Lover Undercover (McCade Brothers 1)

Wincing at the indignity of being caught mid-slink, she slipped her other arm into the shirt and concentrated on the buttons. Her hands weren’t quite steady. He had that effect on her.

“I have an early appointment. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’ve been awake for a while. After last night, I wouldn’t want you to leave without saying a proper good-bye. It wouldn’t seem right.”

She stood and blew her hair out of her eyes, then looked at him. Big mistake. Propped up on his pillow, with his disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, and raspy jaw, he was hard to walk away from. Because every hormone she possessed clamored to crawl back in bed with him, she responded more brusquely than she intended. “Okay, fine. Good-bye, Trevor.”

“Good-bye…Kylie.”

Oh, shit. She stared at her feet. “You knew.”

“Not until last night.”

“What gave me away?”

She heard the rustle of sheets and the creak of bedsprings. Then his hand was under her chin, forcing her to face him. “Stacy Roberts isn’t a virgin. I practically have sworn affidavits attesting to that fact. You were, until a few hours ago.”

She closed her eyes against his probing stare. Stupid of her, thinking he hadn’t noticed. He noticed everything.

“Look at me, Kylie.”

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and saw the concern in his. Guilt surged through her. She’d lied to him, arguably impeded his investigation. She didn’t deserve his concern. His next words only compounded her guilt.

“Are you okay? Physically, I mean?”

Shame heated her cheeks. “Yes. I’m fine. Please, don’t give it another thought.”

He looked at her for a long second, those dark, assessing eyes roaming her face. Apparently what he saw convinced him she was telling the truth, for once, because finally he nodded. “We’re both going to give it a lot of thought and some discussion, but it will have to wait until later. Right now, we’ve got other matters to deal with.”

Oh, Lord, here it comes. He’s going to arrest you. Her stomach roiled. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine. “How bad—how bad is it?”

“It’s not good,” he clipped out, all tough, authoritative cop again. “This morning I’ve got to move quickly and by the book. We’re going to get dressed, then I’m going to read you your rights and escort you straight into an interview.”

“I need to call—”

“No calls, unless it’s an attorney. Meantime, Ian’s going to pick up Stacy, and she’ll get the same drill. Depending on how things shake out, we’ll see where we go from there.”

An attorney? Oh, God, this was bad. Fear snaked through her, leaving an icy trail of panic.

“My work,” she managed to whisper around the lump in her throat. “I’m a yoga instructor. I have a class starting at six.”

He retrieved his cell phone from the nightstand and handed it to her. “Call a substitute. Use my phone, so I can verify the number later.”

Trembling hands made dialing an ordeal. Her voice shook so badly her substitute sounded as worried as she felt by the end of the call.

Trevor took the phone from her freezing fingers, and then wrapped his hand over them. She shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Kylie, there’s something else I need you to do for me.”

Scared and miserable, she choked out, “I’ll try.”

“Trust me. I have a job to do, but everything I said before still stands. I want to help you. Trust me to do both.”

She nodded, but they both knew she really didn’t have a choice.

…

In the end, he had to help her dress. She was just too shaken up to manage on her own. Once he’d gotten her strapped into the passenger seat and started steering his Yukon down the canyon, her shakes abated some, though her pallor remained a troubling gray. Halfway to the station, Ian called to advise him that Stacy was in custody. Even before he hung up, she peppered him with questions.