Purrfect Justice

by Ashley Ladd

  He theatrically dipped her in his arms and teased her lips with scorching kisses. Mercilessly, he grazed his chest against her naked breasts. “Zorro intends to steal much more tonight.”

  Thrilled at his powerful mastery, at the wicked gleam dancing in his gaze, she quivered intensely. “What does Señor Zorro intend to steal?”

  “Tons of sizzling kisses.” He plundered her lips and drank deeply as he lowered her gently to the floor and lay on top of her.

  When he released her swollen lips, she asked impishly, “Only kisses?”

  His cock buried itself against her pussy and flexed deliciously. “Oh, I want to steal much more from you, mi amor.”

  Mi amor? My love?

  How she wished! But she didn’t delude herself, as heavenly as this night was.

  Bewitched, she opened herself body and soul. “As do I, Señor. Much more.”

  His pager trilled, and he froze. Moaning, he rolled off her with an apologetic wink. “Sorry, I’m on call so I have to take this.”

  Bereft of his warmth and disappointed, she nodded. Coming from a long line of policemen, she understood, even if she didn’t appreciate the untimely interruption.

  He stood and ambled to the far side of the room, blending with the long shadows. Then he returned the call and spoke in hushed tones, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

  Cold and with the spell broken, she redressed and tugged up her zipper with a whoosh. From the sound of his conversation, he wouldn’t be returning to her tonight.

  Tonight?

  Tonight was all they’d ever had, probably all they would ever have. Cursing the fairy tales that made her dream of unlikely, impossible happily-ever-afters, she swallowed her intense disappointment. She didn’t have a glass slipper to leave behind like Cinderella. If she were to leave her tail, he couldn’t very well go damsel to damsel to try it on for a perfect fit. Not that he’d care to anyway…

  Desperate to escape a prolonged, awkward goodbye, she waved and slipped out of the room. Lowering her head, she aimed for the ladies’ room to wash off all evidence of her secret rendezvous. All she needed was for Brad or Cindy to recognize her after this.

  “Poached eyeballs, Madame?” A Lurch look-alike blocked her way. The giant bowed, serving gooey eyeball appetizers from a shiny silver tray. She recognized the Addams Family manservant as Mike Matthias from her class at the Police Academy who had taken a post with the neighboring town of Margate.

  Strains of spooky music accentuated her need to leave immediately. The last thing she wanted was food or idle chitchat, even with an old friend. “No thanks.”

  She spied Cindy swaying in Brad’s arms across the room, gazing up at him as if he were Prince Charming. Cindy herself had come as Cinderella, and she was trying to get Brad to accept her glass slipper.

  Cindy needed to wake up and smell the poached eyeballs. Cinderella fantasies only came true in fairy tales. This was real life.

  * * * * *

  Only minutes later, Haley drove home in a fog, barely listening to her car’s police scanner turned on low. Awash with the scintillating memories, she alternately tingled all over and cringed. She could still smell Cole’s lingering spicy scent, could still feel his hard body pressed against her, could still taste his essence…

  “Officer down at Broward and 31st. Another officer in extreme jeopardy. Backup needed. Suspect is armed and dangerous.” Sheila’s voice didn’t flicker one iota even as it javelined fear into Haley’s heart. The older woman had been a dispatcher for twenty-odd years, and this was just another day on the job to her.

  “Oh, no! Cole!” Gasping, Haley’s heart trip-hammered as she cranked up the volume. Broward Boulevard lay north a scant half mile from her current position on Powerline. Few officers checked in, as most were still probably partying down at the masquerade. No one was half as close to the officers in need of assistance as she was.

  “Unit niner under fire. Approach with extreme caution.” Cole’s voice echoed eerily with the haunting, frightening words.

  The sounds of gunfire ricocheted over the scanner, and she swerved, her bumper almost kissing a palm tree. Getting a grip, she gunned her Honda toward the crime scene, one thought in her mind—maybe I can help.

  A police academy washout due to an injury during her final week of instruction, she’d been through enough training to take on a man Mike’s size when they’d partnered up in class. Thwarted from her dreams of being a police officer, she’d applied and been accepted as a secretary at police headquarters. Her knowledge of police procedure had given her an edge over the competition.

