As chief of police, Id have to say thats a brilliant course of action, Mrs. Fibbler. Brilliant.
The elderly lady bustled off down the sidewalk, a wide smile now beaming from her face, her shopping bag clutched to her chest. She turned back once and gave Ian a little wave and Ian returned the gesture with a weak smile.
Another damsel in distress rescued from certain danger, he murmured.
When hed moved back to Bonnett Harbor from Providence two years ago, hed never expected his social life to take such a hit. It had been easy to date in the city, the available women in endless supply. But here, everyone knew him. If he chose to date someone in town, the entire population knew the details within a day or two. The out-of-town affairs had been satisfying, though short-lived, since his work seemed to consume most of his free time. In the past year, hed dated three women for a grand total of thirteen weeks.
Hell, he could almost imagine himself as Mr. Cuddleston in a few years, fighting over garbage simply to get a womans attention. He looked up at the light as it turned red again, then tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient to get his coffee and escape before any other problems arose.
A small sports car pulled up beside him and he looked over at the Triumph Spitfire. Racing green, he mused. Ian had always appreciated vintage cars and this one was one of his favorites. He glanced at the driver, ready to nod his approval, but his breath caught in his throat and suddenly he felt as if hed been run over by a truck.
Her long dark hair whipped in the breeze, the sun shining on a perfect profile. She tipped her face up and it caught the light just right and Ian continued to hold his breath. She was beautiful. No, more than beautiful. He searched for the appropriate word, but hed never been much of a poet. Ravishing didnt seem to fit. Stunning wasnt descriptive enough. He swallowed hard. Breathtaking, he murmured to himself. It was the best he could do.
She wore a dress made of some fabric that clung to her body like a second skin. Tiny straps held it up, but the neckline dipped low, revealing the tops of perfect breasts. He craned his neck to look more closely, his gaze drifting down to where the dress revealed a long length of leg.
Ian glanced down at his lap, stunned to see hed become aroused. The woman continued to wait for the light to change. And then, as if shed felt his eyes upon her, she glanced over at him. They stared at each other for a long, intense moment and the air between them seemed to buzz and crackle, as if a lightning bolt had just struck the space between their cars.
She brushed her hair back from her face, then, slowly, lifted her sunglasses, the smile still twitching at her mouth. Her lips were painted deep red and her eyes were as dark as her hair and ringed with thick lashes. She pursed her lips slightly, as if to blow him a kiss, then let her glasses drop back down.
A moment later she was gone, the car speeding off down Harbor Street. At first, Ian wasnt sure what to do. Then he quickly read the license plate number, committing it to memory. He yanked the steering wheel to the left, determined to give chase and find an excuse for stopping her later. But he popped the clutch too quickly and the Mustang stalled. With a curse, he tried to start the car again. When it finally rumbled to life, she was gone.
As he pulled onto Main Street, Ian grabbed his cell phone and dialed the station. Sally, I need you to run a plate for me. Its a New York plate. T-B-7-8-4-1?
10-4, Boss, Sally said.
Pull her registration and get me a license, as well. Anything else you can find. Im on my way in.
Mr. Cuddleston called this morning. It seems he found his trash cans emptied on his front lawn. He wants you to charge Mrs. Fibbler with trespassing and vandalism.
I think Ive got that problem solved, Ian said. Just get me that information.
He drove the rest of the way to the station caught up in a fantasy about the woman hed just seen. Hed always played by the rules and just the thought of pulling her over for no good reason went completely against his grain. But she was different from the girls he usually found attractive, coy blondes with sexy bodies and healthy sexual appetites. Here was a woman who, while equally sexy, could only be calledexotic. His curiosity was piqued and that so rarely happened anymore.
Ian pulled the Mustang into the parking lot behind the station, then hopped out, his thoughts completely occupied with finding her. But as he turned to slam the car door, he stopped short, a dim memory from the previous night floating to the surface of his thoughts.
The celibacy pact. Oh, hell, he muttered. He shouldnt even be thinking about women, much less chasing one around town! Just last night, he and his brothers had made a pact to swear off women for the next three months. It had been a silly idea and Ian wasnt even sure why hed agreed to it. He probably wouldnt have if his love life hadnt been pure crap lately. But it was a serious promise, sworn by all three brothers on the gold medallion that had been a holy relic to them since their childhood days in Ireland.
