Although her frame was small, with narrow hips and wasp-like waist, her legs, as they say, went all the way up. She wore a pair of black trousers that hugged her hips and thighs tight, showing off some of her best assets. A white knit sweater clung to every curve of her upper body. And there were ample curves.
That red hair and those emerald eyes were set perfectly against the backdrop of black and white. Deep emerald eyes. He knew. He stared into them a mite too long earlier.
Mike Lehmann's heart pounded as he sat in the patrol car parked next to the school playground and examined every inch of Kate Carpenter's body while she crossed the schoolyard. His breathing deepened as he took in every movement, every hitch in her step, every expression on her face. He scowled. When he looked at her, his brain raced with thoughts of how physically attractive he found her, and how he could be incredibly interested in her—if things were different.
But things weren’t different.
Clearing up the mystery of Rob Carpenter's murder was the goal—not romancing the object of his investigation. Sure, he never thought he'd end up undercover in Carpenter’s wife’s classroom, but here he was, posing as a D.A.R.E officer to get into her life.
Somewhat.
But not in her panties.
Still, he never expected the woman to be a beautiful redhead who caused his pulse to quicken the first instant his gaze caught hers. But she was. It was all he could do, not to imagine that halo of flame unleashed from its single braid, fanning out around her on a pillow.
His pillow.
Damn. Forget it Lehmann. This you don’t need. Not now.
He watched her round the corner of the school building. His pulse raced, unable to keep his mind from wondering how her lips would feel pressed against his. How soft she was. How passionate.
And how the hell Rob Carpenter could screw over a woman like that.
Maybe Jenkins was right. Maybe Kate Carpenter's image of the widowed school marm, prim and proper, was a hoax.
“You could have made this a lot easier, lady,” he mumbled, “if you were about a hundred pounds heavier and a foot shorter. Maybe about fifteen years older. With bad teeth.”
But the fact remained, she wasn't. She was a beautiful young woman. One he hoped wasn't mixed up in the hottest drug-running operation to hit this area in years. One he hoped to hell was not hiding away a husband who was supposed to be dead.
He watched Kate Carpenter walk toward the older kid leaning against the side of the brick building and call out to him.
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