The Profiler (22 page)

He shrugged in response and took a sip of his drink. She leaned back into the cedar-colored, studded-leather booth and concentrated on soaking up the ambience of the dimly lit bar located in the basement of one of Sydney’s oldest hotels.

She’d suggested the bar because it was a place that never failed to relax her. Discreet lighting glowed dully off the dark mahogany wall paneling, encompassing them in a quiet intimacy. The bar’s elegant furnishings, soft, easy listening music and air of sophistication made it popular with older professionals.

She much preferred it to the noisy city bars downtown that overflowed with loud bands and raucous young people who, in her eyes, looked barely legal.

She frowned. God, she must be getting old. If she’d started thinking of anyone over the age of eighteen as young and was avoiding the crowds and loud music she’d once embraced wholeheartedly, it wouldn’t be long and she’d be applying for the pension.

She gave a quick shake of her head.
Get over it, Cooper. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Yeah, it had been a shit of a day. Shit of a month, really. Thank God it was nearly over. For the past three years, she’d struggled through the month of July. It was the month when she had to suffer through the anniversary of Jamie’s death and now a madman had chosen the western suburbs as his playing field.

But, although she wouldn’t have believed it three years ago, the pain from her son’s memory had eased infinitesimally. She grimaced. Well, until the discovery of the toddler in Penrith Lakes, which had brought the horror of it back in clanging, banging Technicolor.

But they’d just gotten their first real break on the case and now she was sitting in a booth across from the hottest guy she’d ever known, with nothing but a tiny wooden table between them.

She casually lifted her glass and let her gaze wander over him. Using the straw, she took a sip of water and then sat the glass back down on the table. Despite the fact that he’d been at work all day, his shirt remained blindingly white and unrumpled. A perfectly knotted maroon and gray tie lay straight against the broad expanse of his chest.

He’d shrugged off his dark navy suit jacket as they’d walked in and had hung it over the back of a nearby chair before taking a seat across from her. A sexy, five-o’clock shadow darkened the chiseled line of his jaw.

Realizing she’d been staring, Ellie turned her head abruptly and took another sip of the icy cold water. The straw gurgled loudly and she blushed. Clayton grinned, his straight, even teeth showing white in the dimness.

“Would you like another? I’m pretty sure they’re still making it.”

Her blush deepened and she was once again thankful for the discreet lighting. Ignoring his quip, she took refuge in the case.

“When will we know if we get a hit?”

His eyes were full of knowing, but he didn’t pursue it. Instead, he sat forward and took another sip of his scotch.

“Sometime tonight, with a bit of luck.” He swirled the ice in his glass. “Let’s hope they come up with a name.”

Her lips tightened in response as her thoughts returned to the DNA they’d recovered from Angelina Caruso, and hadn’t matched. “Yeah, that would be a good start.”

He finished his drink and sat the glass on the table. The silence between them lengthened. She felt the warmth of his gaze upon her and her heart picked up its pace.

“Tell me about yourself, Ellie.”

The invitation was murmured softly, politely. A request, not a demand.

Still, she froze. Her past was her past. She didn’t share it with anyone. That’s how it had always been. That’s how she wanted it.

Wasn’t it?

Then why did she suddenly feel an almost overwhelming urge to confide in him? To finally let someone else know about her pain?

She moved her empty glass aimlessly back and forth across the table in front of her, staring blindly at the wet circle of condensation as it stretched and lengthened. His gaze continued to probe, gentle but insistent.

Her tongue darted out to swipe at the moisture on her lip. A strand of hair had worked its way loose from the short ponytail she’d scraped together in the bathroom at work. She pushed it back behind her ear. She searched for courage and came up empty. Sighing inwardly, she feigned a smile as cowardice won out.

“Hey, nothing much to tell. I was born in Sydney. Royal North Shore Hospital, to be precise. My parents have a unit in the eastern suburbs at Point Piper. They retired a couple of years ago. They’re determined to visit as many cities across the world as they can.” She shrugged. “Last time I heard, they were in France.”

He leaned forward in his seat and rested his chin on his hands. His gaze encouraged her to continue. “What about brothers and sisters?”

A wave of repressed longing surged through her and she shook her head. “Nope, just me.”

His eyes widened in surprise. He leaned back against his chair. “Really? Wow, I always wondered what that would feel like.”

“I gather you have some?”

A wide grin followed. “Some? Yeah, I guess you could say that. How’s six sound?”

“
Six
?”

“Yep, four brothers and two sisters.”

She shook her head in amazement. “Wow, that must be fantastic?”

“Which could only be said by someone who’s an only child.” His voice was dry, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Hey,” she shrugged a little self-consciously. “I had to make mine up. There was my big brother Marcus and my little sister Daisy.” She grinned. “Don’t get me wrong. They were pretty good to have around. They never told me what to do; they never got me into trouble and I always got to be the princess.”

Sadness pricked at her eyes and she looked away. “But that’s not to say I didn’t always want a real one.”

“They’re not all they’re cut out to be, believe me. Not when there’s that many of them.”

Ellie braced her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.

“I bet you had the best time growing up.”

Clayton picked up his glass and tilted it to his mouth. The ice in his drink clinked. For a few moments, the only sound was the crunching of the ice between his teeth as he chewed.

Then he smiled. “Yeah, I guess I did. You never really appreciate things when you’re a kid. Hey, there are times even now when I wish they’d learn to mind their own business.”

