He smiled again.
It seemed he couldn’t help himself, and a dimple flashed from his cheek. “I’ve
made you nervous.”
“No,” she lied,
“but you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t think we’ve met.” “Not formally.”
Not at all. No way
she would have forgotten him.
“I’m Detective
Santo Castillo,” he said, and Roxanne released her breath on a soft whoosh.
Okay, so not a
stalker. That was good news. But Reece guessing he was a cop and then freaking
out about it . . . not so great. Not when it made her think her brother must be
guilty of something.
The detective
leaned across the table and handed her his badge.
Wary, Roxanne
studied the medal and verified that the picture matched the man before giving
it back. But a bad feeling settled around her. Just like the damn stain, it
began to spread. She glanced up again before she could stop herself. As if to
confirm a relationship, the stain had grown bigger and somehow more
threatening.
She swallowed and
forced her attention back to Santo Castillo. His glass was almost empty.
“Drinking on the job, Detective?” she asked, nodding at it.
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