  The crime-fighting desire still burned in her veins, however, and she cursed her lousy eyesight. She pushed away the thought of not having a badge, that she had absolutely no authority to infiltrate a crime scene. The officer in jeopardy could be Cole.

  A chance existed she could help, and that’s what she intended to do. No one had recognized her at the party, and she could sneak up on the shooter before he knew she was there. Dark clouds misted over the moon and also hid most of the stars. In her completely black costume, she could blend in with the shadows.

  In less than three minutes, she approached the scene. Not wanting to be seen, she parked her car and slunk through parking lots, sticking to the shadows of empty buildings, ‘til she crept up on the gunman.

  When she spied Cole once again clad in his police uniform, standing in the gunman’s sights, her blood froze. She’d never seen him so pale, or his eyes so dark. She’d never been so very frightened.

  “Say your last prayers, pig. You shot my little brother, now I’m pluggin’ you.” The streetlamp glistened ominously on a Saturday night special.

  What blood hadn’t already iced over in her veins did now. She did her best to quell the chills coursing through her so she could perform the task she’d assigned herself.

  “You kill me in cold blood, you’ll be up on first-degree murder.” Cole’s voice remained remarkably steady, his features impassive. “You’ll get life or the chair.”

  Haley had never admired Cole more than in that instant. All the love she had welled in her heart, even as every nerve in her body cried out in anguish.

  “My mama’s all set to give me an alibi and there’s no witnesses.”

  The smug satisfaction and overconfidence in the slime’s voice sickened Haley. “Wrong!” she yelled as she ran at him and kicked at the gun in his hand.

  The gunman whirled and shot at her. The bullet went wild as the gun flipped end over end in the air.

  Terror engulfing her, and her pulse catapulted into overdrive.

  Everything happened so fast the actions blurred. Cole dove for the man, grabbing his waist, and hurled them to the pavement. The gun landed with a loud clank less than two feet away from the writhing figures on the ground, and they struggled to reach it.

  Haley sprinted for it and snatched it out of the criminal’s clutches just as his fingers grazed it. Backing up a good three feet, she stood with feet braced apart, the gun pointed squarely at his barrel-like chest. She disguised her voice as best as she could, demanding, “Face down and spread ‘em!” She waved the revolver at Cole. “You—handcuff him.”

  The man sprawled on the ground growled, spit, and cursed.

  She grinned. Oh, the joys of law enforcement life. Adrenaline rushed through her. She’d never been so invigorated, so alive. She’d always known she was made for this life. She and Cole would have made perfect partners. Whether he knew it or not, she’d worked a case with him at least this once. Another memory she’d forever cherish.

  When Cole snapped the handcuffs in place, she sighed in relief. That was her cue to vamoose before she wound up cuffed in its twin. Mission accomplished. He was safe. The injured officer, Archie Calloway, moaned and moved, so he was alive.

  Life was good.

  “It’s you.” Awe laced Cole’s voice as he stretched to his full height, an admirable six feet, two inches of pure solid muscle that towered over her average
height of five feet, four inches. “Thank you. Who are you?”

  Fear constricted her throat. He couldn’t find out who she was, so she backed away, not uttering another syllable. In the throes of passion, she’d already spoken way too much. Cole was no dummy. He’d recognize her voice if she kept talking. He might laugh at her were he to know her true identity, or worse, he might turn her in for interfering in official police business. Either way, she couldn’t chance revealing herself. From this point on, she vowed not to utter another word while wearing this costume.

  Shaking her head and her finger at him, her eyes wide behind her mask with the cool night breeze grazing them, she handed him the gun, pivoted on her high-heeled boot, and ran, her tail literally tucked between her legs.

  * * * * *

  Holy Batman and Robin!

  In shock, Cole stared openmouthed at his dream lover dashing away. Mesmerized by her leonine grace, lush curves and mysterious air, he couldn’t believe he’d been rescued by Catwoman.

  Like he could believe the sexy siren had given him a blowjob on such short acquaintance, so close to his friends and coworkers in the next room?

