Suspect Passions by V. K. Powell Page A

range of emotions that had played out on her face during the recitation. Now her shoulders sagged and she looked almost lost, her expression downcast and her brilliantly green eyes shadowed. Something in that look twisted Regan’s insides into a knot of confusion and hunger. Suddenly she was back in that alley denying accusations of jealousy, with Syd’s gaze burning her skin, seeing through her façade to the truth she didn’t want to admit.
    “Syd,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry about the other night. I had no right to seek you out at the club. That was terribly unprofessional. Invading your privacy is not part of my job description and neither is trying to control your personal activities, sexual or otherwise.”
    “You did that so easily, apologizing, I mean. It sounded as effortless as saying good morning when entering a room.” She seemed to be considering her next statement. “It’s not so easy for me, but I’m sorry for lashing out at you. It’s not your fault my life is in the crapper.”
    “Still, I overreacted, made an assumption that was unwarranted.” Regan reached over and took Syd’s hands in hers. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this whole thing again.”
    Regan felt heat rising between them and stood, intending to move away and return to work. She hesitated before asking her next question, knowing it had less to do with the case and more to do with her curiosity about Sydney Cabot. “Do you remember what you were feeling during the incident?”
    “Feeling?” Regan’s hands were still on hers. She released their grasp, took a deep breath, and cupped Regan’s face in her palms. “ This is how I feel now, and now is what matters.” She brushed her fingers over Regan’s bottom lip and tugged the moist, soft skin between her thumb and forefinger. “God, you’re beautiful.”
    Regan felt as though her lips were on fire. The rush that accompanied Syd’s touch blazed deep inside. She was lost in green eyes that sparked heat but produced moisture in her most private places. Her hands moved upward to taut biceps that quivered with suppressed desire. Her body ignored all mental attempts at control, and she allowed herself to be pulled closer to Syd’s luscious mouth.
    “Kiss me,” Syd whispered.
    “Yes.” Regan thought the voice sounded like hers but the body response was definitely foreign. She felt the warmth of Syd’s breath on her face and inhaled her earthy fragrance. She waited to be consumed by the passion that was Syd, the passion she’d seen so freely shared and had so unabashedly craved since that night at the club.
    The memory registered like a cold shower. She didn’t know this woman. This was what Sydney Cabot did. She seduced women to escape from her pain. I won’t be one of them. It took every ounce of energy Regan could summon to pull back. Her body screamed for connection, to be joined with the only thing she had lusted desperately for in her entire life. The thought itself was sobering.
    “I can’t do this, Syd.” She walked toward the door, talking as she went. “Please check in tomorrow.”
    In disbelief, Syd watched Regan move away from her. Their lips had been so close that she could almost taste the mixture of peppermint and cola on her breath. In the next instant she was gone. What had happened?
    As she replayed the last few minutes in her mind, it became clear. She had happened, her typical response to anything that came close to feelings—divert and run. They’d shared a few honest moments, let their respective guards down, and then bam— she regressed into a hormone-driven, emotion-dodging, pitiful excuse for a human being. Uncomfortable feelings had started to surface and she burrowed further into her protective shell, letting her body and libido take charge. It was probably just as well; she was in no condition to offer anything beyond the pleasures of the flesh. And it seemed Regan had troubles of her own, aside from defending her in