over her tonight.
He was deviating from his script. The woman was trouble he did not need. A walking, breathing question mark. He had enough to deal with, with the new business he was starting up.
Margot Vetter’s checkered past was not his business, no matter how curious he was. He didn’t need to know what she was running from, what responsibilities she was evading. With his constant efforts at self-mastery, he’d be damned if he would let his dick drag him into the snakepit of somebody else’s bad decisions and rotten judgment.
No more rescue missions, either. He’d tried the hero routine years ago, with Fleur, and had fuck-all to show for it.
Unless you counted the scars.
Margot jerked her shoulders, impatient with the long silence. “So?” she demanded. “Wait for what? Why are you staring at me?”
He played for time. “Why do you need a detective?”
Her full lips tightened. “What do you care? It’s irrelevant, since you’re no longer in the business. And I would hate to bore you.”
“I’m not bored. And I’ll decide what’s relevant.”
She grew three inches in a breath. “Will you? Gee, that’s arrogant.”
Arrogant. Huh. Women had thrown that at him before, but he just shrugged it off. There were worse things a woman could call a guy.
“Just tell me.” He concentrated on his command stare, which he’d used to great effect as the sole authority figure for three unruly younger brothers. He’d developed it further in the army, and honed it to perfection as a martial arts master. All the force of his will, blazing out through the eyes. Legend held that a true master of the dragon form could terrify his enemies into submission with a single glance. He hadn’t made it to that point yet, but he did all right, for the most part.
Didn’t work worth a damn on Margot Vetter, though. She just wrapped her arms over her tits and glared right back at him. “I don’t have time for idle curiosity, buddy. I’ve got a body sculpture class to teach in”—she consulted her watch—“three minutes. So go on back to your karate moves, and don’t stress yourself about—”
“Kung fu,” he said.
She gave him a death ray stare. “Excuse me?”
“I was practicing kung fu, not karate,” he clarified.
She rolled her eyes, turned her back and marched for the door.
He lunged ahead of her to block the exit, without thinking, and she shrank back, startled. “Hey! How’d you do that?” she said sharply.
The sheer variety of colors in her eyes was distracting. “Do what?”
“I didn’t even hear you move, and whoosh. You appeared right in front of me.” She stabbed his solar plexus with her finger and yanked her hand back at the shock of contact with his skin. “You scared me!”
“Uh…” He groped for any kind of response. “Dragon spirit, maybe.”
Aw, shit. He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth.
“Dragon who?” She regarded him with deep suspicion.
“According to legend, a practitioner of Shaolin can, uh, use the spirit of the dragon to misdirect his opponent into thinking an attack is coming from the opposite direction,” he said lamely. “Theoretically.”
Margot’s pointed chin lifted. “Oh. I see. Are you going to attack me, then? Since when am I your opponent?”
“You’re not. You’re absolutely not,” he assured her. “I just said that, without thinking. It was stupid. I didn’t mean to imply…wait. Please. Don’t go yet.” He moved to block her as she sidled around him.
Her brow furrowed. “Hey. Are you deliberately trying to creep me out, or are you just naturally weird?”
He thought about it, and rapidly concluded that he did not want to creep her out. “Just naturally weird, I guess.”
She rolled her eyes. “OK, that’s enough,” she announced. “Out of my way. I’ve got stuff to do.” She dismissed him with a commanding wave of her slender hand.
“Meet me after your class. You can tell me about your problem. Over dinner. If you want.” He blurted out the unpremeditated, ill-considered words, and held his breath for her response.
Her eyes widened, defenceless in her surprise. She wrapped her arms across her chest, and her cleavage deepened. She had a sprinkle of red freckles on her tits. He dragged his gaze away from her chest.
“Who said I had a problem?” Her voice was belligerent.
“People who go looking for a detective always have a problem,” he said. “Tell me. At least the short version. Please.”
Margot stared down at the floor for a long moment, and let out a long, unsteady sigh. “Well…it’s just that I’ve got some sicko stalking me, and it’s freaking me out.” The words came out in a quick, nervous rush. “I just wanted to tell someone. You know. To get another point of view. I’m chasing myself in circles, thinking about it.”
“What happened?” he demanded. “What’s he done so far?”
She twisted her hands together. “I started finding red rose petals on my doorstep, which was strange, but whatever, right? Secret admirer, whoop-di-doo. It’s happened off and on for the last two weeks. Then I got burgled six days ago. Don’t know if that’s connected. But then the other day…” Her voice trailed off. She swallowed.
“What?”
The rough impatience in his voice made her flinch. “The dog. I found a dead dog on my porch. Throat slit. Blood everywhere.”
A cold, dark hole yawned open, somewhere deep in his gut. “What did the police have to say about it?”
She hesitated, and shook her head. “I, um, didn’t call them.”
“Why not?” he demanded. Though he knew damn well why not.
The shadow over her face deepened by imperceptible degrees. Her eyes flicked away. The faint, bluish smudges beneath them made her look haunted. “Look, uh…never mind, OK? I shouldn’t have bothered you in the first place, and I’m late for my class, and you’re not in the business now anyhow, so thanks for your time, but I have to—”
“Tell me the rest of it over dinner,” he urged.
She gave him a long, searching look. “You know…something tells me that wouldn’t be such a fabulous idea.”
Here it was. His chance to back off with his dignity more or less intact. You win some, you lose some, and God knows it was just as well.
“Why not?” he asked baldly.
She looked flustered. “I have to pick up my dog at the kennel—”
“I
