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dealing with angry ex-cops, now ex-cons, who’d been accused of murder.
    The dog pranced around the desk and licked her right on the lips, then started sniffing her bacon-scented hair. Those footsteps moved closer still, and her mind raced right along with her heart.
    The deep masculine sound of a man clearing his throat came from behind her. “Nice view.”
    “Oh, I was just…” She looked back over her shoulder, praying she’d come up with a good excuse for being in this ridiculous position. But the moment her gaze landed on the clown, the only thing she came up with was a scream. A loud one.

CHAPTER THREE
    D IOS . T YLER WATCHED the shapely jeans-covered butt disappear around the desk. He did a side step so as not to lose the view and watched her crawling at an amazing speed toward the door. It wasn’t every day he found a woman on her hands and knees behind his desk. So he jumped into action and planted his clown feet in front of the door.
    The woman, long red hair hanging free and swishing around her arms, came to a dead stop about a foot from him. She raised her face. Her blue eyes, wide with what looked like panic, stared up at him. As soon as he got over the sheer terror he saw in her eyes, he realized the view from this side was just as nice as the one from her backside. Maybe even better. Her green scooped-neck T-shirt hung low, providing a nice view of her tan, lacy bra and ample breasts. Damn, she was hot.
    “Hello,” he said. Then, somehow sensing the costume might have something to do with her fear, he yanked off the wig and without meaning to, his gaze shot back to her bra, or rather at the size Cs that were close to falling out of it.
    Clearly seeing where his gaze had fallen, she slapped a hand to her chest. Balancing on one hand and two knees, she attempted to stand up. Apparently still shaken, she almost fell. He reached for her, but she lurched back. When she was finally on her feet, he summed up the package. Maybe five-four or-five in height, ample breasts, and a round ass.
    “Nice,” he said without meaning to. “… to meet you.”
    Alarm remained clear on her face—a face that would have been appealing if not for the fear. A face that stirred a slight flash of recognition, too.
    “Do I know you?” He ran his hand over his swollen and bloody knuckles.
    “I was…” She swallowed. “The… my purse hit it. I was…” She stopped jabbering and gazed at his injured hand.
    He stopped trying to make sense of her mumbo-jumbo and shrugged. “Had to teach someone a lesson.”
    She drew in a breath and stepped away from him as if thinking she might be next in line.
    “He deserved it.” He studied her face again. “Who are you?” And just like that, he remembered Dallas saying he’d hired a receptionist. He looked back at the stack of files on his desk, then at her.
    “My contact…” She slammed one eye closed. “My contact fell out.”
    “You’re the new receptionist,” he said, and let himself give her another glance up and down. “Nice… to meet you,” he said again, but sexy, hot, and stacked were the words that came to mind.
    Damn, he could kiss Dallas. She’d make a breathtaking addition to the office. Of course, it was going tobe hard to focus on anything but her. Hard being the key word. And a certain southern part of his anatomy had already twitched its approval. Which was a bit bothersome. He usually had better control. Thank goodness he had room in the costume.
    “I’m Tyler.” She didn’t answer, just stared.
    He frowned. “You don’t like clowns, do you?”
    “No.” She gasped, trying to get oxygen down her lungs.
    He hid his battered hand behind him. “Don’t worry, I’m a friendly clown. And I don’t run around in costumes all the time.” And he could get really friendly if she was so inclined. “My niece’s clown canceled and—”
    “Contact.” She blurted out again, as if she hadn’t been listening. Then she slammed her left eye shut and