by MCCOY, JUDI
She shook her head. “I’m still trying to process it all. Right now, Buddy is my only concern. What’s going to happen to him? Who’s going to take care of him?”
He clasped her hand. “I know this ordeal has been difficult for you. It’s hard for me to commiserate, because I’m not a dog lover, but it’s apparent you’re having a problem dealing with . . . things.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she answered, dabbing her eyes with her free hand. “Buddy is desolate.”
“Are you sure you’re not projecting your emotions onto the dog?” he asked, though it was apparent he didn’t believe his own words. “Sort of a transferal of feelings?”
“I’m not.” She sighed. “Buddy is a wreck.”
Standing, he headed for the door. “Let me see what I can do about Ms. Pernell. Hang tight for a minute.”
Rudy snorted as the door closed. “He just doesn’t get it, does he?”
“I don’t want to go with Victoria or stay in a shelter,” Buddy said, his tone a plaintive whine. “Please, Ellie, take me home with you.”
“I think that’s going to depend on the professor’s niece.” She sniffed back more tears. She’d just started to pull into the black financially. She could only imagine the amount of money the professor’s niece would demand for Buddy, so there was no way she could afford to buy him outright. Still, she might be able to take out a loan or borrow what she needed from the judge. Sitting back in the molded plastic chair, she hugged the bichon to her chest. “Detective Ryder said he’d talk to Ms. Pernell. Maybe he’ll come up with something.”
Five minutes later there was a knock on the door; then a man strode into the room, followed by Sam. The man held out a hand as big as a dinner plate. “I’m Michael Carmody, Ms. Engleman. Ryder’s just filled me in on a potential problem.”
Ellie set Buddy on the conference table, and the captain engulfed her hand is his. “I know. I shouldn’t have stuck my nose into the investigation or gotten involved with the arrest.” She stiffened her spine. “But I’d follow Mitchell—I mean Forentsky—to his house again if need be. Buddy was in danger and I had to—”
“I take it this is Buddy?” The captain’s gray eyes focused on the bichon.
“This is Buddy. He’s a Westminster—”
“Champion. I know.” Carmody held out his fingers for the bichon to sniff, which Buddy did; then the captain ran his hand across the dog’s back in a slow and gentle manner. “I watched his big win on television a couple of years back. He’s quite a competitor.”
Ellie opened and closed her mouth. “He’s a wonderful dog.”
“How old is he again?”
“He’s eight, but bichons can live a good fifteen years, even longer if they’re cared for properly.” She gazed at Sam, noting his smug look and knowing smile. “He belongs in a home with owners who will love him as he deserves to be loved.”
The captain nodded, then cleared his throat. “Sam, get Ms. Pernell on the phone for me, will you? Tell her there’s someone at the precinct who needs to talk with her.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re going on a date. A real, honest-to-god, man-to-woman, I-might-get-laid date.” Vivian beamed as she watched Ellie dress. “No, not that sweater, it’s too baggy. Try on the red one. And wear those Ferragamos with the sling backs. Lucky thing your feet didn’t expand like the rest of you did after the divorce, and you can still wear all those yummy shoes.”
“Size nine since I was eleven,” Ellie observed, reaching for a pair of flats.
Viv shook her head when she spotted the plain black shoes. “Ugh. Those are so boring.”
“Boring but comfortable. Heels are killers, and I don’t enjoy wearing them.”
“Okay, but try on that cute little skirt, the one with the slit up the side. You’re legs are one of your best features.”
“I’m going to dinner, not a job interview at a strip club.” Ellie tugged the sweater Viv suggested over her head, stepped into a pair of black slacks, then slid on the flats. “And I don’t plan on getting laid.”
“Don’t bet on it,” her friend said, grinning. “Ryder’s had the hots for you from day one. I’ll bet he’s planning on it.”
“I rest my case,” said Rudy, observing the proceedings from the queen-sized bed. “Viv has a lot on the ball, especially where humping is concerned.”
