Legally Hot by Leigh, Lora (the best books to read TXT) 📕

Oh, God, he was watching.

“Not sure he’d risk coming here.”

Calm and cool as ever, Cody crossed the cluttered length of the old kitchen, then went to check the glass doors that led to the back yard. As he checked for the kind of stuff detectives always check for, he said, without looking up, “You’d be amazed how many cases crack open with the most stupid mistakes—criminals returning to the scene of the crime, that sort of thing.” He straightened and pulled a fistful of hair in apparent frustration, and when he let go, part of his hair remained standing up so adorably, making him look so handsome and irresistible, that she felt her fear begin to ebb away. “What I want to figure out is where this bastard’s hiding,” he admitted.

And what I’d like to figure out is what a girl needs to do to make you notice her.

His face was so virile, Cody would make the perfect Armani model. And with that killer tie, a solid, satiny, crimson one that brought out his tan, he could be on TV right now.

Oblivious to her thoughts, he walked to the bookshelf that used to contain the world’s largest collection of family photographs, and she wondered if Cody remembered the sounds of his mother’s cooking.

Megan did. The clang of the baking pans, the click click click of the oven timer. It could’ve been yesterday that she was here, playing Life with Cody and Ivan and even Mr. Nordstrom, while the Mrs. pulled out homemade Margarita pizza from the oven. Ivan hadn’t seemed happy here, nor had Mr. and Mrs. Nordstrom ever been proud of Ivan the way they had, clearly, been of Cody.

“Where would you hide, if you were him?” she asked as she watched him, loving the way his muscles bulged as he reached out and wiped the dust off the empty shelves.

His head came up, and the corners of his lips formed a barely-there smile. “Here.”

“Here?” she asked, shocked. “Really?” In this decrepit, smelly old house? Well, maybe he remembers the Life days, too.

“Yep. I’d hide right here.” He banged the wall with his fist. “Under everyone’s very own noses.”

She made a face and crossed her arms. “We could say Ivan’s got that pegged, too, you know. He was hiding in your home just hours ago, and something about the way he hesitated before approaching me made me think he hadn’t planned on me being there.”

Cody’s expression darkened; his entire face tightening with anger. “And then he saw you in your…”

“My purchases, why, yes!”

The nonchalance she tried injecting into her admission seemed to pass by him unnoticed, for Cody stared at her for a long, tense moment, his blue gaze dark and shuttered and so personal she felt the muscles of her legs turn buttery. He walked over to her, moving slow and sure, like a panther. His voice dropped a decibel.

“What where you doing there?”

The gruffly spoken question stroked her insides more than any seductive whisper.

His manly stance, his hot, possessive gaze, ignited her need and hunger until her throat hurt with the need to tell him how he made her feel.

Those beautiful blue eyes he stared at her with now had seen the same thing that haunted her nightmares. Those beautiful blue eyes were exactly like the killer’s, except she liked to think that she knew their small differences.

Cody’s lashes were longer, the tips blonder, and the way he used those eyes—to control, to intimidate, even to seduce—was a power his twin had never mastered.

Those eyes made her want to melt.

Now those eyes demanded she answer, but her pride would not allow her to admit the truth out loud.

“I already told you.”

Unsettled by his stare, she pivoted around and headed to the small study, crossing all the way to the back of the room, determined to pretend to be engrossed in the sight of her old home from the arched window. She was sure that a man like Cody—a cynic by nature and a detective by trade—did not buy her tale in the least.

But then again, maybe he did. Because he wanted to.

For years, Cody Nordstrom had been chasing killers.

His focus generally was aimed toward evil motivations, revenge and jealousy, the kind that inspired people to kill. He was not focused on the good emotions so much, like how and why someone sought out happiness and comfort. She was sure that if he had any inkling of how she felt for him, he would stop tormenting her and either buy a one-way ticket to Mars, or buy a roundtrip for two for their honeymoon. And yet, evidence pointed to the fact that he couldn’t see, didn’t realize that Megan wanted him … beyond bearing.

“You know,” she began tentatively, “I think Ivan was trying on your suits while hiding in your closet. That’s why the closet door burst open; there was some movement going on inside.”

Cody didn’t seem surprised, but he also seemed preoccupied.

Wondering what he wasn’t telling her, Megan went fishing for information. “You’d make lieutenant if you weren’t so blind to what’s right before you sometimes. I bet you hadn’t noticed he messed with your closet, huh?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Trust me, I noticed.”

She could tell by his amused tone that he knew he was being baited, and that he didn’t plan to fall any further than that.

Plus being that he was surveying the place like a hellhound, she suddenly felt a little stupid for telling him he was missing a point, because he was definitely being very thorough. But then hadn’t Paige said she needed to do something because he never would?

Yes, she had. So Megan let her top slip from one of her shoulders, low enough so that when she