Victor blinked rapidly at her description. “Well, I don't know which part of that was more insulting?”
Laughter bubbled from her. “Yeah, chauvinistic against women with a heavy-handed, law breaking way of being a cop. Insulting everyone and swaggering around with a puffed up ego!” She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the stool.
“Nah, it was the part about be being a nice guy that really smarted. “He raised a comical brow at her.
Valentine laughed even harder and she did, in fact, slide all the way off the stool.
He caught her and hauled her up.
Her eyes met his and her laughter halted.
Victor gazed into her eyes.
“And you’re a great kisser.”
“Yeah?” He studied her lips.
She nodded her head. “What else are you good at?” She leaned in and kissed him.
The tall detective pulled her close, kissing her hard and just like before, the kiss elicited a feeling like she’d never experienced with anyone else. A tingle ran from her lips along her neck and down through her body with a pronounced adrenaline rush. She’d never received such a seductive power from a kiss before.
Victor set her away and looked into her eyes. “Killing.”
She tilted her head back. “What?”
“You asked what else.” He looked angry.
“But if you and I—?”
“It would kill you.” His eyes glowed at her.
“Kill me?” A hiccup slipped out. “If you screwed me? Talk about an enormous ego!” Her laughter grew. “Nobody’s that good in bed!”
The humored cop swung her up into his arms and moved out of the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah that's what I meant, all right.”
Valentine cuddled her face to his neck. “Mmm, and you smell so wonderful.”
“Yeah, I think you do too.” He dropped her onto the brass bed.
The air left her lungs as she bounced across the soft mattress and gazed up at him. “So?” she urged.
“What?”
She lifted her fingers to her lips and touched the tender spots from where he’d kissed her. “You said—if you were a full beast?”
Victor leaned down closer.
Anticipation spurred through her.
“You’re drunk.” He yanked the blanket over her.
At his cold tone, she flinched with a sting of rejection. “Yeah, I must be loaded to have thought you were good looking and attractive!”
“Good night, Sweet Valentine!” He headed for the door.
“And fuck that Sweet Valentine shit, you creep!” she retorted to his back.
Victor chuckled and shut the door.
“He turned me down?” She let out a silly giggle. “Chicken shit.” She sighed heavily while the room spun above her. “The ecstasy would kill me, eh?” Valentine remembered the glorious tingle from his kiss and shut her eyes. Yeah, maybe it would at that.
~* * * *~
Valentine opened her eyes and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling while bright sunlight streamed into the room. Where the hell am I? She sat upright and grabbed her sore head. “Oh!” She winced with the horrific throbbing and heard a chortle as she swerved her stunned gaze over. Payne?
He tilted his dark head at her and raised a cup. “Coffee?”
She grabbed the cup gingerly and peered down. She wore a huge pajama shirt and stared over at him.
Victor lifted his brows and shrugged.
“What happened last night?” she asked.
“Fuzzy about it, are we?”
“We were in the kitchen and you,” she halted. “Turned into a...” Her mouth dried up with the image.
“Turned into a what?”
“I remember taking whiskey shots and...” She swallowed heavily.
“And, then you said how great I smelled, what a great kisser I was and I gave you my pajamas.” He gave her a playful wink.
Valentine gasped with panic and the coffee sloshed.
“Be careful there, it's,” he paused with emphasis. “Pretty fucking hot.”
“You are not saying—I,” she gulped. “That we...?”
Victor stood from the bed. “Oh no, now we’re having the morning after regret?” He sighed heavily.
The leading remark caused another horrified gasp as Valentine’s head pounded with a miserable drum beat effect. “I wouldn’t sleep with a brutish self-serving egomaniac like you!”
A solemn expression appeared on his face. “Well, now that’s not a very nice thing to say. I am truly hurt.”
“Ooh!” she seethed. “You got me drunk and then—”
“My, my we are the pitiful victim!”
She gazed dazedly into her coffee cup. “I don't do one night stands.”
“No, but your trick handstands were very entertaining,” he teased
Her head flew up. “You are so making this up!”
“Yeah?” He sat on the bed. “So, then how come I know about the little rose, eh?”
She sucked her breath in at the implication. “You low down bastard!”
“Aww, don't be like that, dear.” He gave out a sad sigh.
Valentine dropped her shocked gaze back to her coffee cup while her chest huffed and puffed with rage.
“Drink your coffee while it’s hot, sweet lips.”
Her glinting gaze shot up, she grasped the cup and threw it into his face.
Victor jerked his head back and glared at her.
She froze while she watched him wipe his face with the sheet.
He stood from the bed and grabbed her clothes from the chair. “Put your clothes on, hussy!”
Her mouth dropped open at the insult. Her clothes hit her full in the face and she yanked the blouse down.
“Unless...you need help dressing too?” Innuendo purred in his tone.
Valentine trembled with fury and self-loathing.
“Come on, snap it up. We gotta lead!” he called as he went to the door.
A horrified shame washed over her as she watched the door close. Oh man, I slept with that insufferable son of a bitch? She shook her head and scooted to the edge to tug her slacks on. I’ll never get over the humiliation from this. She yanked the pajama top off and peered down at the little red rose on her breast. And I’ll never get through paying for the head-shrinking bill either.