Ellie frowned in his direction. “You are so bad.”
“Not bad, just practical,” Viv responded, unaware there was a second conversation taking place in the room. “And always prepared.” She opened her Chanel handbag, brought out a box of prophylactics, and tossed them on the coverlet. “I bought these this afternoon. Ribbed for a woman’s pleasure. Say thank you, and tuck a few in your purse.”
“Maybe you’d better do what she says, Triple E. Remember Ryder’s pheromones.”
Plopping on the mattress, Ellie eyed the Trojans. “I’m not even going to pick the box up, so you might as well take it home. I’m sure you’ll need them soon.”
“I certainly hope so, and smart-assed insults will not make me change my mind on the subject.” Viv crossed her arms. “And don’t tell me you have condoms stashed in your nightstand or your medicine cabinet, because I’d have to see them before I’d believe it.”
Ellie warmed from her head to her toes. Between her dog and her best friend, she was mortified. “You’re right. I don’t have any, nor will I need them. This is just a friendly dinner at Ryder’s expense. A payback for helping him with the case.”
“Keep telling yourself that, girlfriend, but I know better.” Viv followed her into the kitchen. “I still can’t believe the bit about the Liquid Ice guy, by the way. I hope they toss him in the slammer and throw away the key.”
“Sam warned me he’d go the way of all smart crooks and cop a plea or some such nonsense. If he does, he’ll be eligible for parole in no time. And he said they dropped the old forgery charges when he magically recalled the owners’ names and addresses of all the dogs he’d stolen.” She shook her head. “I really want to testify so I can tell them about the emotional damage the creep caused.”
“And what’s going to happen to Goth girl?”
“Sam say’s one year, at the most. Which means she’ll be back on the street in less than three months. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
“But she’ll never walk dogs again. That’s got to be some consolation.” Viv set her elbows on the table and propped her chin. “And the good thing is, you got most of her clients.”
“Some, not all. Rita Millcraft is moving out of the city, and a few of Bibi’s customers live below Fifty-ninth. That was my cutoff point, if you’ll recall.”
“Still, things worked out great for Buddy. That police captain is the perfect new owner.”
It had taken a hefty chunk of Captain Carmody’s change and some cajoling to convince the professor’s niece not to put Buddy up for auction, but he’d charmed the woman to his side by telling her he was buying the dog as a gift for his wife on their fortieth wedding anniversary. According to Sam, the captain had practically made Ms. Pernell cry when he mentioned the first bichon they’d owned.
“I think so, too. As I’ve always said, things happen for a reason. Not that the professor had to die so Mr. and Mrs. Carmody could get a new bichon, but because they’re definitely the right mom and dad for him. And the little guy seemed to like them—”
“How could you tell?” Viv asked. “Wait. Let me guess—the dog told you so.”
Ellie rested her backside against the counter. “I know you don’t believe me, but he did.”
“I bet the big, bad detective was thrilled to hear that.”
Sam had simply rolled his eyes, though the captain and his wife seemed to immediately sense her connection with Buddy and her worry over finding the proper adoptive parents. They’d even invited her to drop by their home whenever to make certain the bichon was happy.
“Ryder didn’t say much, but then he never does unless he has a ser
ious opinion.”
“The strong, silent type. Mmm . . . delicious.”
The buzzer rang, and Ellie’s heart skipped a beat as she walked into the foyer. “He’s right on time.”
“Anal, like I said,” Rudy chimed.
“A man who knows how to properly gauge time, especially in the bedroom, is worth his weight in gold,” Viv decreed.
“You’re wrong,” Ellie said to Rudy, though her gaze rested on her best friend. “I mean, it doesn’t matter, because we won’t be spending any time in that room.”
The buzzer rang again.
“Well, answer it. Unless you want me to go downstairs and let him in?” Viv offered. “And don’t forget, I’m taking Rudy for a walk when I give Twink his last out. That way, when you come home, the road to the bedroom will be clear.”
