His smile faded as he sensed her lingering distraction. As much as he longed to drown in the silken pleasure of her body, Duncan wanted her full and complete attention when he was seducing her.
“Okay, Callie,” he murmured. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I was just thinking about what Boggs said.”
“Before breakfast?” He gave a dramatic shudder. “No wonder you’re not a morning person.”
She ignored his teasing. “He said that ‘to see into the future you must look into the past.”’
Duncan snorted. Boggs had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t want Callie taking risks just because some crazy doppelganger implied that he’d seen her in some psychic vision.
“He said a lot of ridiculous things.”
“Maybe.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe not.”
His spidey-senses jangled. He knew that look. And it was never good.
“So what are you scheming?”
She didn’t even blink at his impressive ability to read her expression. Why would she? She’d been raised among people who could peer into her every thought.
“There has to be some way we can discover more about Lord Zakhar.”
He stiffened, desperately battling against the primitive male urge to inform her that there was no way in hell she was going to put herself in danger. His sisters had taught him that the swiftest way to get a woman to do something was to tell her she couldn’t. Sexist? Maybe. But the knowledge had come in handy on more than one occasion.
“Internet?” he instead suggested. “I know a computer whiz at the station who could locate any information you need.”
“I prefer to find original journals if possible. They tend to be a little more reliable.”
Of course she preferred the originals. It couldn’t have been that simple.
“Will you travel to Russia?”
“Yes. Fane can take me.”
“Great,” he muttered.
She arched a brow. “It’s his job.”
It was. That didn’t mean Duncan had to like it.
“Fine. Then I’ll do my job and start a search for a strange Russian who has recently come to town.” His mind was already shifting through his various contacts. “If there’s word in the streets I’ll hear it.”
She reached up to touch the whiskers that shadowed his jaw. “You sound like a cop.”
“I don’t feel like a cop.”
“No?”
He turned his head to press his lips to the center of her palm. “No, I feel like a man who wants to lock away his lover to keep her safe.”
She jerked her hand away, her lips thinning in silent warning. “Duncan.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he hastily assured her. “I might occasionally act like a caveman, but I’m well aware I can’t drag you off to my cave.”
“Not if you want to keep your family jewels.”
He flinched. “Point made.” He smoothed his fingers through the rumpled crimson silk of her hair. “Besides, I understand better than anyone how important your gifts are to the world. It would be a sin against nature not to share them.”
She frowned. “You don’t have to mock me.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He shifted his hand to cup her cheek as she tried to turn away. “Callie, look at me.”
Grudgingly she turned back to meet his somber gaze. “What?”
“I know what you’ve done.”
“Done?”
“Every time you take a murderer off the street you save lives.” He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “I can’t even imagine how many people owe you their future.”
She blushed, clearly uncomfortable at being praised for her gifts. “Hopefully a few.”
“A few?” He made a sound of disbelief. “Smithfield alone was on a pace to kill at least one child a week. He would have slaughtered hundreds of innocents.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss. “You saved them.”
“Not just me,” she protested, her voice breathless as he traced her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “He wouldn’t be off the street unless you tracked him down.”
“We make a good team.”
“A team?”
“Why not?” He pulled back to study her startled expression. “We’d be perfect together.”
Her eyes darkened with an emotion she was swiftly hiding behind a pretense of indifference. “You barely know me.”
He smiled with sinful enjoyment. “I’d say I know you better than most. Although I’m not opposed to further exploration.”
She punched his chest. “That’s not what I meant.”
His smile faded. “I know you, Callie Brown. At least what you’re willing to share. Which isn’t much.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like me you’re forced to wade through the muck to accomplish your job.”
She grimaced. “True.”
“Which means you never celebrate when a killer is arrested because you remember the death and destruction that you weren’t able to prevent.” His fingers lightly traced the stubborn line of her jaw. “Am I right?”
A hint of need softened her expression. “Yes.”
“And, like me, you keep others at a distance because you know they don’t see the world with the same eyes.”
She studied him for a long minute. Wary. Or maybe cautious. “You think we’re the same?”
He paused. It would be easy to make a flippant comment. A teasing remark that would deflect her attention without revealing his growing vulnerability.
But meeting the sapphire gaze, he knew this was important.
“I think we connect on a level that goes way beyond the physical, don’t you?”
“It’s—”
“Scary as hell?” He filled in the blanks. “Yeah, I know.”
Her eyes narrowed as his hand smoothed down the curve of her ass, urging her onto her side so they were face to face.
“You don’t seem particularly scared,” she accused.
He lost a heartbeat as she pressed against the thrust of his erection.
He was so hard the mere brush of her hot skin was nearly enough to send him over the edge.
“I have other things on my mind,” he muttered.
She wiggled against him, a small smile curving her lips. “Not just on your mind.”