Storm of Attraction

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Storm of Attraction Page 8

by Lily Black


  “Sure, whenever is good.” Drew scraped up the last of his dip. “I’ve got some paperwork to go over, but I can do it while you’re in class.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I won’t have any trouble finding ways to keep busy at the dojo if you need more time.” Alexa rose. She picked up her dishes and went to the sink to rinse them. When Drew brought his to the sink, she rinsed them, too, and started the dishwasher.

  Drew smiled as he popped lids on the leftovers and put them in the fridge. The scene was so peaceful and domestic, something he had no experience with, at least not with a woman as part of it.

  Alexa took a last swipe at the kitchen table then rinsed the cloth and hung it out. “Thanks for the dinner. It was delicious.” She smiled at him, warm and… surely, that was an admiring look. But when he returned the smile and shifted toward her—intending only to wipe the smudge off her chin—she beat a hasty retreat to the doorway. “I’m off to bed. See you in the morning.”

  “Good night.” Drew raised a hand in what he hoped was a good-bye.

  As Alexa stepped into the hall, her womanly hourglass shape was silhouetted by the light behind her. She still had all the curves he remembered.

  Drew could have smacked himself. That wasn’t a helpful observation. Still, he had to check himself to keep from following her down the hall under the lame excuse of checking to make sure she had enough blankets. Alexa wouldn’t appreciate his hovering, especially with her stalker situation giving her the willies.

  He did allow himself to putter around, double-checking the house’s security and getting things ready for the morning before going up to bed. Lingering downstairs also allowed him to keep an ear out in case Alexa needed anything. He’d forgotten to tell her where his room was in case she had a question, but she could probably guess it was upstairs.

  He rinsed the coffeepot and wiped it dry. When Granddad died, he’d left the house clean of everything but the big furniture. Personal belongings had been kept by Granddad’s secretary at the college and passed out to Drew and his cousins according to the will. The house, with its furniture and library of books, had been left to Drew. His cousins had been compensated for their portion of what the house would have sold for.

  When Drew had moved in, he’d been grateful that Granddad left him a house that was ready to be lived in. The place had been a bit dusty since Granddad had passed away almost a year before Dad, and Drew hadn’t taken possession until several months after his father’s funeral.

  The guest room where Alexa was staying had been Drew’s room during his visits. When he’d painted the rooms and rearranged the furniture, it had seemed appropriate to hang his father’s photos in that room. Now they would keep Alexa company.

  The door to the guest bedroom opened, and a moment later, the shower started. Drew listened to the smooth sound of running water and tried to keep images of Alexa, naked with hot water running over her body, out of his head. He remembered her skin being incredibly smooth, and her hair turned dark in the water, making a sharper contrast against her fair skin. The spray would form tiny beads on her breasts—

  Drew reined in his thoughts and headed upstairs to his own room. Time for a little distraction before he drove himself crazy.

  The watcher curled his lip in bitter amusement as he peered through the brightly lit window. On the other side of the glass pane, Keri was dressed in panties and a thin white top, combing out her long black hair. She was obviously quite vain about her silky tresses, and the watcher considered slipping into her house while she slept and cutting her hair off, just to teach her a lesson. Perhaps he could mark up her face a bit too. Women needed constant supervision, or they got above themselves, and this woman seemed to think she had something Alexa didn’t.

  But the project didn’t hold his interest.

  Where was that chit Alexa? She obviously wasn’t with Keri. He’d observed her house for long enough to be sure. And if Alexa wasn’t staying with her beanpole friend, where was the little pigeon hiding?

  He should have stuck around after drowning her cats. But he’d hurried home, so he would be there when Alexa called him after she found the dead kitties. He was a neighbor, of sorts, and he had land where they could be buried. She should have called him.

  Instead, his plan had gotten messed up when one of the kittens escaped. Then Alexa had disappeared. But he would find her. There were only so many places she could run. And when he found her, he would fix her good. No more of this idiotic independence thing. She needed a strong man in her life to remind her of her place, which she’d been forgetting. It would be unpleasant for her, but Alexa would be getting what she deserved. Could he help it if he enjoyed being the one to give it to her?