Maybe the plan wasnt such a bad idea. If he stopped looking for the right woman, the right woman might come along. Not that the woman in the green Triumph was the right woman. From the look of her, she didnt belong in Bonnett Harboror in his bed.
Besides, he did have his reputation to protect. Though he was a healthy, thirty-one-year-old male, he might as well have been the town minister. Why couldnt the citizens of Bonnett Harbor understand he was just a regular guy who wore a uniform and badge to work? He wasnt always a paragon of integrity and honor. On occasion, he enjoyed being just a tiny bit badand sometimes, on occasion, there was a woman involved.
The interior of the police station was cool and quiet as Ian walked inside. The only sounds came from the ring of the phones and the hiss of the air-conditioning. Sally Hughes, the desk clerk, smiled at him as he strolled in.
Morning, Chief, she said, holding out a blue file folder. The car is registered to a Marisol Arantes. Address in Manhattan. Pricey neighborhood in SoHo from what I can tell. No criminal record. She doesnt own property in the county, at least not in her name. So what did she do?
Nothing, Ian murmured. So shes not a local?
Sally shook her head. Nope. Maybe she was here visiting friends. You want me to dig a little deeper?
Thanks, he said, closing the folder. But theres no need. Ian walked back to his office. Bonnett Harbor was a small town of about 2,500 year-round residents and a full-time police force of eight officers. Nothing much happened beyond a few noisy parties each weekend and the occasional traffic stop. Seeing Marisol Arantes was the most interesting thing that had happened to Ian in at least the past month or two.
He sat down at his desk and opened the folder, pulling out the enlargement of her drivers license photo. Even the DMV had gotten it right. She stared out at him with a sultry look, her lashes lowered, her smile soHe sighed. What would it be like to have a woman like that in his lifein his bed? To have the time to explore her passionate side, to learn every curve and angle of her body, memorize the nuances of her voice and her touch.
There is one other thing, Sally said, poking her head in the office door.
Ian slammed the folder shut and looked up at her. Its Saturday. This is my day off, isnt it?
Youre here, arent you? I tried to give this to one of the guys on patrol, but they both agreed you ought to handle it since it wasnt an emergency situation and you have a way with people.
Right, Ian said, standing. He tucked the folder under his arm. What is it?
Theres a new tenant over on Bay Street, in that shop with the two little pine trees in front of it. A few members of the biddy brigade have called in to complain theres something obscene displayed in the front window.
Obscene? Like what?
They couldnt bring themselves to say. My guess, a naked breast. They practically died of the vapors when Carmen at the video store put up that poster for that French movie. You know, the one where the ladys dress was half on and half off.
All right, Ian said. Ill go check it out, but then Im done for the day. Understand? Anything else comes in and the boys handle it.
Sally gave him a smart salute as he walked back through the front doors. You got it, Chief. Enjoy your weekend.
Ian walked back out to his car, then noticed the folder he still carried in his hand. He opened it up and pulled out the photo once more. There had to be a way to meet this woman again. He shook his head. Hed never been so captivated by a woman before, and never by a perfect stranger.
Ian groaned. Hell, for all he knew, she could be a complete ditz, or a raging harpy, or she could be happily married with three children. Which would probably be for the best considering the most he could manage right now was an affair in mind only. Hed made his brothers a promise, sworn on the gold charm, and he had two weeks pay riding on three months of complete celibacy.
He leaned against the Mustang and studied her features for a moment longer, wondering just what it was that made her so attractive. Finally, he slipped into the car and tossed the folder on the passenger seat. Hed never see her again, so what was the point in thinking about her?
Ian put the car into gear and steered out of the parking lot, turning toward Bay Street. Running parallel to Main Street, Bay had a small collection of shops and boutiques as well as a few art galleries. More and more of the buildings were being renovated and rented out to businesses that appealed to the summer crowd. Before long, Ian expected that Bonnett Harbor would be second only to nearby Newport as a tourist destination.
