Talk about food for thought.
VIC HAD THE DAY OFF, but he stopped by the station to pick up his paycheck. Then out of habit he checked the bulletin board. The scores from the recent sergeants exam, which Vic had taken, were still posted. Hed made a ninety-eight out of one hundred, the highest score of everybody whod sat for the test. Just seeing that score after his name gave him a lift.
After the test hed gone in for a personal assessment, interviewing with various people, and apparently hed aced it. Rumor had it he was number one on the list. Next time a sergeants spot opened up, the promotion was his. Hed been a senior corporal for almost four years, and it was about damn time.
His mood deflated somewhat when he ran into Bobby Ray, whod drawn desk duty while he recuperated from his injuries. Vic hadnt thought about what he would tell his partner about the previous night, but he doubted it would be the truth. He had no intention of turning a tomcat like Bobby loose on Angela. The woman was hot, in her own sweet way, and Vic intended to keep her all to himself. He couldnt remember the last time a woman had made him hard just standing there looking at him.
Hey, buddy! Bobby called to him from the bullpen.
Damn. Im in kind of a hurry, Bobby.
Just tell me how it went last night. Phoebe said this woman was hot looking but a real prude. Well, she didnt use those words, but I read between the lines.
Vic hesitated, then walked over to Bobbys temporary desk so everyone in the place couldnt overhear. She wasnt bad. He didnt plan what he would say next. The words just poured out, seemingly of their own accord. Her teeth were hardly noticeable as long as she kept her mouth closed.
Teeth?
Oh, I guess Phoebe didnt tell you. Our gals got quite an overbite. But its kind of endearing, really.
What about the rest of her? I mean, theres always a paper bag. Bobby guffawed, but Vic didnt join in.
Shes okay. From what she tells me, the diet center she goes to has really paid off. She says she has twenty pounds more to meet her goal, but I thought she looked fine.
Shes fat?
No. Well, not really huge or anything. Just normal size.
Okay, okay, never mind that. What about her hands? How was her technique? I mean, shes a massage therapist.
Vic shook his head. Her hands were fine, and I didnt even mind the smell that much.
What smell?
Its this special medicinal lotion she uses for massage. Shes allergic to the regular kinds. It smells kind of like mothballs, but it wasnt that strong.
Bobbys eyes bulged, and his lips drew into a grimace. Did she put that stuff on you?
No, of course not. The scent of the lotion sticks to her, she said, no matter how many times she washes. I could smell it just standing next to her. Anyway, there was no massage. I just took her home, like I told you I would do.
So youre telling me you didnt get lucky.
It all depends on how you look at it. With that he left Bobby to mull over his own good luck. He felt only a twinge of guilt at the outrageous lies hed told. Someday Bobby would probably talk to Phoebe and discover the truth, but Vic would deal with that when the time came.
A more immediate problem was what to do with Angela tonightif she even let him through the door after the high-handed way hed finagled a date from her. Ordinarily, for a late-night rendezvous, he would take a woman to a coffeehouse or sidewalk café for a bite to eat and some good conversation. But this situation with Angela demanded something unusual.
She definitely responded to an element of mystery. So he had to think of something unexpected, a little bit daring, a little risqué.
Did her building have a flat roof? he wondered.
ANGELA HATED EVERYTHING in her closet. Her clothes were so mundane, so ordinary, and much too conservative. Vic would be here in fifteen minutes, and she still wasnt dressed.
Finally she settled on her all-purpose spaghetti-strapped black dress. She could snazz it up with a beaded bolero vest and heels, or dress it down with a funky hat and lace-up boots, depending on where they were going. Whatever their destination, she would insist on driving. She couldnt negotiate the back of a motorcycle in a short dress.
She was ashamed of herself that she hadnt even considered not going. She hated it when a man had to have his way, when they brushed aside her ideas and suggestions as insignificant. Why, then, did those habits seem intriguing and exciting in Vic?
