Perilously Fun Fiction: A Bundle, Pauline Jones [top 100 novels of all time .txt] 📗

I couldn’t argue with that. Just moments ago I’d been wondering if it would ever end. Now I was wondering about the ethics of wanting to kiss one guy, while on a date with another. Maybe it was because Mike was still an unknown while I knew what kissing Kel was like. Kel was close, but not close enough. The air in the small space was super-charged and I knew in my quivering gut he was feeling what I was. Maybe not for the same reasons; men were aliens after all. Perhaps he was only interested in good fax. The power of being desired, in a strange way, gave me the resolution I needed to deny us what we both wanted.

“I have to go.”

“Yes.” He took one step back. “No more sleuthing?”

I smiled, feeling old and wise, and shook my head.

He stood there, looking like the gorgeous sheik of something.

“Take care, Bel.”

“I will. You take care, too. Watch that wound.” I smiled feebly. “I’m fresh out of underwear.”

His gaze was scorching as it swept up, then down my body. “I can see that. Anyone ever tell you that you have magnificent legs?”

This time my smile wasn’t feeble. Magnificent was better than great. Kind of took the sting out of Akasma. I knew he watched me walk away, and I knew the moment he quit watching. I felt part of me leave with him. I hoped it wasn’t my heart. I only had the one.

9

I got back just as Mike tucked some money into Akasma’s wispy pants, but I was in no position to call him on it. I waited until Mike was once more ensconced in the cushions before approaching. I don't think he saw me coming because he jumped like he'd been shot when I asked, "Was it as good for her as it was for you?"

Luckily for him our food arrived and our respective guilt kept us a quiet for a few moments as we dug into the succulent food, his a concoction of lamb with onions, apricots, almonds and spices, mine chicken strips and almonds wrapped in pastry. We ate without talking, Mike’s thoughts presumably on amazing breasts, mine fixed on Kel and the mystery.

“So,” Mike leaned back and patted his full stomach. “How's the patient?”

I looked up, mid-bite, hoping I didn't look as guilty as I felt. “The patient? Oh, the patient. He’s fine.”

“No ill effects from being treated by a vet?”

“Just an inclination to roll over and beg.”

He chuckled. “So, how did you meet this guy?”

“We just—accidentally bumped into each other.” I wasn’t born to sleuth, but I did have the normal amount of curiosity. A promise to not sleuth didn’t preclude wondering. Why was Kel here, why the disguise as a waiter? What message had he found? My pastry stuffed chicken turned to ashes in my mouth as another thought pattered through my brain. What if the round-headed man showed up here?

I did another surreptitious survey, but there were no round heads in my vicinity. I turned my musings back in Kel’s direction. It was kinder to my digestion. Not a cop, he said. Could he be a private detective? I examined the idea from all sides and decided I liked it. Pleased with this minor, though unconfirmed, bit of deduction I studied the crowd again. My problem was, I wouldn’t have recognized a clue if it came up and spoke to me.

“Rosemary?”

Not a clue. A jerk. I looked up with extreme reluctance.

My sister’s toe rag ex, was looking down at my legs. Where Flynn Kenyon was light, Dag Kenyon was shadow. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark soul and bimbo-deep in the second year of his mid-life crisis. Muir didn’t look like either of them, though I couldn’t remember precisely how. He was the ultimate, out-of-sight, out-of-mind, forgettable guy.

I gave Dag a frigid look that bounced off his ego. “Still trying to pretend you can’t tell us apart? Isn’t it a bit redundant now that Rosemary doesn’t want you either?”

“Isabel.” His smile was thin and cold, his eyes a dead zone. He looked at Mike and his oddly light brows arched in a question I had no intention of answering.

I didn’t care if I was Baptist. I wasn’t about to forgive him for what he did to my sister.

“I could have sworn Muir said he had a date with you tonight?”

“Really?”

“I had no idea you were involved with someone else.” He looked at Mike again.

“I can’t think of any reason why you should know.” Mike’s voice was quiet, but there was a hint of menace darkening his eyes. I knew his massive shoulders weren’t just for show and hoped Dag provoked him into flexing them.

Dag looked at the shoulders and chose discretion. “I’m Dag Kenyon, Isabel’s brother-in-law—”

“Ex-brother-in-law.”

Mike rose from the cushions, his bulk casting a shadow over Dag. “Mike Lang, Isabel’s vet.”

“Really? And how is your huge hound, Isabel?”

I felt a chill. Surely he hadn’t seen Rosemary’s car parked outside Mike’s house last night?

“He still doesn’t like you.”

“Can’t win them all.” He stepped back, flicking us both another mocking glance. “It was so charming to see you again. I won’t give Muir your love.” He turned away, but before I could sigh with relief, he paused to deliver one last salvo, “Oh, Dad was right.” He let the pause lengthen painfully, before adding, “You do look intriguing today. What have you been up to?”

Before I could answer, he gave me a mocking salute, then turned and slithered back into the shadows from whence he came.

“Nice guy,” Mike said, resuming his pillows.

I sank down. “A real gem. Rosemary and I usually fall for the same guys, but he was the exception. I don’t know what she saw in him that I didn’t.”

“Maybe that you didn’t like him was the attraction?” Mike said. “Couldn’t have been easy to always look like someone else.”

Talk about illuminating the obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. And of course, I’d resisted marriage and