Jermy, Marie - Secret Eyes (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  “You going home?” Ross asked as they exited the building and stood on the sidewalk.

  “Yeah. I need a bath and a change of clothes.”

  “I’ll hail you a cab.”

  This time, Leia was not so gracious. “Ross, I’m quite capable of using the subway to get home.”

  “I know, but I promised Jess. Besides, I know that my father-in-law would skewer me if anything happened to you.”

  The warm smile to Ross’s voice was clear. She searched for his hand, found it, and linked her fingers through his. “Just like Ray, you’re a good man, Ross. But stubborn.”

  Another stubborn man was her brother, Anakin, and as soon as Leia arrived at the ground-floor brownstone in Queens she called home, he followed her into the kitchen, again telling her about a gym friend of his who wanted to date her.

  Anakin had taken up residence in her spare room while his house underwent a complete re-wiring. Originally, he’d said it would be only a couple of weeks, yet the time had stretched into two months. Not that she’d minded. Anakin was her brother, and she loved him dearly, even though at times, like now, he could be such a pain in the ass.

  Tiredly, Leia rubbed her eyes and switched the kettle on for a well-deserved cup of tea. Taking a cup from the overhead cupboard, she added a tea bag, then as an afterthought made her brother one, too. For the full five minutes the bags seeped, Anakin continued to sing Gary’s praises.

  “So, sis,” he finally said, “what do you say? Gary’s a nice guy. I know he’ll treat you right.”

  “And when do you go home?” she asked in response.

  “Tonight, actually. Electrician called me earlier and said all was ready.

  Hallelujah! Her mind seriously committed to that schmuck and his dangerous and compelling cologne and voice, she absently removed the milk from the refrigerator and added a couple of splashes to each cup. As she stirred in sugar, she sensed Anakin watching her. “What?”

  “Who did that?”

  “Oh, some schmuck who wasn’t looking where he was going,” she replied, instantly knowing her brother was referring to her coffee-stained raincoat that she’d draped over one of the stools at the breakfast bar. But what a “schmuck.” Cold as ice, yet with a presence hotter-than-sin. She again mourned the fact she would never meet him again. She’d stake every dime in her bank account that sex with him would also be hotter-than-sin.

  “A man, hey?”

  Leia slid one of the cups along the counter toward Anakin. “Yes, a man.” She snorted, knowing exactly what her brother was implying. “Look, just because it was a man, it doesn’t mean I’m looking to jump into another relationship.” Only if it involves jumping into bed with a hotter-than-sin coffee-throwing schmuck, she silently added. “I’m really enjoying my freedom since I split with Graham, thank you very much.”

  And wasn’t that the truth, too.

  She and Graham, an antique dealer she’d met at a charity auction, had shared a six-month passionate, highly sexually charged relationship that ended when he suddenly turned possessive and showed a control-freak side that Leia hadn’t sensed because it had been buried so deep. He hadn’t abused her physically or been cruel to Archie, but with his constant demands to be with her twenty-four-seven, she got out before that became the next step.

  She’d confided in Jessica with what had happened, and even though Anakin had witnessed and asked about Graham’s demands on her, Leia hadn’t told him the full story. It had been the right choice. Since her brother was a karate instructor, she didn’t want him getting into trouble with the police for kicking Graham’s ass.

  “Well, this man must have had some effect on you,” Anakin remarked as he gulped his tea. “I’ve never known you to put milk or sugar in your tea before.”

  Leia opened her mouth to protest, but shelved it when she lifted the cup and took a sip. Yecch! She poured the tea down the sink and made herself another.

  Just then, Archie entered the kitchen, his claws clicking loudly against the linoleum. He pushed his nose against her legs and whined. “Oh, you hungry, boy?” At his answering woof, she busied herself with filling his bowl, keeping her thoughts firmly off the schmuck to keep herself from mistakenly opening a tin of something other than Archie’s favorite dog food.

  When Archie was happily chomping away, Leia set about preparing herself something to eat, but Anakin caught her hand and turned her to face him.

  “Don’t ignore me. Yes to Gary?”