Shed always been independent, had never let anyone lead her around by the nose. Maybe it was the novelty of surrendering control, she reasoned as she debated over what color hose to wear. Black, maybe. She started to grab some black panty hose. Then she spotted a pair of stockings that required a garter belt.
Feeling naughty, she pulled them out of the drawer, running the smooth silk over the back of her hand. Shed bought them on a whim and never worn them, but tonight seemed like a good timethey made her feel sexy. Not that she needed any artificial stimulation when Vic was around. She felt as if she could outsex Madonna when he looked at her with those electric blue eyes.
Angela didnt know what to do with her hair. Normally she wore it in a ponytail or braid, but that seemed too youthful for the way she felt tonight. She thought about pinning it up. Did guys ever really take a girls hairpins out one by one so her hair could tumble over her shoulders, all sexy and tousled? She was afraid it wouldnt work in real life the way it did in movies, so she left her hair loose. She decided she liked the way the curled ends brushed her bare shoulders.
She was dressed and ready at ten minutes to ten. Since she hated watching the clock, waiting for a date to pick her up, she got to work on a neglected craft project, a cross-stitched pillow for a cousin who was getting married this summer. If Vic stood her up, at least she would have something to show for the evening.
The next time she looked up at the clock, it was ten-fifteen. She threw her needlework aside in disgust. The jerk had changed his mind!
It was for the better, she told herself. She had no business going out with a man like that. He was a threat to her well-ordered world, not to mention her sanity. She couldnt think rationally when he was around.
Just when shed decided to change into her nightgown, a knock came at the door. Her heart jumped into her throat. If it was Vic, he ought to be ringing her from the front security door.
Just a minute! she called out, sliding her feet back into her black flats and zipping up her dress. If it was Vic, shed give him an earful. Twenty minutes late, and not even a phone call to let her know.
Full of righteous indignation, she threw open the door, and any lecture she might have delivered died in her throat. Lord, the man was gorgeous, but in a tuxedo he was incredible. He didnt have that smooth, urbane James Bond look, but somehow he appeared oddly at ease in the formal wear. She wouldnt have expected that.
How did you get through the security door? she blurted out in the way of greeting.
Your neighbor, Mrs. Gibbons, let me in.
Mrs. Gibbons? She was the old lady on the first floor who was terrified of burglars and muggers. She had three dead bolts on her door and required three pieces of ID before shed let her own sister in. It was comforting to know that Angela wasnt the only female susceptible to Vics charms.
Your neighbor, Mrs. Gibbons, let me in.
Mrs. Gibbons? She was the old lady on the first floor who was terrified of burglars and muggers. She had three dead bolts on her door and required three pieces of ID before shed let her own sister in. It was comforting to know that Angela wasnt the only female susceptible to Vics charms.
You look hot, Vic added, his voice husky.
A surge of feminine pleasure washed through her. She murmured her thanks, then moved aside to let him in. He looked out of place in her fussy, feminine living room, and she decided right then and there to redecorate. It looked as if a spinster lived here. She would use Vic as the focal point of the decor.
Sit down, and Ill go change, she said. I hadnt realized we were going formal.
He grabbed her arm before she could make good her escape. You look just fine for where were going.
Oh, but I have this little beaded vest. She didnt finish outlining her wardrobe possibilities to him. His hot gaze struck her absolutely dumb. Before she knew it he had his arms around her, and they were kissing.
It was a beautiful kiss, steamy, full of passion, yet oddly she knew it was just a kiss to be enjoyed for its own sake. This was a guy who knew how to kiss. He nipped at her lips, then moved in for the kill, covering her mouth with his, using a gentle but insistent pressure. He let his tongue flirt with hers, then just when she thought she was going to pass out from overwhelming sensations, he backed off to kiss her neck, her ear, her forehead.
He didnt press his advantage, for which she was grateful. She had hours yet to resist him.