Speaking of… Percy almost tripped as the tiny thing ran under and between his feet. Round and round it went, as if desperate for him to give it some attention.
“I’ve gotta get this cooked,” he told her. “Chill.”
She gave him an offended look, but chill she did. Curling into a ball of skin and fur by the refrigerator, she gave him another of those long, heartfelt looks, then went to sleep.
So other than being really, really smart, what made this dog so important that someone would break the law for it? Grumbling, Percy sautéed bacon to add to the green beans. All the while, his brain raced, considering and eliminating possibilities.
By the time Andrea came in, the table was ready. And Percy had a plan.
“Hungry?” Percy asked, not bothering to tone down what he was hungry for. Hey, she wasn’t wearing panties. And he was damn near starving.
* * *
ANDREA STOPPED SHORT IN THE doorway, her breath catching at the look on his face. Talk about hunger. Her heart fluttered, dropping into a stomach already tight with desire. The entire time she’d been in the shower, all she’d been able to think about was Percy.
About kissing him. About tasting him. About drawing his body deep into hers, over and over again. Just the fantasy of it had gotten her hot and wet. Which was a problem, given that she had no idea where her underpants were.
At Percy’s question, Medusa woke. Seeing Andrea, she gave a little yip and ran over for a hug. Laughing despite the fact that she was falling for the dog as much as the man—both out of her league—she swept the little body up for a hug. Medusa tilted that sweet head to one side and gave Andrea a look that said trust. And love.
Andrea’s eyes filled, emotion clogging her throat. Here she’d been, totally focused on her wants and desires and issues. But she was supposed to be protecting the dog. They had to figure out why someone had kidnapped her and if she was still in danger.
The sooner they found out, the sooner everyone could get back to their regular lives. And the sooner she could see if Percy was going to be a part of hers.
She gently set the dog on the floor.
“Can we talk?” she asked Percy as she straightened, her smile closer to a grimace than a grin. The lust coiling low in her belly gave up the fight against the tension battling there for supremacy.
“Sure. Want to talk and eat?” he suggested, indicating the dining room. Medusa was totally on board with that, prancing around Andrea’s feet before heading toward the dining room and back as if to say, Hurry up.
Andrea’s smile softened, becoming easier and genuine as she watched the dog. She glanced at Percy, noticing that he was watching, too. Her heart sighed. Instead of bafflement or disdain, his look was pure affection.
“Thanks so much for putting dinner together,” she said, trying to distract herself from falling too deeply for him. Not yet. Not until she was sure. “I’d offer to get groceries and make breakfast, but that creep has my wallet.”
If that wasn’t the perfect segue, she didn’t know what was. Andrea stepped into the formal dining room and stopped short.
“Oh, my…”
Eyes wide, she took in the scene.
Candles of varying colors flickered on the sideboard. The table was set with gleaming white china, sparkling crystal and a pretty red free-form glass bowl in the center.
“Aren’t you the romantic,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. The part of her that didn’t want to wrap her legs around his hips and squeeze him tight wanted to smack him. What was he doing, setting such a beautiful scene? Was he trying to break down every protective barrier she had?
“It’s not much, but you should eat while the food is still warm,” he said, indicating the covered dish.
“Thank you for going to so much trouble,” she said quietly as she took her seat.
“So, you wanted to talk?” he reminded her as he dished up her plate, then his own.
“I was hoping we could figure out who’s behind Medusa’s kidnapping.”
“Great minds,” he said with a nod. “I was thinking about just that. So fill me in. When we went out, you were working in a salon, doing people’s hair, right? What made you switch? Where do you find your clients? How’d you get Medusa?”
Andrea grinned at the rapid-fire questions. Glad to focus on the case, and on the delicious chicken dinner, she followed Percy’s lead, talking and eating at the same time.
