Iris Johansen Read Free Page A

the Sheriff’s Department.”
    Santine was silent for a long moment, before a smile touched his lips. “No, I think not. Persistence like that shouldn’t go unrewarded. Tell Goldsmith to bring her to the library. I’ll see what the lady has to offer.”
    Dawson shrugged, and spoke rapidly into the phone. “He’ll bring her right over; it’ll only be a few moments,” he said as he replaced the receiver.
    “Where is she?” Santine asked idly. He was really in bad shape to become so intrigued by the appearanceof an ambitious little hooker who looked on him as her next target. But how in the hell had she gotten around those Dobermans?
    “Across the courtyard in the security office,” Dawson replied, watching curiously as Santine stood up and strolled lazily to the window overlooking the tiled courtyard. The floodlights had been turned on, giving a daylight clarity to the scene. Dawson also got to his feet and joined Santine at the window, his eyes on the three people rapidly approaching the house.
    “She’s quite tall,” he commented casually as he distinguished the feminine form between the two security guards.
    Santine’s gaze was also fixed absorbedly on the woman. “Yes,” he agreed absently. “But look at the way she moves. I’ve never seen a woman so graceful.”
    “You think she may be worth your time after all, then?” Dawson asked, his brow arched quizzically.
    There was a strange flicker in the depths of Santine’s black eyes as he said slowly, his gaze still on the woman’s khaki-clad form, “There’s a distinct possibility, Pat. There’s definitely a distinct possibility.”

Two
    “Thanks, Sal, you can go now. I’ll handle it from here,” the young man behind the desk said genially as he appraised Janna with frank curiosity. “When a decision is made in regard to the Sheriff’s Department, I’ll let you know.”
    The two burly security men nodded in respectful acquiescence and quietly left the room, and Janna took a step closer to the desk with an eagerness she couldn’t conceal. The quiet luxury of the library could be dimly discerned, illuminated as it was by just the one desk lamp; but surely she’d been taken to see Mr. Santine himself. Then she felt her hopes plummet as she got a better look at the man leaning lazily back in the executive chair.
    This couldn’t be Santine. Even though the security men were treating him with deference, there was no way the man behind the desk could be the ruthless legend that was Rafe Santine. There was nothing forceful or intimidating about this young man, with his modishly cut acorn-brown hair and appealing blue eyes. Had she gone through all this trouble just to be relegated to one of Santine’s underlings?
    “You’re not Mr. Santine,” Janna accused flatly, disappointment making her tone imperious. “I want to see Mr. Santine.”
    “And so you shall.” The deep voice was a curious blend of sandpaper on velvet and came from thedark shadows beside the long window at the far end of the room. “Let’s have some light on the subject, Pat. I want a better look at her.”
    “Right, Mr. Santine.” The blue-eyed man at the desk pressed a button on a console, and the room suddenly flared into light.
    Santine. Janna’s eyes widened as the man strolled toward them with casual grace not usually found in a man so large. She was vaguely conscious of thick dark hair worn a trifle long, a blunt, almost Slavic face, and eyes so black and piercing that they sent a shiver through her. But that wasn’t what caused her suddenly to catch her breath and experience an odd sensation of weakness. Santine radiated a power and virility that seemed to dominate his surroundings effortlessly. For the first time in her life, Janna felt a strange sense of being threatened by another human being.
    Threatened? Ridiculous! How could Santine be a threat to her? All he could do was say no to her pleas, and she would leave and never see him again. It must be the