Unhinged by his White Heat (Unhinged Erotic Romance Series, Book 1)

Chapter 7

Oliver listened to Kema's animated voice, dread and shock zipping into his blood and multiplying throughout his entire body with every word that burst from her mouth.

What the...? What a maddening woman! He barked into the phone, "Stay there. Do nothing. I'm on my way."

Before she could reply, he cut the call. With his hair wet from the shower he had just taken, he dialed his friend, Tola, one of the plainclothes detectives assigned to the Peter Inyang case. He explained the problem, clasping the phone to his ear and using the other hand to hold out a pair of cargo pants, poking one leg in and nearly toppling over.

Oliver cursed.

Fortunately Tola understood the urgency. He would be there in five minutes.

By the time Oliver had managed to put on some clothes, and conscripted his housekeeper who lived downstairs to watch Lisa, Tola had arrived. With four armed police officers. Excellent.

He passed on to his friend the address Kema had given him and they leaped into their cars and tore out, in a convoy, the five police men in a Honda CRV with Oliver following in his Toyota jeep.

Oliver drove like a patient from a mental institution—on speed. How could she do this? How could she endanger her life in this way? He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. He wanted to grab her and continue exploring that delicious mouth before tracing a path of fire over that honeyed skin with his tongue.

About twenty minutes later, the policemen's jeep swung into a street and decelerated. Behind them, Oliver eased his foot off the accelerator. This must be the area.

He stared ahead, through the gloom. His headlights bounced off cars parked on the left hand side of the road. A black-and-white cat jumped down from the wall of one house and darted off into the bushes. A petite black-clothed woman marched back and forth, beside a white car.

Yes! Kema... at last.

Oliver switched off his car engine and sprinted out of the car.

Kema saw the vehicles zoom into the street. The first one slowed, the other jerked to a stop. Someone bounded out of the second one and rushed toward her.

With the light spewing from the car enveloping him, she noticed his hair, radiating black and hugging his head, his flaming eyes, his lithe body hurtling forward and when he reached her, he seized her upper arms and forced her to his chest.

Automatically, she sniffed him.

Yum. Lemony, citrusy, whatever...wonderful.

A wave of such sweet relief flooded through Oliver that he shut his eyes for a moment. Thank God she was okay.

His eyes sprung open and his forehead rumpled. "What do you think you're doing, Kema?" He gave her a little shake.

She tore her eyes away from his mouth to glare into his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"How could you do something so-so—"

She scanned his face, picked up on the strain he was fighting to conceal, and remembered that his hair appeared wet. He must have rushed out of the shower just to be here. She had called for his help and he had appeared, ready to assist her.

Wow.

Kema lifted a hand to push back a stray lock of his hair. He wrenched his head away and dropped his hands from her arms.

"Look, Kema. You shouldn't have done this. You should have called me earlier and I would have gotten someone to track them."

"Come on, Oliver. I saw an opportunity and I took it."