Legally Hot by Leigh, Lora (smart ebook reader TXT) 📗

That dream of belonging.

  DEADLY DANCE

  CHEYENNE McCRAY

  ONE

  “Detective Adam Boyd, NYPD.” He held up his shield so that the woman could get a good look at it through her screen door. Her porch light was bright enough that she should be able to see it. He heard a dog barking at the back of the house.

She studied him for a moment. “What do you need, Detective?”

“Ms. Holliday,” he said. “I’d like a few words with you about Edward Carter.”

Through the mesh screen he saw Keri Holliday’s shadowy expression freeze. Given his intimate knowledge of this case, he was sure she wasn’t going to like what he had to tell her.

Hell, the news had hit him like a truck slamming into a concrete barrier. The instant burn in Adam’s gut had come with a wash of memories that could turn him into a killing machine rather than a levelheaded cop. The desire for revenge was so strong that it was all he could do not to hunt Carter down and empty his Glock into the sonofabitch’s chest.

During the pause between telling Keri he wanted to speak to her about Carter and when she finally opened the screen door, the March night wind picked up. The month was going out like a lion and the icy wind cut through the opening in his jacket, through his T-shirt, straight to his skin like claws.

In a good impression of chalk screeching across a blackboard, the screen door squeaked as she pushed it open, and he barely kept from wincing at the sound.

“Come in.” Keri stood aside so that he could enter the modest-looking Brooklyn Heights carriage home.

Like other carriage houses on the street, hers didn’t begin to look like it would go for the astronomical prices that were being asked for the homes. Adam lived in Brooklyn, too, but had a much less pricey Victorian in Kensington. Much less pricey.

As Adam started to take a step inside, his gaze met hers. For a moment he forgot why he was there. Something stirred in him, something beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

Seven years ago, the severity of an injury had kept him from interviewing her with his partner, Jerry. Adam would never have forgotten how beautiful Keri Holliday was. He could never forget a face like hers.

The room’s soft lighting touched her. Eyes the color of dark green jade. Long auburn hair drawn back in a ponytail, accenting her cheekbones. Lips that looked soft and warm.

The simple ponytail and the youthful freckles across the bridge of her nose didn’t take away from her natural elegance. She wore no makeup, her skin slightly pink as if she’d just washed her face.

He’d read in the file a couple of hours ago that she was a former ballerina, but he didn’t need that knowledge to see she was an athlete. Despite the early end to her career, she was slender and fit, her arms toned, her body lithe. It was easy to see that she had a dancer’s body beneath the simple jeans and black sweater with little pearl buttons.

According to Jerry’s notes, she’d been referred to as the “Angel of New York” and had been at the height of her career when things had gone very wrong for her.

At the same time he assessed her, thoughts hit him, crazy thoughts. Of kissing this angel’s soft lips … of his hands caressing the sensual lines of her body.

Well, damn. It was too soon after his breakup with Nyx to start feeling this way about another woman. Not to mention the fact he wasn’t there for any kind of social reason.

Tension crowded the air around them. The movement of her throat caught his attention as she swallowed. When he met her gaze again he saw recognition—recognition that something was passing between them and it wasn’t one-sided.

“This way, Detective.” Keri’s voice was low, throaty, like Kathleen Turner’s in that old movie, Romancing the Stone. Sexy as hell.

Adam gave a nod and shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn brown leather bomber jacket as she shut the door and led him past a set of stairs, down a short hallway, and into a living room.

The view he had as he walked behind her was spectacular. The most graceful walk he’d ever seen accompanied by gentle, elegant movements. Not to mention one hell of a nice ass.

She turned to face him. “Have a seat.”

He took the few steps necessary to make it to the love seat that she’d gestured to.

Cream-and-burgundy fabric covered the seat as well as the rest of the Queen Anne furnishings in the comfortable living room. He recognized the style of furniture thanks to his mother, who’d owned an antique shop. From the time he was just a kid until college, he’d worked at the shop during the summers as well as after school.

Adam sat on the edge of the love seat and waited for Keri to take the armchair across from him. When she was settled, he leaned forward, his forearms braced on his thighs.

“How did you find me?” she asked before he had a chance to speak.

“Through a friend who is former NYPD and now a private detective,” Adam said. “I would have eventually tracked you down, but she’s much faster than anyone on the police force.”

She nodded.

“Ms. Holliday—” he said.

“Keri.” She offered him a smile. “I’m a dance instructor and I get called Ms. Holliday all day as it is.”

He went straight for the bad news. He wasn’t into screwing around when it came to giving information like this. “I stopped by to let you know that this afternoon Edward Carter was released from prison.”

*   *   *

  Keri stared at Detective Boyd, her mind and heart having come to a complete standstill.