  Chapter Eight

  Alexa woke with sunshine and shade in a leafy pattern on her face. It took her a minute to orient herself. She was at Drew’s house in the guest bedroom. The clock read almost eight, so she’d really slept in.

  Rolling onto her back, she looked around at the photos on the walls and smiled. Her dream last night had been… interesting. She’d missed her fur babies when she’d gone to bed, and she worried about how the cats were doing. But the dream she’d woken up from was all about Drew. He’d been cooking in the kitchen, but he was bare-chested, and the whole scene had been doused in rich sunset colors. Her mind had played it out in slow motion. Every movement of his strong arms and every ripple of his muscles had been painted in lurid crimson and gold. She could almost smell the tangy scent of him and feel the heat that radiated off of him, just like the rays from the sun. Who knew she had such an imagination?

  Sounds from the kitchen reminded Alexa that time was passing, and she pushed her dream aside. Fantasies were all very well in the night, but she had a long day ahead of her and didn’t need to be blushing every time Drew made eye contact.

  She rolled out of bed and grabbed her bathroom bag. When her foot touched the floor, she winced. But with each step afterward, it loosened up and hurt less. Maybe she could do a bit of gentle sparring today. There was no doubt that working out would be good for her soul.

  In the hallway, she caught the invigorating aroma of rich coffee, so she hurried through her morning ritual. The coffee smelled divine, and she didn’t want to give herself time to fret over how much makeup to wear or how to do her hair. What exactly was the right look when one’s day included a touch of sweaty sparring, an interview with a police detective, and plenty of time spent with an old lover turned benign enemy and rescuer? Oh, and she didn’t want to forget that she was finishing the day off at the library to get a jump on sorting the donations.

  Back in the bedroom, Alexa pulled on a nice pair of slacks that she trusted wouldn’t wrinkle and her favorite turquoise sweater. She’d left her sparring uniform at Crouching Tiger the night before, so she would have to change there. She added a pair of dangly earrings made of polished stone, which she’d picked up at a Saturday street festival. Slipping on a pair of comfortable mules that wouldn’t bother her scraped foot, she followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen.

  Drew was whisking eggs and looked up with a grin when she walked in. He glanced at the clock then back at Alexa. “Good timing. Your omelet has to go on now if it’s gonna be cooked in time for you to eat it before your sparring class. You saved yourself from my creative use of fillers.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks.” Alexa glanced over the array of fillers sitting beside the cooktop, feeling incredibly spoiled. Drew’s ability to cook had been a total surprise, and she dared not dwell on how she felt about it—or how she felt about her dream. “I’ll have broccoli, spinach, tomatoes, and the cheese blend.” She poured herself a cup of coffee then turned back to face Drew. “And good morning.”

  “Good morning.” Drew turned his slow smile on her, the one that left her insides melting, while the rest of her felt as though a burst of butterflies were fluttering in every direction. Maybe it was the
residual effects of her dream, but this time, Alexa held his chocolate-brown eyes and gave him a slow smile in return.

  When Drew was the first to break the look, Alexa felt a smug grin tugging at her lips and lowered her eyes to her mug. Okay, so maybe he just wanted to keep her omelet from burning, but she felt powerful, sensual, in a way she hadn’t for a long time… maybe not since she was last with Drew.

  Shaking off that thought, Alexa pulled out her cell and went to sit at the kitchen table. She needed to call the vet and see how her kitties were doing. And okay, maybe she needed to think about something that wasn’t Drew.

  Dr. Springer was happy to launch into a full report on the cats. Drew set Alexa’s omelet in front of her, and she nodded her thanks, but her attention was on her conversation with the vet. Oreo and Ragbag were doing great and eating normally, but Fieldgar was struggling to throw off the combined effects of the sleeping medicine and a cold from the water. He’d eaten more of the medicine than the others and had a more sluggish metabolism. Dr. Springer was hopeful that he would improve during the day, but he needed to be kept for observation. He suggested that Alexa leave all the cats a little longer. He thought that keeping Oreo and Ragbag as company would help Fieldgar reach a full recovery.