  “No. Definitely no. Tell him thanks for asking, though.”

  “You seeing this schmuck?”

  “No, of course not.” Not that she didn’t want to. “The chances of me bumping into him again, or vice versa, is so remote it’s not worth mentioning.”

  But she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were going to meet again.

  And soon.

  Leia still couldn’t shake that feeling after Anakin had finally left, and she’d taken a long, hot soak in her newly fitted Jacuzzi bath. It was an extravagant buy, Anakin had said, but she hadn’t heard him complaining, not when for every hour she spent in the bathroom, he’d spent two.

  Now, dressed in pink flannel pajamas, she was curled comfortably on the sofa with Archie stretched out on the floor beside her. Though an audio recording of Stephanie Meyer’s book Eclipse played softly over the CD player, one question looped around in her head, rather like a stuck record.

  Why had the dangerous and compelling coffee-throwing schmuck felt to her like he belonged in Scott Rafferty’s office at Magnum Investigations? The woodsy aroma, the sense of secrecy and darkness all matched. Were they one and the same man? The chances were slimmer than a blade of grass. And yet…

  Leia reached for her purse hanging over the back cushion and removed the agency’s business card, running her fingers over the embossed lettering. As well as her telepathic ability, she could sense such things as feelings, moods, and emotions through touching objects.

  Nope, no vibe. No nothing. Nada. Zilch. Hmm, maybe it was because Jessica had given it to her and not Scott Rafferty. Or maybe the “sex with a stranger with no strings attached” on her to-do list was seriously bending her “vibe radar.”

  Leia sighed. “What do you think, Archie? Are the schmuck and Scott Rafferty one and the same?”

  Two woofs.

  No.

  Satisfied with his answer—Archie was rarely wrong—Leia snuggled farther into the cushions and lost herself in the world of vampires and werewolves. If only they existed in real life…

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Scott sat at the reception desk, impatiently tapping his fingers against the maple wood and wearing a scowl that complemented his charcoal-gray tailored suit.

  He had lain awake for most of the night fantasizing about the woman he’d collided with, where instead of drowning her in coffee he’d taken her back to his office, kicked Jessica and Anderson out, and then after lifting her skirt, had pounded himself into sweet oblivion on his desk. And if that wasn’t enough, Leia Howard, Jessica’s good friend and choice of secretary, was forty-five minutes late. If there was one thing he asked of employees—and Jessica he was sure would agree—it was punctuality.

  For the hundredth time—not that he’d counted, it just felt like that—he glanced at his watch and huffed to his feet. He hoped Miss Howard’s secretarial skills were better than her time-keeping. He was halfway to the kitchen to fix himself with another coffee when, carried on the breeze of the opening of the main office door, a cloud of vanilla assailed his senses. For a second, he stood anchored to the spot. No, it couldn’t be.

  Scott spun around.

  Oh, yes it could be, for standing on the threshold accompanied by the black Labrador Archie, whose doggy face bore the same look of disdain he remembered, was none other than the woman from the day before. The same woman he’d collided with and spilled his caramel macchiato over. The same woman he’d lost sleep over. And the same woman who had given him the hardest cock since…since…well
, since Laura.

  His jaw hit the carpet. “You!” he spluttered, then, “Tell me you’re not Leia Howard?”

  “Tell me you’re not Scott Rafferty?” she countered, adding, “And the schmuck who showered me in coffee?”

  Scott shook his head to clear his muddled brain, picked his jaw up from off the carpet, and reverted to his original observation. “How did you…” He trailed off, not sure how to finish his line of questioning without actually admitting to being that schmuck.

  “Everybody has a unique aura. A different sense. Different smell. And no, there’s no need to sniff your armpits.”

  On the verge of doing just that, Scott quickly lowered his arms.

  “In fact, I sensed it was you as soon as I entered the lobby downstairs.”

  Scott didn’t know what to make of her explanation, but, and for some inexplicable reason, it made him happy. Real happy. Not to mention rock-hard. That sweet perfume of hers was making his cock jump with excitement. With extreme effort he quashed the surge of desire before it ruptured his pants zipper.

