Silk, Lace & Videotape

by Joanne Rock

  Duke felt like a sucker fish with his mouth wide open and waiting for the hook. No matter how much he spouted about keeping away from the wayward society women, this particular female had the power to reel him in for as long as she wanted. “Honey, I’m happy to keep as many secrets as you care to reveal.”

  He couldn’t help it that his gaze wandered over her body. Had he really said he would never undress her with his eyes?

  She laughed and idly whipped his arm with the cloth belt of her coat. “You are a scandal waiting to happen, Detective Rawlins.”

  He wanted to still her nervous hands and shifting feet with a kiss that would render her senseless. He settled for flirting with her instead, wondering what had gotten into him that he was pursuing a woman who would be exactly all wrong for him.

  “You should talk, Ms. Matthews.” He took a step closer, observing the way she backed into the door of a parked squad car. “I’d say you were the scandal waiting to happen if I’m right about what you were wearing beneath that coat yesterday.”

  Her hands freed the belt she’d been holding and fluttered idly in front of his chest. She shot him a none-too-innocent glance. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “I thought maybe it was just wishful thinking when I caught a glimpse of stocking up around your thigh.” He didn’t dare step any closer, but he trailed his finger across her thigh in just the right spot, telling himself maybe she needed a visual to refresh her memory. “But then when I watched the video I realized exactly what you were hiding from me.”

  Amanda’s flesh tingled, trembled and tightened where Duke had touched her through her thin crepe skirt. Heat pulsed through her legs, compromising her ability to stand without wavering.

  She leaned more heavily against the police car, considering the wisdom of baiting the man but powerless to stop herself. “What do you think I was hiding?”

  His big shoulders angled over hers, drawing his chest into agonizingly touchable range. She remembered how it felt to be crushed up against his solid, unforgiving body. She wanted nothing so much as to put herself there again.

  But he didn’t touch her. He merely breathed his response into her ear. “I think you were hiding the real you.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest as if clamoring to be heard. She’d expected him to take their flirtation to the next level, to use her provocation as an excuse to kiss her. She definitely didn’t expect to be unveiled at a deeper level.

  “I—” She faltered, thinking the time had come to cut and run. Much as she would have liked a few more thought-stealing kisses, she was beginning to feel very out of her league with this man.

  “Go out with me, Amanda.” He barred her retreat with his big body and his direct approach.

  She shook her head automatically, more equipped to take on his brute strength than his brash invitation.

  “Why not?” He tipped her chin so she couldn’t avoid looking at him. “I happen to know your Saturdays are now free. Spend tomorrow with me.”

  Amanda scrolled through a mental list of excuses. But mostly, she was afraid theirs was the kind of attraction that could flame out of control with little more than a few kisses.

  “I need to attend a dinner tomorrow night,” she finally managed.

  Unfazed, Duke smiled. “Great. That means you have the afternoon to spend with me. I’ll bet an uptown girl like you hardly ever has the pleasure of venturing downtown on a Saturday.”

  A daytime date? Amanda didn’t think that would really help take the focus off sex at all. It was broad daylight now, with yellow cabs racing past and pedestrians crowding the sidewalk, and she couldn’t seem to think about anything else. “I don’t know—”

  “I bet a woman with your eye for design would love a day on Canal Street. We’ll hit all the cool vendors and then I’ll buy you an ice cream to atone for watching the video. You’ll be home in plenty of time for your dinner.”

  She had to admit it sounded like fun. Still, Amanda wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Duke. No matter how many ice-cream cones you stuffed in the man’s hand, he still generated enough heat to put Amanda in meltdown mode. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other again.”

  He leaned close to her again, curse his eyes, and shook her determination to smithereens. “The woman I saw in your video wasn’t afraid to take chances.”

  His blue gaze told her he’d studied her every move on that tape, had read into everything she’d wanted to convey about herself, and maybe a little she hadn’t meant to.

  Amanda folded her arms across her chest in a belated attempt to insert some space between them. “That woman made a big mistake.”