“Growing up, I spent so much time doing my sisters’ hair, helping pretty them up for dates, that it seemed like a natural career choice. And I liked doing hair well enough, I guess. But when Viviana closed her shop, I realized I didn’t love it enough to find another salon, or to even open my own. About a year ago, I agreed to do hair at a party for one of the Nob Hill bridge clubs. Before the night was over, I’d made over all six women plus their dogs. Turns out the dogs were more fun.”
And they didn’t judge her, or make comments about what a pretty face she had, then sigh as if pitying that the rest of her didn’t measure up.
“And that made you shift from people to dogs?” Percy prompted. Not facts for the case, she realized. But because he was genuinely interested. Blushing a little, she glanced down at her plate a second to try to figure out why. Maybe it was the intensity of his focus on her. Or the fact that he’d seen her naked, really naked, and still wanted to know more about her. About her life. Wow.
“Um, it wasn’t quite as simple as that, but from that party I ended up getting requests from the women to groom their dogs. It was a ‘they told two friends, then they told two friends and so on’ kind of thing. When I lost my job at the salon, and was looking for alternatives, I realized I was making the same amount of money as I’d been bringing in doing hair. So I spent some time studying, visited a dozen or so breeders to learn more about American Kennel Club requirements and grooming specifics, and interned at my vet’s clinic to learn handling, health and hygiene.”
“And then?” he asked when she paused to take a sip of her wine.
“And then I dived right in. The bulk of my clients are wealthy society matrons, but I’ve made some good contacts with breeders who appreciate that I use all-natural products and do more to work with the dogs than just give them a shampoo and set.”
“You love it,” Percy observed. “I don’t remember you being anywhere near this enthusiastic before.”
Andrea wrinkled her nose. Before, she’d been afraid to say too much and scare him away. Her momma always said men wanted girls who sat pretty and listened, not ones who yammered on all the time. And look at her now, sitting and yammering.
“I really love ‘Fur’sace,” she admitted. “Running my own business, calling the shots. The dogs are great, even if some of the owners are a little crazy. And I’m really good at what I’m doing.”
“Was Eliza Day one of those early clients?”
And now they got to the case. Comfortable, and glad to finally start figuring it out, Andrea set her fork aside and leaned forward.
“No. I’ve only been working with Eliza and Medusa for about two months. I probably told you before that my mom and sisters have all married money—a few times. My mother hosted a champagne brunch fundraiser and Eliza was there. She and Medusa were wearing matching silk scarves and flowers in their hair. The poor dog was allergic to the orchid and had a rash starting to spread over her neck.”
“Was Day worried?”
“Eliza?” Andrea laughed. “No, she was pissed. The red splotches clashed with the scarf and was ruining the impression she wanted to make with her fancy, exclusive dog. That’s the kind of people the Days are. It’s all about impressions. I had some salve in the travel grooming kit in my car. Eliza was so impressed, she claimed me as her very own groomer from that moment on.”
Still smiling at the memory, Andrea looked around to find Medusa curled up at Percy’s feet. Giving the dog an affectionate look, she said, “At this point, she’s at my place three days a week. Hair, skin care, general pampe
ring. But mostly, I think it’s because Eliza gets bored with her, yet prides herself on being the perfect pet owner. This eases her conscience, leaves her free to pursue her interests dog free and spends her husband’s money.”
“Did she drop Medusa off today?”
“She rarely drops her off. Usually it’s her assistant, or like today, her driver.” She saw the look of contempt on Percy’s face, and since she agreed, nodded. “I’m not saying she’s a nice woman. Or even a good person. But I don’t believe she’s behind the dognapping attempt. There’s just nothing in it for her. It has to be her husband.”
Percy made a noncommittal sound as he finished his chicken. Then, after a sip of wine, he asked, “Tell me about your competition. Who else is big in the dog-grooming world?”
Andrea frowned. Did that mean he was dismissing her idea about Day?
“I don’t have much,” she said slowly, trying not to get irritated. “I told you about Diamonds and Doggies already. There are other groomers around, of course, but most don’t cater to the rich and famous.”
“And this Diamond place? They do?”