  He ran his eyes over her. Today, she wore a lilac-colored suit, the jacket cropped and the narrow skirt sitting two inches above a pair of knee-high, black leather low-heeled boots. Clasped in one hand was a laptop-sized case, the other holding the dog’s luminous green harness. The makeup on her delicate oval-shaped face was minimal, and her sassy, rich burnt umber hair shone under the ceiling lights, almost giving her a halo.

  Chic. Professional. And damned sexy. He couldn’t help but wonder what those slim and graceful fingers of hers would feel like curled around a certain part of his anatomy, pumping him to fulfillment.

  He quashed another surge of desire. “Well, Miss Howard—”

  “Leia please. And this is Archie,” she said, confirming what he’d already guessed to be the dog’s name.

  “Leia. Archie. Well, now that you’ve finally arrived, you can make me a coffee. I like it made with half a teaspoon of coffee, one heaped teaspoon of sugar, and plenty of milk.”

  Scott knew he was acting like a contemptible jerk, the boss from hell even, but it was either that or christen the newly-purchased reception desk with bodily fluids. With a guide dog casting him a look of “I’ll bite your balls off” as witness.

  Giving Archie a “try it” glare, he spun around on his heels, entered his office, and, definitely in jerk mode, slammed the door.

  * * * *

  Leia didn’t even flinch at the slamming door. She didn’t think the tension that rolled off Scott like that of breaking waves on a beach, and which prompted the door-slamming episode, was because she’d been late.

  Though his voice had been strong and held no hint of emotion, she knew he’d been affected by her presence as much as she’d been by his, which posed a definite problem. Sex with a stranger with no strings attached was one thing, but jumping into bed with the boss was quite another. It was playing with fire.

  Well, technically her boss was Jessica, but Scott still had a say in the running of the agency and made decisions in Jessica’s presence and absence. In fact, Jessica had hinted that Scott was actually a silent partner.

  As a general rule, Leia didn’t indulge in office romances. She preferred to keep her private and professional life separate. It was easier and a lot less hassle if things did sour. But she couldn’t deny she was hugely attracted to Scott. She’d never met a man as magnetic as him before. The aura of darkness and secrecy. The toughness she’d also sensed—she already knew from Jessica that Scott was a former detective and she had no doubts he still carried a gun. His voice, even his cologne all pulled her to him, like the proverbial moth to a flame. Sleeping with him would be playing with fire. But how could she resist him? Did she even want to? The answer to that, Leia knew, was an unequivocal no.

  Archie made what sounded like an apologetic woof. He had been wrong. So wrong. Leia smiled down at him. “I’m not blaming you, boy. You bite Scott in the balls, though, and I might. Did you just roll your eyes in a ‘would I?’ gesture?” She giggled, lightly tugging on his harness to indicate for him to guide her to the chair behind the reception.

  One woof.

  Yes.

  Once seated, she felt around the L-shaped desk, pleased to find that nothing had moved since yesterday. She ignored the computer already in situ. She would have to ask Scott to connect her own Braille laptop for her. The vibes bouncing around her felt good, and she knew she’d be happy at the agency. The job would be both challenging and rewarding.

  With a contented sigh, Leia stood, removed and hung her jacket over the back of the chair, and sat down again. She busied herself for a few minutes, familiarizing herself with the contents of the desk drawers and placing the stationery items she might need within easy reach. Then, at the same time as Archie’s whine, an icy draft blew across her nape.

  Someone or something was behind her. And something that definitely wasn’t living.

  Without fear, Leia swiveled her chair around and smiled. “Hello, my name’s Leia. Welcome to Magnum Investigations. How may I help you?”

  The words had hardly left her mouth when, and as quickly as it had appeared, the icy presence vanished. The woman ghost—Leia just knew it had been a woman—seemed anxious and troubled. She had the feeling that the ghost, whoever she was, would visit again. She couldn’t wait.

  “Wasn’t that exciting, Archie?” she gushed as she stood. “Our first ghost.”

