(Dr. Charlotte Stone #1) The Last Victim by Karen Robards

Author:Karen Robards [Robards, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Romance, Mystery
ISBN: 9780345535443
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2012-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kaminsky emerged from the bedroom looking confused. She held her gun in one hand, which was down by her side. An admission, via body language, that she’d been mistaken.

“There’s no one here.” She sounded like she hated having to say it. The look she shot Charlie was distrustful. Despite Kaminsky’s continual prickliness, Charlie almost felt sorry for her.

“No,” Charlie agreed, doing her best to keep her face expressionless. What could she do? Telling the truth wasn’t an option.

“I know what I saw.” Kaminsky looked at her hard.

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“If you snuck some guy up here for a sleepover—”

“I didn’t,” Charlie interrupted indignantly, her moment of feeling sorry for Kaminsky over. “Do you see a guy?”

“I did. I know I did.” Kaminsky grimaced and strode toward the door. “He must have gone somewhere else. Let me do a quick search of the house.”

“Isn’t the alarm on?” Charlie asked, with the aim of saving the other woman some effort. In fact, she knew the security alarm was on, because she had watched Kaminsky reset it after they had entered.

“Yes.” Kaminsky pulled open the door and walked out into the hall, where she glanced swiftly around. With one hand still on the knob, she looked back at Charlie. “Maybe he was already inside when we came in. Maybe … I don’t know. But I have to check.”

“I don’t think—” Charlie began.

“Lock this door. Stay put,” Kaminsky threw at her without waiting for Charlie to finish, and closed the door.

Charlie stared at the closed door for a second, concluded that there was nothing else she could do to discourage Kaminsky from wasting her time, and locked it.

Then she went in search of Garland.

He was in the bathroom. Naked. With his back to her, swiping in obvious frustration at one of the white bath towels hanging on the rack. If he was hoping to connect, he was out of luck: his hand passed right through it.

A quick, comprehensive glance was all it took to emblazon on Charlie’s memory forever the absolute eye candy of his broad shoulders, corded arms, powerful back, narrow hips, tight ass, and long, strong-looking legs. Muscles upon muscles rippled as he moved. His hair was wet, slicked back from his face, curling just a little on the ends. His tan looked golden in the bathroom’s bright light. Gorgeous wasn’t quite the right word—it was too feminine to do him justice—but it was the first one that sprang to Charlie’s mind.

Dangerous was the second.

“Why are you naked?” she whispered accusingly, mindful of Kaminsky out there searching the house.

“Why do you think? I just felt like stripping off.” He sounded angry. He turned to glare at her. His right biceps sported a tattoo, she saw: a cobra in green and black. But she saw that only in passing, because she was too busy getting a load of his full-frontal glory: wide, smooth pecs and a pronounced six-pack and …

Of course he would be totally hung.

Charlie jerked

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