Green Eyed Temptation (Halos & Horns

by Lori Leger

  “My lineage is Creole, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. That would be a mixture of Spanish, Native American, French, and a little Haitian. Tanner, are you about ready to go? I’d really like to get some shopping in at the Galleria. I hear Anne Fontaine calling out to me.” She turned to somberly face his parents. “It was lovely to meet both of you.” Then she turned and walked toward the door they’d come in through earlier.

  Tanner tossed one last look at his parents and spoke in a voice filled with icy angriness. “If you two can’t treat a friend of mine with more respect than this, you can both kiss my lily white ass.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  Angelique shot a glance in Tanner’s direction as they both buckled their seat belts. She felt terrible for him as she watched his jaw clench and unclench furiously.

  “It’s no big deal, you know, Tanner.”

  He held up a hand to stop her and shook his head. It took several moments for him to calm down enough to speak. When he did, it wasn’t pretty.

  “Son of a bitch!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. He cursed again—then once more, before finally working up the nerve to speak to her.

  “Angel. I am so damned sorry you had to hear that. I’m sorry I brought you here.” He turned and pointed at her. “And don’t you dare make excuses for those imbeciles!”

  She reached out slowly and covered his hand before gently lowering it to the seat. “When you come from a background like mine, you get used to hearing people say things like that. It’s okay, though, because thanks to a year of therapy, I know I’m just as good as they are.”

  “Just as good?” he scoffed. “Hell, you surpassed them the millisecond you were conceived.” He started the car and threw it into reverse then backed quickly out to the very end of the driveway before stopping. He sat in stony silence for a minute before he let out a huff of laughter.

  “You know, I just realized something, Angel.”

  “What’s that?”

  He shook his head sadly. “I am truly a product of my parents’ high opinions of themselves. I turned out just as selfish, vain, and arrogant as they raised me to be.”

  Angelique reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “You’re not like them.”

  “I am, in more ways than you know. If you don’t believe that, ask Red and Tiffany,” he snorted.

  She studied him silently. “Maybe you were, but not anymore. I overheard what you told them before I spoke up. You’re a good man, and a good friend to me.”

  Tanner lowered his head shamefully then raised her hand to his mouth and gave it a soft as silk kiss. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I swear to God, Angel, from this day on, I’ll be the best friend you’ve ever had. I only ask one thing from you in return.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your help in making me the best man I can be.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “Oh hell, Tanner, Is that all? I thought you were going to ask me to save the rain forest or something like that.” She leaned over to give him a big hug and whispered in his ear. “This’ll be the easiest job I’ve ever had.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon cruising one store after the other in the huge Galleria shopping center. Tanner went straight to Armani to get fitted for a new suit. Angelique walked over to the Coach boutique, where she hit some excellent sales and purchased a bag and several accessories. Still waiting on Tanner to finish, she looked in at the black and white fashions of Anne Fontaine and didn’t see a thing she liked, even if she could have afforded something from there, which she couldn’t. She walked over to Bottega Veneta to drool over an eight hundred dollar pair of boots and a three thousand dollar handbag. Deciding she’d tortured herself enough, she ventured over to Ann Taylor where she spent another three hundred dollars on several mix and match sale items to add to her working wardrobe. The classic business styles with a feminine touch, along with the reasonable prices, were exactly what she was looking for. Loaded down with bags, she left the store and lucked out on another sale at Talbots—a two hundred dollar pair of leather boots for less than fifty bucks. Feeling like she’d hit the veritable jackpot, as well as extremely hungry, she called Tanner’s phone and they met up at Ninfa’s for lunch.

  He walked toward her to relieve her of her bags and gave a low whistle. “Looks like you racked up!”

  She beamed up at him. “I got about two thousand dollars of clothes and accessories here for about five hundred. How’d you do?” she asked, noticing his empty arms.

  “They’re altering the hem on my slacks for me. I’ll be able to pick them up in another two hours. Can we wait or do you need to get back sooner?”

  “Me, stuck in the middle of a huge mall full of fantastic deals? I may never recover from such a torturous afternoon.”

  He laughed as the waitress escorted them to a booth.

  “So, what else did you plan to buy besides the suits?” She eyed him critically.

  He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned to buy much of anything else. My casual wardrobe is pretty complete as far as I’m concerned.”

  She took a sip of water and picked up her menu, trying not to comment, though she felt his gaze on her.

  “Okay, what the hell was that about? Spit it out, Angel.”

  She lowered the menu. “It’s just that you come off as a little aristocratic at times. I think a few adjustments to your wardrobe would make you seem less stuffy and arrogant.” She gave him a slight shrug. “That’s just my opinion, of course.”

  Tanner relaxed then leaned back against his seat. “Are you saying I just spent two thousand dollars on suits I can’t wear?”

  “Of course not; every man needs a couple of good suits, and I’m sure you look fantastic in your Giorgio Armani’s,” she replied. “I’m just saying maybe you should also invest in a truly casual style that makes you seem more—approachable—to people.”

  He crossed his arms and gave her a crooked grin. “Are you telling me you’re intimidated by my Brooks Brothers slacks?”

  Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Do you even own a pair of jeans?” She continued quickly as he opened his mouth to interrupt her. “And I’m not talking about a hundred and fifty dollar a pair Brooks Brother five pocket jeans.”

  He emitted a huff in defeat. “I guess I don’t, then.”

  “Never underestimate the appeal of a pair of good fitting, faded jeans on a man, along with a pair of high quality boots,” she insisted.

  Tanner sat up, suddenly looking tense. “You’re not going to take me to one of those second hand stores to buy somebody’s old jeans that are broken in, are you?”

  She burst into laughter. “Of course not.”

  He relaxed visibly. “Good, because I draw the line at wearing a pair of pants that some other guys ass has been in. I don’t care how approachable I’d look.”

  Angelique giggled again. “You’re a trip Tanner.” She glanced at her menu and spoke to the waiter who’d arrived to take their order. “I’d like the tortilla soup and a salad.”

  Tanner handed the man his menu. “Beef fajita’s and uno cerveza, pour favour…Dos Equis amber. How about a margarita, Angel?” he suggested.

  “I guess I could indulge myself since you’re doing the driving,” she admitted. “On the rocks and no salt, please.”

  They exchanged small talk until the waiter appeared with the requested margarita. Angelique thanked him then took a sip. “Mm, that’s good.”

  Tanner sat back and watched her. “So, where do you suggest I buy this casual wardrobe to express the new me?”

  She took another sip then set down her drink. “Do you trust me?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered, giving her a nod. “You seem to have very good taste, even on your limited budget. I know I can count on you to redress me to your satisfaction.”

  “Not just to my satisfaction, Tanner; we have to find clothes that you feel comfortable wearing, as well as a style that will enhance your masculinity without making yo
u seem like such a preppie rich boy.”

  Tanner winced at her words. “Don’t hold back, Angel. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  She gave a low chuckle. “Relax, it’s not like I’m asking you to get rid of your entire wardrobe. I’ve seen you in some nice polo shirts and dress shirts you could dress down with a pair of jeans.”

  “Do you have a specific shop in mind?”

  She sent him a mysterious smile along with a wink. “As a matter of fact I do.”

  Angelique’s shoes hit the floorboard of Tanner’s Lexus. She stared out the window at the passing landscape of I-10 eastbound and rubbed her feet. “I love shopping, but the older I get, the worse it is on my feet.” She reclined the comfortable leather seat of the Lexus and looked over at the driver. “So, how do you feel about the new additions to your wardrobe?”

  Tanner signaled to shift lanes then glanced back at the bags filling the rear seat, some of which contained several pairs of something he thought he’d never wear; Wrangler and Levi jeans. “I have to admit, Angel, when we walked into that place I was ready to dislike anything you picked out for me. They are comfortable, but I’m not sure if they’re me.”

  “They’re the new you, remember? Trust me.”

  He looked over at her and grimaced. “I do trust you, but you need to understand what you’re dealing with, here. I’m a professional man, and my wardrobe has to portray that.”

  Angelique laughed. “Jeeze, I’m not asking you to show up at a Mardi Gras ball dressed in overalls and a straw hat, Tanner. Red McAllister is a professional man and he mixes jeans in with his wardrobe.”

  Tanner rolled his eyes. “Red owns a dance club. I’m a surgeon.”

  She clasped her hands, affecting a southern belle accent. “And you’re a brain surgeon too. Oh my, how could I have forgotten?”

  “You really are a shit, you know that?” He shook his head as she dissolved into laughter.

  “Red has owned many businesses, Tanner. All of them very profitable. He is a tremendously successful businessman and probably worth twice what you are. Sheesh!” she said. “Not only were you raised to think you were better than everyone else, but you’re also suffering from the God syndrome.”

  He started to say something, but clamped down on his jaw, instead.

  Angelique laughed again. “You’re not even going to try to deny it, are you?”

  He gave her a shrug. “Tiffany used to accuse me of that all the time. I can’t help it if I’m good at what I do.”

  “So was the heart surgeon I used to date a couple of years ago,” she said smugly, “but at least he didn’t have a problem wearing jeans.”

  “And yet you’re not with him anymore,” he smirked.

  She shook her head. “He couldn’t accept it when I told him I could only worship one God at a time.” She sent him a scathing look. “Besides, Tiffany’s the best at what she does, too, and people just don’t come any sweeter than her.”

  “I can be sweet,” he said.

  “You can be a pain in the ass,” she scoffed before shaking her head. “Hey, if you want to live the rest of your life with the same mind set as your parents, just take all the jeans back to the store. You can continue the way you were and end up marrying some poster girl for the rich and famous.” She turned her head toward him. “The two of you can raise yet another generation of pains in the ass who treat us regular people like the trash we are.” She turned her head to look out of her window. “The choice is yours.”

  Tanner broke the ensuing silence after several moments. “I’ll wear the jeans, Angel.”

  She smiled, but remained silent until Tanner, true to form, made one more comment.

  “I guess I’ll have to trade in my new bottle of Acqu Di Gio Homme for a bottle of Old Spice next time I go shopping for a loaf of bread and some bologna.”

