Silk, Lace & Videotape

by Joanne Rock

  An unimpeded view of one rounded, lush breast, naked and seemingly…aroused.

  A lesser man might have pressed the Pause button.

  Duke would have if he hadn’t heard an ominous pair of high heels clicking down the long hall toward the media room through the closed door.

  Damn.

  Duke leaped off the couch, remembering his eleven o’clock appointment with the stripteasing star of the “Private” videotape.

  He bolted over to the VCR and hit Eject but not before he had a chance to see one final glimpse of a half-naked Amanda Matthews before she strutted away from the camera. The blush flamed on her cheeks, her arms folded carefully over her breasts and impossibly high-heeled Barbie doll shoes hugged her feet.

  Barbie doll shoes?

  Duke had tied those same insubstantial pink heels to her feet with his own hands yesterday.

  How in the hell could he get himself under control to question Amanda when he had just guessed exactly what Miss High Society had been wearing under her conservative trench coat yesterday morning?

  Absolutely nothing.

  5

  AMANDA STRODE DOWN a long corridor of Duke’s police station wearing the fourth dress she’d tried on that morning. It had been too warm out for the full body armor she’d probably need to rein in her reaction to him, so she’d settled for a conservative pink sheathe dress and the extra layer of her trench coat.

  The din of the station house clamored around her, punctuated by ringing phones, raised voices and raucous byplay among the policemen and women. She might have located Duke sooner if it hadn’t been for the dozen officers who interrupted her progress to make sure she knew where she was going. By the time a grizzled desk sergeant offered to escort her to Duke himself, Amanda had the impression the tenth precinct didn’t receive many noncriminal visitors.

  They certainly were a courteous lot.

  She nodded at whatever the smiling sergeant was saying, too nervous about her upcoming meeting to pay attention to the man’s monologue about the police station.

  What would Duke want to ask her about? She hoped he wouldn’t continue questioning her character. It had been humiliating enough to learn her boyfriend was a criminal without some too-brash detective asking her if she did drugs. What must he think of her?

  Of course, Duke Rawlins wouldn’t have kissed her yesterday if he’d believed her to be some sort of delinquent, right?

  She gulped back her apprehension and steeled herself as her escort rapped on a closed door and then opened it partway.

  She heard the man call into the room. “Rawlins, I’ve got a young lady out here looking for you.” The sergeant nodded and then turned to Amanda. “He’s in here. Nice to meet you, Ms. Matthews.”

  Amanda reciprocated the compliment, wishing she could be questioned by a nice, neutral third party like the sergeant instead of a flashy detective who seemed oblivious to the concept of personal boundaries. Still, she nodded her thanks and stepped inside the room.

  Her first thought was that they were all alone—something she definitely hadn’t counted on. Her second thought centered on her interrogator and the fact that he looked at her with predatory, knowing eyes. Amanda shivered, distracting herself by peering around the room.

  A dated sofa set dominated the small space. A coffee table lurked in the middle covered with newspapers and a blank legal pad. Shelves full of reference materials ringed the walls except for the wall that contained a window. Duke stood at the window now, opening the blinds to flood the room with late morning sun.

  The light helped alleviate the sense of intimacy, but it also seemed to heighten her awareness and sharpen her perception of Duke now that she could see him clearly.

  He wore a gray T-shirt with a blue and silver star emblazoned across his chest. A logo loomed underneath the image and the design seemed to be a team shirt of some sort, but Amanda couldn’t help but note the recurring theme in his wardrobe.

  No matter what Lexi said, however, the man did not render her starry-eyed. A little hot under the merry widow, maybe, but not starry-eyed.

  Oh God. Did she really just think that?

  “Good morning.” Duke greeted her in a husky voice that made her wonder what it would be like to hear those words across a pillow instead of across a shabby interrogation room.

