Excerpt of Share the Darkness by Jill Monroe

WARD CASSIDY could think of better uses for an ice cube.

Although the way Hannah Garrett rolled the ice along her skin to cool the slope of her gorgeous neck still topped his list. He sucked in a breath as a droplet of water slowly ran past the inviting underside of her chin and slid down her throat, weaving a path along her collarbone and disappearing into the tantalizing area below.

Tantalizing because he hadn't thought of much else other than Hannah or her breasts since he'd gotten this awful assignment in the hottest place next to hell.

He liked his ice cold, and his women hot. And Hannah would make an ice cube melt in Siberia. Now she was lifting up her red curly hair and rubbing the cube on the back of her neck. Next to hell? He was in hell. Why'd his office have to face the break room?

The multiline telephone on his desk beeped an annoying jingle.Why couldn't phones just ring? The electronic chimelike sound literally tap-danced on his nerves.

Just then Hannah put the ice cube in her mouth and sucked. Desire shot through him as his mind conjured up images of those generous lips of hers surrounding him. His knuckles tightened around the cool plastic phone handle. But nothing could chill his white-hot arousal.

The phone chimed again, and he almost flung the damn thing across his desk. Whoever was daring to interrupt his stint as voyeur could take a train ride to hell. Or right here next to him in Gallem. The heat was probably about the same. He took a deep breath. Get it together.

Ward Cassidy, federal officer of the law, turned his chair with slow deliberation away from the break room where Hannah was perfecting her "cooling off" techniques.

Instead he concentrated on the view outside his window. He centered on the grass, parched just as he was. The office air conditioner couldn't chug out enough cold air to contend with the heat. He was acting a fool. Hannah was just a woman trying not to sizzle in the offices of Protter and Lane Investment Banking. And here he was taking his frustrations out on a poor defenseless telephone.

He lifted the handle before the damn thing could ring a third time, just barely remembering to use his cover name. "Coleman here."

A few clicks echoed in the background, and he immediately went on alert.

"We're on a secure line."

"I'll shut the door." Ward stood and closed the door, welcoming the barrier. A lot of good it did, a huge picture window still gave him a prime view of the break room.

He picked up the phone again. Ward recognized the voice of his friend and former partner at the Bureau. A few years ago, his colleague, Brett Haynes, was one of the best field agents. Now he was permanently desked after choosing the wife and family route over adventure and danger. Poor guy.

Good. Another person he could take his frustrations out on.

Ward resisted his urge to laugh out loud. "Why wouldn't the line be secure? The security around here is so lax any ten-year-old with low speed Internet access could hack into this place."

Brett's chuckle was loud and clear. In disgust, Ward angled his chair away from the window. Still his eyes once again drifted back to the break room. He gritted his teeth. Hannah hadn't left. Neither had the ice cube.

Although a human resources memo to employees had given permission to wear shorts in the office during the heat wave, Hannah's legs remained encased in pants. She didn't have a problem leaving her arms bare, though. She now ran the ice cube up the gentle curve of her bicep, then down the soft skin of her...

He knew her skin would be soft. He imagined his lips following such a path. Starting at her wrist, tracing his tongue on the delicate skin of her forearm, stopping only long enough to lick her inner elbow before...

I'm losing my mind. "You gotta pull me from this assignment."

"Can't. You really pissed off the boss lady with that stunt you pulled on your last case."

His lips twitched into a slow smile. "The bad guys are in prison, aren't they?"

"I think it's more like how they got there. Dragging two prisoners who've been hiding in the swampland of Louisiana for two weeks through Director James's office is not the best method for career advancement."

"She said I could never bring in the big ones. I wanted to show her that I could, to look good for the boss."

"Ha. You looked worse than they did. Forget it. You'll be in Gallem until this case is put to bed. Which shouldn't take too long with your skills. Any rookie could nail it."

Damn, why did he have to put it that way? When he thought nail, he only thought of...

Hannah was blotting her skin with a paper towel. Rubbing the thin paper along the column of her throat. He almost growled. He almost shouted at her to stop.

"I expect we'll be hitting the eighteenth hole by the end of the week."

"You'd be surprised. I've been thrown a few curves," Ward said.

"You? Nah. Actually, the reason why I called was to let you know the field office is sending me there for a check."

"No wife? No kid?"

"Just you, me and a beer."

Ward angled back in his chair as he watched Hannah ball the paper towel and lob it toward the trash can.

"Now, that's the best offer I've had in two weeks."

"The ladies of Gallem not lining up at your door? You must be losing your touch."

