I could smell the sweet jasmine perfume of my favorite coworker and mentor, Mona Hollister, several steps before I found her sitting at her desk, her long pink fingernails clacking away on her laptop keyboard as she talked on the phone.

  She smiled at the latte I set in front of her and blew me a silent kiss.

  Ray Underhill, the jackass who brayed and kicked at me hourly from the desk next to mine, wasn’t in yet, thank God. We’d have to save our daily glare-down for later.

  I dropped my tote on my desk after digging out my cell phone, left my sunglasses in place, and carried the remaining two lattes out through the front glass door.

  Doc’s office shared a wall with Calamity Jane Realty, a wall that I had pressed my ear to more times than I’d like to admit. Jealousy wasn’t a pretty sight, and on me it looked like Medusa with bed head.

  After a glance up and down the street, making sure my best friend, Natalie Beals, wasn’t around to see me, I pushed through the door into Doc’s office. The subtle scent of his woodsy cologne reached in through my sinuses and tickled my libido.

  Doc looked up from the book he was reading, his dark chocolate eyes unreadable as I placed a coffee on the desk in front of him.

  I pretty much fell into the seat opposite him. Spending the morning disco-ing with Cooper’s dead guy in the Mudder boys’ basement had taken a toll on me, making everything south of my neck a little wobbly.

  Being around Doc had a similar unsteadying effect on my limbs. The guy had my number. Hell, he had my whole roll of numbers, including the queue-generating machine that spat them out. It was no wonder that Natalie had it in her head that Doc had her number, too—and that she stood at the front of the line.

  “I have a problem,” I said, jumping right into the fire.

  Doc’s eyelids narrowed. “You hung up on me last night.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Right in the middle of detailing the slinky satin nightgown you were barely wearing.”

  Which had really been an old pair of boxer shorts and an Elvis T-shirt, but Doc didn’t need to know the finer details of my nightly ensembles. “Right.”

  “And you never called back.”

  “There’s an explanation for that.”

  He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m all ears.”

  “You mean about last night?”

  “To start with.”

  “Natalie needed to use the bathroom.”

  “You were in the bathroom?” At my nod, he asked, “In the tub?”

  More like on the floor next to it. “Sure.”

  “Why do you lie to me when I can clearly see your nose twitching?”

  Damned tell-tale appendage. I frowned and covered it.

  “What’s with the sunglasses, Marilyn Monroe?”

  “It’s bright in here,” I lied from behind my hand.

  He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk, his gaze traveling down the v-neck of my dress and settling on the big twisted knot at my sternum.

  “Great dress.” He stared as if I were lying naked on a bear skin rug. “You didn’t answer my question last night.”

  Lowering my hand, I frowned at him. “I did—you asked if I was wearing any underwear.”

  “Not that question. The one about when I could see you next.”

  Oh, that one. That was part of my bigger problem, the one that had brought me here. I tried to ease into my answer. “You’re seeing me now.”

  “I want to see more of you.” The heat sizzling in his gaze when it crawled back up to mine made my upper lip sweat. “Preferably in my bed, but I’ll settle for wherever I can get you alone.”

  I had to change the subject before I hurdled his desk, tackled him, and tore off his navy blue dress shirt with my teeth. “Detective Cooper told me this morning that I’m a person of interest in the headless corpse murder case.”

  To Doc’s credit, he adjusted to this conversation shift with merely a tightening of his lips. “You were at the police station already today? That must be a record for you.”

  “No, Cooper had me meet him at Mudder Brothers.”

  His forehead furrowed. “Why there?”

  “To try to identify the victim.”

  “You were looking at a decapitated body this morning?”

  I nodded. And dead guy’s family jewels, minus one precious stone, according to Harvey.

  Doc’s jaw grew rigid. “Why in the hell did Cooper make you do that?”

  “Because the victim had my business card in his hand.”

  “I know. I was there when you got the call, remember?”

  I grinned. Of course I remembered. We’d been half- naked at the time.

  Doc continued, “I’m referring to your current mental state.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my current mental state.”

  “Still having those nightmares every night?”

  Yes, in spite of Natalie playing slumber party with me ever since the Carhart mess almost a week ago when my client and her Bronco-burning girlfriend tried to subject me to demon copulation. When that plan failed, they’d settled with trying to gut me like a pumpkin. Such experiences tended to have a lasting effect on one’s nerves.

  I opened my mouth to deny the nightmares, but Doc cut me off. “The truth, Violet. You promised me.”

  Oh, fahrvergnügen! That was right. While we hadn’t locked pinkies over it, if I wanted Doc to come clean with me about everything under the sun on a regular basis, I needed to do the same.

  “Okay, so I’m having a few not-so-good dreams at night.” When I actually slept, anyway.

  “Admitting that was like pulling teeth for you, wasn’t it?”

  Speaking of choppers, “Cooper also took the teeth.”

  “You mean that box you found in the Carhart attic?”

  At my request for some ancient history on the house for a ghost-loving potential buyer, I’d been allowed to take a box from the Carhart’s supposedly haunted attic that contained several historical artifacts, including a box of 187 human canine teeth. Who would have collected all of those teeth and why they stockpiled them was still a mystery, but now it was Cooper’s problem to solve, not mine.

