Chapter Twenty-One
River paused on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, lust shooting through his veins. Lord, have mercy.
Vicki stormed down the sidewalk, the little green number she wore clinging to every curve, squeezing in just the right places. Her hips swayed in a seductive rhythm with each step, and the slit up the side gave a hint of what she might have on beneath the dress. Brows drawn down, mouth in a thin line, anger radiated off her in waves, and each frustrated huff raised her creamy breasts just to the point of spilling over the low-cut neckline.
That blonde hair, those flashing gray eyes, all those dips and curves. Good God. River’s head spun just looking at her. Clenching his jaw, he fought not to grin like an idiot.
“She told me to keep the enemy near,” Vicki growled when she was three feet from him. “Well, I say this is going too far.”
River forced himself to focus. “What are we talking about?”
She waved her hand behind her. “That.”
Becca and Lenny strolled side by side, smiles on their faces while they talked to one another.
“It’s just too much.” Vicki sulked. “Becca felt like a third wheel, so she invited the hack to dinner. Why couldn’t it have been the cute bartender guy, Brent? But no. It had to be my own personal stalker.”
He smiled. “Stalkers are personal by definition.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours.” He ran his hands up and down her silky arms. “Okay, so just sit next to me, and I’ll run interference for you if things get squirrelly.”
Her features softened, some of the anger dissipating. “You’d do that?”
“Absolutely.” He gazed down at her, a ghost of a smile grazing her lips. Taking her hand, he waited for the pariah couple to join them. He opened the restaurant door and urged Vicki through, her friend following. “Becca, so good to see you again.”
“Detective Chastain.” Lenny started through the door, but River grabbed his shoulder.
“We need to have an understanding here.” He kept his body relaxed, but gave the reporter a hard stare. “You do anything—an off-handed comment, an inappropriate look, anything—and you’ll regret it.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Detective.” He raised his brows and widened his eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Yeah. You do.” Having dealt with his type before, he straightened, towering over the reporter. “You so much as breathe on her, you’ll find your ass in a jail cell for the night, and I’ll fill out the restraining order myself.”
Lenny glanced at the door. “Man, you’re stepping all over my First Amendment rights as a journalist. I could yell police harassment.”
River snorted. “Try it.”
The guy’s shoulders sagged.
“We clear?”
His head tilted in the direction of the restaurant. River hoped the subtle gesture meant the reporter was interested in getting back to his date and not Vicki. They could make it through the meal as long as the two of them played nice.
“Yeah. We’re clear.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and walked through the doorway. River stayed on his heels.
The two women sat in an oversized corner booth with a red-and-white checkered cloth covering the table. A cylindrical vase held two carnations, and next to that sat salt and pepper shakers. The restaurant lighting had been dimmed to create a romantic atmosphere. Even so, River had no difficulty spotting Vicki’s irritated expression.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Becca announced while the two men slid into the seats opposite one another, “but we went ahead and ordered drinks. Red wine for us. Beers for you guys.”
“Sounds good.” River took Vicki’s hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Without preamble, Lenny plunked a four-inch cross on the table and stared at him. “I’m a religious man.”
River gave him a warning glare. Was the guy itching to spend the night behind bars?
“Oh my God, Lenny.” A frustrated huff brought Vicki’s breasts heaving dangerously close to the edge of her neckline. River kept his focus on the reporter, but his peripheral offered an enticing view. “I already told you I’m not a vampire. And besides”—she waved her hand about—“we’re in a freaking Italian restaurant. If it’d make you feel better, I’ll order extra garlic on my dinner.”
“It would,” the guy said, his response deadpan. “And if you’d just hold this for a moment, I’m certain we’d all feel a little safer.” He held the cross out to her.
Vicki snatched the silver cross and threw her head back. “Oh, the pain! It’s burning. Burning. I’m melting.”
Grinning, River took the cross, returning it to Lenny, whose calm façade had deteriorated into sheepishness.
“Well, can’t be too careful.” Brows drawing together in a tight knot, he barked a nerve-laden chuckle. “You had me going there for a moment. I was like, damn she is a vampire. I was right all along.” He nodded. “Good one.”
“You can put the cross away.” Becca patted his arm, her voice thick with reassurance. “Vicki’s perfectly safe. I’ve known her forever, and nothing’s ever happened to me.”
Vicki blanched and reached for her wine, her trembling fingers bumping the glass. In a quick move, River grabbed the goblet, keeping the liquid from splashing onto the table. So, I was right. She did have a vision about her friend.
