Felix bit his lip and ran his eyes down her body. “And in the meantime, I’ll be checking out yours.”
“I have ways of dealing with bad dogs like you,” she warned with a hint of a smile. “Sit,” she ordered.
Felix returned to his position in the waiting area with a smirk.
“Good boy.”
Addison could feel his eyes on her as she began, first meticulously working out the cherry pink bubble-gum, one glob at a time.
“So how long have you been in business?” Felix asked her.
“About two years now,” she said. “Princess was actually my inspiration for finally taking the chance.”
“How so? She loan you the money?”
Addison snorted. “Because show dog or not, I believe every dog deserves the same care and attention. They’re all beautiful in their own way. I just like to help them look as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. And Princess is just as beautiful as any other show dog.”
“Did Princess ever compete?”
“She was bred to be a show dog, but it just wasn’t in the cards for her. She was born with one leg shorter than the others.”
Felix was quiet for a moment, and when she looked over at him, his mouth was pursed thoughtfully, different from his usual sly smirk. “She hides the defect well. You’d hardly know unless you looked closely.”
His scrutiny made her uncomfortable. She got that feeling again, like he could see through her makeup, past the perfectly liquid-lined eyes, through the sun-kissed bronzer, and under the pouty pink lips to the real her.
Addison ducked her head, focusing intently on Oliver’s tail. “Just because a dog has a so-called defect, doesn’t mean they’re any less perfect or lovable than the next one. Everyone deserves to be happy.”
“Dog,” he said.
“What?”
“Every dog. You said everyone.” The serious expression remained on his face.
“Oh.” She laughed it off. “Whatever. You understood what I meant.”
His lips pursed again and he nodded. “I think I do. For the first time, I think I finally understand you.”
Addison doubled her vigorous scrubbing, ready to finish the conversation. When she’d combed the last glob of it out, she patted the side of her leg and called Oliver over to the shower stalls.
He lopped after her, toenails clicking on the tiles. She made a mental note to cut them after a quick hair trim.
Once Oliver was in the pink mosaic shower stall, Addison turned on the rain shower. Water drizzled down from above like a warm tropical storm. For a minute, the dog tensed and danced skittishly. Once she began to work the seaweed and jasmine cleanser into his matted fur, he relaxed under her massaging hands. His leg began vibrating with pleasure at each scratch of her nails under his chin, a little to the left, in that “Oh yeah, right there” spot.
The last of the suds finally washed down the drain. Addison reached over to turn off the water. When she straightened up, she felt something press against her from behind.
She yelped in surprise and spun around. Out of instinct she clenched her fist, realizing too late that the spray nozzle was still in her hand.
The trigger activated. Water shot out. Felix yelped, jumping back, but not before his plaid shirt was soaked through.
Addison dropped the nozzle and held a hand to her mouth, mostly to hide her giggles. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even hear you sneak up.”
Felix gave her a sour look. He spread his arms out helplessly. To add salt to the wound, Oliver hopped out of the shower and shook his coat, spraying Felix from head to toe before going to curl up next to Princess.
Pressing her lips together to hide her smile, Addison shrugged innocently. “At least I didn’t ruin a nice shirt.”
Now his expression darkened. That predatory look was back. Addison was already shuffling back as he took his first step toward her.
“Now look,” she said, in a totally calm and reasonable manner, “it was just an accident.”
He took another step, forcing her back. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his phone and laid it on the table outside of the shower stalls. She didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good.
“Let me get you a towel,” she offered, trying to go around him.
But Felix cut her off. His lowered gaze was fixed on hers. His fan of thick black lashes made his eyes look darker as he glowered menacingly. There was the smallest hint of a smile, but it had a devilish tinge to it.
His shoes squelched on the wet tiles until he’d backed her all the way to the shower at the end of the row.
Addison hesitated at the edge of the stall. “I just reacted. I didn’t mean to spray you.”
He was nose to nose with her, or rather forehead to chin, since he was that much taller. Without a word, he took a final step and forced her back into the stall. Reaching out, he grasped the shower handle.
Addison gasped. “Don’t you d—”
She squealed as water shot down from above, feeling not so much like a soothing tropical rainforest sprinkle as it did a chilly Dublin mist.
Gasping and grunting between short breaths, she scrambled to push past him and out of the stall. But Felix planted a hand on either side of her, his thick arms caging her in.
“Not so fast,” he said.
Felix was in the shower with her now, water drenching his hair, plastering the dark curls to his face and neck. His T-shirt molded to his body like Superman’s spandex, revealing the contours and swells of a figure not unlike the Man of Steel’s.
As though her hands had a mind of their own, they reached up, crawling their way over his six-pack that she’d gotten a sneak preview of the night before.
He ducked his head, bringing his face closer to hers. Water ran in a stream down the bridge of his nose and hit her cheek, connecting their bodies. She imagined she could feel the connection. Could sense the heat from his body warming the water before it ran across her own skin, down her neck, her chest, past her neckline to caress her breasts. It was like an extension of his own body exploring hers, a finger running lightly down her stomach, soaking into the lace of her underwear.
