Hot Pursuit by Lorie O'Clare Page B

right back into the middle of her forehead. She didn’t seem to notice. “No, but I’d love to know how many laws the asshole is breaking in doing this to me.”
    It was Wolf’s turn to shake his head. “I’m not sure making a pretty lady dance on boxes in an alley is against the law,” he said dryly. “Unless there is a city ordinance against it.”
    “I’m not dancing on them; I’m trying to crush them,” she snapped. “But books are sent in really sturdy boxes and they aren’t crushing easily.”
    Wolf walked up to her. “Now crushing I can do. It was that dance I was a bit leery of.”
    “By all means.” She made a flourish with her hand and moved to the side, giving him room. “I just can’t believe I’m now required to break down all boxes from my store before putting them in the city Dumpster, or risk a fine. And he wants an inspection, too.”
    “Trashmen can’t be overworked, you know.”
    She made a humphing sound as if she might disagree. Wolf would have to agree with her when she said the boxes were sturdy. It took a bit of muscle to collapse all of them. When they were in a flat stack at his feet, Wolf turned to find the woman leaning next to a door watching him.
    She pointed to the Dumpster on the other side of the alley.
    “You ask a lot of a stranger.” Wolf lifted the stack of collapsed boxes and took them to the trash.
    “A stranger in my town.” Her tone was soft, alluring.
    She was possibly five feet and two or three inches. Wolf would wager few people thought of her as short. This woman saw herself as larger than life. Her arms were crossed just under nice-looking breasts. She stood straight and tall, as tall as her small physique would allow, and stared at him head-on. He saw no fear, no hostility toward him, not even mild curiosity. What he did see as she continued watching was confidence, a comfortability in her world.
    She was angry. She’d already admitted it. But not at him and she wasn’t the type of woman to lash out at someone because she was angry with someone else. He saw that in her nature as well. This woman was too focused for any misdirected energy.
    Wolf managed not to stare at the cleavage swelling from the top of her T-shirt. Instead he focused on a smear of dirt next to her cute, narrow nose. That was another character trait he guessed she possessed. There was no way to know for certain without putting it to the test, and he saw no reason to do that. But this woman wouldn’t tolerate any man treating her as a sexual object. With this lady, it would be mind and body or nothing at all.
    Wolf didn’t consider himself an expert on noses. He was rather indifferent to the type of noses women had. Decent boobs, nice ass, and, if he was lucky enough to find out, a tight pussy, and the rest of her might impress upon him if he hung around long enough to find out. Or at least that was how he had been prior to making the mistake of being snared into a relationship. The lady staring at him definitely would go out of her way to show a lack of interest in a man like Wolf.
    If she knew him. Which she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be difficult at all to initiate a conversation with this disgruntled bookstore owner, which he’d concluded because an employee wouldn’t be concerned about receiving a fine. Wolf would sift through any information gained from her and, if he was lucky, walk away with something that might indicate whether the assassin was in Zounds or not.
    “M’lady’s task is complete,” he said after tossing the collapsed boxes in the Dumpster. “Oh wait, did the collapsed boxes need to be placed inside the Dumpster in any particular way?”
    Her smile was genuine and made her eyes light up once again. Wolf wasn’t much into the poetic beauty of a woman. She was hot, or she wasn’t. This lady, however, held herself in such a way she would be able to make a man beg to change his ways simply to be blessed with her sincere and glowing smile. Wolf instantly