The lady’s other qualities were another story. A naive innocence lurked beneath the seductive body. She lacked the hard edge he’d expected, the tough facade he’d been prepared to face. Instead she’d been uncertain and unsure. She might have grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but life hadn’t visibly hardened her, at least not yet.
Lush curves on the outside and a gentleness on the inside. It was the softness that beckoned to him and that shook him up.
“Either the lady’s running more than a charm school or she isn’t,” the Captain said.
Kane shrugged, recalling her uneasiness at dealing with compliments and her unwillingness to accept his initial invitation. An act? A game designed to bait a man, to entice him until they fell into a sweaty tangle between the sheets? Or the ultimate rarity on this planet, an honest soul with nothing to hide? Kane had no idea.
“We’ll see.”
Captain Reid smacked his hand on the metal desk. “No, you’ll see, McDermott. Just make sure you pay more attention to the lady than you do to the game.”
Kane didn’t take offense. The old man’s gruff ways had kept Kane going too many times, when he’d watched neighborhood friends overdose or go down on a bust. The older man had faith in a young kid even when no one else cared enough to bother. He knew Kane’s sense of duty was strong.
“After this one I don’t want to see your sorry butt in here until the middle of next week.”
“A good weekend to you, too. Say hi to Marge.”
“Do it yourself,” Reid grumbled. “She says you don’t come by often enough.” He turned and strode back into his office.
Kane got his mind back on the case. He let the captain’s words about Kayla sink in. Doling out attention to Ms. Luck wouldn’t be a hardship. In her silk top and pearl earrings she was a sexy woman who any guy would be lucky to claim as his own.
Except a cop whose job it was to take down a prostitution ring…if it existed. Her place could be a front as his informant claimed. Maybe the sister knew more than Kayla, but according to his files, Catherine Luck had signed over ownership and was more concerned with her education than the school that paid for it.
He swiveled back and forth in his seat. He had a hard time believing the innocence in that green-eyed gaze wasn’t real but an act for the customer’s benefit. His hands clenched into fists at the thought of Miss Kayla Luck.
Chemistry flared between them hot and strong. Unmistakable. Verbal seduction wouldn’t be a problem tonight, but keeping his hands to himself just might be. He shook his head, trying to dislodge any thoughts caused more by emotion than common sense. Cash in exchange for sex, he reminded himself. Money up-front. Stick to the plan and the answers would follow.
And Kane always stuck to the plan. As a punk kid, he’d followed a different code of conduct than the one he lived by now, but respecting the law on the street had kept him alive. As a cop, he walked on the other side. The rules were different but the reasoning the same. If he followed the rules, he kept his edge honed. Anything less and he didn’t deserve his badge.
Kane closed his eyes and a vision of Kayla danced before them. Between a body made for a man’s touch and a heart-shaped face that would test a saint, he had the distinct notion he needed that edge more than ever before.
“IT’S A BASEBALL GAME, not a formal banquet.”
“It’s a date, not order-in Chinese food with your sister,” Catherine countered. She threw a disgusted glance at Kayla’s old sweatshirt and blue jeans. “Are you trying to turn the man off before he gets to know how disgustingly smart you are?”
Kayla thought back to his references about her classes and how smart women turned him on. He couldn’t possibly know that much about her after such a brief meeting. It had to be a lucky guess. “I don’t want to look too eager,” she said.
“More like you don’t want to look too easy.” Her sister grabbed Kayla’s hand. Head held high, Catherine led the way to her bedroom, a short distance down the hall from Kayla’s own. With dramatic flair so opposite to Kayla’s more subdued actions, Catherine flung open the closet door and began riffling through the clothes inside.
“They won’t fit,” Kayla muttered.
“Maybe we don’t share the same bra size, but don’t tell me you don’t steal my clothes every once in a while.”
“Borrow.”
“What’s the difference?” Catherine held up a yellow blouse, made a face and hung it back on the rack. “I know I swipe yours.” She came out of the small walk-in with a white turtleneck and a pale blue satin jacket. “Here. Leave the jeans and try this. The jacket’s quilted, by the way. It’s supposed to be chilly tonight.”
Kayla glanced at the outfit, more casual than her usual Brooks-Brothers type look. Still, when she tried on the clothes, she had to admit she looked okay. Catherine made a show of walking around her twice, hands on her hips in a judgmental pose. “Perfect. Better than all those trousers and silk blouses you wear. So stuffy-even Mama wouldn’t have left the house like that.”
“Mama liked to dress her own way,” Kayla said, thinking of the woman who had raised her girls alone. A woman with a heart of gold, but tarnished luck.
They hadn’t had much money, but their mother had always made sure she looked her best before leaving the house. Unfortunately her best too often fell short. She looked like what she was: the checkout girl at the local supermarket, an aging woman still attempting to look younger than her years. Until Catherine had taken over clothes shopping, the Luck sisters had usually gone to school looking like miniclones of their beautiful, but flamboyant mother.
“Men definitely took notice,” Catherine said.
“Too bad she never looked at them. Maybe things would have been different.”
“Maybe Mama wouldn’t have died of overwork and a broken heart?” Catherine shook her head. “She chose her life.”
“She liked pining for Daddy, that’s for sure. You ever wonder if Daddy pined back?” Kayla asked.
Her sister shook her head. “I think one kid scared him to death, two made him worse than a coward.”
“Do you really have to sound so…full of hate?” Kayla muttered.
“I don’t hate him. Actually I don’t feel much about him at all. But truth is truth.” Catherine pinned her with her steady gaze. “I don’t think all men are like him if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Not in the love ’em and leave ’em department,” Kayla agreed. “But in the can’t keep their hands to themselves department, men are all the same.” After all, her parents had had Kayla and Catherine within one year of each other. If that wasn’t a prime example of too much lovin’, as her mother liked to call it, then she didn’t know what was.
Catherine lowered herself onto her frilly white bedspread. “You know, a guy not keeping his hands to himself can be nice.”
For someone with Catherine’s confidence, maybe. Kayla joined her, staring at her fingers spread over her jean-clad legs. “Are you going out tonight?” Kayla asked.
“You bet. Dancing at Shooters.” She snapped her hands in the air. “With Nick.”
Nick had been Catherine’s best friend for years. Kayla suspected he’d once been in love with her beautiful sister, too. But Cat wasn’t interested and Nick had moved on, apparently content as Cat’s best friend. And Catherine was alone.
Kayla narrowed her eyes and took in her sister’s miniskirt and tights, her stretch top that showed off delicate curves. Catherine didn’t have Kayla’s lush figure, but she attracted her own share of attention. Kayla admired her sister but she also knew she had her own share of insecurities. Cat covered them well but the truth was obvious. Both Luck sisters had been scarred by their childhood experiences.