“Are you coming?” His rumbling voice bellowed from the hall.
Valentine’s hands shook as she buttoned her blouse with shaky fingers. What a fucking lowlife, getting me sauced and... She froze and remembered falling asleep, alone. Of all the lowdown things to pull!
She stood and tucked her shirt into her slacks. Well, two can play at who’s the hussy game! “Keep your pants on, maggot!” she yelled out while she hunted for her shoes and heard his wicked chuckle from the hallway. She released an aggravated sigh while hastily tugging the shoe onto her foot as she rolled her eyes with revulsion.
~* * * *~
After another adventure in wildly dangerous stunt driving through the crowded streets of LA, Victor maneuvered the Boss up to a small Cul-de-sac and came to a screeching halt at the curb.
Valentine didn’t utter a word the entire trip. I won’t give him the satisfaction! But, before this case is through? He’ll want me bad and I will turn and say, ‘Oh? Well, we did it already, so what's the point?’ She quietly smirked at the imagined scene and stared up at the building. Gracen apartments.
“You’re not paying attention again, Sweet—”
“Use that name again and you will be minus a set!” she seethed.
“My, my, up on the wrong side of the shot glass this morning!” He got out of the car.
Valentine fought the urge to scream. Okay, just stick to the case for now and he can just go fuck him...
“Hello?” Victor called back to her from the sidewalk.
She got out of the car and rushed to catch him at the stairs.
“It’s five flights, Sweet V.” He kept climbing.
Sweet V didn’t r
eply, as she envisioned herself dumping him head first from the top of these very stairs.
After a long climb, Victor stopped in front of one of the doors. He reached into his jacket for his holstered gun.
Instinctively, she reached inside her jacket for her weapon. I don't have mine.
He pulled the forty-five from his coat pocket. “You dropped it,” he whispered low and knocked on the door.
Her brow furrowed at him as she took the gun. How in earth did he get my gun?
They both stepped to the side and held their weapons ready.
“Yes?” A soft voice came from the other side of the door.
“Miss Green?” he called out.
A long silence stretched out from the other side.
Valentine recognized the dancer’s voice as they both waited
“Go away!” the woman pleaded from inside the apartment.
Afraid not, but we can get a warrant if you want?” Payne winked at Valentine.
After another long hush, the door opened a crack the chain lock in place. “I don't know anything!” she whispered out through the space.
Victor’s body appeared to go rigid. “Who hurt you?”
“What?” she gasped.
He hit the door with his shoulder, the chain snapped and he moved inside.
Valentine came in behind him.
He held the hysterical girl and gently patted her back.
“I told her—I didn't talk!” Tiffany’s tear filled gaze rose to see Valentine. She leapt away from him and sprinted through the hall.
“She’s cut up and terrified,” Victor explained.
They heard a splintering crash and rushed down the hall. The door stood flung open, the room empty.
Payne moved to the open window and peered down. “Now, why did she go and do that?”
Valentine stepped closer and sighed at the sight of the dancer's broken body lying on the parking lot pavement. “She thought I was...”
“That you were...who?”
She turned away and pulled out her cell.
“Who?” he repeated.
Valentine called the location in and listened for a moment. “Yeah right, okay.” She flipped the phone closed.
He watched her face and waited. “You'd better be telling me what the hell is up.”
“I can't prove it and I don't know if I want to.” She looked around the room for any clues.
“We got dead, sliced and diced corpses piling up around us, Valentine!”
She flinched. “I know that!”
Victor studied her face.
“Take me home,” she ordered.
“Now, wait just a damn minute!”
“I’ll show you, okay?” She made her way to the door. “Are you coming?” she called in a gruff imitation of his voice as she looked over at him from the doorway.
Victor shook his head and followed her out.
~* * * *~
Valentine swung her apartment door open and reached for the wall switch.
Victor grabbed her hand and tugged her back. “Shhh.” He mouthed and stepped into the darkened apartment.
Baffled, she stood back. He never took out his gun! She heard a startling crash, pulled her gun out and went in. She could hear all kinds of loud booming bumps and the clamoring sound of breaking glass, as she stepped carefully through the front hall.
The light switch popped on and Victor stood next to the wall by the kitchen, his face bloody.
She gasped and swung her suspicious gaze around.
“Gone,” he whispered with a wince. “You’d better tell me everything and now.”
Valentine took a defensive step back.
“Now, Valentine!” He was in her face before she even blinked.
“I have surveillance videos—” she halted while she gawked around at her trashed apartment. “Fuck. What the hell happened here?”
“What videos?”
Valentine dropped her gaze, her desk sat lopsided on its side. “My—”
He grabbed her up. “We’re not gonna dance anymore, Marla!”
Her eyes swung up as she stared at his blood-smeared face. “So, now you know my name?”
Victor ignored the question. “What tapes and how in the fuck do you know another—?” He winced and raised his hands to the scratches on his face.
“Why the hell didn't you use your gun?” she asked.
“It wouldn't have helped.”
“You’re hurt.” She raised her hand toward his injured face.
