Amanda's Blue Marine by Doreen Owens Malek Page B

one of the framed pictures from her wall in one hand. As she watched he shoved his gun back into its holster with his other hand.
    “Here’s our stalker,” he said dryly. “Think I should put him in cuffs?”
    He was holding a photo of Amanda with one of the pandas from the Bronx Zoo, a picture taken when she was eight years old. Her mother had had it blown up, matted and framed to add a whimsical touch to her décor.
    “Very cute,” Kelly added. “You, I mean, not the bear.”
    Mandy closed her eyes in relief.
    “It fell off the wall and hit the floor,” Kelly added. “That’s the noise we heard. I think the hanger on the back is broken. We must have shaken the picture loose when we opened the door.” He bent and leaned the picture against the wall, then moved to join her at the entrance to the hall.
    Mandy looked at him and their eyes met. She was biting her lips trying not to laugh but she was losing the battle.
    “Oh, go ahead,” he said, grinning. “Detective Kelly on the prowl, I know, very funny. If you have any dangerous panda pictures preparing to jump you, I’m your man.”
    Mandy broke down and laughed openly as he joined her. She leaned her head against his shoulder weakly as they both chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and she thought, He’s back. Wherever he went when that phone call came, he’s back. She felt his hand cup the back of her head and press her face against his coat gently. When she moved away to look at him he was gazing down at her, his smile fading.
    He’s going to kiss me, she thought. Her lips were parting in eager anticipation when he stepped back suddenly and said, “I should go. I just wanted to make sure your place was clean. You’ll be all right now.” He moved toward the hall in a surge of activity that seemed close to flight.
    “Thank you for everything,” she said, as he went through the door.
    “Call me on the cell if there’s any problem,” he said to her as he left. “I’ll see you in my office on Monday.”
    Amanda watched him go wistfully.
    Each time he left her she felt more alone.
    * * * * *
    Kelly went back to the cruiser and tore off his jacket, balling it up in frustration and tossing it onto the back seat of the car. Amanda had worn it for several hours and it was now permeated with the scent of her perfume, reminding him of her constantly.
    As if he needed something that perceptible to haunt him. She was on his mind all the time anyway. Now the thing smelled just like her and he would never be able to forget her. He would have to get rid of it. He marked the coat for donation in his mind as he turned out of Amanda’s complex and got on the highway, heading back to the station.
    Her hair had felt like silk when he touched it, dark red silk slipping through his fingers. And she had stepped smoothly into the curve of his body, the top of her head coming to his bicep. She was just shoulder high. She fit him like a sheath.
    That image brought up other ideas which he knew he shouldn’t consider, but which occupied his mind until he almost ran a stoplight. He screeched to a halt and closed his eyes briefly, then stared at the light, waiting for it to change.
    He was losing control of this situation. Amanda was a wild card and he didn’t like variables. He was floundering, not sure how to handle her but unwilling to do what he knew he should: ask for a change of assignment and get the hell away from her.
    Kelly sensed that he was out of his depth. To the outside world he appeared like a consummate womanizer who got all the ladies with a glance. But he ensured his success by never straying beyond his safety zone, sticking with the type of woman more impressed by crystalline blue eyes and sculpted muscles than intellectual prowess or financial success. The former he could provide, the latter not so much. Amanda Redfield definitely fell outside his self imposed limits. Under ordinary circumstances he would have avoided a woman like her as too much