  Two woofs.

  No.

  “Chicken. Kitchen, please. Scott is waiting for his coffee.”

  Archie responded with a series of woofs.

  Let the schmuck wait.

  * * * *

  Scott looked up from his laptop at the light tapping on the door. A second later, mug of coffee in one hand and Archie’s harness in the other, Leia entered, her booted feet caressing the carpet as she approached him. Out of habit, he saved the Federation file he’d been working on and clicked the laptop’s lid shut. Leia might not have the benefit of sight, but Archie did. And dogs, he knew, be they guide, sniffer, shepherding, chewer of slippers, or whatever they were trained in, were very clever.

  “Mr. Rafferty, your coffee.”

  He inwardly cursed. Her tone was reserved, almost timid. What a schmuck. What a jerk! “Please, Leia, call me Scott.” He reached for the mug at the same time she placed it down, and again their fingers touched. This time, she didn’t jerk away but instead lingered. This surprised him. He suffered with Raynaud’s, a disorder that affected the arteries of the fingers and toes, causing them to become pale, cold, numb, and sometimes painful, and he knew his hands were as cold as ice.

  “Scott.” She smiled. “Your coffee. I hope it’s to your taste.”

  Scott felt damned sure it would be. Captivated by her dulcet tones, his gaze fixed on the friendly smile bracketing her bee-stung lips. He still wanted to kiss the pale pink lip gloss she wore right off them.

  His gaze dropped. For the first time he noticed she had removed her jacket to reveal a white open-necked fitted blouse. He didn’t have to focus for long to detect two dusky-pink and slightly puckered circles behind the lacy bra cups. His mouth suddenly gone dry, he licked his lips.

  Then his gaze dropped lower. Their fingers still touched. That raw sexual need he’d felt the day before, coupled with his hot fantasy, returned with a vengeance. Every cell in his body impulsively came alive, and his cock rose to attention. If he just moved the coffee out of harm’s way, he could take her slender and graceful hand fully in his and tug her across the desk and...

  Wait a minute; after Laura’s leaving, hadn’t he embraced do-it-yourself whack jobs? Yes, he had. So where was his control? His focus? His brain was in the head on his shoulders, not the one in his pants. Scott willed his cock down. It was to no avail. Okay, so his brain had moved south, however, instead of moving the mug out of harm’s way, he lifted it to his mouth and took a large quenching swallow. Yes, the coffee was definitely to his taste. As was she. He shifted in his chair
, the movement making space in his pants and sitting more comfortable. Then, noticing Leia was still standing, he said, “Please, take a seat. The chair’s just to your right.”

  “I know. I have been here before.”

  She lowered herself deftly into the chair and, rather primly, crossed one leg over the other while Archie sat to attention at her side. The disdain had been replaced with indifference, almost as if to say “Yeah, I can work here, but only because my mistress has to.” Scott didn’t know whether to be pleased or pissed.

  He frowned. “When?”

  “Yesterday. After you spilled your coffee all over me. I came here to get a feel of the place, you know, before I started work. I think I disturbed Jessica and Ross doing something naughty on your desk.”

  He’d bet she did but chose not to comment.

  “Jessica had to leave to go home and pack, but Ross very kindly me showed me around.”

  “Did he indeed?” Scott couldn’t keep the acid from his tone, then couldn’t keep his mouth from dropping open at what happened next.

  The feeling’s mutual. He doesn’t like you either. May I ask why?

  Quickly recovering from his surprise, he grinned and telepathically returned, Because I’m a schmuck, and he’s a moron. She immediately burst into laughter, the sound akin to the joyful, musical pealing of bells. He laughed, too, then did something he should have done the moment she entered his office. “Leia, earlier, I acted like a jerk. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for being late.” She sighed and made an impatient gesture with her hands. “Subway track maintenance apparently.”

  He took another swallow of coffee and grinned as it hit all the right spots. “You know your contract doesn’t stipulate that you make coffee, but on the basis on how good this tastes, I’ll definitely be adding it.” Her soft and sexy smile also hit all the right spots.