Dream Man
“I don’t like being spied on,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Then I won’t do it.”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “Damn it,” he said under his breath. “Does it work the other way around? The other time, you were worried about me. But what if you’re the one in trouble? Can you call me, psychically?”
“I can place the call, Detective,” she said sardonically. “But if you don’t have a receiver, you can’t get the signals. But I wouldn’t, anyway.”
“Why not?” He didn’t like that. She could see his temper rising.
“That boundary you just drew. If you don’t want me to cross it for my convenience, I’ll be damned if I’ll cross it for yours.”
“Shit! I don’t believe this.” He closed his eyes and pinched the narrow bridge of his nose. “We’re arguing about something that doesn’t exist. If you can’t contact me anyway, what the hell difference does it make that you wouldn’t even try?”
“You tell me. You’re the one with the problem about it.” She turned around and headed for the living room. She had taken maybe three steps when a hard arm passed around her waist from behind and drew her back against him. She didn’t try to struggle free, but neither did she relax and let him take her weight. She stood stock still, waiting. He had an erection; she could feel it pressing against her bottom. She wasn’t surprised, because in the week they had been together, it seemed as if he had been hard most of the time.
“We aren’t going to get this settled, are we?” His breath was warm against her temple.
“I don’t see how.”
“Then let’s forget about it for now. Want to go for a ride?”
“Where to?”
“My place. I’m curious about what Trammell is doing to it.”
She turned her head to stare incredulously at him. “You mean you don’t know?”
“Nope. He told me to stay away until he’s finished.”
“For heaven’s sake, why? It’s your house.”
“He said that I know as much about decorating as I know about clothes.”
“In that case, I understand completely,” she said wryly.
“Smart-ass. Do you want to go or not?”
“Sure.” She had to admit to being curious about his house. She knew that it would be a mess while the renovation work was in progress, but houses were very personal things. Since she couldn’t read Dane psychically, she had to pick up clues about him any way she could.
The drive to Dane’s house took her mind off the uneasy feeling that had been her constant companion. Dismissing their quarrel for now, because there was nothing they could do about it, she prepared to enjoy prowling through his house.
Though it was late, almost seven, and long past the time when the workers would have gone home, there was another car in the driveway, and lights were on in the house. “Uh-oh,” Dane said. “Caught in the act. Trammell’s here.”
“You don’t have to stop,” Marlie pointed out.
He smiled. “And miss the fun?” Deftly he pulled in behind Trammell’s car.
They had barely gotten out of the car when Trammell appeared in the doorway. “I told you to stay away,” he called.
“So arrest me. I’ve been good for four days. How long did you think it would last?”
“Three,” Trammell said, stepping aside to let them in.
A tall, slim woman came forward to greet them. “Grace,” Dane said, pleasure evident in his voice as he hugged her. “Marlie, this is Grace Roeg, a patrol officer with the city. Grace, Marlie Keen.”
“Hello,” Grace said in a slow, grave voice. Marlie swiftly evaluated her, and liked what she saw. There was something stately about Grace Roeg, and her deep brown eyes reflected the inner stillness of an unshakable serenity.
“Well, go ahead, look around,” Trammell said irritably.
Dane looked around at the empty room, all the while keeping his arm around Grace. “Where’s my stuff?”
“In storage,” Trammell growled, forcefully removing his arm from Grace’s shoulders. He glanced sharply at Marlie, as if instructing her to take Dane into custody and control him. She put an innocent look on her face, amused by watching the elegant Trammell descend to the primitive levels of jealousy.
Grace said, “Don’t mind him. We’re getting married, and he’s still in shock.” She extended her left hand to show them an exquisite marquise diamond, about three carats worth.
“I am not.” Trammell turned a violent look on Dane. “Don’t start.”
Dane was grinning. “Start what? I’m glad for you. Congratulations, buddy. Grace is way too good for you. When are you going to do the deed?”
“About six months,” Grace answered comfortably. “I thought a nice, long engagement would give him time to get used to the idea. Things have happened pretty fast, so we don’t want to rush into anything and maybe make a mistake.”
“I don’t need time,” her intended said, looking haunted. “It was my idea, wasn’t it?”
“Of course it was, darling,” she soothed, tucking her arm through his. “But it will take that long to plan the wedding. Now, why don’t you show Dane what you’re doing to his house?”
“Is it going to be a big wedding?” Marlie asked.
“Big enough,” Trammell said, and turned an evil smile on Dane. “You’ll have to wear a tuxedo.”