home, but at least most of the cops knew me and cut me some slack.
I was going to need help. Of the professional kind. Savage was never going to let me live this down.
Chapter Seven
C alling Savage was the last thing I wanted to do. And when I say the last thing, I mean that I’d rather be tied to the stake with fire licking at the bottom of my feet than have to face him. But I needed help, and we had a very short window of time to make the capture.
Savage was like a temptation test from God. At least that’s the way I’d decided to look at it. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed any of His other tests, but I was batting a thousand on this one. I’d managed to say no every time Savage had made a move, and I still didn’t understand where I’d gathered the inner resolve.
I loved Nick. I mean really loved him. There probably weren’t a lot of men out there that were willing to put up with P.I. girlfriends who were only average at their job. Not to mention the fact that trouble seemed to follow me wherever I went. I often wondered why a guy like Nick could love me. He was beautiful to look at—the body of a swimmer and a face sculpted by Michelangelo. He was a damned good cop, and I hadn’t even found out that he was filthy rich until we’d been dating for months. It hadn’t mattered. Nick had a code, and that’s what I loved about him. And he always had my back.
Savage made Nick look like second-string quarterback. The man oozed testosterone, and I’d once had to check my underwear to see if he’d made it disintegrate. He was part Native American and part Greek god, and I was willing to bet Savage had no problems with anyone seeing him naked.
But we were all adults and a lot was at stake, so I sent him a picture I’d taken of the tattoo and made the call to ask for the biggest favor of my life. Not much phased Savage, so he said he’d be on the next flight and would see me before my dinner date. I was pretty sure this might be the last time we ever worked together, because I wouldn’t be able to face him again after he saw me naked.
I’d spent the afternoon napping, and when I woke up I was sunburned and I had a hangover. I stumbled into the bathroom and stuck my head in the faucet, drinking water right out of the tap. And then I looked up and saw myself in the mirror and screamed.
No one came running in to see what was wrong, so I figured they’d already seen me and didn’t want to be frightened again, or no one was in the villa. I took a shower and then toweled off gently, admiring the pale strips of skin that ran down the middle of my boobs from where the camera strap had hung. The skin on either side was bright pink.
I rubbed lotion all over my body and was grateful it would be dark by the time I had to go to dinner because there wasn’t a lot I could do to spruce myself up other than hide in the shadows. I did spend the half hour it took to blow dry and straighten my hair, and I dabbed concealer under my eyes and a few other places to get rid of the green tinge left by the hangover.
By the time I walked into the main living area I was feeling mostly human.
“I thought I heard you scream,” Scarlet said, pinning a big Hawaiian flower in her hair. She wore a grass hula skirt and a lei dangled between her ninety-year-old breasts.
“Figured you must’ve woken up and saw yourself in the mirror. You gave me a pretty good fright too when I came in and saw you on the bed. Thought you were dead. Or maybe one of those zombies that I’d have to shoot in the head with a shotgun.”
“I’m glad you refrained,” I said dryly. “I’ve got a date with Elmer tonight.”
Rosemarie was freshening her lipstick, and I recognized the relaxed, satisfied glow of a woman who’d spent the afternoon being horizontal with a man. Her hair was back to perfect Farrah Fawcett curls and she was dressed just like Scarlet, only her grass skirt didn’t cover as much real estate.
“We know,” Rosemarie said.
I was going to need help. Of the professional kind. Savage was never going to let me live this down.
Chapter Seven
C alling Savage was the last thing I wanted to do. And when I say the last thing, I mean that I’d rather be tied to the stake with fire licking at the bottom of my feet than have to face him. But I needed help, and we had a very short window of time to make the capture.
Savage was like a temptation test from God. At least that’s the way I’d decided to look at it. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed any of His other tests, but I was batting a thousand on this one. I’d managed to say no every time Savage had made a move, and I still didn’t understand where I’d gathered the inner resolve.
I loved Nick. I mean really loved him. There probably weren’t a lot of men out there that were willing to put up with P.I. girlfriends who were only average at their job. Not to mention the fact that trouble seemed to follow me wherever I went. I often wondered why a guy like Nick could love me. He was beautiful to look at—the body of a swimmer and a face sculpted by Michelangelo. He was a damned good cop, and I hadn’t even found out that he was filthy rich until we’d been dating for months. It hadn’t mattered. Nick had a code, and that’s what I loved about him. And he always had my back.
Savage made Nick look like second-string quarterback. The man oozed testosterone, and I’d once had to check my underwear to see if he’d made it disintegrate. He was part Native American and part Greek god, and I was willing to bet Savage had no problems with anyone seeing him naked.
But we were all adults and a lot was at stake, so I sent him a picture I’d taken of the tattoo and made the call to ask for the biggest favor of my life. Not much phased Savage, so he said he’d be on the next flight and would see me before my dinner date. I was pretty sure this might be the last time we ever worked together, because I wouldn’t be able to face him again after he saw me naked.
I’d spent the afternoon napping, and when I woke up I was sunburned and I had a hangover. I stumbled into the bathroom and stuck my head in the faucet, drinking water right out of the tap. And then I looked up and saw myself in the mirror and screamed.
No one came running in to see what was wrong, so I figured they’d already seen me and didn’t want to be frightened again, or no one was in the villa. I took a shower and then toweled off gently, admiring the pale strips of skin that ran down the middle of my boobs from where the camera strap had hung. The skin on either side was bright pink.
I rubbed lotion all over my body and was grateful it would be dark by the time I had to go to dinner because there wasn’t a lot I could do to spruce myself up other than hide in the shadows. I did spend the half hour it took to blow dry and straighten my hair, and I dabbed concealer under my eyes and a few other places to get rid of the green tinge left by the hangover.
By the time I walked into the main living area I was feeling mostly human.
“I thought I heard you scream,” Scarlet said, pinning a big Hawaiian flower in her hair. She wore a grass hula skirt and a lei dangled between her ninety-year-old breasts.
“Figured you must’ve woken up and saw yourself in the mirror. You gave me a pretty good fright too when I came in and saw you on the bed. Thought you were dead. Or maybe one of those zombies that I’d have to shoot in the head with a shotgun.”
“I’m glad you refrained,” I said dryly. “I’ve got a date with Elmer tonight.”
Rosemarie was freshening her lipstick, and I recognized the relaxed, satisfied glow of a woman who’d spent the afternoon being horizontal with a man. Her hair was back to perfect Farrah Fawcett curls and she was dressed just like Scarlet, only her grass skirt didn’t cover as much real estate.
“We know,” Rosemarie said.
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