This was definitely not business conversation. Business conversation wouldn’t make her flesh tingle, or cause a rush of warmth to spread through her body.
“I’ll tell you what. If we leave right after my talk, we can have a nightcap at my place.”
Christie was momentarily speechless. “What about those contacts we were going to make?”
“Just a tiny drink?” Cash pressed thumb and forefinger together to emphasize his words.
“I have to be up early to type the report on Elliot Parker’s handwriting.”
Cash tilted his head and his boyish grin teased her. She felt her resolve slipping. What harm could there be in accepting a nightcap?
CHAPTER TWO
They left the hotel and drove across the Golden Gate Bridge into Sausalito. Christie’s curiosity was piqued when Cash turned the SUV into a parking lot along the wharf. A grin appeared on his face.
“Did I mention that I live on a sailboat? I hope you don’t get seasick.”
“A surprise a minute,” Christie said as she unbuckled her seat belt.
Ankle-high lights splashed a yellow glow across the weathered dock. The only sound accompanying their footsteps on the rough wooden planks was the rhythmic heaving of boats rocking in time to the waves. A distant motorboat skimmed across the slate-gray water; the blur of its running lights resembled a shooting star.
They stopped at the last slip. Moonlight etched silver shadows across a large sailboat with the name Serenade painted across the bow. It didn’t take a seaman’s knowledge to appreciate the forty-two-foot sloop’s trim lines.
The lazily moving boat did not appear to offer firm footing, and Christie was hesitant about going on board. The ease with which Cash bridged the space between boat and dock did not alter her anxiety.
“Don’t be frightened. Slip off your shoes and give them to me.” Christie removed the heels and stood, uncertainly, in her stocking feet. Cash stashed her shoes and reached for her hands. He held them in a firm grip while she hopped onto the boat’s deck. She landed against him and he smoothed the hair away from her face and tipped her chin upward. Looking into his eyes was like being zapped by a live wire—being too close could be lethal. She slipped her hands out of his grasp, planted her palms against his chest, and eased away.
She became aware of the intensity of his gaze, and the hair at the nape of her neck rose as though brushed with static electricity. Her breath caught in her throat and she was engulfed with apprehension. It had been naive to accept an invitation for a nightcap.
Cash wrapped an arm around her waist to guide her along the deck. Although he was assisting her in maintaining her physical balance, he threw her emotions off-kilter.
Entering the salon, he switched on a table lamp, illuminating a comfortable room outfitted in tweed, oak, and brass. He walked to a small Swedish fireplace and turned on the gas logs. The golden flames danced in the grate and cast flickering shadows on the teak walls. He put a CD on the stereo and the salon was filled with the soothing sounds of Kenny G.
“Wine?” he asked.
“Vintage wine, mood music, the sea, and firelight. Quite a love nest.”
“You forgot the most important element: a beautiful woman.”
Her heartbeat accelerated. “Almost sounds like a prelude to making a pass.”
“Would you object?
“Yes, I would.”
“Whatever you say.” Cash handed her a glass of wine. “I don’t want to ruin the evening by overstepping the boundaries. Sit down and tell me about yourself. What made you decide to become a document examiner?”
“I was intrigued by a case in the news about a woman who was instrumental in uncovering a major fraud scheme. She was a questioned document examiner, and without her expertise, a dozen grandmotherly ladies would have been robbed of their life savings. I could not get the case out of my mind and I realized that I wanted to follow the same career path. This sounds corny, but I wanted to make a difference. And being able to authenticate or dispute a document’s validity gave me that opportunity.” She took a sip of wine. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question: Why do you live on a boat? Surely you can afford a house or condo in the city.”
“I’m on a hectic schedule, and I admit to being a workaholic. I start early and finish late. My only source of relaxation is sailing. Water is my element and living on a boat provides instant access to the sea.”
Christie could visualize him standing on the deck, clad in short trunks, his tanned, muscled body glistening with a diamond spray of water. It was a disconcerting picture.
She put down her wineglass and stood up. “I’d better be on my way or I might be tempted to play hooky tomorrow.” She hoped she had achieved a light enough tone. She did not want Cash to sense the effect he had on her.
“Why the turnaround? Did I say something to disturb you?”
Christie became aware that he was standing too close, but she could not dredge up the strength to back away. He reached to touch her shoulders and his breath whispered across her face. She was on dangerous ground.
“If you don’t take me home immediately, I won’t have the energy to record the Parker documents for your friends tomorrow.”
Cash’s smile was thin, his smoky gaze indefinable. “You’re right, I should get you home.”
At her apartment door, Cash’s farewell did not hold the slightest suggestion of his earlier flirtation.
Christie put a kettle of water on the stove before slipping off her clothes and wrapping herself in a bathrobe. Tosha had been sleeping on the bed and she lifted her head for only a moment. It was obviously past the cat’s bedtime, and she merely gave a soft meow to acknowledge her human roommate.
Christie’s bristling tension indicated that sleep would be elusive, so, settling on the couch, she attempted to relax, but thoughts of Cash disrupted her concentration. It was impossible to bring a semblance of calm to her mind and body.
A piercing whistle made her leap to her feet and race into the kitchen. She fixed a cup of hot chocolate and returned to the living room, where she sank onto the couch and tucked her legs underneath her. While she sipped the hot chocolate, her thoughts returned to Cash.
Why was she attracted to him? She admired his courtroom skills, that was true, but there were other talented men in her circle, good-looking ones, too. None had stirred her emotions. Why was Cash different? Perhaps part of the draw was the mix of sensitivity she perceived when he spoke of his family and friends, and his go-get-’em assertiveness. And his easy compliments made her feel good about herself.
She did not have any compunction about dating within her profession. Being in business for herself put her and Cash on equal footing. Still, if things got heavy and then went wrong, it would be uncomfortable for them to work together. And she needed all the clients she could get.
Sighing over unresolved conflicts, she set the empty cup and saucer in the kitchen sink and went to bed. She turned out the light and Tosha roused herself long enough to snuggle against the backs of Christie’s knees.
At the office the following morning, she printed copies of Elliot Parker’s letters, which she had scanned into the computer and enlarged the day before. She spread the papers across the desk and marked each one to indicate similarities in the writing. The notations corresponded to documentation in her report.
A little before noon she arrived at Cash’s office. He was on the phone, and he signaled her to sit down. She placed the report on her lap and pretended to study it so that it would not appear that she was eavesdropping.
Cash was arguing about a client’s rights being violated and his commanding tone of voice indicated that someone in the district attorney’s office was probably on the other end of the line.