“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“I thought you were a forensic specialist. Why would you have any interest in burglaries?”
“I do live in the building. One woman was murdered there, and three apartments have been burglarized.”
“But you’re not here because of that. You’re here for that Hamilton fellow. The one arrested for the murder of my tenant.”
“I think Danny’s innocent.”
Mr. Mitchell’s face got red. “Balderdash. He’s as guilty as the police believe he is. I’ll see him behind bars for putting a stain on my reputation as an apartment complex owner. I should have never listened to Ken when he wanted to hire the man. This interview is over.”
Kate walked out of Mitchell’s office and ran right into Ken.
“Ms. Quinn. What brings you to my father’s office?”
She looked down at Ken’s hands, but they were in his pockets.
She brushed past him and exited the building. She was convinced that Ken was in Mrs. LePlante’s apartment. The why she didn’t know for sure, but she was going to prove that he was there.
She hailed a cab. There was one more stop she had to make before she went home.
* * *
When Kate got to the hallway of her building, Jericho was there, pacing. When he stepped out of the shadow into the silvery light, he looked beat. She had no idea what he had been doing all day, but although she knew he’d had a rough night and a busy day, he still looked…driven. It didn’t matter to her how he looked. It had been inevitable from the beginning. It was time to stop playing games. He was so handsome in his black silk T-shirt that molded against the contours of his chest and the tight, faded jeans took his danger quotient up a notch.The devil in blue jeans.His hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it for hours. It was such a sharp contrast to the perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed, fully-in-control prosecutor that she stopped dead in the hall to take it all in.
She took in the view of all that prowling male energy. The man must exude it out of his pores. His charisma was a tangible thing. His eyes cleared when he saw her.
Inside she was in turmoil, but she acted carefully nonchalant when she walked toward him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, and she immediately bristled at his growling tone. “I’m coming home from work and having to deal with a jerk.”
“Huh?”
“That would be you. The jerk.”
“I’m sorry. I got a call from the DA, and he was mad as hell about one of his employees harassing one of his biggest campaign contributors. What were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that Ken Mitchell killed Mrs. LePlante and framed Danny for it.” She shoved her key into the lock and opened the door.
He pushed his way inside and slammed the door behind him. She almost didn’t know this out-of-control, frantic man.
“It’s not your job to investigate leads. That’s for the police.”
“I don’t give a damn, Jericho. I’m not going to let Danny go to jail! If that ruins your precious campaign contributor’s day, that’s too damn bad!”
“I don’t give a damn about him. You can harass his whole damn family. I…need you. I’m desperate for you.” He clasped her around the waist and sank to his knees, still clutching her waist.
She went limp with shock. Jericho was begging her. Finally, he was begging her. She could only feel sorry she’d made him wait when all she’d wanted to do from the moment she’d laid eyes on him was to slide into his arms, into a maelstrom of sensations and emotions.
She stared down into his hot, dark eyes; a hot, trembling sensation was spreading throughout her body. Her fingers threaded through his soft brown hair. His chin was pressed against her navel, and he gripped her hips, the intense warmth of his big hands sinking through the fabric.
Her throat was vibrating—her whole body was vibrating—as if she were about to shake apart.
“Please,” she whispered. She reached down and grabbed his shoulders. “Jericho, I can’t bear it.”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, shaking his head in helpless frustration. “Please, believe me, I really don’t want to wreck this.”