Addison closed the space between them. She pressed her lips against his, water sprinkling into her mouth. It mixed with the taste of his kiss as she sucked the water from his lips, as though she could drink him in.
The shower rained down on her bare arms and shoulders, tickling, energizing. Her skin felt electrically charged, sensitive to every touch.
While his tongue played with hers in a teasing game, rivulets of water ran from the hem of her drenched dress, down the curves of her legs, snaking along her thighs. Her nipples hardened under the cool water, skin tightened, breath hitched.
Felix backed her up to the tiles and pressed himself against her. His hot hands moved like refreshing fire over the swells of her breasts and up her neck. His lips moved faster against her own, harder and harder, his tongue filling her mouth with his hungry desire.
Addison felt the drizzle of water rushing over them as though it were the salty spray of seawater on a pirate ship in the Caribbean. She closed her eyes. Yes, they were on the Black Pearl. Felix was her Jack Sparrow and she was his naughty wench. Even caught in a raging storm, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, their lust keeping them warm.
Through her thin dress she felt the heat of his hands. His grip tightened over the swell of her ample hips and pulled them closer to his, grinding them against his own until it was no longer just water soaking her underwear.
Eager hands searched her body, gripped her butt, assessing the size, the weight, the feel of it through the fabric. Fingers explored the hemline of her dress, pushing it up her thigh until those exploring fingers traced the edge of her panties. They tugged at them but went no further, as though knocking at her door, waiting for an invitation.
She answered the gentle knock by reaching down to his belt and with a flick of leather, a jingle of metal, there came th
e satisfying zip as she pulled out Jack Sparrow’s mighty cutlass sword.
Then there was a ding, like someone had forgotten to turn off their cell phone during a movie.
The sound snapped Addison back to reality like a cold shower—aided by the fact that they were actually in a cold shower. It was the front door. Someone had entered the spa.
Breaking away from Felix, Addison pushed against his chest. Why did this keep happening? Why did she keep letting it? Not letting it, encouraging it. Jack Sparrow was the bad boy. Bad, she repeated in her head.
Felix was like a scary movie that she knew she should shut off, but she kept watching through her fingers despite herself. Yet, as he leaned against the tiled wall across from her catching his breath, his fly splayed open, dripping wet, the only thing scary was just how bad she wanted him.
And maybe that wasn’t the worst thing. Maybe for once her instincts were right, her heart’s as well as her primal instincts. Maybe she’d made so many mistakes that she was lumping him in with all the rest. When in reality, she’d found her prince beneath those pauper’s clothes. She’d found her Aladdin.
Addison turned off the shower, and that’s when she heard the high-pitched “Hello-o-o?”
“Oh no,” Addison hissed. “It’s Julia. I wasn’t expecting her for another couple of hours.” She glanced down at her sopping dress. How was she going to explain this? Some professional she was.
“Coming!” she called, wringing out some of the water dripping from her sodden outfit. But it was futile. Unsure of how she was going to explain her appearance, she sighed and reluctantly headed up front.
When Julia spotted Addison, she pushed her Prada sunglasses on top of her head. Her eyes bulged as she took Addison in from her tangled hair to the puddle forming under her.
“What on Earth happened to you?”
“I, umm…” Addison heard shuffling feet behind her and cringed. She should have told Felix to stay put. The situation was bad enough already. Gritting her teeth, she turned to glare at him.
Felix was holding the wrench she usually kept under the sink. “A line burst,” he told Julia, waving the wrench like it was cold hard evidence. “Water everywhere. It’s best you stay clear.”
Julia looked as surprised as Addison felt. “Oh dear. Your poor dress, Addison.”
Addison’s expression froze in what she hoped was angelic innocence. Cheeks burning, she clapped her hands and changed the subject. “You must be missing Precious.”
“Yes.” Julia set down her Coach purse. “How is my boy?”
“He’s just hanging out in the lounge. Right this way, please.”
Addison did her best to block the woman’s view of the shower stalls and the pooling water on the floor.
As she passed Felix, she crossed her eyes in relief and mouthed “Thank you.”
He responded with a silent salute with the wrench.
Julia followed Addison past Princess and a damp Oliver to the playroom. “Where’s my Precious?” she called out as they walked down the hall. “Where’s my special little boy?”
“He’s waiting for you right back here.…” Addison tapered off as she opened the door.
With a shaking hand, she turned the dimmer switch up until every light in the room was blazing. Her body was suddenly crippled with fear. She’d been wrong before: this was the horror movie.
Addison leaned against the wall, her breaths coming in gulps, like she was drowning. Her frantic eyes scanned the space, from the toy box to the puppy palace to the lapdog lounge to the pillow pit.
But Precious was gone.
17
Give a Dog a Bad Name
“No. No. No.” Addison leaned against the doorframe, feeling like the lounge room was spinning. “This can’t be happening. Not again.”
Running past Julia and over to the pillow pit, she began tossing pillows aside. She rammed her head into the plastic halls of the puppy palace. But she couldn’t find head nor tail of her last remaining customer.
“Where is he?” Julia’s voice shook as she collapsed among the pillows. “Where’s my Precious? Precious!”
“Addison!” Felix called. “Back here!”
