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Seductions' Gift - Hot Blooded Anthology

As she radioed for help transporting her prisoners, Lance sauntered over. Scooping her hat off the floor, he presented it with a flourish. "Nice work."

"Thanks." She settled the hat precisely on her head. Her eyes flicking over to the unconscious bruiser, she keyed her mic again. "Oh, and send an ambulance. We've got one Signal Eight." Releasing the button, Grace looked at him. "Which means 'knocked cold.' Very pretty punch, by the way. Looks like you broke his nose."

Lance shrugged. "Judging by the interesting contours, that's been done before."

She smiled, full lips curving. "Probably by half the people who know him. And the other half have thought about it."

"And should have followed through on the impulse." Staring at that soft, unpainted mouth, Lance considered kissing her. He really wanted to find out how she'd taste.

She'd probably slug him.

Might be worth it, though. Grace had been pretty even as a teenager, but as a woman, she was lovely. In contrast to that tough, athlete's body, she had the face of an art deco wood nymph. Her cheekbones were delicately curved rather than sculpted under that creamy, fine-grained skin, and her nose was slim and straight above sweetly seductive lips. Her eyes shone a translucent, crystalline blue that was almost gem-like. Lance wondered how long that honey-blonde hair would be, freed of its vicious braid. He'd love to run his fingers through it and find out.

But he was even more interested in getting that black uniform unbuttoned. Even through its thick fabric, he could tell Grace had very pretty breasts.

"When is your shift over?" Lance cleared his throat, trying to rid his voice of its low growl of need. "I'd like to talk."

"I wouldn't." She lifted her stubborn little chin. "I know what you're going to say, and I'm not interested."

He'd had played the game far too long to believe that lie. Lance look a step closer, dipped his head to her ear, and purred, "Are you sure?"

Her pulse began to pound beneath the satin skin of her throat. Before he could yield to temptation, she took a step back. "Very. Excuse me, I think the Duke of Budweiser is regaining consciousness." Without another glance at him, she moved away to kneel beside her weakly stirring prisoner.

Lance's narrowed eyes swept from her long, delicate nape to the enticing curve of her ass. He started toward her....