“That’s not something I’ve ever had any experience with.” Her thoughts strayed to her parents and her gaze fell away. Through all of the turmoil and pain she’d experienced, first with Robert and then with Jamie, they’d never done more than offer to listen, and even then, they’d insisted it was only if she felt like talking.

She didn’t know whether she liked it that way, or not. Maybe if they’d been more forceful, more persistent, she’d have opened up a lot sooner and learned to let out her pain instead of bottling it up inside.

* * *

Clayton caught the brief flash of pain in her luminous eyes before it was concealed behind a curtain of dark lashes and wondered at it. He couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like growing up alone.

He thought of his twin and their recent telephone conversation. It was one of many similar conversations he’d endured from one or another of his siblings since Lisa’s death.

Granted, no one had said anything for the first couple of years. But lately, it seemed as if everyone managed to slip it into their conversation.

He frowned, irritation surging through him. It wasn’t as if he’d locked himself in a monastery, for Christ’s sake. He still dated occasionally. He’d asked Ellie out, hadn’t he? So what if she was a work colleague. It still counted, didn’t it?

His gaze rested on the woman opposite him. Ellie. Beautiful, feisty, tiny Ellie. Christ, he’d probably crush her if he took her in his arms.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually thought about it. Was still thinking about it. He’d worked with attractive women before. What was so special about this one?

His gaze wandered over her soft, full lips now coated in a plum-colored gloss. She must have re-touched her makeup before they’d left the station. He caught a glimpse of creamy flesh peeking out from the open neck of her tailored blouse—the deep shadow between her breasts intrigued him. The smell of her vanilla-scented perfume enticed his nostrils and all of a sudden, his head was full of her.

The night they’d gone out to dinner she’d nearly blown his mind with her sexy, curve-hugging dress. It was the first time he’d seen her wear one. The image of her crowded his dreams. He hadn’t managed a decent night’s sleep since. Morning would find the crisp hotel sheets tangled around him, his hand working his erection as he wondered what it would feel like to touch her.

His cock hardened in reaction to those memories and he frowned again, shaking his head and muttering condemnations under his breath. This was getting ridiculous.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad.”

Her gentle murmur penetrated his thoughts and he looked up. Wide green eyes were soft on his face.

“Sorry.” He grimaced and looked away, grateful for the protection of the table that hid the evidence of his desire.

“Tell me about them.”

He blew out a breath and raised his glass, forgetting for a moment that it was empty. His mind scrambled to pick up the threads of their conversation.

“My family? You want to know about my family?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure there must be plenty of stories to tell about four brothers and two sisters.”

He grimaced again, but it reluctantly fell away into a grin. “You don’t know what you’ve let yourself in for.”

She sat forward and her knees brushed his under the table. He ignored the heat that flared back to life in his groin and signaled the waiter.

“If we’re going to do this, I suggest we gird ourselves with another drink.” He gestured toward her empty water glass. “You might like to order something a little stronger than that.”

Her lips widened into a grin. “That bad, huh?”

He cocked an eyebrow, doing his best to act casual, despite the acceleration of his pulse.

“Oh, yeah. In fact, I’d probably make it a double.”

She laughed out loud and the sound of it went straight through him. His cock hardened almost painfully at the sheer sexiness of the sound. She may have looked delicate, but there was nothing slight about her throaty mirth.

The waiter appeared a few moments later, a notepad and pen in hand. Ellie ordered a glass of merlot and another scotch for him and then smiled her thanks. The young boy blushed and stammered. Clayton knew exactly how he felt. He couldn’t seem to get his fill of her. She intrigued him, engaged him, made him laugh. And she made his heart beat faster.

Which was a first. A first since Lisa.

“So, where do you fit in the family?” she asked when the boy had left with their order.

He drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Because, for someone who’s never had a sibling, it’s going to sound completely crazy.” He tugged at his tie and loosened the knot. “Hell, what am I saying? My family
is
completely crazy.”

Her eyes were fixed on his face. “And yet you love them.” It was a quiet statement of fact.

He turned serious. “Yes, you’re right. I do. For all their faults and failings, I’d do anything for them—as they would for me.”

“It must be nice to know they have your back.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Even my sisters—who whinge and bitch about me all the time and always side with each other against the boys—even they would be there for me if I needed them. I couldn’t think of life without them. All of them.”

Ellie sighed wistfully. “It sounds like you have an interesting family. You’re very lucky, even if they’re not perfect.”

“Yes, I am.” He stared at her, trying to delve into the shadows that had deepened her eyes to emerald. Reaching over, he covered her hand with his and took a deep breath. “Tell me about Jamie.”

* * *

Ellie gasped, snatching her hand away. Shock and anger surged through her. He
knew
.

“You
bastard
. How dare you pry into my personal life? You have no right! We
work
together, Munro. Nothing more. I don’t know what impression you got the other night, but I sure as hell—”

“Calm down, Ellie. You’re overreacting.” His gaze held hers. “I like you. I want to get to know you. That’s all.”

“That’s
all
? How can you say that?” She pushed back from the table and began a feverish hunt for the handbag she’d stowed on the floor near her feet.

“Please don’t leave, Ellie. What do you want me to say? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you couldn’t talk about it.”

She sat up abruptly, almost banging her head on the table in her haste and glared at him. “Upset? You call this upset? I’m not upset, Munro. I’m
furious
.”

Aware of the curious gazes of several nearby patrons, she forced herself to lower her voice. Her teeth clenched with the effort.

“How would you like it if I’d pried into
your
past? Discovered things you didn’t want anyone to know? Did you run a check on me through the database?”