“Suggestions?”
“Depends. Hot or sweet?”
“Both. I’m starved.”
“One chipotle bacon BBQ double-cheeseburger and fries coming up. Everything on it?”
“Yeah. And two of whatever kind of shake Inspector Michaels wants. All to go.”
Jared paid the bill, waving off the five-spot Darcy pulled out of her pocket.
Closing the register, Ginny stepped away to make the shakes, leaving Darcy standing there with a grim expression. He gestured her over to a red vinyl booth by the window.
“So,” he began when she sat. “How often has Lion’s Bay had cause for the Feds to come in?”
One of her brows arched and she sized him up. The caveman in him beat his chest at the challenge. Damn it, he hadn’t been this interested in a woman in a long, long time.
It was a good thing she had some fire to her. When he got her beneath him, he wasn’t going to be gentle…
Fuck that. What the hell was he thinking? He was not going there.
“Just once,” she answered.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why?”
She hesitated just a second, but he caught it. “A local woman was murdered.”
“What made that interesting?”
Her lips pursed and her eyes took on a hardness that startled him.
“Don’t glare at me, Darcy. It’s a valid question. The Feds have bigger fish to fry than a small-town murder. What caught their interest about this one?”
She exhaled in a rush. “The MO was a match to a serial killer they were looking for.”
From the moment Darcy had spotted Jared Cameron in the police station, she’d known he was going to tear through her orderly life like a whirlwind.
His looks had knocked her back first. It had taken everything she had to keep her mouth from falling open when he’d walked up to her epitomizing the description of tall, dark, and dangerous. Then, he’d swept her right out the door, his touch sending tingles racing up her arm and through her body. Now she was sitting across from him, faced head-on with how seriously freakin’ delicious he was. Her mother would call him a “cool drink of water,” but Darcy wouldn’t. Every time their eyes met, her mouth went dry. Despite his purely professional discourse, the way he looked at her with those electric blue eyes was with raw animal hunger.
And damned if she didn’t want him right back. It was a primal response she couldn’t suppress. Socially, he was gruff and abrupt, so she was inclined to imagine him screwing her senseless without talking. Sweaty, grasping, grinding f**king. That’s what he radiated with his agitated energy and fierce gaze, and she was sold. It had taken his force-of-nature energy to make her realize she’d been dead for a while. A no-holds-barred one-night stand was just what she needed to knock the dust off.
“Which serial killer?” he asked in that clipped rough voice that brought to mind golden whisky in a crystal tumbler. He brushed back a lock of inky black hair with a careless hand, and she couldn’t help but notice the veins coursing along his powerful forearms and biceps. He was perfectly built to her tastes—lean, ripped, and not the slightest bit bulky.
“Some guy from the Midwest who carved Mayan symbols in his victims’ torsos.”
“The Prophet.” Jared leaned back in the booth, the casual pose doing little to soften him. “Counting down to doomsday. Sick fuck.”
Her brows rose. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“In my professional opinion, he was a whack job. And so is this guy torching your town.”
She almost smiled. Jared Cameron was a blunt object, no doubt about it, but it made her feel better knowing he was here. She couldn’t fathom anyone getting anything over on him.
“Listen.” His fingertips drummed on the table. “You can’t carry around guilt and blame for these fires.”
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit. The waitress tells you she’s taking steps to protect her property and you start apologizing like it’s your fault.”
Darcy’s hackles rose. “This is a small town, Deputy. People around here aren’t exactly rolling in the dough. She spent—”
“The name’s Jared. Use it.”
“You’re just full of charm, aren’t you?”
“You don’t want charm, and we’re talking shop.”
“How the hell would you know what I want?”
“Because I want the same thing.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, his blue eyes burning like flame. “I want it so badly my dick’s been half hard since the moment I saw you.”
Arousal swept through her like a sudden fever, flushing her skin. No man had ever talked to her so crudely, so there’d never been a chance for her to learn it turned her on. Now she knew, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be vocal in bed. Just thinking about him growling raunchy and obscene statements while screwing her made her ache with desire. She struggled not to squirm, but she couldn’t resist goading him for more. “And what is it we both want, Deputy?”
He didn’t move a muscle for a moment. Then his lips curled on one side in a wickedly carnal smile. His eyes glittered with fierce, hard lust. “You want a sheet-clawing, back-arching, mind-blowing fuck, and I want to pound my c*ck into you until I’ve come my last drop.”
Darcy sagged into the seat back, her hand lifting to her throat. “Whew.”
Her p**sy throbbed greedily, the tender folds slickening with her growing hunger. She’d known the man less than twenty minutes, but she was suddenly quite committed to knowing him even better. Well, his body, at least…“You’re on. My workday ends at six.”
The deputy’s nostrils flared. Anticipation sharpened the blades of his cheekbones and made the precisely drawn lines of his beautiful mouth harsh. She could say, in all honesty, that he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
“I’m gonna regret this,” he muttered, scowling at her.
Oddly, his reluctance about wanting her only spurred her desire to have him. It betrayed how intense his attraction to her was, so much so that he couldn’t fight it even though he wanted to. And she responded as any red-blooded woman would to the ferocious sexual need of a deliciously handsome, potently masculine creature: she provoked him.
Leaning forward, she whispered, “No, you won’t. You’ll be seeing stars when I’m done with you.”
“Christ.” Grimacing with discomfort, he arched his h*ps up from the seat and adjusted the fit of his jeans.
“Back to the shoptalk,” she said, inwardly smiling with female triumph and heated expectation. “Ginny spent money she likely doesn’t have on safety precautions that won’t do her a damn bit of good. You know how Merkerson works. If he goes after this diner, he’ll do it in the bright light of day right under her nose.”