“Their focus is more on show dogs than spoiled lapdogs, I think. They seem to be doing really well. Raye’s boutique is much fancier than mine and she recently expanded to offer pick-up and delivery services.”
He gave a slow nod. Getting impatient because he wasn’t even considering the most obvious suspect, Andrea frowned.
“What about Day? He’s the one who has the most to gain by this. He’d be able to use the dog against Eliza in the divorce settlement. Or just take Medusa to punish his ex-wife.”
Andrea was sure the culprit was Day. She’d met the man one time and he was an absolute jerk, exactly the kind of guy who’d hire a creep who wore a suit but no deodorant to kidnap a tiny dog.
“You think he’d hire me to pick the dog up after he’d hired someone else to steal it?” Percy didn’t sound as if he doubted her. But he didn’t sound as if he believed her, either.
“I certainly do. But you’re the big detective man,” she said, not wanting to believe he’d put money and connections over the truth. “Have you figured out who tried to steal Medusa? You know she’s not going to be safe until this is solved.”
Percy shifted, glancing down at the little dog now sprawled across his feet. He frowned at her, but Andrea still saw the look of indulgence on his face. Oh, yeah, Medusa was working her magic.
“I promise, the dog will be safe. I have a few ideas, but you’re going to have to trust me. I don’t like to make accusations without proof. That makes for sloppy detective work. You’re good at your job,” he told her, getting to his feet, “and I’m good at mine. I’m waiting for some info, but we should be able to settle this tomorrow.”
Andrea believed him. Relief fought with disappointment. Tomorrow she could go home. There wouldn’t be a creepy guy lurking outside her door, nor any threat to the dogs under her care. And maybe there’d be no more Percy. Sure, he was acting as though he wanted a future with her. Now. But would it last once the emergency was over?
It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in him. It was that she had so little in her own appeal.
Which was a cop-out, she realized. She was sabotaging them before they even had a chance. She had right now. This was her shot at showing him why this thing—whatever it was growing into—should last.
“So what are we going to do with the rest of tonight, then?” she asked softly, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. Their bodies brushed. Her breath caught.
He pulled her closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the pebbled tips tightening. Heat flamed low in her belly, fast and edgy with need.
“I did promise you dessert, after all,” she said as his mouth descended.
“We’ll figure something out,” he promised just before his mouth took hers in a kiss sweeter than the richest chocolate.
11
HER BODY WEAK WITH PLEASURE and a lack of sleep brought on by hours and hours and more delicious hours of incredible loving, Andrea sighed. She wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet.
She was even more unready for the best night of her life to end. But someone was licking her nose, and she didn’t think it was Percy.
With a sigh, she pried open one eye and saw the tiny dog face surrounded by silky dreadlocks. The desperate look in those black eyes made it obvious what the early-morning wake-up call was all about.
So much for five more minutes or a morning quickie.
She reluctantly slipped out from under Percy’s arm, glancing over her shoulder at him as she climbed from the bed. It was all she could do not to climb right back in. He looked so good. Lying on his stomach, his broadly muscled back was golden in the pale morning light. Tousled as much from her fingers as from sleep, his hair was a few shades darker than his skin. She’d spent hours tasting that skin. Caressing it. Reveling in the contrast of it against her own.
Before she could give in to the temptation to climb back into bed with him, she grabbed her wrinkled dress and, her nose scrunched in distaste, pulled it over her head. She gave the dog a “follow me” gesture and the two of them tiptoed out to the deck overlooking the ocean. Together, she and Medusa went down the steps toward the cliffs.
What a gorgeous morning. While Medusa sniffed around, Andrea stretched her arms overhead and sighed with pleasure, her body loose and lax after a night of good loving. The sound of the pounding surf and the warm morning sun filled her with contentment.
She was pretty sure she’d seen waffles in the freezer. Sure, they were a crime against great gourmet after-sex breakfast delights. But maybe with a little warm syrup or strawberry jam? Served naked? Yeah, she grinned. That’d work.