He parked the car in the first available spot, then got out, not bothering with the meter. Ian scanned the windows up and down the street as he walked, searching for something that might be considered obscene. A moment later, he came to a stop in front of the two small pine trees. Three sculptures stood in the plate glass display window, each perched on a stark white pedestal. And they all featured the naked male form between the waist and the thighs.
The sculptures, though fashioned out of clay, looked disturbingly lifelike. They werent technically obscene, just very detailed and realistic. And fairly well endowed. He walked to the door and peered inside through blinds half-shut. The interior was in disarray, as if the new tenant was just moving in. Paintings were leaned up against the walls and other sculptures sat on pedestals, covered in bubble wrap. Ian tried the door and was surprised when it opened.
As he walked inside the cool interior, sounds of an opera aria echoed through the shop, the soprano voice sweet and soothing. Hello, he called. Anyone here?
A few seconds later, he heard footsteps on the polished hardwood floors. And then, as if by magic, she appeared. The woman in the green Triumph. He frantically tried to recall her name. MarisolMarisol Arantes. But then, he wasnt supposed to know her name. Ian sucked in a quick breath as he watched her approach, her thin silk dress molding to her slender body as she walked.
Can I She paused. Its you, she said. From the stoplight.
Ian nodded and pulled his badge from his jeans pocket. She remembered him, as well. That was a good sign. Ian Quinn, he said. Im chief of police here in Bonnett Harbor. And youre
Marisol, she replied, her whiskey-tinged voice sending a shiver down his spine. Marisol Arantes. She didnt offer her hand and Ian found himself disappointed. Her fingers were long and slender, tipped by short, unpolished nails. He noticed a streak of blue paint just below her wrist and fixed on it for a long while.
She cleared her throat, jerking him out of a study of her left forearm. Is there something I can do for you? I believe I have all of my permits in order, dont I?
He met her gaze. Ive been asked to come here to discuss the pe Ian paused. Theart in your front window.
She stared at him in a very disconcerting way and Ian shifted, unable to read her expression. Women usually found him charming, but he sensed that Marisol Arantes was used to getting more from her men than a winning smile. He was seriously out of his league here.
Youve been asked? She took a step toward him, observing him shrewdly, then slowly circled him, her eyes raking his body as she moved. Do you always do what people ask of you, Mr. Quinn?
Miss Arantes, this is a very small town. And though your sculptures and paintings might befascinating to big city folks, people around here find them a little unnerving.
Do you find them unnerving?
He chuckled softly as she circled back in front of him. Do you always ask so many questions? he countered.
She smiled. Im curious. What do you think of my art?
I dont know much about art, Ian admitted, taking in the paintings and sculptures scattered about. She was standing so close he could smell her perfume, even feel the heat from her body. I know the Mona Lisa is good and Elvis on velvet is bad, but beyond that, I cant offer an opinion.
Ah, but its not an opinion I seek, she said, her voice taking on a seductive tone. But your reaction. She placed her palm in the middle of his chest. How you feel right now? Physically? Emotionally?
If she wanted to know, he could tell her. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his head. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her, to skim his palms over her arms, to circle her waist and pull her against him. And he was afraid to look down, afraid that he was having the same reaction to her that hed had in the car. Beyond that, he wondered just what, if anything, she was wearing under the flimsy dress.
If she knew the effect her touch was having on his body, she didnt show it. Ian tried to moderate his breathing, tried to appear calm. But he was finding it nearly impossible now that the warmth of her hand had seeped into his skin. He scanned her features, taking in the heart-shaped face and the lush lips, the wide eyes and the thick dark hair.
If he just leaned forward a bit, if she gave him the tiniest hint of interest, hed be forced to kiss her. Once he did that, they could put all this small talk behind them and get down to the business of this crazy attraction between them. There was an attraction, wasnt there? He wasnt reading the signs wrong.
Well? Are you feeling anything? she asked.
Ian drew a deep breath and cleared his throat, trying to focus his thoughts. Yes, he murmured, his voice cracking. Confusion, exhilaration, insecurity. Hed made love to his fair share of women, but suddenly, he felt like a complete rookie. If he could barely talk to her, then how the hell did he expect to seduce her?