“Thank you.” A subtle sigh laced her words. Lifting the glass to her lips, she then downed the wine then looked over at Lenny. “Just don’t go throwing holy water on me until after dinner. Okay?”
The reporter grinned, appearing to warm up to her. “Deal.”
The waiter approached their table with a bottle, poured a generous portion into Vicki’s glass, and splashed a bit more into Becca’s. “Salute,” he said and departed.
“There’s something I don’t get.” Vicki took another gulp of wine, her attention fixed on the reporter. “Here you are trying to prove I’m a vampire, but in your UFOP article you referred to me as a paranormal parasite.”
“Not my idea.” He held up his hand. “I swear.”
“Good.” Becca scrunched up her face. “Parasite is just gross.”
He turned his attention to the raven-haired artist. “My original title was Paranormal Parasite. But Victoria Vampire? Now, that title just rolls off the tongue. Not to mention it’s way sexier than parasite.”
A cell phone rang, and Lenny jumped. “It’s me.” He checked at the caller ID. Giving his impromptu date an apologetic look, he rose from the booth. Three steps from the table he hunched over and answered the phone. “I told you to quit calling me. No. I said—” He strode toward the restaurant exit and pushed through the door. “No. It’s over, Jolene. We’re done.”
Becca scooted to the edge of the booth. “And before you say anything, he already told me all about Jolene.”
Vicki’s eyebrows rose. “In a two-block walk he told you about his ex-girlfriend?”
“She’s been hounding him. Warned me she might call and wanted to be clear upfront.”
“Clear upfront?” She leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
“We just sort of clicked.” Becca shrugged. “I know he’s not the usual type I date. But it’s a good thing, I think.” She turned to River. “Don’t you agree?”
Taken by surprise, he fell back on the adage—if he didn’t know what a woman was talking about, agree. “Sure.”
Beneath the table, a high heel jammed down on his foot. Grimacing, he shook his head. No way to win this one.
Becca angled toward the door. “He’s cute. Intelligent. Charming in an other-worldly kind of way.”
“Yeah,” Vicki shot back, her tone sarcastic. “If you can get past the Bigfoot, vampire, Sasquatch, and alien abduction thing.”
“Bigfoot and Sasquatch are the same thing,” she snapped.
“Oh, wow. A match made in heaven.”
Becca leveled her gaze on her friend, eyes blazing with fury. “If you’ll remember, you’re the one who told me I should have hot sex to get over being jilted.” She held up her hand, cutting off any further comment. “I’m going to the ladies’ room to freshen up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She stood. “Then I plan to have a wonderful dinner with a charming man, and if we have hot sex later, then that’s my business.”
Becca turned to leave, paused, and then pivoted around on her heel. Her focus landed on River, and he tensed beneath her dark-eyed scrutiny. “And just so you know, she thinks she looks like a hooker in her dress. I tried to talk sense into her, but it seems you’re the only one she’s going to listen to tonight.” She strode away from the table, her heels clacking on the tiled floor.
“Pushed her too far,” Vicki muttered. She stared after her friend, regret clear in her eyes, her creamy chest flushed and heaving. “It just weirds me out that she’d hook up with the guy who wrote that awful story about me.”
Deciding it was safer to keep his opinions to himself, he grabbed his beer and drank.
“So, do I look like a hooker?”
He choked on the cold foamy liquid. “God, no.” He set the mug on the table. “I’ve seen enough hookers, and you don’t even come close.”
Her brow furrowed.
“I mean, no, you don’t look anything like a hooker. Nothing at all.”
She tilted her head, blonde tresses tumbling over her shoulder.
Letting his actions speak, he slid toward her, taking in her creamy curviness, inhaling the light scent of her perfume. He trailed a finger up her arm, captivated by the path he made up the side of her bicep to her shoulder. When he reached her neck, she shivered. Her response sent a shock of lust low in his gut. Leaning toward her, he brushed his lips over hers.
Unable to stop himself, River wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He twined his fingers into the silky strands at the nape of her neck. Her body contoured to his, and he reveled in her softness.
Capturing her mouth with his, he tasted sweetness and wanted more. His tongue pushed between her lips, discovering a hunger that matched his own. Heart pounding, his body pulsed with need. Oh, man, if he held her much longer, things would definitely get out of control. And having her sprawled naked across the table for anyone to happen by and see was not an option.
What are you doing, River? You shouldn’t even be considering this. Getting involved with a suspect could get you thrown off the case.
But the longer he kissed her, the more he wanted her. I’ll just have to keep it under control.
He broke the kiss and struggled to catch his breath. His gaze dipped to her wet, swollen lips, and lust rocketed through him.
Yeah, you’re in deep here, River.