise when it comes to you."

"Fuck."

"Hey, hey," she said with a smile she hoped would be catching, "I wasn't thinking that, but a little

friendly conversation wouldn't be inappropriate."

She got more than she bargained for.

With a fierce growl, or maybe a cry, he pulled her close so quickly and easily that she didn't have a chance to think, much less react. The towel dropped away and he held on to her, his face buried in her hair. When she tried to talk, he kissed her.

All those times that he hadn't touched her mouth-as if it was an intimacy beyond what he was willing to give. Now it was like he consumed her. Finally giving in and not able to get enough.

She felt his groan, the sound rumbling through him as he took her hand and pressed it to his chest. If she had wanted to, she could have pulled free. But she couldn't seem to do it despite the fact that her mind was screaming alerts like a ship going down.

She couldn't seem to help herself when her hand drifted lower. She swallowed hard at the feel of his flat stomach, and her breath caught at the hungry look that stirred to life in his eyes. He wanted her. She sensed it.

It felt like a taste of sugar after being deprived of sweets. Or maybe it was like a taste of water after a long desert journey. She had lived a lifetime with men appreciating her. But she had done without. Wanted to do without. But like a dieter giving in, she relished the feel of the desire that she could see in his eyes.

Then he pressed his hand to hers, lowering it even farther.

She inhaled deeply when her fingers wrapped around him and he swelled hard in her hands. She stroked him, cupped him.

"Do you feel that? Do you feel how much I want you?" he asked, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

But before she could answer, he took her hand away and kissed her again. She leaned into him, feeling a mix of desire and confusion. She didn't understand why she couldn't resist him-what it was about this man who made her forget all her good intentions.

But right then she didn't care.

His hands trailed back to her shoulders, then down her spine, molding her to him.

She moaned, hot and pliant in his arms as she closed her eyes. Heat flared between them, the heat that was never far away, smoldering. Clinging to him, Julia kissed him back boldly.

The last of his restraint vanished. He brushed his thumb over her lips, touched her body, savoring her. He sucked her lower lip in his mouth, his teeth nipping, before he slid his hands into her hair. Gently he pulled her head back to expose the arch of her neck. And when she reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she felt as if he had been waiting for this forever.

The intensity grew, his erection pressing against her.

"Julia," he murmured with a ragged voice.

With infinite care, he kissed her again, the sound of a soft mewling coming from deep within her. Gently, he coaxed her lips apart until their tongues intertwined. She wanted to make love. Consequences be damned.

But that was the problem.

Just as suddenly as the intimacy had started, she stopped it, pushing away from him.

His eyes flashed dark, and he would have grabbed her back if she hadn't leaped away.

"We can't do this."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Not good enough."

He started for her again, but she held out her hand. "I promised myself that I wouldn't have any more ... casual affairs." What else could she call the relationships she had had with men? They might not have been casual, but they had never been committed. She made a point of picking and choosing, then moving on when they became too attached. She didn't want attached. But somehow with Ben, she couldn't think in those terms any longer. She couldn't think of picking and choosing, then moving on. But she also couldn't imagine them working together long term. "Can you possibly think this, you and me, would ever be anything more than casual?"

That stopped him.

"I didn't think so," she said, inwardly cringing at his unspoken acknowledgment of the truth, even though at an even deeper level she was grateful for it. She hated men who lied. Ben Prescott didn't lie.

"What's wrong with two consenting adults who clearly want each other finding a few hours of oblivion?" he asked, all that darkness that was never far away surfacing in his eyes.

If she hadn't liked his unspoken acknowledgment of the truth a few minutes before, she hated the reality that this man thought of her as nothing more than oblivion. But why shouldn't he? She was the one who had cupped his balls in the middle of World's Gym. She was the one who had exaggerated her experience with men-not that she was some lily-white virgin. She only had herself to blame that he would think mindless, unattached sex would be perfectly fine with her.

She moved away. "If you're seeking oblivion," she said tightly, "I suggest you go back to one of your seedy bars ... or do some more surfing on those Internet dating sites. I'm sure you could find plenty of women seeking oblivion there."

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

But she didn't care. She left the room, swallowing back ridiculously hurt feelings.

To: Ben Prescott From: j.taggart@eppd.gov Subject: Report Ben, your report feels incomplete. There's plenty of description of Morales, his compound, and the weaponry, but there's very little about the conversation you had. You were in there for a good thirty minutes. All he said was that he didn't know anything about Henry?

Also, I just found out that they found two blood types in the alleyway. Henry's and another. No ID on the second type, but we suspect someone else was wounded that night.

Tag To: j.taggart@eppd.gov From: Ben Prescott Subject: re: Report Tag, thanks for letting me know. I'll do some legwork on that today. Hospitals, morgues, etc. Can you run reports on missing persons?

As to Morales, he wasn't interested in talking. Sorry I didn't get more.

Ben To: Ben Prescott From: j.taggart@eppd.gov Subject: re: Report

Why do I find that hard to believe? Why do I think you learned something you are keeping to yourself?

Let me tell you, Benny, if I find out you are doing anything crazy, I'll have you taken off the case so fast your head will spin. I don't want two dead cops on my hands. Understood? Don't piss me off, Ben.

Taggart

To: j.taggart@eppd.gov From: Ben Prescott Subject: re: Report Me, piss anyone off?

Chapter Fifteen.

She could no longer deny she was obsessed with Ben Prescott. Nor could she deny he still believed she was an easy, wild woman. But how to explain at this point that having fun and living boldly in the past didn't mean she was easy, especially when she wanted-no, craved-to leap into bed with a man whom she didn't even like that much. That would be wild, easy, and idiotic.

Sure, she had a better understanding of him now. He was a cop. But still, his predatory arrogance appealed to her only on a sexual level.

And that was the thing-she was bigger than that, more mature, not ruled by lust or her body. Despite what Ben thought.

The new Julia Boudreaux didn't give in to every whim just because she felt like it. She was responsible now, and quite frankly, she was rather proud of the fact that she hadn't given in to the draw of simple, unattached sex with a man who was sure to be dynamite in bed. She was above that now.

But more than that, she had to prove to herself that she could follow something through-that she could succeed with something she had set out to do. Ben, however, was proving to be a distraction that was too tempting to ignore.

Which meant she had to come up with a way to effectively make Ben off limits.

But what?

Since she couldn't kick him out of her house, the only other solution was to find him a date. If he became interested in some woman, then he'd be out of her hair, taken ... off limits. And if there was one thing she knew about herself, it was that she never wasted time with taken men.

But he had told her flat-out that he wasn't interested in any of the women who called regularly. He needed to find someone new. And while he was all over those dating sites, he didn't seem to be finding anyone there.

Her brain started to grind until she came up with a solution. She would find him a date. She'd find him a wonderful, available woman who would consume his interest.

And she already knew who that person was.

Sonja.

It was perfect ... or at least it was as perfect as her setting up a man like Ben on a date was going to get. She fell asleep encouraged, and by the time she woke the next morning, she was convinced that it was the perfect plan. But when she went in search of him to tell him what she was going to do, he wasn't there. A frisson of surprise raced through her at the thought that he'd finally had enough and moved out. Was she happy? Was she disappointed? She didn't have a chance to study her conflicting emotions. Although the Range Rover was gone, she found that his clothes and belongings were still strewn about like party decorations. He'd be back. Which meant she still had to do something to get him out of her mind.

Julia decided to go over to Sonja's house right then and put her plan into action. Picking up the phone, she called the number Sonja had left. But the answering machine picked up.

"This is Sonja at Sonja's Salon. I'm working and can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."