Their Twisted Love (The Twisted Mosaic - Book 2) by Amelia James Page B

back." I opened the
louvered doors and grabbed the hanger.
    "Need some help?" He stepped behind me as I
slipped the red satin garment over my head.
    I tugged the tight halter-top into place while he zipped me
up, sliding his fingers over my skin. A deep V dove down both front and back.
"Thank you."
    "My pleasure." He stroked my shoulder, brushing my
hair back as he turned us toward the mirror. "You are beautiful. We look
perfect together."
    If only we could be perfect together. I turned in his
arms and stepped back as he moved to kiss me.
    His brow wrinkled. "What?"
    "No kissing until after—"
    "Seriously? Are you trying to re-virginize or
something? Because I'm telling you, that's not gonna happen."
    I slapped his shoulder. "Just play nice. It'll be
fun." I slipped on a bracelet and earrings, but tossed the matching
necklace aside. I can't stand having anything wrapped around my neck...
except Alex's hands.
    "If you say so." He grunted and offered his arm.
He escorted me to the lobby, behaving like a perfect gentleman.
    This will be fun, right?
    A valet pulled up in a sporty little Audi and handed the
keys to Alex.
    "New car?" I ran my fingers over the fine finish
as he opened my door.
    He laughed. "I rented it. Valets don't like my beat-up
old truck."
    "But it's a classic. You'd think they'd love to get
behind the wheel."
    "They think I can't afford a good tip."
    "Ah." My skirt slid up my thighs as I climbed in. Oops,
butt first. I backed into the leather seat and crossed my ankles as I
pulled my legs in.
    Alex cleared his throat. "Nice tease." He jogged
around to the other side. When we arrived at a high-class steakhouse downtown,
a valet ran to meet us, smiling as Alex tossed him the keys.
    The lovely hostess walked us to our table. Candlelight
flickered off sparkling crystal and shining china. A string quartet played in
the corner, and both patrons and servers spoke in hushed tones.
    The hostess handed me a menu and gave the wine list to Alex.
He ordered a bottle of my favorite chardonnay while I scanned the entrees. Something
with mushrooms....
    "Making any progress finding that payment?"
    "We're not talking about work tonight."
    He smiled, knowing I was avoiding the question.
"Okay."
    We waited for our server. Alex played with the silverware
while I fought off the urge to bite my polished fingernails. Oh God, I
haven't done that since junior high.
    I pretended to debate over my dinner choices. Do we have
anything to talk about?
    "How did you get into forensic accounting?"
    His out-of-the-blue question startled me, and the menu
slipped from my hand. I laid it beside my plate and looked at him. He leaned
back in his chair and loosened his tie just enough to let him breathe easier.
My perfect gentleman date disappeared, and the predatory attorney took his
place. He'd asked an open-ended question, something that would allow him to ask
follow-up questions. And most likely lead me into a trap. But I'd played this
game with him before.
    I thanked the wine server and waited for him to disappear
before submitting to Alex's interrogation. "I've always been good with
numbers and computers."
    "I know that. Give me something interesting."
    "After I turned in Holland Spencer, the DA's office
asked me to help them track down all his accounts. I found a mountain of
evidence against him before they went to trial. He pled guilty."
    "Nice job. That old bastard deserves to rot. Did you go
to work for the DA?"
    "No." I took a long sip of my chardonnay.
    He realized his mistake and rephrased the question.
"How did that lead you to forensic work?"
    "I thought I'd solved that case so easily because I
knew Holland, but the DA asked for my help on another case, and I discovered my
gift for uncovering virtual evidence."
    "Is Wes Abernathy still the DA?"
    I nodded. Wes rivaled Alex in good looks and charm. But he
had ethics Alex lacked, or maybe Wes cared to cover his tracks.
    "Did you sleep with him?"
    "Wes? What does that have to do with my