Trouble With the Law by Becky McGraw

inside.  Ronnie was sitting in the middle of the bed with her arms crossed under her breasts.  Her bare breasts.  As he drew closer her angry eyes burned holes through him.
    When he leaned in to put the plate on her lap, her gorgeous breasts were right there in his face.  The urge to lean forward and suck one of the ripe cherries into his mouth was strong, but Trace stood back up.  "Think you could cover up, Red?" he asked gruffly.
    "What fun would that be?" she asked with a lifted brow a s she picked up the sandwich to take a huge bite.  As she chewed, she gave him a close-mouthed smile.  She reached for the tea and he put it in her hand. 
    Yep, the Shark Lady was definitely feeling better , if she was trying to torture him.  And that is exactly what she was doing.
    "Well , Seth and Sarah could come back and I'm sure they don't want to see your lady bits," he said grumpily.  It was a lie.  Sarah was staying the night at her mother's house, and Seth was working.  But it sure worked better than telling her seeing you without clothes makes me so hot I want to burn every stitch you have just to keep you naked .  "I'll go see if I can find you some clothes in Sarah's closet," Trace said then turned to walk out of the room.
    Halfway across the living room the doorbell rang, and Trace stopped in his tracks.  He slid the gun from his waistband and disengaged the safety, then tiptoed to the window beside the door to peer out the curtain.  A dark-haired, slick looking dude in an expensive suit stood on the doorstep.  He looked like a damned attorney. 
    Trace quickly figured out that's exactly what he was when Ronnie came out of the bedroom with the sheet wrapped under her arms to announce, "That's Conner," as she walked to the door.  He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door.  She jerked her arm away and reached for the doorknob.  "He's going to help us," Ronnie said shortly and flicked the lock open.
    "No!" Trace shouted, reaching around her to lock it.
    "Back off," Ronnie grated , as she quickly unlocked the door and opened it.
    "Fuck!" Trace growled as he stomped across the living room to sit on the sofa. 
    He was going to leave her right here and head out on his own.  Ronnie Winters was too much of a liability to take with him.  She was headstrong and she just didn't listen, which meant one of them would get killed, or he would get caught.  The woman was going to do exactly what she wanted to do, no matter what he said. 
    Trace had told her not to call anyone, and when he turned his back that is exactly what she'd done.  He folded his arms over his chest to sit there and watch her greet Slick Dude warmly.  A little too warmly.  The man hugged her tightly, then kissed her right on the mouth.  Anger shot through him, when she put her arms around his neck and kissed him again.  Most men he knew, including himself, equated kissing Ronnie Winters to kissing a cobra.  Not slick dude, he was enjoying it.  That was obvious from his hands on her ass.
    "Damn, I've missed you," he said with a laugh and set her away from him.  "What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?"
    His eyes darted to Trace for a second and they narrowed.  He definitely had that attorney look, because Trace felt like the man was dissecting him and drawing his own conclusions without an answer from Ronnie.  There was a story there between Veronica and that man, but Trace didn't want to know what it was.  When she turned around to face him, he saw the sheet was barely covering her nipples now, her hardened nipples, and he'd had enough.  They could have their little reunion without him.
    "Well, since you're friend is here, I think I'll be heading out," Trace said standing.  He looked at Slick Dude, and said with a smirk, "Word to the wise, Pretty Boy, you might want to get a gun.  There are some very nasty guys after her, so you're gonna need one."
    Trace walked to the hall closet to get the duffle bag he'd packed.