She followed the sound of Felix’s voice to the hall. He was headed for the door to the back alley still gripping the wrench. It had been left ajar, daylight streaming through.
She ran after him, Julia close on her heels, hissing “Precious! My Precious!” like a distraught Gollum from The Lord of the Rings.
Felix threw his weight against the metal door and burst into the alley. It swung open and Addison caught a glimpse of a dark van parked outside.
“Hey!” Felix yelled.
The door swung shut again, blocking Addison’s view. By the time she caught up and opened it again, Felix was struggling with the van’s back doors, heaving on the handles, one foot on the bumper for leverage.
Taking the wrench, he smashed in the back window, but there was metal mesh on the inside, preventing him from reaching in.
Addison ran to the passenger door where she could see a person sitting behind the wheel. She tried the handle but it was locked. Bringing a fist up, she banged on the window. When the person turned to her, their face was hidden beneath a black balaclava.
The driver fumbled with the keys before the engine started and revved. Addison was banging and kicking the door when she was grabbed from behind.
Her feet left the ground and she was whirled away just as the tires squeaked, skidding over where she’d been standing a second before. The van took off, leaving them in a cloud of dust.
Felix released Addison and took off after it on foot.
Coughing, Addison blinked her vision clear and stumbled after him. The van struggled to pick its way down the narrow alley. The garbage and parked cars created an obstacle course, forcing it to slow down.
Addison chased after Felix, but hindered by shorter legs, a wet dress clinging to her thighs, and flimsy ballet flats, she quickly fell behind. She didn’t think Dick Tracy had to deal with problems like this.
She watched Felix forge on, sprinting down the alley after the van, proving those muscles weren’t just for looks.
“Get ’em, Felix!” she cheered with more blood lust than she thought she had in her.
At the end of the alley the van cranked it, lilting to one side as it turned and peeled onto the main street.
Fists pumping, legs surging him forward, Felix ran out into the street after it. There was a screech of tires and a horn honk as a car narrowly missed him. Another skidded to a stop, inches from his body. Addison gasped, flinching from the sight.
But Felix leapt over the car’s hood and continued down the street after the van. Then he was gone from Addison’s sight.
There were distant sounds of horn honks and disrupted traffic. Addison’s heart skipped a beat with each noise. Her legs tensed, ready to run after him, to see that he was okay. But she hesitated, knowing she’d be of no help to him that way.
Going against her instincts, she dashed back into the spa. Julia hovered on the other side of the door tugging nervously on her pearl necklace.
“But, but, my Precious.” Her eyes bulged as she gripped Addison’s arms, frantic gel nails digging into her soft skin. “My Precious.”
Addison’s heart clenched for Julia’s sudden loss, but the sooner she called the police, the better. Addison wrenched away from her grip, and Julia’s blubbering faded away as she ran for the showers where Felix’s phone still lay on the counter. The moment she entered the room, Oliver and Princess got to their feet, ready for action.
Addison’s fingers shook as she dialed 9-1-1, in fact, her whole body was shaking. Partly from her cold, wet dress, but mostly from anger. No, fury. She’d never felt so furious in all her life, forget the positivity, forget the good cop, bad cop routine. She wanted blood. Someone was taking advantage of her, and she wasn’t going to stand for it. Now it was personal.
When the police picked up, she said, “Hello? Yes.
I own a spa and someone just stole my customer.”
“You’re reporting a kidnapping?” the female voice on the other end asked.
“Yes. They took him in a van and drove off with him. We tried to run after them but they got away.” Addison tried to rearrange her scattered thoughts to give as much detail as possible. Anything to help get Precious back.
“It’s important for your safety that you no longer follow them,” the operator advised. “Is anyone still in pursuit?”
“Yes. I think so, but I can’t contact him.” She frowned, wondering what would happen to Felix if he succeeded in catching up to the dognappers.
“Did you get a license plate number from the van?”
“No license plate,” Addison said. “But it was a dark van. Black, I think, with dark windows. It looked new.” She rattled off her spa’s address, just in case they wanted to send all units in the area ASAP.
“Did you see your customer when they were taken? Were they still conscious?”
The answer caught in Addison’s throat. She thought back and couldn’t recall hearing Precious bark or growl. There were no sounds of a fight. Surely she would have heard it. What if they’d done something to Precious, drugged or hurt him to keep him quiet?
“No I didn’t,” she said, finally. “But if he was conscious, I’m sure he would have been biting and scratching.”
The operator hesitated. “Biting?”
“Yes, he gives me a good nip, now and then.”
“Is he combative?”
“Only when I trim his nails,” Addison said, distracted. She was peeking out the storefront, hoping she would see Felix strolling up at any moment.
Julia hovered nearby, following Addison’s nervous pacing around the room like a shadow.
“What is his name?” the operator asked.
“Emerald Hill’s Sir Precious Vandersnout Edwards. But he goes by Precious.”
“Precious? Okay.…”
Addison could hear typing on the other end of the line.
“Can you describe Mr. Edwards for me?” the operator asked.
“He’s about fifteen inches tall, brown eyes, long blond hair.”
Beauty and the Wiener Page 18