  “Yeah, that one. Cooper heard about it from Wanda,” I said, referring to the Carhart widow and only member of the family not dead or locked up in prison for murder.

  “How did Wanda know about them?” Doc asked.

  “Prudence told her.”

  “Prudence, the Carhart ghost?”

  I nodded.

  “But I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

  Until lately, that had been true, unlike Doc, who claimed to have some sixth sense that allowed him to sniff out Casper from across a room. I’d played skeptic when Doc first fessed up to this after an encounter that knocked him on his ass, but after witnessing multiple confrontations and similar reactions from a feet-firmly-on-the-ground type of guy, the jury was now locked away in deliberations.

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Doc. But I did believe Cooper when he threatened to lock me up if I didn’t hand those teeth over.”

  “He’s not cutting you any slack is he?”

  “Cutting slack is against his religion.” I crossed one of my legs over the other, smoothing my dress on my thighs, remembering Cooper’s parting shot earlier. “He also said I have a big nose.”

  Doc looked up from my legs. “He’s right.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Metaphorically speaking, that is. But that doesn’t mean he has to be so rough on you.”

  “I think Cooper enjoys roughing me up.”

  “That’s what concerns me.”

  “Because of my current mental state?”

  “No, Violet, because I like you.” Rising from his chair, Doc walked over to the plate glass windows that faced the street. “What I don’t like is the detective making you look at decapitated bodies in the basement of a funeral parlor first thing in the morning when your hand shakes just holding your latte.”

  “I’m not shaking.” I placed the plastic cup and my cell phone on his desk.

  “Okay, when your hand trembles.” He lowered the blinds on both big windows, shading the room. “Better?”

  I nodded, but didn’t remove my sunglasses. “It was no big deal. Harvey was there with me.”

  “Having your self-appointed bodyguard on site doesn’t change the fact that for most people examining a dead body is a bit stressful.” Doc moved to the door, dead-bolting it. “And most people haven’t witnessed death up close and personal like you have twice now within a month’s time.” He flipped his Open sign to Closed. “What else did Cooper have to say?”

  “He wants me to keep my nose out of his case.”

  “Great idea. You’re going to listen to the detective, right?”

  “Sure.” No lie there. I had other things to figure out, such as what my coworker, Ray the asshole, and the Mudder brothers were up to on the sly. Playing Nancy Drew regarding a decapitated body was low on my list of to-dos.

  “Why do I feel like you’re just feeding me a line of bullshit?” he asked, holding out his hand, which I took without thinking.

  “I’m serious.”

  He pulled me to my feet, then released my hand and stepped back, sitting on the edge of his desk.

  “I don’t know why the dead guy had my card, nor do I care.”

  Well, I cared a little since the corpse had ended up on Harvey’s ranch, which I was trying to sell, but not enough to get involved. I was happy to stand back and let Cooper do his job on this one.

  “Doc, what are you doing?” I asked when he made a circle motion with his index finger.

  “Turn around, Boots.”

  The nickname he used for me whenever he wanted more than just conversation shot shivers up my legs and down my back. Doc had a thing for my purple cowboy boots ever since the first time I’d dug my boot heels into his bared flesh and held on tight while he rocked my world.

  I lowered my eyelids a little, trying to look all sexy, then remembered that I had my sunglasses on. “Why?”

  “Just humor me.”

  I did as told, adding a little sashay with my hips as I obeyed his command.

  He whistled under his breath. “Damn, those sandal straps wrapping around like that make me want to lick your ankles. Turn all the way around.”

  I faced him again.

  He shook his head. “That is one hell of a dress.”

  I’d hoped he’d like it when I picked it out the other night at the mall down in Rapid City. I’d lied and told Natalie the dress was to snare clients, avoiding her eyes in the dressing room mirror. But my Aunt Zoe had taken one look at the flirty dress and the way it hugged my chest and smiled at me. She knew which “client” I was trying to snare.

  “You like it?” I adjusted the form-fitting bodice, using the twisted knot to shift the thin cloth over my breasts.

  Doc watched without blinking. “I’ve been wanting to tear it off of you since you waltzed through my front door.”

  The images his words conjured stole the breath I needed for a response, so I just grinned like a big idiot.

  “Take off your sunglasses.”

  I hesitated, not wanting him to see the interstate map lining my eyeballs.

  He reached out and pulled them off for me, setting them on his desk next to my drink and cell phone. His forehead furrowed when he looked at my eyes. “Another Visine morning, I see.”

  “You know how it is, too much rock star partying every night.”

  His gaze inched toward my bellybutton, leaving a scorched trail all the way down. “I want to touch you, Boots.”

  What a coincidence. “I want you to touch me, Doc.”

  He rubbed his palms together slowly. “If I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

  I gulped, my body trembling now for a whole different reason. “If you start, I’ll definitely want you to finish.”

  My need for Doc overshadowed all logical reasons why we should not be having sex at eight a.m. on a Friday morning in downtown Deadwood. My worries about getting caught by Natalie faded. My up-in-the-night anxiety about this wildfire of a crush I had for Doc suddenly seemed trivial. I stood there, waiting, wanting, willing him to touch me.