  Angelique snorted loudly before she could contain it and they burst into laughter. She finally managed to catch her breath, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You’re such a jerk.”

  He gave one last chuckle. “That’s what I hear.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Mike walked in his home around six-thirty, toting a bag of Tex-Mex take out and thinking of Angelique. He wondered if she was back from Houston or at least on her way home. His next thought was for the friend she’d gone with. That door was blown wide with possibilities. Hell she called him a friend and he’d marry her in a skinny minute. His one consolation was that she’d sent Nash the same text.

  The thought of his old buddy and his line of work made him think about Sarah Richard. That poor girl had been through hell—was still going through hell. And the worst part was that she was right about them not being able to protect her forever. That son of a bitch would get to her, sooner or later. Assholes like him always did, unless the victims had round the clock protection.

  He grabbed his phone and punched in the familiar number. Nash picked up on the third ring.

  “Harper, you son of a bitch! What’s up, Chief?”

  “Nash, how busy are you, as far as clients are concerned?”

  “Not at all, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. I’m on vacation, so to speak. Why? You afraid I’m gaining ground with Angel and hopin’ I’d have to haul ass?”

  Mike’s chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “Angel will decide when she decides and nobody is going to rush her. No, the truth is, I’m working on a case right now that’s bugging the hell out of me.”

  Nash sat back in a chair and watched as Annie entered the room, waddling uncomfortably in the way of all end of term pregnant women. He listened intently as Mike opened up to him about a young mother of twin girls, Sarah Richard. By the end of the tale, Nash sat stiff backed in the chair, seething with fury over the situation Sarah and her baby girls were in.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, wiping his hand over his face. “No idea where the asshole is, I guess.”

  “You got it,” Mike huffed. “That piece of crap could be anywhere in the country, or hiding outside of the hospital, waiting to get his hands on her as soon as she’s released.” He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Damn, I’m getting tired of cases like this, Nash. It seems like for every one of these bastards we put away there are five more to take his place.”

  Nash snorted in disgust. “I know what you mean, Harp. I lost my wife and child, and here’s this fool throwing his wife around like she’s worthless. What can I do?” he asked, thinking he’d like to get a piece of that asshole.

  “Well, that’s what I was calling about. Once Sarah’s released, we’ll be able to watch her a day or two longer, but I’m sure the department will have to pull us off the case. We don’t have the funds or the manpower for something like that. Mel Finley is begging to be left on it, but as it stands now, nobody knows what’s going to happen.”

  “Who the hell is this Mel?” Nash asked.

  “One of our officers who’s mom was abused by her husband. This case hits too close to home for that one.”

  “Well, I tell you what, Harper, you tell Sarah Richard I’ll be glad to keep her and her babies safe from her ex-asshole.”

  Mike passed a hand through his hair as he paused. “She can’t pay, Nash, but I’ll be glad to pay you something.”

  “Oh, hell man, I wouldn’t take a dime for this. That’s what’s good about being my own boss. I can do any damn thing I want to. Besides, that last babysitting job was a veritable windfall for me. I could sit on my ass for the rest of the year with what that rich girl’s daddy paid me.”

  “I was praying you’d say that, Nash. I told her I knew good people who could help protect her. Man, I can’t wait to give her some good news for a change. When do you want to meet her?”

  Nash looked at his watch. “I ain’t doing a damn thing right now, how about you?”

  “It’ll take you about an hour to get to the hospital from Kenton. That’ll give me time to eat my take out and do some laundry.”

  “Sounds go
od, Chief, now where’s that hospital?”

  The two men stepped off the elevator and walked toward Sarah’s room. “Remember, call her Sarah,” Mike said to Nash. He frowned and put his hand on his gun when he saw there was no one posted at the door. He approached cautiously, relaxing only when he heard the sound of women’s voices inside.

  Giving Nash a quick nod, he knocked softly on the door. The voices inside came to an immediate halt as he heard shuffling on the other side of the door.

  A stern voice demanded, “State your name and business.”

  Mike nodded, satisfied with the way the officer had responded. “It’s Mike Harper. I’ve got another visitor.”

  He heard the sound of the lock clicking and the door opened slowly. Officer Finley nodded in his direction then seemed to freeze in her tracks as Nash came into view.

  Liam wasn’t as nearly surprised at seeing the female officer at the door, as seeing such an attractive one. Not many women could pull off such a shade of vivid red hair paired with green eyes…or were they blue? The look, partnered with a buxom build and fair skin, obviously worked on this particular woman.

  He shook himself mentally and used caution to venture into the room. Once inside, he gazed at the tiny woman seated on the sofa. She held one beautiful golden haired infant, while a second child, equally beautiful, occupied an infant seat next to the mother. Both children were drooling and squealing in delight, almost seeming to communicate with each other in their own special twin language.

  Nash managed to hold back a wince as he took stock of the young mother’s battered face, as well as the brace on her arm. He nodded and gave her a grim smile.

  “Hello Sarah, I’m Liam Nash,” he said, holding out his hand before realizing she couldn’t very well shake his hand with one broken arm while holding her infant in the other. He pulled his hand back nervously.