She waffled another few seconds, then forced herself to jump. “Okay. If you want to rummage in the junk pile I’ve collected on Hank, be my guest.”
His smile was confident and pleased. “That a girl.” He kissed her, set her on her feet, and took her hand on the way to the bedroom. “Let’s go burn off that midnight snack.”
She couldn’t think of a better way to keep reality at bay for at least a few more hours.
Roman sat in his rental with the engine running, the heat on high, his cell pressed to his ear.
“We’re making solid progress,” he told Gianna, summing up the brief he’d just given her in detail while he’d been watching Lyle Bishop’s SUV outside Sugar Daddy’s, waiting for the man to finish up with his favorite prostitute, Brandy. “Ian’s a great addition to the team.”
“Well, he’s got a great team leader to emulate.”
A smile teased his lips. “Thanks.”
If Roman hadn’t been sure Lyle would exit the brothel any moment, he would have closed his e
yes and soaked in the sound of her voice in his ear. Somehow, the intimacy of speaking to her privately, sitting in the dark, felt wildly intimate. “You sound tired.”
She sighed, and the sound shot tingles down his neck.
“Long days,” she murmured. “Stress.”
He hummed in understanding and fought to clear his mind of the intense desire he shouldn’t be harboring for her. Yet kept searching for something else to talk about just to keep her on the phone. “You should have seen that basement, G.”
“I wish I’d been there when you found it,” she said, her voice a little dreamy. “God, your face. Your expression would have been priceless.”
He smiled, enjoying connecting with her like this. They were both intensely dedicated to their jobs. Lived for the successes; suffered through failures. She got him—really got him—like no one else. “It was the coolest setup I’ve ever seen.”
“I hope to be there when you seize it.”
He liked that idea way too much. “It would be worth the trip to see it in person.”
“All my trips to see you are worth it.”
Her voice was soft, and the response surprised him. He was puzzling out her comment and whether or not he wanted to pick up the thread of interest she’d let slip through the well-woven professional fabric of their relationship when a snowplow barreled past.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Outside the brothel, waiting for Lyle to free up his favorite girl.”
“Going to get a little skin with your information?” The slightest edge entered her voice.
“I guess I should take it where I can get it, right?”
She huffed a laugh. “As if you have any trouble getting it.”
Another thread slipped through the tapestry. Before Roman could even toy with the idea of opening up dialogue about her interest in his sex life, Lyle appeared on the porch of the brothel. He said a few words to the security guards there and pulled on gloves, then dragged on a knit cap before starting down the steps with the fluid movements of a man who’d recently been sexually satisfied.
“I can’t figure out if I’m more surprised they’re bold enough to run a brothel with trafficked women,” she said, “or that everyone in town can know about it and no law enforcement agency has shut it down.”
“Intimidation, power, and kickbacks,” he told her. “A trifecta for sure.”
“You’ve done great work on this case, Roman. You’re really close to taking down one hell of a dangerous terrorist ring.”
The sincerity in her voice warmed him. “Thanks, but Heller deserves most of the credit. He’s got a way of uncovering the nuances of a situation that cracks otherwise unbreachable barriers.”
“And you have a way of understanding and placing your team where they work best.”
He smiled. “I think my head’s going to be too big to get out of the car.”