And later, after the diner closed and the streets were quiet, the devious little time bomb would explode and engulf the structure in flames within moments.
“You heard what she said,” Jared argued, rallying. “She feels better. And whether or not the modifications she made were necessary in this particular instance, they were still smart.”
“It’s my job to help make her feel safe, and clearly she wasn’t feeling that way.”
“Right.” His gaze bore into her. “And people should sleep with their doors open because we have law enforcement.”
“Not quite the same thing.” The residents had been horrified at the first fire but trusted her and Jim to deal with it. The second fire had made things a little shakier, but they’d still been sure an arrest was imminent. By the third fire, people stopped thinking the authorities were just a step away from catching the arsonist and they started thinking about fending for themselves.
“Get over yourself, Darcy. Unless you totally f**ked up the evidence collection and analysis, you’ve done your job and you’re continuing to do your job by sending for help when you need it. Pat yourself on the back and give props to the people who are thinking forward instead of backward.”
“I’m not sure if I like you or not.”
“Don’t like me. Let’s keep this simple.”
She nodded without hesitation. After all, she was willing to indulge herself with him precisely because he was just passing through. Anything more than sex was beyond her at this point in her life. “Works for me.”
He was on his feet before Ginny reached their table with a takeout bag of food and a cardboard drink carrier. “Let’s go, Inspector. We have a lot of work to get through between now and six o’clock.”
JARED SET THE take-out bag down on the desk in Darcy’s office and swept the narrow room with an examining glance. As he dug out his foam box, he considered the logistics of nailing her on the six-foot-long folding table set beneath the window that looked into the firehouse’s heavy apparatus bay. Unfortunately, its flimsiness wouldn’t hold up to the abuse, and it certainly wouldn’t be professional, although a quickie would do a lot to restore his concentration. He didn’t trust her desk, either, with its ultramodern glass top artfully balanced on a network of thin chrome bars.
“Miller’s bark is worse than his bite, by the way.” She reached around him for her shake, and he breathed her in, smelling warm clean woman.
The sheriff was in his mid-thirties and an obvious devotee to free weights, but he was no threat. Jared had spent six years with Delta Force before he’d joined the U.S. Marshals Service’s elite Special Operations Group. There wasn’t a human alive he couldn’t severely maim or kill.
“My partner will deal with Miller. Even if she feels like killing him, she’ll restrain herself.” He took a bite out of his burger before occupying one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Pausing midchew, he mumbled an awed, “Holy shit.”
Her lips curved around her straw. “Damn good burger, isn’t it?”
He swallowed. “Insanely.”
It was nearly as good as she looked when she smiled. You’ll be seeing stars when I’m done with you. Fuck of it was, he was inclined to believe her. She was doing a number on him already without even trying. What would she do to him if she put some effort into it…?
She rounded the desk and pulled open the top drawer of the filing cabinet. His gaze moved from her to the wall of cantilevered glass and chrome bookshelves behind her. Either the city invested a lot in the comfort of their civil servants or she’d spent her own dime dressing the space up. He was inclined to think that the utilitarian gray metal folding table and chairs were provided courtesy of the city. The run-of-the-mill filing cabinet, too. But the bookshelf unit and matching desk were all her—strong, eye-catching, and sexy. And the indulgence suggested that she spent a lot of time working…or felt the most at home in her office.
His gaze caught on a silver-framed picture on a shelf behind her. It was a snapshot of her when she was younger, wearing a cheerleader uniform and standing with her arm thrown across the shoulders of a mirror image of herself dressed in a band costume.
“You’re a twin.”
She pushed the drawer shut and returned to the desk, setting three manila folders on the glass. “Yes.”
He wondered if her sister was anything like her. Maybe Darcy was the naughty twin. The thought made his overeager dick harden all over again. The word “naughty” thought of in conjunction with “Darcy” seemed to have that now-predictable effect on him.
“Shall we start with the first fire?” she asked, moving right along.
He resumed eating and nodded, but found himself slightly irritated by her lack of elaboration, which was a stupid response. Keeping things simple meant keeping them impersonal. He should be glad she was on the same page.
Pulling the bottom file free, Darcy opened it and began to carefully spread out photographs on her desk. Aside from a quirky blown-glass pen holder and red metal toolbox, there was nothing cluttering the pristine surface.
Jared chewed on a perfectly crispy French fry and studied the crime scene photos. She began to explain what he was looking at.
“The fire began at approximately ten o’clock in the evening. The owner locked up at eight. It started here,” she pointed to the third picture, “in the hallway outside the restrooms.”
“It was a brick-faced building?” he queried, noting the rubble.
“Yes. Florinda’s Dance Studio took over the old firehouse after the town moved all the civil services into this one area and called it a town square.” Darcy pulled another photo out of the file, this one a close-up framed with an L-square ruler, and set it in front of him. “See these curled aluminum shavings? They tested positive for traces of white phosphorous. It’s likely that the incendiary device was hidden in a soda can dropped into a waste bin.”
“Interesting.”
“You know what I think is interesting?” Setting her palms on the desktop, she leaned forward. “An arsonist who picks a brick building. There are buildings in Lion’s Bay that have been around for over a century. Good, old-fashioned wood-sided and shingled structures that would light up like a match, in areas where other buildings nearby would light up just as quickly.”
He’d been thinking along those same lines. “Any possibility this is insurance fraud?”
“With the extra fires being a deflection? The incendiary device is too sophisticated for a dabbler. Our subject is a pro.”
“Right. Go on.”
“Structure number two was an old animal shelter, built mostly from cement block.” Darcy slid the photos from the first fire into a neat pile and put them away before grabbing the second folder. She set the new photos out with care. “This location is very out of the way, but there’s a lot of vegetation. It might’ve gotten ugly if we hadn’t just had days of rain that saturated the area.”