  “That woman wasn’t scared to go after what she wanted,” he corrected.

  “No offense, Duke, but I don’t know that I want you.”

  His knowing grin told her his years on the force had probably turned him into a walking lie detector. “What about that kiss yesterday? I’m thinking you told me something else while we were kissing each other like there was no tomorrow.”

  He had a point there.

  “Well—”

  “Why don’t we meet in Battery Park at noon? We’ll do the whole thing on neutral territory and you leave when you want to.”

  Truth be told, she didn’t have a dinner appointment tomorrow. She had nothing to do tomorrow, except maybe obsess about the next showing of her new collection. Duke Rawlins’s offer sounded like more fun than stalking around her loft getting an ulcer while she worried.

  Besides, hadn’t she wanted a little adventure in her life?

  “Okay.”

  She hadn’t been prepared for him to grab the loose ties of her coat and pull her forward, but that’s exactly what he did.

  He kissed her once with a slow but assertive sweep of his tongue then set her aside. “Excellent.”

  She couldn’t tell if that was approval for the kiss or for agreeing to the date, but she felt a smile tug at her mouth either way.

  Amanda stepped away from the police car and backed down the street. “So noon tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “And Amanda?”

  She paused.

  “Don’t forget to bring the real you.”

  DUKE ENJOYED WATCHING her walk away.

  No matter that she’d glowered at him. She’d agreed to see him again.

  He retreated into the police station once she was out of sight, carefully squelching the urge to whistle. He wanted to shout his victory from the rooftops but he wouldn’t do it for the viewing pleasure of the tenth precinct.

  Successfully dodging the idly curious cops who’d watched him walk out with Amanda, Duke navigated his way back to the media room to snag his extra copy of Amanda’s sexy tape. Soon he would destroy it. But he would lock it in his desk until after Gallagher’s sentencing came down. As much as Duke fancied himself an honorable guy for giving Amanda her original tape back, professional instincts told him to keep the backup copy just in case it contained some clue he wasn’t yet aware of.

  He slapped the tape against his thigh in a double-time rhythm as he strode back down the hallway to his desk. Prepared to delve into the remaining evidence in the Gallagher case, he halted when he saw Josh sprawled in his office chair, his boots looking quite at home on Duke’s desk.

  Duke nudged his partner’s feet off his Mets’ desk calendar while he locked Amanda’s tape into his top drawer with the other hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve been to Queens and are back already.”

  “How many hours did you think it would take?” Josh didn’t look up, but continued leafing through a sheaf of computer printouts. “Maybe you just lost track of the time while you were charming your way into bed with the mafia princess.”

  Duke’s good mood slipped a few rungs. “You got a bone to pick, Winger?”

  Josh shuffled his papers into a pile and stood. “No. Just surprised to see you hovering around Gallagher’s girlfriend out front. You sure you know what you’re getting i
nto, Rawlins?”

  Of course he didn’t know what he was getting into. He’d asked Amanda out based on gut instincts instead of logic. “Maybe not. But I’m going to have a fine time finding out.”

  Josh shook his head. “Your granddaddy ever tell you the one about ‘look before you leap’?”

  Only every other day. But he wasn’t owning up to that one. “Granddaddy was more of a ‘don’t let the grass grow under your feet’ kind of guy.” Agitated, Duke plucked up a blue stress management ball someone had given him as a gag gift and tossed it from hand to hand.

  Josh clapped him on the shoulder and stalked toward his own desk. Over his shoulder he called, “Maybe you should worry more about the grass that’ll be growing over your head when you’re six feet under, buddy. I hear those mob bosses don’t take kindly to cops who make moves on their daughters.”

  “There’s a cheery thought. Thanks, Winger.” Duke tossed his stress management ball at Josh’s retreating shoulder.

  It bounced off his oversize partner and fell to the floor.

  Damn it all, Duke didn’t feel so much like whistling now.