“C’mon, Medusa. It’s breakfast time,” she whispered, not wanting to yell and wake Percy. He’d worked hard all night and needed his rest. Especially since she wanted him hard at work again soon. She giggled then quietly slid open the glass door.
Halfway across the room, she heard Percy on the phone in the kitchen. So much for clever ways to wake him using only her tongue.
Then she heard what he was saying.
“How many times did you say Day called, looking for the dog? Really? Sounds like he’s getting impatient. Did you tell him that impatience costs extra. Yeah? Well, I did exactly what he wanted, didn’t I?”
Frowning, Andrea tucked Medusa closer against her. Who was he talking to? And what did he mean, cost extra? He wasn’t working for Day anymore. Was he?
“Nah,” he continued over the sound of clattering pans. “She’s just a means to an end. Easy to use but just as easy to blow off later.”
Andrea’s entire body flushed hot, then flashed cold. She, who? Who was he using? Not her. He wouldn’t do that.
“Right. I know, we have bills to pay. That’s what this little hiatus was about, remember. Breathing room until I figured out whether I wanted the offer or not. But hey, if he wants to make me a rich man, I’m all for it.” He paused, then laughed. “No worries. I promise, no woman could ever take your place. I’ll never let you go.”
Frozen in shock, Andrea could barely think. Through tear-blurred eyes, she stared at the expanse of white hallway until she pulled herself together.
Percy was using her.
He planned to turn Medusa over to Day, letting him get away with the dognapping.
And worst of all, Percy was committed to another woman.
How dare he? He pretended to want her, to be willing to commit to giving them a chance as a couple. And all the time, he’d just been using her?
Well, screw him.
Andrea wanted to storm in there and beat him over the head with the hot frying pan he was cooking with.
But she had Medusa to protect. Heart racing, Andrea realized she had to get the dog away before Percy went forward with whatever dirty little plan he’d concocted.
As quietly as possible, she tiptoed down the hallway. Scooping up Medusa’s bag, she looked around. Other th
an her shoes and underwear, she had nothing else to take.
Her shoes were right there next to the couch, so Andrea grabbed them. But she hadn’t seen her panties since Percy had slid them off her thighs the previous day.
“Hang on, let me see where Andrea is.”
Her heart jumped. Pulse racing, she decided underwear didn’t matter. She had to get out of here. Before he came looking for her.
But after she was sure Medusa was safe?
Well, then she’d be back to beat him with that frying pan. She’d learned two things during her time with Percy. One, that heroes weren’t always the good guys. And two, she was damn important and deserved to be treated that way. And nobody was going to use her then blow her off.
Deciding the front door would make too much noise, and besides, she was closer to the slider, Andrea ran for the back deck. She didn’t pause to put her shoes on until she’d reached the bottom steps.
She looked around frantically. All she saw were the cliffs. Most of the neighboring houses were empty. She pressed a kiss to Medusa’s head and blinked to try to clear the panicked haze from her gaze.
Concentrate, Andrea, she ordered. There was a hotel a couple of blocks over. She remembered passing it the night before. Deciding that was the safest, smartest option, she ran for the side of the house opposite the kitchen and its big windows.
“It’ll be okay,” she assured the dog. “I promise. I’ll take care of you.”
Just as she reached the front courtyard, a huge shadow fell over them. Looming there in all his huge, ugly glory was the dognapping goon. For a second, Andrea froze, terror holding her in its icy prison. No way. Not again.
Medusa growled. The low, vicious rumble acted as a key, freeing Andrea to run. So she did, turning on her heel and sprinting back toward the cliffs.
The goon was hot on her heels. He might be huge, but he was fast.
Faster than she was, she realized, glancing over her shoulder.
There was no way she was going to get away. But she’d be damned if he was going to grab Medusa again. Desperate, a painful stitch in her side and her breath coming in hot pants, Andrea rounded the back of the house. Bright sunlight slammed her in the face, temporarily blinding her after the dim light between houses. Shading her eyes with one hand, she ran toward the bushes along the edge of the deck.
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VII: The Steadfast Hot SoldierWild Thing Page 16
