Vonner released her, but his dark-eyed gaze had gone beyond her to the man standing inside the dark-paneled den. The cold cases they investigated now had occurred before other life. His gaze met hers, his green eyes burning with an intensity that had heat streaking through her body.Even though several feet separated them, she could feel not just the touch of his stare but the touch of his hands, caressing the curve of her waist, the slope of her hip, cupping the weight of her breasts She could feel his skin sliding over hers as she lay naked beneath him, her hands clutching at the rippling muscles of his back.His hands shaking slightly, he planted his palms on the shiny mahogany surface of his desk and said, "That's not necessary.
But this man didn't look like Trent Baines, who had dark blond hair and penetrating green eyes.
"I've read everything you've written."Baines picked up a pen from the leather blotter on his desk and, as if he hadn't heard her, flipped through the first couple pages of the book.
"So you are a fan.""I'm an investigator."He scribbled something and held out the book to her.
He obviously didn't spend all his time behind his desk.
Yet how had he written so many books, and achieved so much success, at an age she guessed to be close to her own thirty years?