Page 13 of Marked By Moonlight

After Krispy Kreme, she decided to stay inside. For some reason the smells and sounds of the city overwhelmed her, made her head spin. The early morning streetlights shone brighter, the horns and blares of rush hour traffic rang raucously in her sensitive ears.

She’d ordered takeout three times: Ding Lung’s, Domino’s, and KFC. She almost ordered a fourth time from her favorite Italian place, Angelo’s, but they always screwed up the order. The elderly woman who answered the phone never got it right. Yet Clairenever complained—just paid for her food and ate whatever she found inside the tin containers like a good girl. Yesterday would have been different. Things would have gotten ugly with the deliveryman if she got anything other than her correct order.

Sadly, reality nosed its ugly head through the take-out debris and her soap opera marathon. The gray light of Tuesday morning dawned outside her window, reminding her that duty called.

An array of khaki, brown, and white garments filled her closet, a safari adventurer’s dream, but certainly not the most inspiring of wardrobes. Her hands slid hangers down the bar one after another, searching for something more inspiring, something with a bit of color, a bit of zing. Everything she owned was dull, dull, dull. Dissatisfaction knotted her stomach. How could she stand out when she blended in with everything?

Her hand stilled on a hanger and she felt a frown pull at her mouth.

Stand out?

Since when did she want to stand out? Unable to answer that question, she brushed aside her unease and continued searching for something provocative and eye-catching even as her nose twitched at the offending odor of the litter box in the next room. She had dumped it several times yesterday, but the smell still bothered her.

Considering the contents of her closet, she had a real challenge on her hands. She stumbled upon a black, sleeveless, V-neck knit top at the very back of her closet. The tag still dangled from the collar. Naturally. She never wore anything that revealed so much as a hint of cleavage. Must have been a gift. She pulled it over her head and moved to the mirror. Her lips curved in a smile. It was snug, clearly defining the shape of her breasts and the shadowed valley between.

Claire smoothed a hand over her torso and twisted to assess her profile. “Much better.”

She might have to wear it with khaki slacks, but at least she wouldn’t blend into the background. A fact that was suddenly very important to her.

That left her hair. She stared at the neat, shoulder-length bob. Hopeless. It hung limply around her face even after a full night’s sleep. She ruffled it with both hands only to growl with frustration as it drifted back into place, every hair falling into order. Limp and flat. Still hopeless. Well, that’s why God created hairdressers. After work she would find one capable of performing miracles.

Grabbing a hair band, she pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail and nodded. Not bad. With her startling eyes, the effect was striking.

Clasping her silver bracelet around her wrist, she finished dressing. She had to get moving.

Fully dressed and even wearing makeup, Claire emerged from her apartment. With a definite bounce to her step, she headed for her Honda, a strange sense of anticipation humming inside her.

The sky was tinged a predawn purple, the air already thick with typical Houston humidity. Her nostrils quivered at the noxious aroma of smog. As she unlocked the car door she noticed a gently purring Jeep parked next to her sedan. No one sat inside. Shrugging, she turned back to her car.

“Going to work today?”

She gasped, her ears instantly recognizing that velvet voice. Her body recognized it as well, springing to burning awareness, the skin of her arms and neck prickling. Her purse and book bag fell to the pavement and she fisted her hands at her sides as if she could suppress the inappropriate reaction.

Gideon bent and picked up both bags, his eyes watchful as he straightened and handed them to her. His scent struck her full blast. Wood and man and the faint aroma of soap and mint toothpaste.

“You’re stalking me,” she accused, her voice unnaturally high.

Taking care to avoid touching him lest any of yesterday’s longing resurface, she grabbed her bags from his hands and hugged them tightly to her chest.

“You should consider taking a leave of absence until this is all straightened out. I had hoped you reached that conclusion when you stayed home yesterday.”

“How do you know I stayed home yesterday?” she demanded, then swiped a hand through the thick air. “Never mind. Don’t say it.” She glared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing on the thrumming pulse at the side of his throat. The blood flowed strong and steady within the artery. How she knew baffled her, but she did. She could see the beating artery as clearly as his hard-lined face before her. “You’ve been sitting out here casing my apartment since yesterday, haven’t you?”

“?’Course not. When you came back from your doughnut run I figured you weren’t going to work and left.” He slid one hand into his front jean pocket and rocked on his heels, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the soles of his shoes scratching the air.

She couldn’t help but notice that the hand in his pocket pulled his jeans tighter against a certain part of his anatomy. Desire shot through her, as shocking as yesterday in its unfamiliarity, rushing over her and heating the skin of her face and neck to an unbearable degree.Why did her eyes automatically have to look there?

Swallowing, she forced her gaze to his face. “This is harassment.” She jabbed the air in front of her with her index finger. “Leave me alone.”

God, she needed a latte. Fast. The display of goodies at her local coffeehouse flashed in her mind. And a brownie. A big, fat chocolate brownie. Her stomach growled in agreement.

“Still in denial?” He shook his head. “You’re only delaying—”

“Look,” she broke in. “I didn’t want to do this, but if you don’tleave me alone—” She paused, inhaling deeply through her nostrils, the smell of the Dumpster at the far end of the parking lot assaulting her senses. “I’m gonna call the cops.”

She waited for his reaction, fully expecting to see him beat a hasty retreat.

Any minute now.

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