  6

  AMANDA GRIPPED THE rail of the barricade standing between her and the New York Harbor. Wind blew in off the water, tossing her hair about her shoulders and wreaking havoc with her long cotton skirt.

  The Staten Island Ferry sat at one end of Battery Park, the Ellis Island Ferry at the other. Amanda had arrived early to meet Duke and had already scoped out the terrain.

  He’d been correct in his assumption that she didn’t venture downtown too often. Her world had grown insular in these last few years with her relentless pursuit of her career.

  But she needed to get out more. The half hour she’d spent people watching and strolling around on her own had inspired design ideas to keep her busy for the next month.

  She stuffed some change in one of the stationary binoculars and looked out over the harbor, thinking she at least owed Duke a thank-you for coercing her into an outing. She could indulge in a small escapade today and be home before dinner. What would it hurt?

  Ducking her head to line up her eyes with the viewing windows, Amanda assured herself she could walk away from Duke today. She’d been craving adventure, but to see Duke on a regular basis would be more adventure than she could handle.

  She squinted to see a view of the harbor but the only thing she could glimpse through the eyepiece was a bright blue star.

  A sexy baritone drifted on the breeze. “Hey, gorgeous. See anything you like in there?”

  Amanda couldn’t help but smile. She peered over the binocular stand to see Duke Rawlins, his spiky hair headed in various directions, his blue T-shirt blank except for five stars in a horizontal line across it. “How could I not like a man with a five-star rating?”

  “You’re a woman with discriminating taste.” Duke tucked a stray strand of her windblown hair behind her ear and eyed her warily. “Are you sure you’re ready to hit Canal Street with me and let me junk up that tasteful sophistication of yours?”

  “You’re not going to send me home in a tourist T-shirt or anything, are you?”

  He tugged her hand to pull her forward through the park. “Only if it’s mine.”

  Amanda rather enjoyed the warmth of that strong hand around hers. Duke had a way of imparting a sense of adventure, a feeling that something fun was right around the corner.

  “You make some pretty bold statements, Detective,” she chided him, unable to dismiss thoughts of herself wrapped in Duke’s clothes.

  He drew her toward the street and hailed a cab with one wave of his long arm. “My granddaddy used to say ‘virtue is bold and goodness never fearful.’”

  She slid into the taxicab as he held the door open for her. “Your grandfather liked Shakespeare?”

  Duke frowned as he slid in beside her. “Is that Shakespeare?” He directed the cabdriver and then settled back against the seat for the ride. “Guess Granddad was more uptown than I gave him credit for. He mostly absorbed pithy sayings to bombard me with so maybe I’d remember a little of his wisdom when he wasn’t around.”

  Duke’s words resounded in his head, sinking into his skull for a change. It amazed him how the older he got, the smarter his crafty grandsire became. Damn it, all these years after the old man’s death, he still remembered the wisdom.

  “Are you close to your family?” Amanda asked, plucking at the airy cotton skirt she wore.

  As usual, she looked great in a unique way, her full, creamy-colored skirt the kind of thing girls in Elvis movies wore with saddle shoes. The yellow silk tank she wore was simple and uncomplicated however, along with the strappy yellow sandals on her feet. Pink painted toenails peeked out of her shoes, as perfect as every other inch of her.

  “I’ve got a couple of brothers I don’t see too often, but we were pretty close growing up.” The silence seemed more pronounced in light of the street cacophony all around them. The rumble of other cars’ engines filtered through the cab’s partially open windows, along with the honking that seemed to accompany every other traffic light. “My mom and dad died in a carjacking in Mexico a few weeks after I was born.”

  Amanda murmured the right sympathetic stuff that Duke never paid attention to. Sure he hated what had happened to his parents, but he’d still had a great home life—light-years better than the homes of the kids he arrested on a regular basis.

  Duke had been lucky enough to have his grandfather to keep him on the straight and narrow. Too many kids these days didn’t have anyone.