  Sure he was dreaming, a very sensual, pungent dream, he rubbed his eyes. Never before had he dreamed a woman would rescue him, much less a masked, unknown crusader. The guys back at the precinct would never let him live this one down. They’d tease him ‘til the day he died. Then they’d engrave his humiliation on his headstone.

  Sirens screamed, and Archie moaned, snapping Cole out of his reverie. Concern flooded him and he knelt at Archie’s side. “Where’d he get you? You hurting bad, buddy?” Cole knew better than to move an injured man, that he could make the injuries worse. Silently, he cursed the acrid stench of blood and gunpowder that almost gagged him.

  Archie wheezed and winced when he tried to crack a smile. “Am I delusional, or did Catwoman just save your sorry ass?”

  Dang! Cole had hoped his pal hadn’t seen their savior so he wouldn’t have to admit to anyone else he’d been rescued by a comic-strip temptress come to life. “You’re seeing things. All the blood’s drained out of that pea brain of yours.”

  “Hey, pig! I demand my rights. You can’t leave me here like this.”

  Cole glanced dispassionately at his prisoner squirming like a worm on the black, broken asphalt. Creeps who shot policemen didn’t deserve cushy treatment. “You’ll get your rights.” He ground his teeth, squeezing Archie’s hand. “We’ll fix you up good as new. Don’t worry.” The blood pooling around the older, gray-haired cop’s torso alarmed him, but he wouldn’t worry the downed man. “Help’s almost here.” He swallowed hard. “You won’t mention Catwoman saved us, will ya?” He sweetened the pot. “I’ll give you half my trust fund if you swear.”

  Archie cracked a smile and then grimaced again. “Half of nothin’ still ain’t nothin’. I gotta have somethin’ to live for, don’t I?”

  Cole groaned and stood, towering over his friend. Hands on his hips, he spread his feet wide. “Traitor.”

  Archie chuckled. “You get a load of that bodacious set of ta-tas? That’s one sexy mama.”

  A relieved smile tugged at Cole’s lips. The guy couldn’t be dying if he was so interested in Catwoman’s ta-tas.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Cole lied, remembering too well their breathtaking lovemaking only an hour before. An image of her kicking the gun out of his assailant’s hands flashed through his mind. Magnificent! He’d never met such an exciting, gorgeous woman before. He had to find her and learn who she was. With those moves, no doubt she was a policewoman. An ordinary civilian wouldn’t know how to sneak up on a perpetrator that way, nor would Miss Average Citizen know the karate moves she had used. But which policewoman?

  He had to do his investigating on the sly, though, or he’d be the joke of the force.

  Catwoman. A man’s fantasy come to life. A nightmare in cold reality?

  A police cruiser and ambulance pulled up, and he directed them to the downed officer. Then he hauled up the gunman, read him his rights, and locked him in the rear of his cruiser. Still, he was unable to banish thoughts of the femme fatale and knew he couldn’t rest ‘til he unmasked her.

  Chapter Two

  Haley took a deep breath, sucked in her abdomen, and settled her glasses firmly on her face. Her new contacts lay tucked away in her nightstand at home. After the masquerade, she didn’t dare wear them. As much as she hated her glasses, the tinted contacts provided perfect cover. She didn’t want Cole to recognize her as his costumed crusader, not that it was likely he would anyway. He never gave her a second glance. He only had eyes for the glamorous women in the office, the ones that wore slinky, tight-fitting short dresses. As she wanted to be promoted to office manager, she always wore tailored, three-piece suits to work.

  Holding her chin high, she walked regally to her desk piled high with reports and letters to type and file. One thing about working at police headquarters—her day was never boring, even working as a secretary. The joint always bustled. Work never slacked.

  “You promised you’d come to the masquerade. It was loads of fun.” Pouting, Cindy followed Haley to her workstation. She perched on the edge of Haley’s desk next to a plate of home-baked cookies, picked up one and daintily nibbled on it. Another secretary at police headquarters, she was Haley’s best pal at work. Her short skirt hiked up her thigh as she dangled her leg over the side, her bare, pink pearl toenails pointing at the floor. Her dark hair flowed, curly and bouncy, halfway down her back.

