Josh stepped behind her into the small kitchen. "Regan."

"It's late, McCall," she said, keeping her back to him. "You should go."

"First off, things go smoother if people look at each other when they talk." He settled his hands on her shoulders, felt them stiffen beneath his palms when he turned her to face him. "Second, there's a look I've seen in your eyes--"

"It's called fatigue." She pressed a palm against his chest. "It's been a long day. Like I said, you need to leave."

"In a minute." She smelled of lemony soap. Clean, fresh and simple. "This morning at the crash scene, while you worked to save Amelia, I could almost see whatever it is inside you that you want to keep hidden. All day, I've been thinking about what that might be. Wondering where you've been. Where you're going. Asking myself how many pieces do I have to find to solve the puzzle that's Regan Ford."

"I'm not a damn puzzle."

"To me you are." He was suddenly aware of how quiet the building was, how dark the balcony outside had been, and how the two of them were alone in a tiny alcove in a very small apartment.

It was crazy, he thought. He had no business forgetting that something about her hadn't felt right since the first time he'd talked to her. Or that he'd resolved to keep an eye on her to make sure he protected the interests of the woman who was like a second mother to him. Still, there was no law that said he couldn't enjoy the proximity while he was at it.

And, crazy or not, he wanted to feel Regan's mouth on his. Find out if she tasted as good as she looked.

He lifted a hand, trailed his fingers down her cheek, along her jaw, then down so that he felt the pulse in her throat beat hard and erratic. He lowered his mouth toward hers, stopping an inch before contact. He watched her eyes darken, heard her long intake of breath. He waited, while his already hot blood surged and he knew they were both suffering.

His lips brushed over hers, and he felt her tremble. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he settled one hand at the bend of her waist, cupped his other palm against the side of her throat.

He closed his mouth over hers, teased her lips apart with his tongue and tasted the arousal on her first shaky breath.

He'd known her mouth would taste like this -- hot and tempting. Known her flesh would feel as smooth as soft butter. Had that been why he'd lain awake in bed for hours tonight thinking of her? Had that been why, beneath the urgent concern he'd felt a tug of pleasure when Etta called and asked him to come check on Regan? As his blood burned and time bled away, he found that the reasons didn't matter. Not while his mouth was pressed against hers.

When a soft moan slid up her throat, it took all of his control not to bring her closer, to deepen the kiss. Instead, he kept it a slow, long glide, full of erotic promise.

His kiss was ravaging, not in force but in effect. Desire poured through Regan like heated wine, and she had to tether her body's instinctive need to mold to his. She struggled to breathe. Her lungs weren't working properly, only drawing in fast, shallow breaths. Her palms were still braced against his chest and she felt the incredible heat of his body through his shirt. Her skin was on fire, too, almost painfully sensitive. She couldn't think while her heart thudded and need slammed into her like a velvet fist. And she had to think.

"No." She pulled back as far as she could with his with hand gripping her waist. Her head was spinning while her breath came in ragged gulps. "I ... don't want this."

He arched a brow. "That's not the message you're sending, Regan."

"You got dragged out here because Etta called you. Because there wasn't a local cop available." She closed her eyes for an instant. "I appreciate you coming."

"I didn't get dragged here. And I don't want your thanks."

"That's all I can give you."

Her skin was no longer pale, but flushed. The heat of it pumped her soft, lemon scent into his lungs. Watching her, he slid his fingers around her hand, brought it up and pressed his lips to her wrist. He felt her pulse jerk, scramble. "Our stopping won't change anything. I'm still going to want you. You're still going to want me."

Her hand trembled against his palm. "We're still stopping. I want you to back off."

It cost him, but he dropped his hands, stepped back. "Want to tell me why we're stopping?"

She moved into the living room, putting as much space between them as possible before she turned to face him. "I was wrong to let things between us go this far." She wrapped her arms around her waist. "It's not what I want."

He angled his chin. Holding her, he'd felt her burning as hot for him as he had for her. Even now, traces of a sultry yearning glinted in her eyes and her awareness of him showed plainly in her face. He was a man who knew how to wait, to choose his time and his place in order to get what he wanted. And she was the woman he wanted.

"Then I'll be going." He retrieved his flashlight and the baggy holding the evidence he'd collected, then strode to the French doors. With his hand on the knob he paused, taking her in. She stood in the center of the living room, alone and defiant, her chin angled like a sword.

He'd known her just over twenty-four hours. In that time, they'd felt a young girl's life slip between their fingers. Then shared a kiss. Each event had evoked far different emotions, but emotions all the same. Something was tugging at his insides -- whatever it was, was as big a mystery as the woman who'd demanded he keep his distance.

As a cop, he was skilled at solving mysteries, step by step.

"Till next time, Regan," he said, then stepped out into the heated night air and closed the door behind him.

Clicking on the flashlight, he descended the wooden staircase, then climbed into the 'Vette. His gaze lifted, settled on the French doors with soft light glowing behind them. He wanted another taste of her. A long, slow, deep taste that didn't stop at just a kiss.

While he worked on that, he was going to start peeling away the layers and find out exactly what was going on with Regan Ford.
_____________________________________________

From the book: MOST WANTED WOMAN
By: Maggie Price
Imprint and Series: Silhouette Intimate Moments #1396
Publication Date: December 2005
ISBN: 0373274661
Copyright © 2005
By: Margaret Price
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.