Page 6 of Due Process

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“Thanks.”

“I have to make a phone call. Wait out by the entrance.”

“Sure.” He walked away and Sienna couldn’t help but notice how nicely the jeans he wore fit his backside.

As Sienna called Lana Dempsey’s cell phone, she watched the appraising eyes as A.J. Camacho walked down the hall, past the bullpen and its rows of desks. He stopped at the front desk to converse amicably with the sergeant on duty as he waited for Sienna. Lana answered on the second ring, but Sienna couldn’t take her eyes away from A.J. She quickly explained her lateness and told Lana she’d be there shortly.

SEALs were in hideously good shape, Sienna thought as she grabbed her purse from her desk. She’d bet a quarter would bounce off his butt. Sienna’s eyes again strayed to that part of his anatomy, finely displayed as he leaned into the counter.

Sienna consciously unclenched her jaw, feeling a slight headache at her temples.

It wouldn’t be any hardship rolling around on the mattress with him, Sienna thought. As she came up to him, she moved her eyes slowly up his body to the devastating dark intensity of his profile, her stomach flipping over as he smiled at something the desk sergeant said. With that disarming smile still on his face, he looked at her and Sienna sucked in her breath. Her whole body ignited and began to burn—again.

Some people have all the damn luck and she sure as hell wasn’t one of them.

A dangerous man, A.J. Camacho. A deadly combination of looks, brains, and courage. A risk if she ever saw one and Sienna wasn’t into risk-taking.

Yet, a deep, dark part of her could see herself engaging in a wild, passionate fling with him.

But that was all.

This type of manwasa lethal threat to her sanity and her perfectly structured life.

CHAPTER2

A.J. had to admit that the redhead was fine, with her fiery dark green eyes framed by pretty, sherry eyelashes, a soft, no-nonsense mouth, and a don’t-mess-with-me attitude. He really liked her attitude. His father would have called her a tough broad.

A.J. would call her off-limits, except she looked like the type of woman who wouldn’t care if he did. A woman who was this tough about her professional life would be as tough about her personal life, too. She wouldn’t be looking for a temporary maverick. This kind of woman would be looking for permanence. It was something he sensed. Sienna Parker liked to call the shots and resented being out of the loop or out of control. He didn’t have a problem with strong women.

He liked the way she moved—graceful, intense energy sizzling around her. Her petite, sexy body was curved in all the right places, and that smooth cameo face framed by tousled strands of dark wavy hair made him want to do something really stupid.

Even with her tough attitude, the lady still looked like a lady. The tailored slacks and jacket in a soft dove gray with tiny purple pinstripes were a far cry from masculine. Nor did she try to hide that she was a woman, for she’d complemented the suit with a soft lilac blouse and a tiny silver heart around her creamy throat. Her hair flowed down her back and, she looked like she belonged on the pages ofVogue. Pretty loops with etched flowers adorned her ears.

The result was a neatness that shouted she was a professional, but still had the one-two punch of blazing sex.

Her personality was evident even now. She drove the speed limit and didn’t run yellow lights. A cop to the core.

“What does A.J. stand for?” She stayed focused on the road with a single-minded intensity that he liked. Her eyes were always moving, checking out everyone and everything. Just as he said, she was a bundle of energy.

“Alejandro Jesus. My mother had a brother that died fighting for freedom and so she thought that I would be the perfect one to be his namesake.” The light up ahead of them turned yellow and Sienna shifted slightly to apply the brake.

“Why did she think that?” She looked at him, her eyes very dark in the dim interior of the car. The bottom half of her face was illuminated by the light from a streetlamp. Her mouth was full, red, and looked enticing.

“I was the first child in my family to be born in America. The first one to be born free.” He got a catch in his chest every time he said it out loud. The light turned green, and she continued on her way.

“Ah.” The look she gave him was knowing and all assessing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Explains why you’re in the Navy. You want to protect that freedom.”

For some strange reason, her instant understanding of who he was made him hunger for more contact with her, reminding him of his loneliness of late. Too many missions and not enough time spent with people, especially women. “Pegged me in one, Sergeant. So, what’s your story?”

“What do you mean?”

Her tone was evasive, and his honed senses wondered what she might want to conceal. “Why a cop?”

“I like the structure and discipline.”


Tags: Zoe Dawson Suspense