  Alexa agreed that was best and promised to check in again later in the day. She hung up and started on her omelet. The eggs were fluffy, and the veggies were cooked just right. Her heart and stomach were grateful for the simple comfort as her mind turned over the phone call. Dr. Springer had sounded optimistic and upbeat, but underneath his words were the things not said. Fieldgar had experienced a serious overdose, and it was possible he wouldn’t recover.

  A warm, strong hand slipped over hers, and Alexa looked up to see Drew watching her.

  “They’ll be okay,” he said gently. “Dr. Springer would tell you if there was any real concern. He would have you come in so you could be there if things went south. The cats will be okay.”

  Tears sprang to Alexa’s eyes at this unexpected comfort, but she blinked them away and smiled shakily. “You’re right. Fieldgar’s just a big cat and taking a little longer. I’m sure they’ll all be okay.”

  Drew gave her hand a little squeeze of encouragement then gathered their plates and rinsed them. A few minutes of tidying later, and they were ready to head into town. Alexa gulped down the last of her coffee and grabbed her purse.

  “So, why Fieldgar?” Drew asked as he started up the truck. “I’m not up on cat names, but isn’t that one a bit unusual?”

  “It’s actually taken from the name of a highly famous cat that I’m sure you’re very familiar with.” Alexa chuckled at Drew’s puzzled face. “Garfield, the comic strip cat. I just gave his name a tweak. Fieldgar looks like his famous friend, and eats like him, but unlike Garfield, he’s got a sweet disposition and a generous heart.”

  “Ergo, Fieldgar,” Drew said with an appreciative laugh. “I like it. I look forward to getting to know him better.”

  Alexa smiled, comforted by their shared good humor. But as she settled back in her seat, her mind replayed Drew’s last sentence. Did he just assume they would see the cats sometime before the stalker left them free to go their separate ways, or was he suggesting that they would continue as friends after the danger had passed? Did he want to start seeing Alexa in a romantic way? And how would she react if he did?

  Drew was quiet as he drove through town, and Alexa watched him while pretending not to. Today, he was wearing a close-knit turtleneck, with a blazer-style jacket over it. He looked good—too good for her peace of mind.

  At least she no longer wanted to grind his face in the dirt and stomp on it. It was hard to maintain that level of animosity toward someone who fed her good food, took her in when she needed a safe haven, and offered comfort when she was sad. But despite all that, she still didn’t trust him as a boyfriend. She really, really didn’t trust him as a boyfriend. And she wasn’t sure she cared for him as a person, either. How did she even know his motives in taking her in were altruistic? Didn’t Rangers go after their objectives by any means? So why not butter Alexa up by being the white knight in exchange for her promoting goodwill toward his MMA club? But if that was his reason for turning into Mr. Nice Guy, how would she know?

  When Alexa left sparring, she was tired and sticky with sweat, limping a bit on her aching foot, but she was thoroughly calm. That was one reason she loved martial arts. When it came to burning off excess energy and angst, it was the next best thing to sex. And she hadn’t had any of that since moving back to Willowdale after finishing her library science degree. Sparring was not only easier to come by, it was much, much safer.

  When the last sparring class was dismissed, Alexa looked up to see Detective Rawlings standing by the office door. The detective had watched her sons’ sparring class, and she was dressed in jeans and a sweater. She lifted her checkbook at Alexa then smiled and nodded toward the office.

  Alexa excused herself to the other black belts and followed Detective Rawlings into the office, closing the door behind her. “I’m assuming that was your very subtle way of saying we need to talk?”

  Detective Rawlings smiled. “You guessed it, but I really do need to make a tuition payment as well. Would you mind looking up what I owe while I fill you in?”