“Yeah, it’s happened once or twice in the last hundred...” Victor released a loud aggravated breath. “Never mind. What videos?”
Without giving an answer, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth. She turned on the faucet as he stood just behind her. Turning, she bumped into him. “Stop hugging my ass, will ya?” She lifted the dampened rag to his face.
He grabbed her wrists. “Answers.”
“Okay, okay! Early in the case, I went to the three scenes and got security camera videos—one from the club, one from a hotel lobby and one from a residence.”
“Yeah, and?” he urged.
“I’m on all of them.”
“What do you mean?”
Valentine shook his hands off and lifted the cloth to the mean looking scratches. “They were all well before the murders.”
“Ouch!” he whined at her ministrations.
“The Hurt Legend is a big baby!” she snickered.
“I’m just not used to pain.”
She met his eyes. “Yeah, but you sure dish it out enough, don't you?” she taunted. “Aww, these will heal,” she paused as they healed instantly. “Quickly?”
With an irritated huff, he jerked his face away from her hands. “It wouldn’t have taken five fucking minutes for healing, if it been a human who attacked me.”
“Human?” She drew in a breath.
Victor turned to look around. “So, where did you keep these tapes?”
“So, the part about the gargoyle–thing was–” she stuttered at the realization. She reeled with shock from her memory of last night—it wasn’t just a drunken hallucination. So, he did crush her gun before and he'd morphed to a towering giant in front of her!
He ignored her and searched through a pile of papers scattered on the floor. “Where, Valentine?”
At his booming question, she shook her head. “Um, in the desk.” She walked over to the fallen piece of furniture where she kept everything important to her work. “In the locked drawer.” Ripped in three pieces, the splintered drawer lay empty.
“So, where are the earrings?” He sighed from behind her.
She spun around. “You think I’m...?”
“I don't know what to think!”
“They’re in my room in the jewelry box on my nightstand,” she informed him in a dull tone.
He turned away and went down the hall.
Valentine spanned the room, revolted by the haphazard and careless destruction of her personal belongings. “I need to call this in.” She took out her cell.
“You’d better not,” he warned from the hall entrance.
She looked over at him.
He lifted an earring. “There’s only one.” He reached into his jacket and raised the glittery star shaped trinkets together.
“So, what are you saying?”
Victor walked over and steered her to the door. “We need to go.”
“But, my apartment!”
“Leave it.” He pushed her out and walked ahead along the steps.
She followed in a distracted haze
“We have two days to find her.” He opened the car door.
Her eyes met his over the car roof. “Her?”
“I don't suspect you, but others will. You’re being neatly framed, my Sweet Valentine.” He got in the car.
“What the hell?” She opened the door and got in.
With his usual wild, erratic driving, he swerved the Boss out onto the street. “We’re going to pull surve
illance tonight, so guess what we need?”
Valentine swiveled her startled gaze over to see his wicked smile and she grabbed onto the dash as her stomach jolted with nervous flip-flops.
The Mustang ripped through the streets and he gave her a sly grin. “It’s a real emergency when a beast is hungry, you know?” He reached through the window with one hand and plunked the magnetic light onto the roof.
~* * * *~
The Door Club, Santa Monica
They sat in the red Mustang and ate the delicious Asian ambrosia as Payne called it. Finally, Valentine set her container down with a gratified sigh.
He handed her a soda. “No wine or whiskey tonight, my Sweet—”
She snatched the can from his grasp with a snarl.
“Yeah, I guess I can't call you that anymore.” He chuckled at her hostile expression.
Valentine snapped opened the coke. “Like you ever should’ve in the first fucking place. So how did you find out?”
He sipped at his soda. “I am a detective, my dear,” he answered with mocking sarcasm. “Marla Rose Valentine and it does explain the cute little tattoo.”
“Taking advantage while I was drunk!” she huffed.
“I wanted to take full advantage, but...” he paused with a shrug and his gaze moved to the street. “Marla Rose, twenty seven years old, no husband, and no boyfriend. An orphan adopted by Truman Valentine the wealthy king of architecture—”
“Hey! What did you do, run an FBI report on me?” She gulped with insulted astonishment. “You checked me, like a perp?”
“Now, just be fair about this...you took evidence, Tiffany knew you and you did act as if you were hiding something.” He gazed over at her. “A good cop would do what?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she replied with a defeated tone and looked over at the sidewalk. “Okay, then you need be fair.”
“Huh?”
“Tell me about the Payne legend.”
“Not much to tell.”
She snickered and tipped her soda up. “Yeah right, fifty perps a year, newspaper headlines and...the gargoyle Twilight Zone shit.”
Victor shrugged. “Came to the force five years ago, one Victor Malias Payne, and did it part time while I ran the family empire until...”
“Until?” Her curious gaze swiveled over.
He shook his head. “It got my blood going, you know? And for fairness sake? I won't tell you my real age!” he smirked. “I have a brother who's a homicide cop and well, I was bored to tears while my brothers flew around and experienced real life.” He stopped talking and studied the street for a long moment. “Wait a minute.” He stared at the club entrance. “There,” he growled low.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 196
