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She cuts me off, "NCIC."

"You're in NCIC?"

Yep, she's totally gloating now. And I'm hard as a rock.

"We've tried again and again to get into the National Crime Information Center." I shake my head, thinking about all the bribes I've given out over the years to get information from someone with access to it.

"You didn't try marrying a judge's daughter." She smiles up at me, and my breath stops.

"Fuck, Scarlet, I love you."

"Love you, too; now, let me concentrate." She taps away at the keys.

All my anger from earlier has evaporated. Instead, there is only a sense of peace and… yeah, love. Scarlet is the most amazing, brave, interesting, strong-willed, intelligent woman I've ever met. And she's beautiful. And mine!

"I think I fell for you from the moment I laid eyes on you," I confess.

She holds out her arms. I don't need another invitation. I pull her against me and seal our admissions with a deep kiss. One that she breaks first.

"Can we have a romantic dinner tonight to celebrate?"

I can't suppress my grin, sensing where she's going.

"Because right now, you said this is time sensitive?"

The thought that this incredible creature is mine swells my chest. My cock is hard as a rock, and the need to reclaim what's mine is strong, but she's right. Timing is everything. And this is not the time to bend her over the desk, no matter how great the temptation.

"Do you have a printer?" Her question grounds me enough to compose myself.

I point to the bookshelf where a state-of-the-art printer is stationed.

She prints the list of names of the hotel employees.

Anticipating what she wants, I walk to the printer and bring the ten sheets to her.

She starts typing in the first name.

"What are you trying to find?"

"Well, whoever killed that juror must have a criminal record," she mumbles with a pen between her teeth.

"What makes you think that?" I crease my eyebrows, not following.

She sends a duh look at me, making me chuckle. Nobody has ever duh-ed me before, nobody would dare, because they would find themselves six feet under. Not my fearless Scarlet, though; she knows I would never hurt her. I'd swallow a grenade before that happens.

"People don't just kill people," she lectures me. "I mean, I don't think I could just go and stab someone, even if… I was told my dad's life was at stake."

"What about mine?" I challenge.

She thinks it over. "Okay, so you might have a point. I might stab someone if your life was at stake, but," she holds up a finger before I can enjoy my win, "I might stab someone, once, maybe twice, but not…" she changes tabs and reads through the article, "… eight times." She shakes her head. "No way."

She holds up a second finger, leaving me completely mesmerized by her logic. "Two, I would be a mess afterward. I mean, I'd be covered in blood from head to toe, right?"

I nod because I want to see how far her analytical mind will take her. I've already considered her points, but I lacked the ability to get into NCIC. She's also raising some interestingcivilianpoints—a new perspective for me.

"Even if I wasn't caughtred-handed,so to speak, the likelihood of my spilling who ordered me to do this is far greater than for an experienced criminal, wouldn't you say?"

"It's refreshing to have the viewpoint of a non-criminal." I compliment.