  Haley opened her mouth to admit she’d been there when she spied Cole entering the room across the way and flirting with Robyn, who stood by the water fountain. Her mouth went dry when he winked at the sexy woman, and she decided she’d do best not to tell anyone connected to the station about the masquerade, especially not to Cindy who couldn’t be trusted not to blab everything. An ache throbbed behind her eyes and she massaged her forehead. “I-I meant to come, but I got detained.”

  “It was the party of the year.” Cindy’s glance slid to Cole, and she stared openly and admiringly. “Cole was to die for. He dressed up as Zorro and his pants were so skintight, we were taking bets when they would rip.”

  A thrill of excitement shot through Haley as she remembered how well the pants had outlined the policeman’s powerful thighs and, in particular, his big sword. Whew! She needed an ice-cold shower just thinking about it.

  “Did you dance with him?” She knew Cindy had not, that she had disappeared into a back room with Cole a good portion of the night, but she wanted to throw suspicion off herself. She bit back a wry grimace when she realized that probably no one would suspect her, since they thought her shy, quiet, and dowdy. Better to be safe than sorry. She’d be mortified if everyone knew. They’d tease her mercilessly.

  Would they tease Cindy if she’d worn the sexy Catwoman costume? Or Robyn? Or any of the other females who worked at police headquarters? No, they wouldn’t, she realized with a pang. They treated her as if she were a different species or as if she were sexless. She’d enjoyed the male drooling at the party—the stares, the compliments, and the attention. She’d even secretly enjoyed the catty comments she’d overheard whispered by female coworkers.

  “No. He danced with some slut and then they disappeared for the rest of the night.” Cindy moved closer and her voice became a stage whisper. “You should’ve seen her. She dressed up as Catwoman and her costume didn’t hide a thing. You could see every ounce of flesh. I’d never dream of wearing anything so scandalous.” She flexed her toes, showing off her perfect legs.

  Oh, oh. Haley fought the urge to pinch her stomach for imaginary tummy rolls. “Was she fat?”

  Cindy pouted. “No. She was perfect. You and I would kill to have her figure. I bet she’s a real dog under that mask, though.”

  Meow. Haley’s fingers stretched like a cat clawing, under her desk where her friend couldn’t see them.

  Cindy batted her lashes at Brad. She wouldn’t lower her leg for him to
pass the desk. “We still on for tonight, stud?”

  Haley’s ears perked up although she pretended to study a report. She watched Cole surreptitiously from under her veiled lashes.

  Cole sipped steaming coffee and then bit into a Danish.

  When he licked the icing off his lips, she longed to do it for him.

  “Don’t know if I can.” Brad possessed a boyish grin and sandy, sun-bleached hair that invariably fell across his eyes. He was cute in a boy-next-door way. Muscles rippled across his shoulders and down his arms. He was buff and tan from playing softball every night and every weekend he wasn’t on duty.

  Cindy pouted prettily and jumped to her feet, blocking his way. She shook her long hair and traced his badge with her finger. “You’re standing me up?”

  Brad closed the gap between them and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I don’t want to, sugar, but something big’s goin’ down.” He lowered his voice another notch so that Haley had to strain to hear him. “Cole and I are investigating some suspects. If our source tells us it’s going down tonight, we’ll have to stake it out.”

  “Who are they? What’d they do?” Cindy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Will you be in danger?”

  Brad puffed out his chest and squared his magnificent shoulders. “I can’t tell you specifics—but we’ll be in grave danger. It’s a top-secret mission, so don’t tell a soul.”

  Her throat constricting in fear, Haley dropped her papers and then sucked in her breath. Either Cole was in grave danger or Brad was pulling out all the stops trying to get Cindy’s empathy. If it were the second, she’d thump Brad for scaring her half to death for nothing.

  “Can you type this for me ASAP? I need it yesterday.”

  Cole’s voice startled her, making her yelp and jump, so that her chair slid out from under her and she landed on the floor in an unflattering heap. Her glasses fell off and everything blurred. Mortified, she scrambled to her knees, feeling around for her glasses, patting the floor gingerly. She was blind without them and Cole was seeing her at her absolute worst. Could she get more pathetic? “Oh, no!”