at Old Yeller, I realized that was a moot point. The orange VW had gone. He'd driven away while I was at the beauty salon. I dumped the cold Mocha Grande on his vacated parking space like a big dog pissing on its territory.
"You aren't going to litter, are you?" A deep male voice froze me in my spot.
Paparazzi! Headlines flashed across my mind's eye: Prime Witness Caught Littering.
"Jack B?" he said, and this time I detected a hint of the familiar in that husky voice. Not Stone, but a close relative.
I spun and found myself looking up into the handsome visage of a man with trim dark brown hair and keen hazel eyes. He was as polished as my mother's dinnerware in anticipation of a special occasion, but something about Duke Maddox reminded me of a great white shark. Maybe it was the body-sleek business suit, crisp white shirt, or that king-of-the-ocean smirk. Look out little swimmer I'm about to gobble you up. And damn my man-crazy gene, instead of hauling ass out of dangerous waters, I felt like jumping in.
My breath caught like cashmere on a nail.
Every heterosexual woman who'd ever sworn off men would understand the heat flushing through me. I tossed the empty cup onto the back floorboards of Old Yeller. "I don't suppose you defend litterbugs?"
A twinkle sparked in his intense eyes. "I was going to call you."
"You were?" Had our meeting been accidental? Or were the Golden Oldies playing matchmaker after I'd distinctly told them not to?
"I'd like to set up an appointment to take your deposition."
Oh. Of course. Duh. It was then I noticed the brand new, low slung Jag parked four spots over. I sank onto the driver's seat of my aged Mustang. "Do you have my number?"
He nodded, dislodging a lock of hair that softened his expression, made him look much more approachable. "My client supplied it."
He could have gotten it from Stone, too, I supposed. I shouldn't look for meaning in the fact that Apollo furnished it. "How is Apollo?"
Duke glanced off into the distance, then back at me with that gripping gaze. "It's not easy being accused of murder..."
My throat tightened at the thought of the hell my BFF was living. "Especially when you're innocent."
He studied me a long moment and the heat in my veins grew even hotter. I needed distance. Now. I closed my car door, intending to start the motor and drive away, but he tapped on my window.
Reluctantly I lowered it, silently asking: What ?
He planted his hands on the roof and leaned toward me. He smelled like sex in the afternoon. I swallowed hard.
He said, "If you think Apollo is innocent, how did you end up being a witness for the prosecution?"
I tried not to smell him. "You wouldn't believe it."
"Just the same, I'd like to hear the story."
I glanced at my watch. "I'm afraid I'm going to be late for an appointment."
"Then some other time."
I nodded. "Just have your secretary call me later to set up the appointment for the deposition. I'll do anything I can to help get Apollo out of this mess."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then how about I take you to dinner tonight and you can tell me that story as well as how you plan to help my client."
Dinner? With Duke Maddox? Would Madam Zee's tea leaves have predicted this? I started the ignition, my finger reaching for the auto window button.
"Well...?" His warm breath brushed my face.
"Er, ah, sure." Why not? It was dinner, not a night of hot sex, and I had to eat. "When and where?"
"Do you like seafood?"
"Does Heidi Klum host Project Runway?"
"I'll pick you up at eight." He flashed that I'm-going-to-eat-you smile.
I squirmed in my seat, not turned off, but on by that thought. I shut my window and drove off. In the rearview mirror I saw him watching me drive away.
I headed to Seattle, my mind reeling, my body retaining the heat of the encounter. I told myself to get a grip, that Duke was not interested in me as anything more than a means to an end, a way to help his client. Besides, I'd sworn off men.
And what about my
"You aren't going to litter, are you?" A deep male voice froze me in my spot.
Paparazzi! Headlines flashed across my mind's eye: Prime Witness Caught Littering.
"Jack B?" he said, and this time I detected a hint of the familiar in that husky voice. Not Stone, but a close relative.
I spun and found myself looking up into the handsome visage of a man with trim dark brown hair and keen hazel eyes. He was as polished as my mother's dinnerware in anticipation of a special occasion, but something about Duke Maddox reminded me of a great white shark. Maybe it was the body-sleek business suit, crisp white shirt, or that king-of-the-ocean smirk. Look out little swimmer I'm about to gobble you up. And damn my man-crazy gene, instead of hauling ass out of dangerous waters, I felt like jumping in.
My breath caught like cashmere on a nail.
Every heterosexual woman who'd ever sworn off men would understand the heat flushing through me. I tossed the empty cup onto the back floorboards of Old Yeller. "I don't suppose you defend litterbugs?"
A twinkle sparked in his intense eyes. "I was going to call you."
"You were?" Had our meeting been accidental? Or were the Golden Oldies playing matchmaker after I'd distinctly told them not to?
"I'd like to set up an appointment to take your deposition."
Oh. Of course. Duh. It was then I noticed the brand new, low slung Jag parked four spots over. I sank onto the driver's seat of my aged Mustang. "Do you have my number?"
He nodded, dislodging a lock of hair that softened his expression, made him look much more approachable. "My client supplied it."
He could have gotten it from Stone, too, I supposed. I shouldn't look for meaning in the fact that Apollo furnished it. "How is Apollo?"
Duke glanced off into the distance, then back at me with that gripping gaze. "It's not easy being accused of murder..."
My throat tightened at the thought of the hell my BFF was living. "Especially when you're innocent."
He studied me a long moment and the heat in my veins grew even hotter. I needed distance. Now. I closed my car door, intending to start the motor and drive away, but he tapped on my window.
Reluctantly I lowered it, silently asking: What ?
He planted his hands on the roof and leaned toward me. He smelled like sex in the afternoon. I swallowed hard.
He said, "If you think Apollo is innocent, how did you end up being a witness for the prosecution?"
I tried not to smell him. "You wouldn't believe it."
"Just the same, I'd like to hear the story."
I glanced at my watch. "I'm afraid I'm going to be late for an appointment."
"Then some other time."
I nodded. "Just have your secretary call me later to set up the appointment for the deposition. I'll do anything I can to help get Apollo out of this mess."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then how about I take you to dinner tonight and you can tell me that story as well as how you plan to help my client."
Dinner? With Duke Maddox? Would Madam Zee's tea leaves have predicted this? I started the ignition, my finger reaching for the auto window button.
"Well...?" His warm breath brushed my face.
"Er, ah, sure." Why not? It was dinner, not a night of hot sex, and I had to eat. "When and where?"
"Do you like seafood?"
"Does Heidi Klum host Project Runway?"
"I'll pick you up at eight." He flashed that I'm-going-to-eat-you smile.
I squirmed in my seat, not turned off, but on by that thought. I shut my window and drove off. In the rearview mirror I saw him watching me drive away.
I headed to Seattle, my mind reeling, my body retaining the heat of the encounter. I told myself to get a grip, that Duke was not interested in me as anything more than a means to an end, a way to help his client. Besides, I'd sworn off men.
And what about my
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