  “My mom died when I was five, but at least I had my dad. He’s always been busy with his business, but he found ways to make sure I knew he was thinking of me.” She winked at Duke across the bench seat. “I was the only girl at boarding school with my own sewing kit, a toy cappuccino maker and a beret. My father said those things would carry me through any crisis.”

  “Did they?” He couldn’t imagine that being shipped off to boarding school would make a little girl who’d lost her mother feel all that loved, but what did he know?

  She laughed. “You’d be amazed at how popular you can be at an all-girls school if you know how to make doll clothes. I was a definite hit.”

  They pulled up to Canal Street and Duke started to hand the cabdriver the fare when Amanda elbowed her way next to him with money in hand. “Here you go.”

  Duke folded her fingers over her money and edged away the offering. “Subway rides are on you. I’m getting this one.”

  “I’ll get the next cab,” Amanda corrected him. “No subways for me on the weekend. I take the trains all week so I can afford to treat myself on the weekend.”

  “Fair enough.” He jumped out of the taxi and held the door for her. He might not come from her swanky side of town, but he considered himself a gentleman, after all.

  “Wow.” Amanda halted when she got to the street and noticed the long rows of vendors outside the storefronts.

  Did it look like one big junk shop to her eyes? She probably shopped Fifth Avenue and Rodeo Drive. Then again, maybe these fashion types didn’t shop at all. For all Duke knew, maybe they just dressed themselves in the clothes they designed.

  He didn’t know what had possessed him to bring her here. Could be some inner demon had wanted him to show her in no uncertain terms that he was a downtown type of guy. His Saturdays were about listening to some good street musicians and walking around Central Park, not sipping champagne in the penthouse suite.

  “What do you think?” he finally prompted, wondering if those strappy yellow sandals were going to sprint after the departing taxicab any moment.

  Her shoes started clicking, but not in the direction he’d feared. She made a beeline for a vending stand dripping with tacky costume jewelry.

  “You have gorgeous merchandise,” she gushed to the person behind the counter, an older woman with half glasses perched on her nose who looked like she knew how to spot a sucker at twenty paces.

  Duke should have wa
rned her the best bargains went to the best hagglers, but maybe Amanda Matthews didn’t ever worry about her bank account.

  Then again, she did take the subway all week. Maybe she wasn’t living off her father’s dirty money.

  He tugged her aside with an apologetic smile to the eager vendor. “Amanda, can we have a word?”

  Begrudgingly, she relinquished a serpent pin covered in green stones and followed him a few steps away. “What?”

  He laid his arm over her shoulder, partially to enhance the privacy of their conversation, but mostly because he wanted to touch her. “You know you have to haggle with these people to get a fair price?”

  The yellow silk of her blouse fluttered against his skin, teasing his senses and urging him to linger.

  The shrewd glint in her narrowed gaze wasn’t half as inviting, however. “I’ve haggled for my father’s fabric in more countries than I can count. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

  Duke considered her words, suspecting she was still a rookie. She’d probably only been able to use her skills at sophisticated foreign trade shows where exorbitant markups might allow for a little genteel dickering. “You’ve got a highly unorthodox method, you know,” he remarked, not wanting to offend her, but not wanting her to get taken for a mint, either.

  “You mean my raving about the merchandise?” Amanda whispered, sneaking a longing look at the jewelry over her shoulder.

  At least she understood where she was going wrong. Maybe there was still hope for her. “Exactly. You’ll never get them to budge on the price if they think you really want something.”

  She wriggled out from under his arm to stand toe-to-toe with him. Gently, she poked him in the chest with one lacquered pink fingernail. “Watch and learn, Duke. I’ll put on a much better show for you today than anything you ever saw on that sordid videotape.”

  His eyes dipped to her legs of their own volition. Her teasing words affected him more than a silken stroke to an erogenous zone.

  Duke tugged her closer before she could sashay away, unwilling to let her remark pass without a suitable payback. “Honey, there’s nothing I’d like more, but do you think that’s such a good idea?” He lowered his head to speak into her ear. The soft length of her hair brushed his cheek. “I’d rather be your only audience.”