Ellie pressed the button, then put her hand on Viv’s lower back and ushered her from the apartment. “Thanks for that. Now good night.”
A minute later there was a knock on the door.
“I can’t believe you’re going out with the creep. I think I’m gonna hurl,” said Rudy, planting himself at her feet.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “Go to the bedroom if you can’t face Sam in a refined canine manner.”
“With pleasure.” Muttering, the Yorkiepoo sauntered down the hall with his tail held high.
Ellie licked her lips and fluffed her hair, pasted a smile on her face, and opened the door. Dressed in formfitting faded jeans, a chocolate brown sweater, and a camel-colored blazer, Sam looked better than any man had a right to. Heat suffused her cheeks as his honey gold gaze swept over her.
He smiled and thrust out a bouquet of bright yellow tulips. “I got them at the florist over on Eighty-third. Thought they’d add a festive touch to tonight’s celebration.”
Accepting the flowers, she stepped back so he could enter. “They’re lovely. Let me put them in a vase, and we can take off.” She searched a kitchen cabinet, found a cut-glass container, and filled it with water. Arranging the tulips, she set the vase on the table. “Thanks again. It was a very thoughtful gesture.”
“You might not believe this, but I do try.” He took her arm. “Does your dog have to go out before we leave?”
The question surprised her. Was he actually concerned about Rudy’s welfare? Was he starting to understand how much the little guy meant to her?
“He’s good for the night.” Thanks to Vivian. “All set?”
“Ready to go.”
After she locked her door, he led her downstairs and to the curb, then hailed a taxi, and helped her inside.
“Where’s your car?”
“In a nice, safe, legal parking space. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf and cut down on the citations.” He gave an address to the driver and leaned back in the seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Remember that buddy I told you about? The one in Traffic Violations?”
“The officer who fixes your—”
“The very one,” he interrupted. “His uncle owns Bella Luna, so he put in a good word and got us a table, but I had to promise to go easy on future paperwork.”
Impressed that he’d gone to some trouble to make the evening perfect, she smiled. He really wasn’t such a bad guy. Maybe they did have a chance at forging a relationship. “It’s been a couple of weeks since the arrest. I appreciate the phone calls updating me on the case.”
“I only wish I’d had better news. As far as I’m concerned, both Fortensky and Stormstein are getting off easy. The captain thought so, too, if that’s any consolation.”
“Speaking of the captain, has he said how Buddy’s doing?”
“Carmody asked me to tell you things are great. Said his wife is thrilled, and Buddy seems to be settling in fine.”
“Did he mention my coming to visit?”
“Told me you should call him and work out a date. He suggested I come with you, if that’s okay with you.”
Could the captain be a matchmaker, as well as a dog lover? “I’d like that.”
He clasped her hand, and she smiled. “You know something? So would I.”
After a memorable meal at a restaurant with inviting decor, old-world elegance, and delicious food, Ellie and Sam cabbed back to her apartment. The evening had been fun. They’d made small talk and discussed things that had little to do with the case and everything to do with them personally. Their light, flirtatious banter made it an intimate yet enjoyable evening.
Now, at her apartment door, it was obvious from the way Sam dismissed the taxi that he intended to come inside. She handed him her keys, and he undid the locks. “I have beer and wine, or I could make coffee.”
With his amber eyes smoldering, he focused on her mouth. “I don’t need alcohol. I’m high just being with you.”
Her stomach hitched, but it was too late to answer. When he pressed into her, she closed her eyes and raised her lips, and he melted her resolve with a gentle kiss that grew so demanding it made her blood race and her legs tremble.
Then he led her inside and slammed the door with a kick. Stepping near, he raised a brow. “I’m reaching here, Ellie, trying to figure out what happens next. I feel like a sixteen-year-old on his first date.”
“But you’re not sixteen, and neither am I,” she whispered.
“Thank God for that.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and brushed his nose against hers.