  My cell phone rang.

  Of course it did.

  “That’s Mona,” I said, able to tell by the Bach ringtone I’d programmed in for her.

  “You should probably get that,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  He groaned and handed me my phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Vi,” Mona said. “Where are you?”

  “Next door at Doc’s, why?”

  “Natalie is here looking for you. Want me to send her over?”

  “No!” That came out too sharp. I mellowed my tone. “Um, just tell her to stay put. I’m on my way back over.”

  “’Kay. Say ‘hello’ to Doc for me.”

  I’d rather have wild and freaky sex with him on his desk. “Will do,” I said and hit the end button.

  Doc was staring at my dress as if it were see-through.

  “I have to go, Doc.”

  “I know.”

  “I have a problem.”

  “I do, too, thanks to that dress. It’s going to ache like hell when you leave.”

  I clasped my hands together to keep from touching him, just in case Natalie decided to step outside and peek in at us. “Natalie has appointed herself my guardian angel.”

  His gaze met mine. “What does that mean?”

  “She’s staying over at Aunt Zoe’s with me 24/7.”

  “Which means you haven’t told her about us?”

  I avoided the accusation in his eyes. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Which also means I can only touch you behind closed doors and drawn shades.”

  “Exactly. Whenever I can shake her from my tail, that is.” Which hadn’t been easy over the last few days.

  “What about after she goes to sleep?”

  “She’s occupying the other half of my bed.”

  “Damn it, Violet.”

  “I know.”

  “Would you just tell her the truth already?”

  “I’m working up to it.”

  He pushed off the desk and strode over to the door, unlocking and holding it open. “You’d better get over there.”

  Shoving my sunglasses onto my face, I grabbed my drink and made my exit. “I’ll call you later.”

  He caught my arm as I passed in front of him, halting me. “Violet.”

  I lifted my brows.

  “Tell her.”

  “I will. I promise.” As soon as the time was right.

  His grip on my arm turned into a caress before he released it. “And keep your little nose out of trouble.”

  “Always.”

  His “Right” followed me out into the sunshine.

  Inside Calamity Jane Realty, Natalie sat in the chair opposite my desk with her long tanned legs stretched out in front of her. The cast encasing her lower right leg was covered with graffiti drawn by my children—hearts, ice cream cones, and stick chickens from Addy; a diagrammed horse’s skull thanks to Layne. Mona was nowhere to be seen, her usual jasmine calling card overrun by the scent of Natalie’s coconut suntan lotion.

  “How’s Doc looking this morning?” Natalie asked as I set my latte down next to my keyboard.

  The question sounded casual enough, but my cheeks heated, anyway, being that I’d been next door attempting to seduce the man of her dreams. “Same as usual.”

  “Hot and drool-inducing then,” she said, making a gurgling, purr-like noise in her throat.

  “Is that supposed to sound sexy?” I forced a crooked grin, trying to joke my way off the subject of Doc. “You sound like you’re choking a cat.”

  She grinned back. “Better a cat than ‘the chicken.’”

  “Oh, tacky. Kiss your momma with that mouth?”

  “Said the kettle. You taught me everything I know.”

  “Where’s Mona?” I asked.

  “Gone. She said to tell you she has an appointment with a client up in Lead. You can reach her on her cell phone.” Just when I thought I’d sidestepped the Doc-noose, Natalie said, “So, you’re still taking Doc coffee each morning?”

  “Yeah.” Which was a nice, seemingly platonic way to spend time with him right under her nose. As piece-of-shit best friends went, I drew the most flies in all of the land. “I feel like I owe him a month’s worth as thanks for taking a chance on a new Realtor.”

  “Did he say anything about your outfit?”

  I lowered my eyes, unable to hold her gaze even through my sunglasses while guilt chewed a hole in my gut. “Not really, why?”

  Natalie shrugged. “I’m just wondering if his lack of interest in females extends to blondes, as well as brunettes.” She patted her brown locks. “Maybe if I dyed my hair red like his ex-girlfriend, he’d start treating me like more than just a paying client.”

  I didn’t want to think about Doc and his Jessica Rabbit-like ex, Tiffany, who also happened to be a real estate agent in Spearfish—talk about small freaking world. Just thinking about Miss Redhead made me want to do very bad things to innocent bunnies. “Doc and I maintain a professional relationship.” In public.

  “It’s cool that you two are still friends now that the house deal is done.”

  “He’s easy to be around.” And I was embarrassingly “easy” when he was around. Crack whores probably played harder to get than I did.

  Natalie’s chair creaked as she leaned forward and took a sip of my caramel latte. “I didn’t think Doc was there this morning. His blinds were closed when I drove by.”

  Whew! That was close. Had Natalie been able to see inside, she’d have caught him holding my hand. “I asked him to keep it shaded because of my eyes.”

  “Still burning?”

  “Big time.”

  “Nightmares or more insomnia?”

  No use trying to hide anything from her, not with her sleeping a couple of feet away from me every night. “A little bit of both.”

  “Let me see.”

  I flashed her a peek at my red-lined peepers.