  “Hi.” Amanda forced herself to meet his gaze, no matter how much it scorched right through her. She would answer his questions and then she would bolt. She’d had enough adventure yesterday to last her for at least a few years. She didn’t need the star-spangled hotshot to lead her further astray. When she wasn’t busy dating criminals or making illicit home videos, she had a fledgling business to run, after all.

  “Can I take your coat?”

  His question seemed innocuous enough, but that sexy rasp in his voice unnerved her.

  “No, thanks.” The temperature had already soared in the room, but Amanda opted to keep her coat for security’s sake. Once she started shedding clothes around this man, there was no telling when she might stop.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Duke’s gaze tripped down her body, her simple crepe dress with its ankle-grazing hem revealed by her open coat. Amanda fidgeted under his scrutiny.

  “Have a seat,” he offered, moving around the furniture to gesture toward the couch. He shuffled a stack of things on the coffee table, his legal pad and maybe a book underneath it, then shoved aside the TV/VCR cart someone had pulled right up to the seating area.

  They both took a seat then and stared at each other for one awkward moment. Amanda had promised herself she would not think about that kiss while in his presence, but in that heated exchange of glances she found her gaze darting toward his lips. His mouth had been a sensual discovery for her, nothing like what she’d ever experienced before.

  Duke cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the legal pad. “I only have a couple of questions for you, Amanda, so I’ll try to make this quick.”

  Giving herself a mental shake, Amanda sat up straighter, needing to get this final encounter out of the way. She had a safe life to return to, after all. “I’m ready.”

  His blue eyes locked on hers. “Did you have an intimate relationship with Gallagher?”

  She flew off the couch, utterly unsettled, and maybe even outraged. “What kind of question is that?”

  He remained in his seat. “A professional one, Amanda. I have a reason for asking, which I’ll get around to in a minute. For now, could you please answer the question?” His voice remained cool and aloof, lending credence to his words. “And it’s important you be honest with me on this.”

  The last comment nettled. He questioned her integrity?

  “No, I was not intimate with Victor.” Her cheeks burned at the admission. Not that she was necessarily embarrassed for Duke to learn as much, but just that they would be discussing such a thing at all. As an afterthought, she added, “But I was working on it.”

  Duke’s mouth seemed to fall open of its own accord, but it took him a moment to find a response. “You were working on it?”

  She’d be damned if she would explain any more than that, so she offered him a curt nod.

  He shook his head, his eyes skimming every inch of her. “I wouldn’t think a woman like you would have to work at it too hard, Amanda.”

  His veiled compliment ignited a surge of feminine pride. Why did this presumptuous badge-wielding renegade have the power to make her feel outrageously sexy with just one comment? She’d pranced around a runway in little more than her garters yesterday before she went over to Victor’s and the experience hadn’t been nearly as titillating as Duke’s lone observation.

  While Amanda struggled to find a graceful way to move the conversation forward, Duke pulled something out from under his legal pad and passed it across the coffee table to her. “Tell me, Amanda, did you use this to convince him to cross the line?”

  Still reeling from a heady dose of sexual attraction, Amanda’s eyes fluttered over th
e object in his hand for a moment before realizing what he was trying to hand her.

  One videotape labeled “Private.”

  Amanda might have been embarrassed if she hadn’t been so consumed by righteous indignation. The blue-eyed traitor had her secret weapon all along.

  “How dare you!” Amanda snatched the world’s lone recording of her amateurish attempt at a striptease out of Duke’s hand. “I thought you said you didn’t find anything of mine in Victor’s apartment?” She allowed her words to convey all the betrayal she felt.

  “Did I say that?” He squinted his eyes as if genuinely attempting to recall his words. “Well I sure as hell didn’t suspect this was yours since you told me you lost a date book and not a videotape.”

  Her lie chastened her somewhat, because she truly hadn’t wanted to lie to a police detective, but this was still his fault. “I could hardly tell you the truth.”

