Kissing the Key Witness

He angled his head in response, explored her mouth more thoroughly. Oh, yeah, definitely wine. Wild, forbidden, too tempting to resist. And Tal could resist a lot.

Only Maya had ever gotten past his formidable guard. Only Maya had the power to scare the living hell out of him.

Reason enough to stop kissing her, to back off and call it a mistake.

She slid her hands to his waist and drew his lower lip into her mouth before she rested her forehead against his.

The taste of her lingered. It took a huge effort to wrap his fingers around her upper arms, shield his expression and look into her eyes.

“You feel like you’re trespassing, don’t you?”

Her question surprised him. “Do I?”

“I think so. And you would have been once. But not now. Not for a very long time.”

“So why did you stop?”

She ran her finger over his lower lip, replaced it with her mouth. When she licked him, his brain, already overheated, turned to mush. “Pausing isn’t stopping.”

“Maya…”

The argument died. Later, when he was alone and half-sane, he’d be all over it, but for now, he simply wanted to cage his conscience and let the fantasy ride.

She kissed him this time, used her teeth, her lips, her tongue.

Greed set in, chased by hunger. He’d been hard before he touched her, and now she was touching him, running her hands over his jeans, frying every thought in his brain.

Blood pounded through him like a drum. He dragged her closer, heard her purr, felt her hips rub against him.

He’d have breathed if he could, but something other than air had gotten into his lungs. Something that punched through the snapping threads of his control.

Tal had no idea where things might have gone from there. However, drugged or not, he recognized the blast below them in an instant.

Maya tore her mouth free, whipped her eyes down. “Was that…?”

“Yeah, it was.” Shoving her behind him, Tal grabbed the backup from his waistband.

And searched the courtyard for the person who’d fired the gun.

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I swear. I took the safety off, like so. But there was a pain in my wrist. Then, oh no, the gun, it dropped, and kaboom. It went off.”

Maya’s neighbor, the man with the drawn shades, appealed primarily to her, although his nervous eyes kept flitting to Tal.

“Please, Dr. Santino.” Carl Ruiz adopted an attitude of prayer. “Tell the officer I didn’t mean to do it.”

“It’s all right, Carl.” Maya attempted to calm him. “Lieutenant Talbot knows you work as a security guard.”

“For six months,” the man put in. “I hit my hand on the counter yesterday and hurt the bone. I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble….”

Thirty minutes and several reassurances later, Maya and Tal left the man’s apartment and made their way back to the courtyard.

The people who’d reacted to the gunshot had returned to their tasks and chores, leaving the area empty.

Maya turned a curious half circle as she walked. “Where are my bodyguards? Please say they’re not skulking around Mr. Ruiz’s place, because I promise you, that man is not on Orlando Perine’s payroll.”