She tilted her head, and he kissed her again, and this time Ellie thought she’d died and gone to heaven. What had she been so worried about? Sam was here, and he wanted her. She wanted him. What else was there to say?
He continued kissing her as they edged down the hall. “Which way to the bedroom?” he muttered into her mouth.
“The room on the right. Hurry.” She slid the blazer from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor, where it was quickly joined by her jacket. He kept them walking as her sweater, shoes, and slacks slid from her quivering body.
By the time they arrived at their desired destination, she stood in her bra and panties, gazing at him in the pale light of the hallway. “One of us is wearing too many clothes.”
He slipped off his shoes and stepped out of his slacks, then tugged the sweater and T-shirt up his shoulders and over his head. “Better?”
“Much.”
Stalking her with a sexy grin, he pushed her onto the bed. She groaned when his lips grazed her neck, glided to the swell of her breasts, tongued her nipple through the silk of her bra.
Rudy growled his displeasure, jumped off the bed, and padded from the room, but his departure barely registered. It had been too long since she’d been touched by a man, and Sam was starving. His searching hands caressed her skin while his hungry mouth suckled her breasts, tongued her navel, licked her knees, and tasted every point in between.
The bed became a comforting haven, a joyous play-ground, a dangerous war zone. They rolled together, shifting positions, and she marveled at the feel of his fingers skimming her body, teasing her nipples, learning her curves. He groaned when she captured him in her hands and gauged his length, palmed his butt, delved intimately between his legs.
Her insides hummed with pent-up frustration when he left her to find his wallet, but she smiled at the sound of tearing foil. Maybe she’d need Vivian’s jumbo box of Trojans after all.
He kneeled between her thighs, and his teeth flashed white in the darkness. “I want to make this good for you, Ellie. The best you’ve ever had.”
“It’s been pretty darn wonderful so far,” she told him. “But I’m greedy. I want more.”
He lay on top of her, nestled between her thighs, and rose onto his hands, pushing inside of her, thrusting his hips slowly, steadily, until she writhed beneath him.
“Oh, God, Sam. Please finish this before I scream.”
Mindful of her request, he took her in long, deliberate strokes, building the tension between them until Ellie thought she’d fly from the bed. She pounded his back wit
h her fists, clawed his shoulders, shouted her pleasure until, finally, he shuddered and collapsed on her chest with a groan.
Ellie fought the urge to open her eyes. She had to pee, but the bed was warm, and her muscles ached . . . in a very good way.
A muffled snore made her smile. Last night had been amazing. Sam had been the lover of her dreams for two stupendous bouts of sex—intuitive, caring, and thoughtful during both couplings. As the first man she’d allowed into her bed since her divorce, he was everything she’d hoped for.
The snores continued, and she furrowed her forehead. When they turned to a whimper, she blinked with recognition. Rolling to her side, she locked eyes with Rudy, his fuzzy head resting on the pillow where she’d hoped to find Sam.
His doggie lips curved into a grin. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
She blew out a breath. “Where’s Sam?”
Yawning, he stretched. “Who?”
“Sam Ryder.” She listened for sounds from the bathroom or kitchen. “The man I shared this bed with last night.”
Rudy stood and gave a full-body shake. “Sorry. Don’t know the guy.”
She frowned. “Never mind. I’ll look for myself.” Throwing off the covers, she slipped on her robe and tied the belt. In the hall, she strained to hear the shower, then sniffed, hoping for the scent of coffee. No such luck.
Padding toward the front of the apartment, she saw no sign of their clothes until she reached the living room, where she found her sweater, slacks, and underthings folded in a neat pile on the sofa. Still unsure of the situation, she walked into the kitchen, where Rudy was already sitting by his food dish waiting for his morning nibble.
“See. Nobody here but us chickens,” he all but shouted. “I told you it would be like this.”
She spotted a note on the table and took it in hand.
Ellie,
Got called out on a case at five a.m. Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll phone you later.
Sam