Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [45]
Faith ordered a tall soy sugar-free cinnamon dolce latte no whip no foam no sprinkles. He ordered black coffee and a brownie. They snagged the empty table in front of the window.
“So how are we going to do this?” she asked,
“Do what?”
“Work together on this case.”
“We’re not.”
“It would be more efficient.”
“Says you.”
“Look, it’s not my idea of fun either.”
“It’s not supposed to be fun,” he growled.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “That was a bad choice of words.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Keeping her gaze on the theater across the street, she sipped her latte.
“How are we supposed to work together given the circumstances?” he demanded.
“I didn’t say it would be easy.”
“I’m a former Marine. We don’t do easy.”
“But you believe in teamwork, right?”
“When we’re sharing the same mission, yes. Not with—”
“—the enemy?” she inserted.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Her gaze moved to his mouth, his sinful mouth. He’d done some darkly sensual things to her in Italy with that mouth of his. And his recent kiss proved that what they’d shared in Positano hadn’t been a fluke. The physical chemistry was still there, stronger than ever.
“Is that look for me or for my brownie?” he asked.
“Your brownie.”
“You want?” He held up a small piece to her lips, daring her to take it. “How badly do you want?”
She turned up her nose, which only made his fingers brush her bottom lip and her chin. She couldn’t let him see how much he got to her. She had to keep her head here and not get pulled into his magnetic field.
“How badly do you want?” she said.
“I’ve got the brownie. You don’t.”
“Yes, but I’ve got the file on your father’s case, and you don’t.”
“And you’re willing to share?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Not the entire file.”
“Why not?”
“Because if my father found out . . . he wouldn’t be pleased.”
“If his company has nothing to hide, then he shouldn’t mind.”
“I am willing to share some information.”
“Go ahead.” He sat back in his chair.
“Only four people worked closely on this particular biofuel project. Your father was in charge of it. He had two other chemists working with him at the research facility in Joliet: Dr. Fred Belkin and Dr. Nolan Parker.”
“I already knew that.”
“Fred died of a brain tumor last year.”
“Again, old news,” he said.
“Did you know that several former employees of American Research Corporation’s research facility had or have brain tumors? They’re presently suing the company.”
“So? What does that have to do with my father’s case?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said.
“Are you insinuating that my father may have had a brain tumor and that’s what made him embezzle money?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. And what about Nolan Parker?”
“What about him?”
“What role did he play in this whole thing? Have you talked to him?”
“Not yet. I know from his earlier statements that he firmly believed my father was guilty.”
“What reasons might Nolan have for saying that?”
They spent the next half hour talking about possible scenarios without reaching any conclusions. To her surprise, she enjoyed brainstorming with Caine. Once he set his hatred for her father aside, they were able to work together well.
But how realistic was it to expect him to feel any other way if he blamed her father for his dad’s death? What if the situation was reversed? How would she feel if she thought his dad was responsible for her father’s death? The idea gave her chills. And not the good kind.
Why had Caine kissed her earlier? Had it been to distract her? Or to make her fall for him harder?
Working with him didn’t mean that she trusted him any more than he trusted her.
She looked out the window. “They’re coming out of the theater.”
“Weldon?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see him.”
They waited until the last person had departed. No Weldon.
Caine checked his watch. “Gotta go. I’ve got things to do.” He stood and made a hasty retreat.
She wanted