  Alexa nodded and slipped behind the desk so she could pull up the tuition accounts on the computer. She pushed aside the orange candle to make room.

  “That’s the candle left by the stalker?” Detective Rawlings leaned in for a closer look.

  “I’m guessing it was left by him,” Alexa answered. “It was the first item left for me and had no note beyond my name in gold glitter.”

  Detective Rawlings nodded and sat back after inspecting the candle. “It’s looks to be a generic make and seems unexceptional beyond the personalization, which was done after purchase. Probably dozens of fingerprints, too, since it’s been sitting in this office. All the same, I’ll send one of the guys by to pick it up sometime when no one is around to notice it being carted off. I’d rather not alert anyone here that we’re suspicious.”

  Alexa looked up from the computer. “Does that mean you believe the stalker comes to Crouching Tiger?”

  “Not necessarily.” Detective Rawlings shook her head. “We still need to get a list of guys you’ve dated, and consider other possible angles. And additionally, we can’t dismiss the possibility that Jason Stone has come back, probably motivated by revenge. It’s my instinct that stalking you isn’t his style, but he was released from prison in April.”

  Alexa froze, her muscles going rigid. “He’s out? And has been free for six months? But he hasn’t finished his sentence!”

  Detective Rawlings spoke in a soothing tone. “His sentence was reduced, which is common enough. However, I’m checking with his parole officer, and we’ll keep careful tabs on his whereabouts.” She lifted a calming hand. “I promise that we will take every precaution, and I’ll give Drew his description, but I don’t believe he’s our best suspect.”

  Alexa blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Okay, I guess. I mean, it’s been years, and he lives most of the way across the country. Plus, surely I’d have recognized him if he was hanging around town.”

  “There you go,” Detective Rawlings said. “Until I hear back from his parole officer, we’ll move on with the possible candidates from right here in Willowdale. The situation with the keys points toward someone who could move freely within Crouching Tiger, which unfortunately leaves us with a large pool of suspects. For that reason and others, I’d prefer we keep things quiet and discreet until we have a better sense of what we’re up against.”

  Alexa nodded. “Fine by me.” She glanced at the computer, which was beeping a warning that she would be logged out if she continued to ignore it. “You had a credit on your account but still owe sixty-eight dollars for this month’s tuition for your boys.”
r />   “Great, thanks.” Detective Rawlings wrote out a check for the amount and passed it over to Alexa. “Given the need for discretion, I’d rather not fingerprint you here. Too many curious people. Is there somewhere else that comes to mind, or would you rather come down to the station?”

  “How about the library?” Alexa asked. “I’m not working circulation today, just stopping in to do some sorting. We could talk in one of the back rooms, and no one would be the wiser.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Detective Rawlings stood up. “I’ll meet you there in, say, half an hour?”

  Alexa nodded. “I’ll be there.” She followed Detective Rawlings out of the office then headed back for a quick shower in the women’s changing room. As she walked through the dojo, she texted Drew’s cell and asked him to meet them at the library. He offered to pick her up, but she said no. The library was a public place, and no one would think anything about Drew being there. But if they arrived together, someone would notice. Besides, he was her ride back to his house—not her babysitter.

  Keri caught up to Alexa at the door to the locker room. “Sure you won’t change your mind and come party with us?”

  Alexa shook her head. “No, I have to put in some time at the library. But if you could give me a minute to clean up, I’ll let you give me a ride over there and claim my staff parking spot. Best possible parking for the festival!”

  Keri laughed. “Done and done. Just come to the lobby when you’re ready.”

  Alexa nodded and hurried to get cleaned up.

  Chapter Nine

  An hour later, in a back room of the library, Alexa sat across from Detective Rawlings with several boxes of books beside her. “So that’s it,” Alexa said. “I haven’t been on any other dates. Unless you count an outing this summer with Brian, Stuart, and Keri, but that was really a group thing.” She picked up another book from the stack in front of her and put it in the box that would go on the table of two-dollar books.

 

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