the porch long enough for the world to stop spinning. Then he crossed the street and walked to Bernice’s house.
Kissing Violet was the best thing he’d done in a very long time. In fact, he wanted to make a habit of kissing her on a regular basis. But when he thought of the limited time he’d be staying in Missoula, his mood sobered. As much as he liked being with Violet, she wasn’t interested in him other than for the help he could provide.
Clay was a cop first. He needed to act like one.
EIGHT
V iolet had trouble keeping her mind on her work the next day. She kept thinking about Clay’s kiss. Stu had assigned her a number of fillers to write that required tracking down bits of information and kept her occupied throughout the morning. The editorial update meeting after lunch had gone longer than normal, and she was eager to get back to her computer and check her Web site and e-mail.
Hurrying back to her desk, Violet took a shortcut by the elevators. Rounding the partition, she found Clay sitting in her swivel chair, fiddling with the computer she’d turned off before she went to the update.
Her heart did a double take when he looked up and grinned. “I wondered when you’d get back to work.”
She ignored the way her lips tingled where he’d kissed her and tried to act nonchalant as she glanced at the monitor. “Sudoku?”
“Addicting, isn’t it?”
She reached around his broad shoulders and closed the page. “How’d you get my password?”
His face only inches from her own, she smelled his aftershave, a woodsy scent that made her knees weak.Needing support, she braced against the edge of her desk, noting the tiny scar on his chin and the dimple in his right cheek when he grinned, which was what he was doing right now.
Grinning and moving closer. Déjà vu of last night. His aftershave alone was enough to crash her mainframe. And she wasn’t talking about her computer.
“You haven’t answered me.” She pulled back, giving herself space and air. She couldn’t think straight when he was close to her. “How’d you log on?”
“Your computer was up and running, Violet.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He winked. “Cross my heart.”
Another surge to her power source.
Maybe she hadn’t closed out of everything. She tried to remember. Why was she getting so confused recently? Had to be that aftershave and the memory of his kiss.
Clay glanced at his watch. “Micah McGraw’s in town. He agreed to see us.”
The password issue no longer seemed important. Violet turned off her computer, grabbed her coat and purse and raced after Clay, who held the elevator door open.
“We’re meeting him at Police Headquarters,” Clay said. “Micah should be there by the time we arrive.”
Police? As in Chief Howard? Not her favorite person, but she wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to talk to Marshal McGraw. As long as she stayed far enough from Clay so her mind could function, she’d be all right. Get too close to him, and all her good intentions would be for naught.
Clay escorted Violet into the conference room where Micah McGraw stood waiting. Tall, lean and wiry, he was a casual reflection of his brother dressed in a blue shirt and jeans.
The Marshal’s brown eyes were warm as he stepped around the long rectangular table and greeted them with a firm handshake. Clay eyed the Stetson on a nearby table and a heavy parka thrown over the back of a chair.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said returning Micah’s handshake. The Marshal indicated a chair for Violet on his left. Clay sat across the table from her. She appeared calm and in control, exactly as Clay had expected her to act.
“Let’s start at the beginning. Jackson said you have information about the two women murdered in Montana?” Micah seemed as straightforward as his brother. Younger, but equally as focused.
Violet repeated what she’d told Clay.
“So you deduced the women were in Witness Protection when you saw a picture of
Kissing Violet was the best thing he’d done in a very long time. In fact, he wanted to make a habit of kissing her on a regular basis. But when he thought of the limited time he’d be staying in Missoula, his mood sobered. As much as he liked being with Violet, she wasn’t interested in him other than for the help he could provide.
Clay was a cop first. He needed to act like one.
EIGHT
V iolet had trouble keeping her mind on her work the next day. She kept thinking about Clay’s kiss. Stu had assigned her a number of fillers to write that required tracking down bits of information and kept her occupied throughout the morning. The editorial update meeting after lunch had gone longer than normal, and she was eager to get back to her computer and check her Web site and e-mail.
Hurrying back to her desk, Violet took a shortcut by the elevators. Rounding the partition, she found Clay sitting in her swivel chair, fiddling with the computer she’d turned off before she went to the update.
Her heart did a double take when he looked up and grinned. “I wondered when you’d get back to work.”
She ignored the way her lips tingled where he’d kissed her and tried to act nonchalant as she glanced at the monitor. “Sudoku?”
“Addicting, isn’t it?”
She reached around his broad shoulders and closed the page. “How’d you get my password?”
His face only inches from her own, she smelled his aftershave, a woodsy scent that made her knees weak.Needing support, she braced against the edge of her desk, noting the tiny scar on his chin and the dimple in his right cheek when he grinned, which was what he was doing right now.
Grinning and moving closer. Déjà vu of last night. His aftershave alone was enough to crash her mainframe. And she wasn’t talking about her computer.
“You haven’t answered me.” She pulled back, giving herself space and air. She couldn’t think straight when he was close to her. “How’d you log on?”
“Your computer was up and running, Violet.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He winked. “Cross my heart.”
Another surge to her power source.
Maybe she hadn’t closed out of everything. She tried to remember. Why was she getting so confused recently? Had to be that aftershave and the memory of his kiss.
Clay glanced at his watch. “Micah McGraw’s in town. He agreed to see us.”
The password issue no longer seemed important. Violet turned off her computer, grabbed her coat and purse and raced after Clay, who held the elevator door open.
“We’re meeting him at Police Headquarters,” Clay said. “Micah should be there by the time we arrive.”
Police? As in Chief Howard? Not her favorite person, but she wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to talk to Marshal McGraw. As long as she stayed far enough from Clay so her mind could function, she’d be all right. Get too close to him, and all her good intentions would be for naught.
Clay escorted Violet into the conference room where Micah McGraw stood waiting. Tall, lean and wiry, he was a casual reflection of his brother dressed in a blue shirt and jeans.
The Marshal’s brown eyes were warm as he stepped around the long rectangular table and greeted them with a firm handshake. Clay eyed the Stetson on a nearby table and a heavy parka thrown over the back of a chair.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said returning Micah’s handshake. The Marshal indicated a chair for Violet on his left. Clay sat across the table from her. She appeared calm and in control, exactly as Clay had expected her to act.
“Let’s start at the beginning. Jackson said you have information about the two women murdered in Montana?” Micah seemed as straightforward as his brother. Younger, but equally as focused.
Violet repeated what she’d told Clay.
“So you deduced the women were in Witness Protection when you saw a picture of
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