Silhouette Intimate Moments 1056
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"If you didn't want my advice why'd you bother to look me up?"

"Come off it, Jo. You know why. I've never been able to talk to anyone but you about it. Where else would I go?"

"You managed it once!"

"Yeah," Maggie placed her arms on the table, her elbow accidentally hitting her wine glass. She heard it skitter across the laminated top, but if a crash came she blanked it out as unimportant. "And only just lived to tell the tale. Look what happened!" Look what they did to me! "I won't let it happen again!" I can't.

"Is this a private argument or can anyone join in?"

Maggie looked up, startled by the resonant deep voice. Immediately, she went into denial. "We weren't arguing." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jo smile at the new arrival. Someone special?

"Max, I didn't think you'd be here this evening." Delight rang in Jo's voice. "I thought you were pulling an all-nighter. Come and join us."

So this was Max. Detective Sergeant Max Strachan to be precise. Jo's boss. The man she'd been pressing Maggie to speak to.

"Never spilled a drop. Neat trick. You'll have to show me how to do it." A large hand, slim fingered with blunt tips, set the glass it had caught back on the table. All she could see was his hand with its sprinkling of dark hair as the lights behind him captured all but his silhouette, making his features invisible.

"It's not something you can learn overnight. I've had years of practice," Maggie said, watching him hook the leg of a chair from the table next to theirs with a large black-shod foot.

She flinched as the chair scraped across the tiled floor and he pulled it up to their table. His gabardine-covered thigh brushed a coating of cold night air across her nylon-clad knees as he sat down between her and Jo. At the same time the sear of heat from the hard-muscled flesh molding the soft cloth made her ache to pull away. But that would be too obvious.

Wide shoulders blocked the rest of the bar from view as he settled into his chair, giving Maggie the uneasy feeling of being trapped. He could easily be six-five. Built like a brick outhouse. A man who would make male offenders shake in their shoes and female ones want to get down and slobber over his size twelve's. A man to avoid. And as soon as she could Maggie aimed to do just that.