  “I don’t care for being lied to, Amanda,” his gaze was stark and serious for all of a millisecond before his blue eyes scorched her with their heat. “But I can’t exactly say I was disappointed with what I discovered because you lied.”

  Her heart started a slow thump of dread, realizing he had probably watched her shameless show. Winging a quick prayer her secret hadn’t been fully revealed, Amanda lifted the video to study the length of tape on each reel. Three quarters of the tape rested in the right-hand widow of the cassette, indicating the viewer had indeed watched the whole thing.

  Including the accidental peep show at the end.

  Amanda felt the steam build between her ears, but she couldn’t deny the curious heat pricking along the rest of her, too. Duke Rawlins had seen her practically naked.

  She blinked quickly, willing away images of Duke watching her on-screen. She didn’t want to know what he thought of her show. Did she? Then why did the thought of him seeing her in the buff make her blood simmer in her veins?

  This was not good.

  Squelching all thoughts of arousal she jammed the tape in her trench coat pocket, back where it belonged. “You only had to look at five seconds worth of footage on this tape to figure out it belonged to me.”

  Duke flashed her an unrepentant grin. “Honey, it only took five seconds worth of footage to glue me to my chair.”

  Amanda’s pulse jumped into overdrive. She’d tried to brainwash herself on the cab ride to the station this morning with the “I’m not going to get too close to Duke Rawlins” mantra. But here she was, getting sucked in by that blue-eyed charm and those delicious pecs all over again.

  She fought off his seductive pull by arguing with him. “You didn’t need to move, all you needed to do was click the remote. And don’t even tell me you didn’t have it available, because from what I can gather, men aren’t capable of watching television without the remote control in hand.”

  He leaned across the table and lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “Once I got turned on, I couldn’t turn it off.”

  Amanda had to sit on her hands to keep from fanning herself. The man was too much, too hot, too soon. Too bad she found herself wrapped up in that throaty whisper, ready to hear more about his reaction to her tape.

  If he wanted to flirt with her, who was she to refuse? Maybe it was time she hauled out the real Amanda.

  Duke watched a confusing array of emotion pass through Amanda’s eyes and tried to calculate her response. He wasn’t sure how far he could push her, and he didn’t want her to bolt.

  But how could he resist flirting with her just a little? Her striptease still scorched through his memory, superimposing itself across the present to tease and tempt him. Images of her creamy thighs sheathed in sheer pink stockings threatened to obliterate his awareness of the police station and the damn questioning.

  The questioning.

  Duke sat up straighter, needing to put this meeting behind him. Or at least get his questions answered so he could move on to exploring other, more interesting terrain with Ms. Matthews.

  The only thing he really cared about investigating right now was what Amanda might be wearing beneath her clothes today. But Duke Rawlins prided himself on his ability not to get distracted on the job.

  Yeah, right.

  He cleared his throat and scrambled for a stabilizing breath of air. “So you never answered my question.”

  Amanda reached her hand underneath her long hair and tossed it over one shoulder. “There was a question in there? I thought you were trying to torment me with reminders that you’ve watched my…show.”

  Torment was definitely not on his list of things to do with this woman if he ever got the chance. But if he didn’t get this questioning back on semiprofessional footing, he’d be in trouble. “I meant my earlier question. Did you bring this tape to Gallagher’s hoping to—” He searched for a way to frame the question. “—foster an intimate relationship?”

  She sat up straighter. Her eyes narrowed. “Does this question have anything to do with police business?”

  “If you didn’t have an intimate relationship with Gallagher, it makes me less inclined to think you were associated with his crimes.” He wouldn’t have revealed as much if he wasn’t pretty damn sure his instincts were correct. But once he’d recalled discovering the video in her chair, it only made sense that she’d just brought it over that day. Especially in light of the intriguing outfit he was positive she’d been wearing under her trench coat.

  Amanda frowned. “I made the video yesterday morning and brought it to his house hoping to incite—”

  She paused so long, Duke couldn’t restrain himself.