He spotted Hannah's slim, sexy form pass by the small window of his door. No friendly wave, no courtesy smile from one employee to another.Yeah, she didn't like him. For the first time today he felt a chill.

"Having a dry spell." The show was over. Ward sat straight in his chair, and checked out the employee files. "Is Grace hassling you about leaving? After all, that's why you took that desk job."

"It's just an overnighter, and I think she's actually looking forward to me being out of her hair for a bit."

"Great. Come by the office Saturday, and I'll introduce you to corporate hell." Ward replaced the receiver. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his black, spiral- bound notepad. Research telephone ring. He flipped the pad closed, and returned it to his pocket. Maybe he could find the phone's manufacturer on the Web tonight at his rental. Case or no case, some things had to come first.

He'd learned his lesson. He'd get this little situation solved, criminals would be deposited in jail cleanly, and he'd do what he could to get back on James's good side. He knew she couldn't hold a grudge against him for too long. After all she'd mentored him since he left the Marines to join the Bureau.

He knew he'd really pissed the top lady off, parading those men through her office. But was it worth this?

As the newly hired security chief at P&L, he had an office to himself. He didn't know who to thank for that small favor. Outside stood rows and rows of battered metal desks without a single cubicle divider. How could the bankers get anything done? At some point, the walls had been painted a hue between blue and green. Why, he could only guess.

The whole place buzzed with nonstop corporate team building. If he heard one more inspiring little snippet over the office speaker, he'd cut the wires himself. As if the framed motivational posters weren't bad enough.

The FBI had lucked out when Arvest Lane had created the security position in the Gallem office. Over the course of the last six months, someone had been manipulating government money through P&L. Straight into a nice little offshore account.

Uncle Sam didn't like people to steal his money. Neither did Ward. Finding the culprit wouldn't be difficult. Just very, very time consuming with lots of paperwork. Yeah, James really knew how to turn the screws.

A week ago, Ward moved into the position, and no one in P&L knew his real identity. For all intents and purposes, he was the security chief, with all the perks, including access to the employee files. He'd read through them a dozen times. Searching for clues.

Hannah's rested on top. He lifted her résumé with the tiny photo of her stapled to the corner. The grainy picture was not the best quality. But it didn't obscure her high cheekbones or the lushness of her full lips. Lips that made a man's mind wonder.

Despite her beauty, her eyes were what always drew him. He wouldn't call them cold, but a coolness lingered in the green depths. When hounded by the male employees, she was quick with a glare of irritation. That was the only emotion she ever revealed.

Yet Hannah's eyes gave her away. Something... guarded some deep pain tinged those haunting eyes of hers. He planned to ferret out all her secrets.

First things first, assess the current situation. He wanted her. And even though they'd rarely made eye contact, he sensed she was attracted to him, and that it bothered her. A lot. A swell of satisfaction infused his gut. He liked the idea of her experiencing the same kind of frustration he did.

"Knock, knock." Ward glanced up to see his office visitor. He never really trusted a man who said knock, knock rather than actually knocking. Dan Protter, the Protter of Protter and Lane, walked through the door.

Ward schooled his features, cloaking himself in the persona of Ward Coleman. His new boss more than likely expected a man in charge of security to look, well, secure. Ward did his best to live up to the man's expectations.

In fact, strutting around the office acting macho, fulfilled his own dreams of what a federal agent should be doing. That lonely Marine lying in his bunk all those years ago had no idea that a fed's life wasn't so much chasing the bad guy and getting the girls. It was more about tackling a pile of paperwork and wrestling it to the ground. And there would be paperwork to spare with this P&L investigation.

But those times he did chase the bad guy made up for it all. The girl never stuck around for long. An odd twinge of disappointment surprised him. Whether the emotion came from the women not staying or the fact that he cared little if they did, he didn't know. "TGIM, Ward." Dan handed Ward a coffee cup. "No cream, no sugar."

"Thanks." Ward never developed a liking for Mondays, or coffee, but he took a swig to satisfy Dan. He swallowed quickly. Coffee had about as much appeal to him as liquid dirt. Still, he did have a cover to keep, and this particular cover required him to act the tough guy. A guy who drank his coffee strong, preferably with the grounds still in.

Dan angled himself off Ward's desk. He sensed his new boss liked being around him. Ward's presence more than likely added a bit of danger in Dan's dully familiar world of investment banking. "I've gone over the new security measures you suggested," Dan said.

Though Ward's job was a means to an end, how could he leave here without implementing a few security procedures? He had standards, and leaving this particular job undone defied his sense of professionalism. Dan, and the rest of the investment firm, would luck out.