  “Lust?” he prompted.

  She cast him a reproving glare. “Male interest. But I obviously needn’t have bothered as Victor was spending all his male interest elsewhere.”

  Satisfaction rolled over Duke like a sunny day. By opting to arrest Vic yesterday, he’d not only put away a criminal, he’d saved Amanda the indignation of wasting her considerable charms on an unworthy man. He mentally chalked up two stars for that particular good deed.

  “Amanda, I have no doubt Gallagher would have been very ‘male interested’ in your video, but between you and me, I’m glad he never got to see it.” Maybe it wasn’t exactly a professional comment. But this wasn’t exactly a formal questioning anyway.

  He was gratified to see a little of the starch fade from her spine.

  She flashed him a conspiratorial smile that made him feel like a damn hero. “Me, too. I’m definitely glad Mr. Cheating Silk Suit never got so much as a glimpse of me.” In a familiar gesture, she tugged her coat a bit closer. “Are we done talking about him?”

  Duke didn’t really want to talk about her ex-boyfriend or the investigation, either. Especially given that Amanda could still be a part of a bigger crime picture. She seemed less guilty now that he’d realized she wasn’t as close to Gallagher as he’d originally thought. Then again, she had proven she wasn’t afraid to lie to a cop to save her own skin.

  He nodded. “I am hoping you’ll testify for me if I need you to, however.”

  “I don’t know anything about him smuggling drugs,” she protested.

  “No, but you can tell a judge all about how he tried to get a jump on knowing what fabrics to send to your father. He shipped the drugs in with the bolts of material, you know.” Would she try to extract herself from acting as a witness? Maybe her father wouldn’t like her ratting out one of his cohorts.

  Amanda nodded. “I’d be happy to testify.”

  Duke’s respect for her jumped another notch, but now that they’d sewn up business details, he had to admit he mourned the loss of the innuendo-laden conversation they had indulged in earlier.

  He didn’t want to get involved with another woman who ran in high-society circles, but memories of Amanda’s deliciously amateur striptease still teased him. He’d never forget the slow seduction of her zipper sliding downward, the moment the black satin pooled at her feet.

  Maybe that’s why words started falling off his tongue
before he could halt them. “Then I guess we’re all set here. Can I walk you out?”

  Rising from the shabby media-room couch, Amanda looked wary, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  Duke guided her out of the building, ignoring the blatant attempts of his co-workers angling for an introduction. He wasn’t about to share his last few minutes with Amanda.

  He held the front door for her, stepping out into the warm spring sunlight. Squad cars lined up out front, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. For now, the street was quiet, however, and Duke found himself steering her toward one of the parked cars.

  For reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Amanda yet. The permanent replay of her video in his mind definitely didn’t help. He would not stoop so low as to undress her with his eyes, but could he help it if he had a full-color image of her gartered thighs and bare breasts tattooed on the back of his eyelids?

  As if reading his mind, Amanda patted the steamy video in her pocket. “Thanks for returning this to me.”

  He’d have to come up with a whopper of an excuse for the missing evidence, but it would be worth the smile on her face. The need to kiss her again, to taste the lips that could make him forget his own name, overwhelmed him. “No problem. I really did need to watch it in case it contained other evidence.”

  The wind lifted a strand of her hair to wave like a flag across her cheek. Amanda absently tucked it behind her ear. “It’s okay. I would have honestly been more upset if you hadn’t found this at Victor’s and he’d discovered it himself. I would be mortified to have him see how close I’d come to—you know—with him.” She twisted and twirled the belt that dangled from her coat.

  Warmth unfurled in Duke’s chest along with a surge of protectiveness. “Does that mean I’m forgiven for indulging in your show?”

  The bright sunlight showed a delicate pink blush on Amanda’s cheeks. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief as she whipped her coat’s belt in a little circle like a Ferris wheel at her waist. “Do you promise not to tell?”